#I MISS MAKING SYSTEM PAGES OK

[system-of-a-feather]

Me: you know we should post more of our alters on a page on the tumblr XIV: Eh Lucille: No. Ray: Absolutely not. Me: I mean... Ray: No. Me: But- Ray: No. Me: Why no- Lucille: No. Me: Me: Ray: Don't suggest it tomorrow Me: *turning on mental note*

[vintagerpg]

Man, I love Ultraviolet Grasslands. This is the second edition, which came out last year in hardcover. It has a giant interdimensional root vegetable on the cover. I know this is a road trip RPG, so you’d think, “Hm, perhaps a picture of a road,” but no. Root vegetable is actually probably the correct vibe.

For the most part, 2E has more. To make room for that, there’s 50ish extra pages, but also the on-board SEACAT system has been toned down (those rules are now called Synthetic Dream Machine and will be published separately in a more robust form). The new real estate is full of more things to noodle around with: vehicles, pets, spells, rules for caravans (this last is particularly in depth, feels crucial to the experience and I am surprised I didn’t feel its absence in 1E). So many tables. There’s a brand new bestiary. I’ve not thoroughly re-read the main campaign/travel guide, but I don’t think much if anything is changed there, which is OK, I liked that just fine the way it was.

The main thing, though, the main attraction is the art. There is more of it, new, weird, mostly purple. Luka’s got a dizzying talent for creating curiously proportioned robots. His psychedelic landscapes are both strange and welcoming, dangerous but also kind of cozy. I am always down for new Luke Rejec art. And a lot of the old art is bigger. Which is kind of like being new, in its way.

If you missed UVG the first time around, there is really no good reason to skip it this time. So don’t skip it.

[anachronismstellar]

OK OK OK I NEED TO SLEEP BUT

in celebration of @notsofrozt teasing art

(omg omg check this out ITS SO GOOL),

AND this fic reaching 35 pages (someone save me) here's more Airplane vs The System!

Let the games begin >:)

---

There was only one thing Shen Yuan hated more than being considered stupid and it was actually acting stupid.

Because why, WHY haven't they checked the bane of their existence, the persona non grata of binary code, the absolute most devilish collection of pixels and fuckery, aka the System?

It was right there, the notification blinking in green, marking it as a mission in progress.

He clicked, actually expecting more trouble on top of the Mobei business, only to be presented with-

Mission in progress: Author's favorite.

UV002 objective: aid UV001

Mission progress: 47%

What. The fuck.

He hadn't accepted any new missions, there wasn't even an obnoxious notification! And what's up with his objective?! Aid UV001?! How?! It didn't give him any other hint of what to do!

Oh he wasn't just angry, he was furious.

To the point that he had almost torn the door off its track when he opened it, the noise loud enough to startle Shang Qinghua into throwing his brush at him.

As if that would help against a real attack.

“Have you seen the new mission?!” He snapped as he entered Shang Qinghua's improvised office, glaring at the other trasmigrator.

“W-What?” Shang Qinghua blinked like a deer in the headlights, eyes puffed red as if had been crying moments ago.

Shan Yuan swallowed his pity, hardening his heart to focus on the task at hand. He closed the door to buy himself time before approaching the desk covered in parchment, slowly putting both hands on top of it to get closer to Airplane.

“Have you seen,” he pitched his voice low so they wouldn't be heard, doing his utmost to convey his fury through whispering. “The new. Mission.”

“Uh,” Airplane blinked again, scrubbing tears away, looking as lost as a puppy dropped from the moving truck. “Cucumber-bro-”

“Don't! You Cucumber-bro me,” he held himself back, closing his eyes to not lose his temper. “We're going to talk about your murderous ways later. Right now I need you to shut up and check. Your. System.”

He could see Airplane about to ask why, but his expression might have been terrifying enough because he just nodded and opened up his system, immediately frowning.

“What the fuck?”

“What? What is it?” Shen Yuan moved to get next to Airplane to better read what he was seeing. It never failed to amuse him how different their systems were: his looked like a proper video game menu, while Airplane's just looked like a lazy programmed blog.

“There's stuff missing. And I can't click on any missions. Like, I could at least check my old stuff? But now it's all gray?!”

“What do you mean?” At this point he was almost putting his face next to Airplane's so he could see, the bland white screen making his eyes burn. “Urgh how can you stand this, can't you change to dark mode? And go check for new missions.”

“As if, your system is way nicer than mine. Wait, do you have a new mission?”

“Yeah, it's called Author's Favorite. But it says nothing, just to help UV001. It's your user, right?”

-------

See you guys in the next update!

[rathayibacter]

Ok so how does one MAKE a tabletop game because this is something I want to try!! Are there good references out there for non-d20 systems or how to balance mechanics yourself?

oooh, hell yeah! honestly the big thing is to just do it, unlike board and video games the gap between idea and execution in ttrpgs is incredibly narrow, so if youve got an idea just start writing stuff down and see where it starts pulling you, where it feels like something's missing, find what excites you and what you feel isn't working. but that's not very specific, so let's get into it!

first off, read games! read weird games! there's tons of free ttrpgs on itch, lots of people sharing their work here and on other social media, there's 200 word rpgs here and here, and lots of system reference documents written specifically for people looking to hack games. reading other games is a great way to enrich your work whether you're building systems from scratch or working in an existing framework, because every game you read will show you a new way of approaching design problems.

on that note, draw inspiration outside of ttrpgs too! i pull a lot from video, board, and card games in my work, as well as poetry, novels, movies, etc etc etc. im autistic, and ive spent a lot of my life thinking about and dissecting unwritten social rules, so that's another big source of material for me. take your passions, whatever they may be, and put them in your work!

next up, think about the core of your game, sometimes called the minimum viable product. this is whatever the fundamental idea at the heart of your work is, and it's important to keep in mind because it keeps you from spiraling down unnecessary tangents. the core of your game can change, don't get me wrong! in fact, it likely will. what you want to do isn't prevent your work from growing and changing, but have a point of light you can always refer back to and ask "is what im doing important to this game?" you might be surprised by what you find isn't actually as important as you thought at first, and what turns out to be vital to the experience you're going for.

next up, once you start working, don't throw things away. if youre working in a word processor or google docs, it can help to have a section at the bottom of your document that you copy anything youd otherwise delete into. i do the same with my Affinity documents, ill have a few pages i dont export to store all my scraps. i know other folks who keep a dedicated scraps document that they use across projects. whatever works for you! the reason you do this is twofold: it makes it easier to cut things if you know you can always put it back later if you change your mind, and it gives you a lot of raw material that you can pull from in the future. months or years from now, you might find yourself looking to fill a gap in a new design and realize that some cool toy you set aside is exactly what you were looking for.

lastly, i wanna strongly encourage you to practice finishing things. that's often the hardest part for people, cuz we have a lot more experience starting projects than finishing them. here id like to once again direct you to 200 word rpgs, because that strict limit means you wind up with a finished first draft really quickly, and the rest of it is polishing and editing. once you've finished some bite-sized projects, you'll have a better idea of what it entails, what parts you're good at and what parts you struggle with, when to keep working and when to cut yourself off. i find it really helpful to add arbitrary limitations and deadlines on my work because that helps me push myself to finish something when otherwise i'd just keep adding and tweaking, but you'll find what works best for you!

[cowgirlcasanova]

LIQUOR & LONLINESS

pairing | arthur morgan x fem! oc

summary | arthur sees caroline alone by the fire and gives her some company. caroline can’t stand seeing him so exhausted and tries to take some weight off his shoulders

tags | fluff, flirting but everyone denies it, two idiots pretending not to be in love, fireside chat, massage, cute nervous arthur

word count | 2.5k

a/n | hi bffs! this is my first time ever publishing a fic! i’ve been trying to get back into creative writing again so here we are. please be nice to me ok? :)

i plan on publishing more arthur fics with this oc, building up their world/relationship & revealing her backstory. i just always think it’s so fun to read about ocs so i thought i’d give it a try! so this is a little introduction. hope you like it <3

A small sliver of the moon peeked through the clouds reflecting off the bay surrounding Clemens Point.

The glow of the moon and the dying firelight contrasted beautifully on Carolines face, something Arthur couldn’t help but take notice of as he gazed at her from under the awning of his wagon.

He couldn’t force himself to revert his gaze, completely enthralled by the way the shadows danced across her at the smallest of movements. He was already picturing the angle in which he’d have to move his pencil to even attempt at sketching the sight of the warm and cool light dueling on her face. Arthur cursed himself under his breath at the mere thought of filling another page in his journal with her face, something he’d found himself doing far too often these days.

“Arthur you miserable fool.” He muttered to himself, grimacing as he stretched out his overworked body and rose off his cot.

Caroline sat alone, unsure if the heat she was feeling was radiating from the ebbing fire or from the burn of the dark liquor making its way through her system. She stuck to taking small sips of her glass of bourbon, feeling a strange guilt for drinking it in the first place.

As the only member of the Van Der Linde gang to have advanced medical knowledge it all fell on her to heal their various ailments. She often had just enough supplies to keep everyone afloat, but having the law after you constantly made it a challenge to get your hands on much needed medicine. So, she’d save what she could and turn to liquor as her medicine of choice, trying to save all the expensive tonics and remedies for the traumas that really needed it. Bill complaining of a back injury? Whiskey. The days that Hosea's cough seemed to worsen? Whiskey. Even using whiskey as a last ditch effort to warm John after his wolf attack. She always tried her best to stay out of her own medicinal stash of liquor, But, some nights she wanted the peace that came with the burn of whiskey. Tonight was one of those nights.

“Hey there, Miss Caroline.” Arthurs gruff voice breaks through the unusually silent night. The smell of the burning fire filled his nose as he got closer. He approaches her with a courteous nod, running a hand across his growing stubble.

“Mind if I join ya?” He removed his banged up hat, holding it close over his chest, a small sign of respect toward the lady that did go unnoticed by her. Rarely anything he did went unnoticed by her.

She smiled up at him with the warm smile she always wore, but something about it made him feel like that sweet smile was just for him everytime. Though he’d never let himself believe something as foolish as that. When she turned to look at him the shadows on her face stopped battling and the warm light of the fire covered her completely. From Arthurs vantage point it almost looked as if she was glowing.

“Please do.”

He moves as gently as he can for his size, taking his seat next to her on the old log the gang has fashioned into a bench. His usual confidence was tempered by something softer while next to her. His leg brushes against her knee, as he sits down, a reminder of how close you two are. The weight of his knee was pushing the scratchy material of her skirt against her leg and yet, she can’t bring herself to move her leg away from the tiny space they share. In the harsh life she's suddenly found herself thrown into, although by her own actions. She finds herself craving affection and touch more and more everyday. A gentle touch. Not a casual pat on the shoulder from Dutch or a clap on the back from Sean. Something with meaning behind it, with care and tenderness.

When Arthurs leg stays planted firmly, their knees barely brushing, her heart aches at the thought that the ever so tough man beside her may be feeling the same.

"you doin’ alright this evenin’, caroline?” He asks, his voice softer than usual. His eyes moved across her face, taking in the closeness and her warmth that he was now admiring up close.

“Im doin’ just fine. How ‘bout yourself?” Her sickeningly sweet southern accent hits his ears, making him unable to stop a smile from tugging at his lips.

“I’ve been worse.”

“Long day I take it?” She asks, sipping from her glass, not diverting her gaze from him. Her face takes on a concerned expression. He has to glance away from the look she gives him, deflecting his eyes to the fire. Something about the way she looked at him always seemed so soft and genuine. It turned him into a fool everytime.

“Ain’t they all.” He drawls, letting out a self deprecating chuckle.

Arthur stretches out his sore, muscled arms in front of him in an effort to work out the constant deep ache that his overworked body feels. His biceps flex through the thin material of his button up shirt, the material looking like it could give way any moment, unintentionally drawing Caroline's eye. Her heart speeds up as she takes another sip from her glass, doing her best to quiet her thoughts of him with liquor. A quiet, painful groan slips from his mouth at the movement. He closes his eyes and rolls his neck to try and soothe discomfort.

“Did’ya hurt yourself?” She asks swiftly, her voice filling with immediate concern. Arthur scolded himself, trying to push down the warmth he felt over her worrying for him. It was her job.

His eyes warmed at her concern, making her wonder if it was the pain or her that caused the change. She hoped it was the latter. “my shoulder just been actin’ up on me. nothin’ for you to fuss about.”

“Well, if ya keep throwin’ your weight around it ain’t never gon’ heal.” She laughed softly, shaking her head as if she was scolding the tough and hardened man beside her.

He made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a groan, hating to be reminded of how often he seemed to be caught in some violent altercation nowadays. He hated it more coming from Caroline, the sweetest woman he knows. He couldn't help but feel like she should loathe him and this life. That she should turn heel and run while she still had a chance at a good life. Maybe even being able to settle down with a rich man somewhere, raise a family. The things a woman like her should be able to do. Not running with a gang of criminals.

“It ain’t the “throwing my weight around,” He says chuckling, repeating her choice of wording. “I’m just gettin’ old”

“Oh, you are not gettin’ old you silly man!” She whacked his arm playfully, the sound making a weak thump because of her carefulness, taking extra precaution to hit his forearm and not his sore shoulder.

All he musters out is a small lighthearted scoff at her strike, which felt more like a love tap.

“It ain’t age! It's all that punchin’ you're doing.” A weak attempt at chastising him, but she's not able to keep the smile off her lips long enough. “And yes, I did hear about that fight at the saloon.”

He looked over at her and the way she clicked her tongue in disapproval. She was still wearing that same smile. He couldn’t help but chuckle when she raised her eyebrows at him, the expression playfully reprimanding him and silently telling him that she was owed an answer.

“Yeah, I guessed you would’ve heard about it. But, they were was askin’ for it.” He felt an odd sense of understanding when she didn’t disagree with him but instead laughed and shook her head affectionately. “I'm sure they was.” Maybe she didn’t see him and his life as horribly as he thought.

“I guess maybe I can be a hotheaded fool sometimes.” He spoke, berating himself under the appearance of a good humored joke.

“That you certainly can be.” She chuckled, with a warm grin. He heard no malice in her words.

The way Arthur sits with his shoulders hunched forward, It's obvious he’s tired, sore, and overworked. It breaks her heart, the way he does so much for others here just to end up sitting here aching internally and externally.

“C’mere,” She gestures to the dirt ground under her feet. “Let me see what I can do for ya.” the pleading in her voice sounds like this is just as much for her as it is for him.

He doesn't want to. Making her work for him? No, it should be the other way. For a girl like her, he should be spending every waking minute running around making sure she has everything she could possibly want.

Before he can turn down her offer, she snaps her fingers, pointing at the same spot. She won't allow him to put himself last this time.

“Yes ma’am” He chuckles at her unusual assertiveness.

She carefully lays her hand on his shoulder, as if she was checking to make sure he wouldn’t flee like a wild horse the moment he felt her touch. Once certain, she rolls the pad of her thumb over his sore muscle, taking great care to be gentle. Like there was something she cherished under hands. The fabric of his shirt moves along with the movement of her thumb, stopping her hands from being able to touch his skin.

His broad shoulders relax under her touch, goosebumps rising over his skin when she touches him so delicately. He’s grateful for the shirt covering him so she can’t feel the way his skin reacts so easily to her touch. His head hangs forward as he lets out a quiet groan of contentment, relishing in the feeling. Whether it's the feeling of the sore muscle being worked loose or the feeling of being cared for so sweetly he’s not so sure. She peers down at his face and sees his eyes flutter closed as she continues her soothing movement. Her eyes were stuck on his face as he relaxed for the first time.

The smile lines around his mouth made it obvious he wore a warm expression often no matter how tough he looked at a moment's glance. His aging eyes were developing small wrinkles on the outer corners from years of squinting in the sun and all the times his bountiful laugh trailed up to his eyes. He always smelled of tobacco and ash, even his scent exuded warmth if you're able to get close enough to notice.

Arthur Morgan, The man who could make statues talk. He didn’t look intimidating to her, he rarely ever did but, especially not in the vulnerable position she’s seeing him in now. In their closeness, she could see the way the longer pieces of his growing stubble had a small curl to them, The way he had a few tiny freckles across the bridge of his nose, presumably from being in the sun his whole life. She realized he didn’t look so sad for once, he looked peaceful. And she was the one making him feel that way.

“That helpin’ at all?” She asks quietly, close enough to him that he feels her breath against his ear.

He nods sleepily, angling his neck to the left to stretch the muscle she’s working on. With the more exposed area, she runs her thumb along his neck, landing just under his jaw bone. He lets out a low, content murmur to answer her. “Mhmm” With her hands on him, she can feel the vibration of his rumble throughout her.

“Alrigh’, jus’ relax.” She whispers, her calm voice mixing with the sound of the crackling fire and the waves of the bay lapping quietly.

He lets out quiet, low groans here and there. The rumble in his voice suggests the sound is emanating from somewhere deep in his chest. His head hangs in his calm state, being enveloped in warm light.

Although this was meant to help him, she could feel it soothing her as well. She craved tenderness so deeply that this moment felt like a relief from all the toughness around her. She wasn’t just offering gentleness, she was receiving it. Arthur trusted her touch and surrendered to it. In this intimate moment, he let her be gentle and soft. For now that’s what she needed.

Even though his hands weren't on her at all, she felt as though they may as well could've been.

“That should help it at least.” She feathers her massage off, now just gently running a soothing hand over the muscle. “I don’t wanna end up aggravatin’ it more.”

He rolls his neck as he stands back up, positioning himself on the log once more. “Felt real nice. Thank ya” She feels his hand pat against her knee, gently squeezing it. Her leg felt cold after the loss of contact, even through a layer of fabric. A chill goes through her entire body. She's grateful for the long skirt covering her legs so he can’t feel the goosebumps across them.

“Don't mention it.” She says dismissively, although her heart is hammering in her chest. She takes a sip from her glass hoping he’ll believe the alcohol is the reason for the redness washing over the apples of her cheeks. “Just glad it did ya some good.”

“You’re a damn fine nurse, Caroline” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, looking almost jovial in nature. He doesn’t look so tense anymore. His shoulders fall in a more relaxed manner and the fire casts long bronze shadows over him, creating contours on his face that give his usually piercing eyes a new kind of gentleness.

“Well thank you Mr. Morgan” She beams at him, happy that her work is noticed. Especially by him. She’s constantly half exhausted with all she does in camp, fixing every small ailment that anyone complains of. And yet, shes not bringing in money or doing “domestic chores” so, Grimshaw sees no worth in her. “I do my best to keep you boys alive.” She laughs.

He scoffs with a lighthearted chuckle at her calling him “Mr. Morgan” He turns his gaze to the fire, watching it dance for a few moments before his eyes flicker down to his hands, looking at them with distant thought. “We’d probably be in a lot worse shape without ya…”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She laughs bashfully. She’s never been one to accept a compliment easily. But, something about the sincerity his voice holds always manages to make her consider that it could be the truth. She laughs again, shaking her head as if she was physically shaking the thought out. “Now, any other ways you’ve gone and gotten yourself hurt that I should know about?” Her eyebrows raise playfully.

The same scoff leaves his mouth, along with a low chuckle. “No, nothin’ else. Not now at least.”

“Well stop goin’ and gettin’ yourself hurt and maybe it’ll stay that way.” A warm smile bloomed across her face. He couldn’t help but notice the way a small crinkle formed across the bridge of her nose when she laughed. The sight captivated him too much, she seemed almost holy to him.

“I’ll try. No promises” He said with a chuckle that sounded from deep within his chest. “But, I'll try for you.”

[homestuckreplay]

My First Social Interaction In 413 Years

(page 1040-1051)

THE AIMLESS RENEGADE SHOT AT WV AND PM. I’m furious over this. There will be no forgiveness. But it makes sense that since Jack Noir was recently introduced as a potential villain for the beta kids – certainly for John, as he’s imprisoning his dad – we are getting a villain for the future folks too.

I really like the nervousness between WV and PM (p.1044) which I’m sure could be interpreted as romantic, but I personally see it as the first motions towards truce between these two different sides of a war. This might be the first time either of them has interacted with someone from the other planet in a non-hostile way. They’ve also both been wandering the wasteland without meeting anyone else in person for potentially up to 413 years, so any social interaction is probably nervewracking under those conditions – it’s not like either of them were great at interacting with the kids. These first movements towards friendship between them are very sweet.

PM’s sword is back and so badass. I think real mail workers should also be allowed to carry a sword for self defense. I hope that worm with the mailbox in its jaws is gently holding it for PM and not about to take a chomp, otherwise it’s about to have a bad time.

Page 1041 is drawn in a full color, wide brush scribbly style that was also used on page 1007, but used here for a more landscapey page (plus Jade’s ‘==> cover!’) it looks like a hybrid between the cleaner future style and Jade’s note (p.1038), further blurring the boundaries between the present and the future, between Jade and WV. Although I’m not sure what the ‘<== hurry!’ is doing, as that seems directed to PM, who hasn’t looked at the note yet so can’t be following the order.

This update also introduces some Gender. Jade refers to PM as ‘Miss Mail Lady’, and has previously called WV ‘Mister Mayor’. I think it is a little strange that a chess piece construct has a gender but I respect people’s pronouns. Later, Jade thinks that the other Prospit moon tower only differs from hers as it’s ‘home to a young boy instead of a young girl’, though I’d say the clown presence and the inhabitant being asleep are more striking differences.

@tenaciouschronicler was so right to mention keeping an eye on dichotomies, and that’s definitely a theme I want to write lots about in the future, but I’m especially interested with how dichotomies are set up and then questioned or subverted. We’re seeing this with the art style, with the different timelines, possibly with the light and dark sides of the war, and hopefully with gender (although that could be my personal bias).

I actually forgot to even speculate who or what might be in the other tower, but John being there (in a matching golden outfit!) explains this earlier conversation.

GG: oh gosh john i really want to tell you all this stuff!!! GG: but i cant yet GG: i really think you need to wake up first! EB: huh? GG: well ok not literally GG: well ok maybe KINDA literally!! (p.652)

I think that awake Jade had this conversation with John, because of the Jade inequality where waking Jade seems aware of dream Jade’s existence, but the reverse doesn’t seem true – dream Jade isn’t aware of the finger reminder system (p.777, 1050). Waking Jade wants to explain the difference between these two selves to John, but she thinks John won’t believe her, because John doesn’t know about this alternate version of himself. If the dream self represents the unconscious then perhaps now that he can see the graffiti in his waking room, he’ll be ready to realize this. This means that the previous conversations Jade has with John (p.169, p.293) happen while Jade is asleep – in fact, are presumably about to happen, because she’s about to message John to ask about his present (p.1051).

Which means that the explosion Jade describes on page 169 actually happens on Prospit, possibly as a consequence of the eclipse Jade is nervous about. It also means that there is a version of Bec somewhere on Prospit, as he warns her away from investigating between the two conversations (p.293). This all calls into question my sense that Jade likes to take control of conversations, dispensing information slowly as she knows more than her friends – if her dream self isn’t even aware of her waking self’s life, and if she’s dreaming during roughly half her conversations, her information is a lot more imperfect than I thought. That’s exciting to me, and makes it well worth rereading all of Jade’s conversations and trying to figure out which Jade is talking.

Clearly, John has been within the Medium since before he entered the Medium. How long has he been here, and how does that line up with how long John and Jade have been friends while awake? Did Jade see the kid in the other tower and decide to search for him while awake using some of her powers? Or did John talking to Jade online ‘infect’ him slightly with some of her abilities and pull him under Skaia’s will? Is the whole thing a total coincidence, or is it a “coincidence”, predetermined by Skaia? Which version of Jade – awake or dreaming – was talking to John the first time they met online?

And no shit John is having troubled dreams. There’s an imp on his bed. Specifically, a black chess piece, which is unexpected on Prospit. And his graffiti is also here, so it’s a fair guess he’s dreaming about clowns. I’m thinking about how Prospit is supposed to be the planet of goodness of light, working for the righteous cause of protecting Skaia, but Jade and John both go through some rough stuff. Even if it can’t extend to waking life, I’d expect a place like this to guard its wards from unpleasant dreams, and one single imp doll should not be able to overpower the entire planet. So what’s going on? What are the secret dark sides to this luminous planet?

Page 1051 (below) has to be one of the coolest visual panels so far. The white/blue to black/yellow transition, with Jade hovering bravely between the two planets bringing the colors from the bottom section into the top, and the geometric reflections of Prospit superimposed on the swirling clouds, are all stunning and make the eclipse feel like an important moment.

> Jade: Reminisce about previous eclipse.

[inkdemonapologist]

nobody asked but since I've seen a lil chatter on the DCTL Graphic Novel on tumblr too, here's the thread I posted on twitter, speaking as someone who's done a little freelance work as a comic artist, under the jump:

Main thought about the DCTL graphic novel preview is: yeah, I've made designs like that when I was being paid by the page and expected to just throw in extra design work for free and I have a deadline and no time to scour the source material or really put my heart into the design No shade to the artist; every complaint I have about the pages we've seen is that this looks like someone who was just working (quickly) from a script. The artist is likely not a Big Fan, so they only know the info and descriptions they're given. And the artist's portfolio shows they're capable of the kind of designs and dynamics this comic needed. its possible they phoned it in for no reason, but feels more likely to be "not enough time/not paid enough/not given enough info to give it that level of care." Which, don't get me wrong; an important level of craftsmanship and care is missing and im not gonna blame the artist but i AM gonna be a hater abt it lmao It's not just about designs; the convo with Joey is another good example. It's a literal illustration of the things Joey said and did in that scene, but it's missing the point -- that scene is our introduction to the way Joey throws Buddy off-balance. That energy is missing. And that's the sort of thing that needs the script to convey this purpose well to the artist, that needs the artist to have time & freedom to invest in portraying it, that needs time & investment & knowledge to ask for adjustments at early stages and get the page right one more note: begging batim fans 2 think abt the plot of DCTL and realise why "maybe we will not make the creepy guy who dies at the end a black man in this" is perhaps a reasonable choice. like im a fan of poc norman headcanons too but pls recognise this would be a tough call!! anyway, genuinely cannot wait to see how off sammy is gonna be in this lmao. will he be a mid non-design like norman or will he be conventionally handsome or will he get graphic novel dave miller vibes b/c hes an antagonist? will we get the fabled black hair sammy??? i cant wait

TL;DR I strongly suspect this was an issue of not enough time/not enough money. That design looks nothing like the description of Norman, right? Like, there's hundreds of different AU designs of all shapes, colours and sizes that you could create that would still look like Norman Polk, but somehow they managed to make a character that isnt ANY of them, lmao??? So... how could that happen, unless nobody gave the artist a description of Norman? Or if they did, how did that design make it past anyone else, unless there wasn't time for revisions or a system worked out for revisions, unless whoever was managing the comic project thought it was fine if the designs didn't fit with the descriptions in the book? If everyone is doing their job, then the artist is given the information they need without having to go do unpaid YA novel research before they can start drawing. That's why you have a writer adapting it!!

("they should hire fans, a fan would've done a better job" OK BUT THATS B/C FANS ARE MORE LIKELY TO ALLOW THEMSELVES TO BE EXPLOITED AND DO EXTRA UNPAID WORK B/C THEY CARE!! THATS NOT A SOLUTION!!!! THATS A JOEY DREW STRAT!!!!!!!)

Anyway I could yell about this for 15 years so I'm going to shush for now BUT I JUST FEEL VERY STRONGLY ABOUT IT LMAO.

[allieisacrybaby]

Summer Nights Like This

Julien Baker x Fem!Reader

no warnings, just pure summery Julien Baker fluff :)

The sun slowly descended across the horizon, the birds chirped happily, and the breeze blew cooly across your face, carrying the smell of freshly mown grass and citronella. It was the perfect summer evening. You were perched on the back porch bed swing in your Nashville home that you shared with your partner Julien. You were reading your book in utter bliss when the sound of the sliding glass door opening and closing redirected your attention from the fantasy in your hands to the woman approaching you. 

“Hey punk, how’s your book?” Julien asked, cozying up on the bed swing next to you. Sticking your finger in the book to not lose your place and reply,

“So far, so good. I’ve made quite the dent in it today.”

“That’s awesome.” she smiles, but her eyes tell a different story. 

“What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you much today.” you ask. JB sighs, slumping her shoulders forward. That was your cue. You find your bookmark, stick it between the pages, and tuck it next to you, giving her your undivided attention. JB sees your shift in awareness and pulls your dangling legs from the edge of the bed swing and into her lap, getting extra comfortable. Once she’s situated, she begins,

“I have this vision, but I just can’t seem to recreate it. I can hear it so clearly in my head, but I just can’t find a way to put it into reality. I’ve spent all day mixing different instruments and chords together, and I just cannot get it right for the life of me. It’s been absolutely exhausting and frustrating.”

“I’m sorry, love. I can’t imagine how frustrating that must be. How about you call it a day and spend the rest of the evening out here with me? We can put on some music, make dinner, and sit out here and enjoy this beautiful summer evening. How does that sound?” you suggest. 

“Really? Princess, that would be amazing.” JB smiles, you can see her body relax, and she gives you that big ‘ole cheesy grin.

“Of course! Ok, here’s the game plan. You’ll connect to the Bluetooth speakers out here and play whatever you want and just relax, and I’ll get to work making dinner inside. Oh! Do you have any requests for dinner? We have a lot of stuff because we went grocery shopping yesterday, so I can whip up whatever you want.” 

“I could really go for some pesto pasta.” she sheepishly responds.

“Coming right up!” you grin, popping up from your spot on the swing. Before you can get far, Jay grabs your wrist and pulls you down for a kiss. It’s sweet, tender, and warm, just like her. You blush deeply and scurry off to get dinner started. 

*****

Entranced in preparing the pasta and the song's melody playing throughout the house speaker system, you don’t register the sliding glass door opening and closing or the soft thump of Blundstone boots across the hardwood floor. You only register that another person has entered the kitchen when a pair of sun-warmed tattooed arms wrap around your waist.

“What are you doing in here? You’re supposed to be outside relaxing.” you chastise sweetly.

“I got lonely. I missed my girl.” Julien smiles, resting the side of her cheek on your back, effectively smooshing herself into you.

“Well, dinner is almost ready. I just need to plate this after mixing the pesto and tomatoes into the pasta. If you miss me that much, you can sit at the island and watch, but I can’t finish dinner if you’re wrapped around my waist, baby.” 

“Fine, but we're eating dinner on the bed swing so you can sit in my lap.” 

“Deal.” you agree. She unravels her arms from around your waist and gently kisses behind your ear before making her way to a barstool. 

After plating the pasta and pouring drinks, you and JB return back outside, plopping down onto the bed swing, plates of pasta in hand. JB sits her plate down to the side and makes grabby hands in your direction. You know immediately what she wants, and you shake your head with a goofy grin and scootch your way into her lap. 

Taking in the countryside before you, the sun had finally set, and what was left was an orangy hue spreading a precious glow just above the rolling planes of land. Absolutely breathtaking.

“I’m so glad this is our home.” you sigh out in gratitude, leaning into Julien’s sternum.

“I mean, yeah, but this house isn’t really my home, though,” 

Furrowing your brows in confusion, she shakes her head and continues,

“You’re my home. I could be anywhere in this world, and the minute you’re there with me, in my arms, I’m home.” 

“JB, that is the cheesiest, sweetest thing you’ve ever said. You’re such a sap.” you smile, tears slowly welling in your eyes.

“It’s true. No house could ever replace the feeling of comfort you bring me.” 

“Jay, Stop it. I’m gonna cry, and I haven’t eaten my food yet.” 

“I’m sorry, doll, I’m sorry. Let’s eat this delicious food my little chef has so kindly cooked up.” 

Dinner consisted of little talking, many satisfied groans of appreciation for a good meal, and a couple of stolen kisses. By the time you’d finished eating, the sun had been replaced by the moon, the chirping birds were replaced with chirping crickets, and a smattering of stars had appeared across the midnight-black sky. 

“That was delicious, baby, thank you.” 

“Of course. I’m always happy to take care of you when you’ve had a rough day.” you smile, snuggling into her side. 

A particularly chilly breeze rolled over the two of you. JB grabbed the tattered quilt that lay over the back of the swing and covered the two of you up. 

“I could stay out here forever.” You sighed, nuzzling your nose into Julien’s neck. Wrapping an arm around your back and pulling you closer to her side, she smiled down at your sleepy face.

“Me too, doll, me too.” 

[solradguy]

I saw your post about the Internet Archive and Archiving GG stuff for future Generations and i wanted to ask some stuff regarding the Archiving, i hope thats ok

Probably the dumber question but do you know if Daisuke has ever been involved in the Archiving of his series? I know the series started as a Passion project for him but Idk how active he would be with helping archive or fill in missing pieces, especially in the english world.

Just as a General question, are current online archiving groups mostly relying on being connected to one another in some way to reestablish fallen sources? Since very little of the internet if any is as stable as we like to believe and any service storing data may shut down somehow any day like Drive, when one host site does go down do the archivists rally together and find a new spot or do you kinda have to hope people can find the new host?

Also are there any larger scale Archivist groups someone with less ability to physically help could donate to to help preserve our online histories?

thank you and apologies if you dont like questions

Hello! Questions are fine ^^ Sometimes it takes me a million years to reply, but I don't mind them.

My answer to this got kinda long. Excuse the readmore.

We don't have any strong evidence either way what the condition of the official Arc System Works library of Guilty Gear media is like, but there have been a few times where the images they've used for things have been worse than the images us rogue archivists have. This ML illustration is definitely one they either no longer have the physical/original piece for, or they might not have a way to rescan it, because the file they use when they reproduce it is pathetically tiny. Example from the Steam release of Strive's bonus Digital Artbook:

Compared to other illustrations in the same book (two pages here):

This Ky from the website for the 20th Anniversary Pack release of Missing Link for the Switch was taken from the Guilty Gear Bible:

We know this because... He's on page 12 in the Bible and...

...they didn't erase the page number off his shoe.

So, at the very least, some Missing Link era works are likely gone/lost/destroyed/etc. It's possible some GGX thru GGXX artworks are lost too, but we don't have a concrete catalog of XX works because they never released a complete artbook for XX. It's also rumored that Keep The Flag Flying's original master file is lost but I've never been able to find a source for that. Daisuke has never reached out to any of us about our image archives and we've never offered.

Archiving is very much a western concept and it's a common thought in Japan that saving copies of another person's works is extremely bad; I've been chewed out and blocked by Japanese fans for it. It's just a cultural difference, I don't take it personally. If ASW contacts us about it though we'll definitely give them our files or take down anything they request of us. We don't want to poke the bear and risk the entire archive if we can. They seem to be turning a blind eye to our archives though, as long as it's not an upload of something extremely recent (I got DMCA'd for the Strive Artworks Archive scans).

The core of the Guilty Gear archive group works on the new GG wiki and/or are admins of the new wiki, so we're in pretty close contact with each other. Most of the archive is in my hands and, unfortunately, my hands alone. With the announcement of the Internet Archive v Hachette ruling, we've been planning on making copies of my GG archive hard drive and sending it out to the other archivists in our circle. I don't have a PO box, I can't do this for people outside the group because I don't want my physical home address to be that accessible.

That said, there are redundant digital copies of a lot of files and I have a backup hard drive of the main GG archive drive; the main drive is a relatively new 2tb Western Digital My Passport external drive and the backup is a 1tb WD My Passport that's a little older. A lot of people have downloaded copies of the files currently online (via my masterpost) and can reupload something if it goes down even if I'm not around to do it. We rely on Archive.org a lot but aren't against using Dropbox, Google Drive, mega.nz, Neocities, file.garden, or, if we absolutely must, Discord. I do not like relying on Discord and Discord files are generally extremely temporary.

The files that aren't in the archive include software or game asset rips, image files, music, and random bits and bobs. I'm working on getting the images up on the wiki but everything else is kind of in a weird zone where I don't really know what to do with it.

As for donating to support broader archivism: We use Archive.org (and their Wayback Machine) the most, so donating to them would benefit both the GG archive as well as hundreds of thousands of music, literature, research, and art groups too. Their donate page can be found here: https://archive.org/donate?origin=iawww-TopNavDonateButton

Supporting your local libraries, museums, and conservatories also supports archivism. Most of these places accept public donations of any amount and could probably direct you to other local archiving groups/associations.

Donating to Wikipedia also supports broader archivism to a lesser extent. They write about events as they happen, with sources/citations, and older versions of this information is permanently available on every article and file without having to rely on things like Wayback Machine. Their donation page is here: https://donate.wikimedia.org

I also have a donation page via Ko-fi and any money donated with a note about it being for Guilty Gear will go back into Guilty Gear (via book/magazine purchases for scanning, usually). Donating to one of the above groups would be better for archiving as a whole though. My page can be found here: https://ko-fi.com/somnivagrious

Hope this answers your questions!!

[daydreamgoddess14]

Support System pt. 9

Roy Kent x Reader - domestic fluff and hints of further spice to come 😍

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7 | CH 8

MASTERLIST

~~~~~~~~

You're enjoying the hottest shower you can bear and also not looking forward to going back to your poor water pressure trickle when he taps on the door. 

"Why you knocking?" You laugh over the pounding water. 

"Don't want to catch you doing something you don't want me to know about, " he says with a wink. You turn the shower off and step into the towel he's holding out. "Your phones been going mad, I hope you don't mind but I wanted to check it wasn't Lexie?" 

"Thank you, course I don't." You take the phone and look through the notifications. "Lots from your sister, she's seen the red carpet pictures… shit, the pictures!" You keep scrolling, reaching with your other hand to hold onto his t-shirt. He takes you hand and kisses the palm. "Ah. Here we go." You hold it up to show him. A slew of messages and missed calls from Andy. 

"Fuck. What a knob. Come on, I've made tea. Do you want to read them while I get angry or the other way around?" 

"Ooh we can switch and both get angry."

"Can't do that, you look really hot when you're mad and we haven't got enough time for that."

"Uhh you need talk? Jamie asked me last night if permanent concussion was a thing from all the times you've headbutted him." He holds his hands up, backing out the door. 

"I deny everything." He leaves you to pull on some leggings and one of his Richmond t-shirts (no name on the back). You bounce down the stairs, your heels from the night before discarded at the bottom. Your dress had been left there too but Roy's obviously rescued it and draped it over the back of the sofa. 

"Thank you for saving the dress." You tiptoe to kiss his cheek. 

"It's only down here so I can put it on you again and then take it back off." 

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't think we had time for that this morning?" You tease. You sit up on one of the barstools and he steps between your legs, holding out a piece of toast.

"We don't, but I can look at it and dream." He sneaks a kiss before passing your breakfast and moves to stand behind you. 

"I see what you're doing, feed me, put me in a good mood before I have to read these stupid messages?"

"Is it working?" He kisses your neck. 

"No."

"Yes," a laugh which makes you shiver.

"Fine, yes. OK, what have we got…" You unlock the phone and open Andy’s contact page. "Ready?" He nods into your shoulder.

" Now I see why you said no to getting back together. Starting tame, also he's not wrong. I'll allow it. You look like a slag in that dress. Juicy, god I haven't heard the word slag for years!" Roy growls. " I'm guessing Lexie doesn't know. She will when she wakes up. Hmm. OK. I mean, she likes you so I think we can cope with that situation. I think she'll be OK?"

"She's a fucking great kid, smart as hell. She'll be OK." He assures you. 

"There's more. He must have been pretty drunk by these I think. Bet he can't even fuck you with that dodgy knee. Uhhh, better than anyone. Ever. Ever." You feel his grin against your neck. "Don't get a big head."

"Not my head." He laughs, his beard and warm breath tickling you. 

"Ohhh stop doing that. Moving on. I'm sorry you dint really look like a slut. or slag. Ah, spelling and memory are becoming an issue. Oh god, he's back to sex. No idea why, he has literally zero to brag about. can't believe that wanker gets to fuck you in that dress bitch I wud fuk u better. Wow, that one is a real mess. Its the last one, I'm guessing he passed out after that because that last bit is just wishful thinking on his part."

"Didn't he have Lexie?"

"She went to his mums I think, he was going to the West Ham match."

"Good fucking job, if I find out he's getting wasted while she's with him-" You spin the seat around to face him again,

"You'll do nothing. I'll rip his dick off with my bare hands though." 

"Fuck me, you're hot when you're angry." 

"I should go and get her. I just need to check where from. Are you with Jamie today?"

"Yeah, but I can see him later if you want me to come with you?"

"I'll be OK. How shall we tell her? Do you want to be there?" 

"Your call babe, whatever you think she'd prefer? I'd rather not scare the shit out of her." 

"I'll get her and go back to mine. You could come over when you're done later if you want? If she asks me, I won't lie to her but if she doesn't, then we can tell her together? I'll cook for you for a change." 

"Perfect. Do me a favour?"

"Anything." 

"Wear this when you pick her up." He traces over your heart where it turns out, his name is on the shirt embroidered above the Richmond logo. 

"Baby, I would turn up in a full kit with your name on the back. Knee socks included, and football boots, just to piss him off." He kisses you fiercely, 

"Now you're just talking dirty to me," he mutters. 

"Yep, you love it. Come on, I bet Jamie's dying for gossip and I've got to get going." You text Andy while throwing only the important things in your bag. You're sure you've left a breadcrumb trail of your belongings around the house, but you know Roy won't mind. You head out together, the walk taking you both in the same direction for much of the journey. "Did you need to do anything about the photos?"

"Nah, no point in retracting them now and you look fit so the whole world can see them for all I care."

"Including your mum."

"Including my m-, shit, yeah I'd better call her. And your parents? Are they gonna wonder what the fucks going on?"

"I'll take Lexie round that way on our way home I think. Appease them."

"Nice one. Right, this is the Tartt's palace. See you later. Good luck, don't fucking kill him without me there to watch."

"Hmm I'll try. Don't make Jamie vom, he was trying really hard not to get too drunk last night but I don't think he was very successful."

"Story of his life. Love you." You smile up at him, 

"Love you too." Jamie has the door open before Roy's even hallway through the gate, waving at you. You wave back and carry on up to Andy’s mum's house. She had been largely on your side up to now, annoyed with Andy for breaking up the family and worried that she'd see less of Lexie because of it. You'd reassured her repeatedly, taken Lexie in for tea on the way home from school, picked up bits of shopping for her and gently tried to let her know that nothing had to change between them. You weren't so sure that would be the case this morning. 

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Andy’s car was on the drive so you braced yourself. 

"Darling girl, come in! Tea?"

"Hi Daph, yes please. I've only had time for one this morning." So far, so good. 

"Sore head?" She asked knowingly. 

"Not too bad. I suspect someone else is more hungover than me."

"You're not wrong. Did he give you crap?"

"A bit. How was Lex?"

"Oh golden, we had a lovely night. She's none the wiser by the way." She leads you from your hushed conversation in the hallway to her kitchen where Lexie sat eating breakfast and Andy hovered with a coffee in hand.

"Morning poppet, did you have a good night with Gran?"

"Yeah, we watched the new Matilda film!"

"And she hasn't stopped singing the songs yet!" Lexie grinned at her Gran.

"Show me later. Did you do your homework with Dad?" She nodded through a mouthful of cereal. Andy had yet to acknowledge you so far. "Shall we pop and see Nanny and Pop-pop on the way home?" Her face lights up, Andy grunts from the corner of the room. 

"Something to tell the folks eh?"

"Nothing we haven't already talked about." You quickly come up with the white lie. You don't want him to have the satisfaction that you're on clean up duty today. Lexie finishes her breakfast, puts her bowl in the sink and gives Daph a big hug. 

"Thank you Gran."

"Anytime pickle. Have a lovely week at school."

"And bye to Dad?" You prompt her, finishing your tea. You manage to leave without being cornered by Andy, it's pretty clear that his mum has told him to keep his mouth shut, so the short distance to your parents is a happy one. Your dad is already in the garden checking his plants and you can see your mum in the kitchen window beaming at Lexie. "Morning!" You call out, Lexie runs straight in so you go to your dad first. "Hiya dad." 

"Morning poppet," the same nickname you use for Lexie makes you smile. "Saw the paper."

"Hmm I thought you might have."

"Isn't he an almighty arsehole? I saw him on Sky Sports news, proper miserable bugger." You laugh at your dad's straight to the point question. 

"I still need to talk to Lexie, so I can't really talk about it too much, but he's so lovely dad. He's a grumpy fucker but he loves me, and Lexie too. It's early days, but he makes me very happy." Your dad stays quiet, just a grunt of acknowledgement. 

"I'll see about that. You'll bring him?"

"Soon, let's get the season finished first. It's a busy couple of weeks."

"Any luck on the job front?"

"Not yet."

"I hope you're not planning on just letting him support you? I didn't raise you like that."

"Dad! Course I'm not!" It stings a bit that he'd even ask that. You leave him to his tomato plants and go in to your mum. 

"Morning, love. Good night?"

"Yeah, thank you." Lexie is distracted by the baking your mum has already started, "you're not going to ask if I'm in it for the money as well are you?" Your mum laughs, 

"Don't be daft. Nice t-shirt," she notes. "Does the situation make you happy?" She asks cryptically for Lexie's benefit. 

"Very."

"Well that's enough for me for now. More details to follow though please. And you looked beautiful, my sweetheart."

"Thank you."

"He's very handsome. The only reason I'd put up with your dad watching Sky Sports news, really. Don't tell him I said that."

"I'm not telling either of them. Don't want him leaving me for my hot mum!" You stay long enough for Lexie the bottomless pit to have one of your mums famed apple muffins and pack up a couple to take for Roy, thankful that they can't ask too much with Lexie around. You plan to walk home via the park so text Sara who meets you with Phoebe. 

"How did the parental rounds go? Roy called this morning, said you'd have to deal with Andy's mum as well?"

"The mums are fine, I think. Turns out he's got a good fanbase in older women." 

"Oh that'll be his yoga women theory rumbled then. So confident they have no idea who he is! Like their husbands aren't all glued to weekend football."

"My dad asked if I was a golddigger."

"Ouch, rude!"

"Just making sure I'm not throwing my career away."

"What career?" She sniggers. 

"Oi, cheek!" 

"You looked so great together last night. The pictures were amazing."

"It didn't even cross my mind that they'd get attention like that. I wasn't expecting damage control this morning, or to have to tell those two so soon." You look over at where the girls are playing. 

"Phebs hasn't mentioned it yet, but it won't take long. You haven't got to see the playground parents tomorrow have you? That'll be fun, they love a bit of extracurricular shagging!"

"No, she's at breakfast club thankfully! I'm going to tell her this afternoon." 

"Good idea, gotta do it before anyone else can." You say goodbye with plans to watch the following week's Man City game together with the girls and to catch up in the week at school. 

 

~~~~~~~~

 

You're considering tackling the mountain of washing and more job applications when the front door knocks. Lexie, who's been quiet all morning, jumps up to open it. You can just about see the front door from the kitchen, so the first thing you see is Roy handing Lexie a bunch of pink tulips. 

"For me?" She squeaks, "really?"

"Is that OK?"

"Only mum has ever brought me flowers before! Mum! Roy brought me flowers!" She rushes in to show you, shaking the bunch in her little fist.

"Oh honey, they're beautiful! Shall I help you put them in water?"

"Can you do it? I'm making friendship bracelets."

"'Scuse me?"

"Pleaseee?"

"That's better, yes, I can do that for you." She puts the flowers on the table and runs back to the living room, high fiving Roy on the way past. "Someone is on the charm offensive." 

"Oh big time," he pulled another bunch from behind his back, peonies.

"How did you know?"

"Dunno what you're talking about." He checked the door before kissing you lightly, you cock your head to one side, "alright yeah, Lexie told me last week when you were out shopping with Sar."

"I knew you were a softy really."

"Only for you, don't get destroying my fucking tough man image."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I like that side too. Did you make Jamie vomit?"

"Unfortunately no. Did you kill anyone?"

"Unfortunately no. Bad mornings all round." He hasn't moved from your side yet and keeps looking to the door. "I think you're safe. She's making Richmond coloured bracelets for the match, we're watching with your mum and sister."

"So I've heard, means I'd better tell my mum about you then." At the knowledge that you shouldn't be interrupted for a few moments, he takes the opportunity to crowd you against the counter and really kiss you. You tilt your head to give you both better access and he sweeps his tongue over your bottom lip before biting it. The small gesture sends a wave of pleasure through your body and your hands go to the hem of his t-shirt of their own accord. You slide them just underneath enough to feel the warm skin on his stomach. The lightest scratch of your nails so close to the waistband of his jeans makes him growl into the kiss. "I've got to stop," he groans, pulling away from you. You can't help the desperate, needy moan at the loss of contact, and the look he gives you from that sound alone is enough to leave you trembling. You take a second to get your breath back and go back to sorting out the flowers. "Has she asked?" He questions once it feels safe enough to talk again. 

"Not yet. I'm going to go and talk to her, you're welcome to come with me?" He squeezes your hand reassuringly but makes sure to let it go once you're in the living room. "Hey, Lex? I need to tell you some that you might end up hearing about from someone else, I wanted to be able to tell you first though?" She sits up and starts measuring your wrist for a friendship bracelet.

"Is it about Roy?"

"Uhh yeah, how did you know?" She shrugs,

"He's here. And he brought flowers." You nod, 

"Right, of course. Yeah, it's about Roy. He asked me out to a fancy party last night. You might see some pictures of us-"

"Have you got them, can I see now?"

"Sure, I just need to get my phone." You're about to stand when Roy passes you his phone instead, and you see the lockscreen is one of the pictures from the night before. You hold it out to her, 

"You guys look so cute." Roy grunts at being called 'cute', "It's true!" She says, taking up his wrist to measure him for a bracelet. "So he's like, your boyfriend?" You steal a quick look at him, his eyebrows raise in anticipation of your answer. 

"Yeah. Is that ok?" Lexie shrugs,

"Sure, you're cooler than dad's new girlfriend but they broke up already. And now I get to meet footballers and hang out with Phoebe even more. She said we could be cousins and I told her I didn't have any so she said we should definitely do that. Can we?"

"Let's ummm… cousins is a very big step for you both. You really need to make sure you're ready so just slow down a bit there." Roy is sniggering at the big deal you've made cousins out to be, but Lexie is having none of it. 

"Mum, I think we'd be OK. We're nearly 9. We're not babies. I think you should just be brave and let us do it."

"Thanks for that input bunny, I'll take the cousins thing super seriously, ok?" She accepts your suggestion and thankfully drops the conversation. In the safety of the kitchen, you lean into him and let his arms wrap around you. "That was so scary. Why are 8 year olds so fucking terrifying?!"

"You were the shit, I fucking loved that." He laughs, his chest rumbling against yours. You stand together until Roy's phone rings and disturbs you. "It's Phoebe. Alright love?" He asks her. You can hear the squeal through the phone but can't make out what she's actually saying. You move away from Roy and give him a big thumbs up and a: you got this ! He doesn't look convinced, despite you only just telling him how scary it was. You can only hear his side of the call. "Nan saw the pictures? Yeah it was a fucking great dress. Yeah alright, I owe you. Worth it. No, this doesn't mean you're cousins now. You can be cousins when I tell you so. Cos it'll be up to me! Phoebe, put nan on the phone. Mum? Yeah she's OK. I'll come and see you tomorrow. I will, love you." He hangs up and you wait. "Phoebe is suddenly obsessed with cousins and mum wanted to check you were ok." You smile,

"I think that went well then. All the mums are on board, all the kids, I'm claiming the win." 

 

You cooked dinner, as promised and let Lexie watch a film with Roy afterwards while you packed her school bag and your work things. He left at her bedtime, leaving you with a kiss at the door. 

"Maybe Roy could have a sleepover next time, mum," she said halfway to sleep, "but you can't steal all the covers or he'll get cold."

"Thanks poppet, I'll make sure I don't steal the covers."

~~~~~~~~

[sugar-grigri]

Not really an interpretation, just a clarification!

ok little Yoshiden fan approaching... I'm afraid we're not happy with the same thing

If I'm shouting Yoshiden content, it's because it's been a long time since Yoshida last appeared. And even longer since he interacted with Denji.

What I loved about this chapter was seeing them in even more opposite positions, but still seeing Yoshida's slightly silly side. Always wanting to provoke Denji and trigger angry emotions.

Now... interpreting an entire scene in a sexualized way is disturbing. I've even seen people say that Fujimoto deliberately set up a strange yaoi-style atmosphere with consent bias. Fans see it as confirmation of a sadistic Yoshida who dreams of having a hold on Denji.

I hope I don't have to go on and on about how strange I find it to interpret these things in this way, not least because Yoshida and Denji are both minors, but also because to interpret the whole scene as gay bating or fan service is once again to miss the point of the chapter entirely.

Let's stop and think. It all makes sense, and nothing but absolutely NOTHING has been set up just for fan service. If Denji is almost naked, it's for two reasons in my opinion. A punishment from Yoshida, but like a frustrated teenager punishing another for not listening to him (Denji showed too much of himself as Chainsaw Man and came close several times to revealing his identity to Asa).

Then, in a symbolic way, to show Denji's vulnerability, as he's left with nothing. Far from Nayuta. Far from Asa. Far from his beloved dogs.

Finally, to contrast with the famous plan to do everything in his power to protect Chainsaw Man. Boom. On the next page, we see Denji in a rather humiliating and dehumanizing position. Symbolizing that NO, this isn't really in his best interest.

I don't want to unpack this old debate yet, but the reason I'm producing more content about Asaden is because fans see them more as a couple between two teenagers. I don't like the interpretation of Yoshiden fans, who are always on the verge of consent, imagining Yoshida as a sadist in his thirties when he's a teenager whose only way of communicating is through manipulation and provocation. I like Yoshiden because I think it's funny to see Denji explore an unexpected bisexuality. I'd like some sweet content in between.

Denji is a victim of abuse. Yoshida seems like a victim crushed by the equally biased system. I don't want them to hurt each other.

Queer content has to stop being tinged with violence, whether physical or sexual.

It can also just be cute.

[strawberryybird]

ok fuck it. in honour of fire emblem: free real estate timeskip day, have some disability headcanons.

edelgard with crutches. thats it thats the post. done.

but also i absolutely think edelgard can have some mobility aids as a treat specifically for me, mobility aid user and edelgard enthusiast. i think the double-cresting she has going on means she has some level of chronic fatigue. use crutches babygirl <33 you know what? She can use a wheelchair, too. And a cane. All the mobility aids for my girl.

lysithea too, for that matter. I'm very fond of lysithea being the default recipient of Hilda's embellishment and decorating. I think Lys has trouble with her joints and uses braces, wraps, and ergonomic designs of things. Whatever motif Hilda has designed this month, Lys will give a test run.

Lys and her dislocating joints creating new spell-casting techniques by force of need and love of her craft.

Hilda's love for jewellery and decorating leading to her interest in the exact intersection of utility and design. Anything to stop people from having to put in so much effort to do things. That's atrocious. Use this, for Seiros' sake.

Magic users with Magic!Psoriasis in their joint extremities. Hands, feet, kneecaps, neck. Anywhere, really. Magic causing immune system reactions my beloved headcanon.

Claude takes out a new tangle from a new pocket in every class. where did he get them. why does he have this many. how did he get a new tangle in the span of the last 6 minutes. claude what the hell.

Marianne & Bernie having enthusiastic sign language chats in the tea gardens. Byleth makes sure to teach them every swear they've ever learned.

If Byleth has to step outside for a bit of air when they realise they're missing another memory from Before, no one makes a big deal. The world will keep moving with them, says Ignatz, who can't bear loud noises anymore.

Dorothea unabashedly handing in her essays on dyed paper, because the pink means the letters stop sliding around. Bernie made her a little quilted pouch for her green-lensed glasses.

Ferdinand making Edie nearly weep with laughter as he matches her pace on the stairs, threatening to have them all demolished for domestic terror and regicide.

Annette and Constance inventing the dicta-quill, creating ye-olde speech-to-text. Annie sends one personally to Lorenz, who lost his left forearm in the final battle. She gets 3 pages of effusive praise and thanks back. Their correspondence gets so long, that the post service starts charging their letters as parcels.

[vintagerpg]

OK, this week is one of those exercises in me looking at a game that doesn’t appeal to me for reasons I can’t quite express, and then you try to educate me as to its charms. The game in question is Numenera, the first iteration from 2013, before Cypher System really becomes Cypher System.

So, Numenera is a very light mechanical RPG, using a D20 for resolution. Only the players roll; they’re trying to beat values on a sliding difficulty ladder that reminds me vaguely of Fate. Characters are defined through key words (though not, like, totally open ended keywords as in HeroQuest, there are constraints and those build in a lot of structure that makes me feel comfortable). Magic items are little doo-dads that have a bunch of unique minor effects, so they have a lot of application, feel special and can interact with each other in lots of ways (good and bad). It’s a way more welcoming and usable system than I expected (the last Monte Cook game I read was Invisible Sun, which is neither).

The game is arranged around exploration and discovering things to wonder at — the world has a deep history, full of lost technology, weird magic, strange civilizations. Page after page after page of stuff that I feel should thrill me (I love the fact that there is no experience rewards for combat and that damage is basically static). Especially since I love Cook’s Planescape work and at enjoy the majority of his other D&D material I’ve read. And I like worlds with similar histories, like Talislanta or Jorune. But for some reason, Numenera leaves me under-wondered. The same is true of the videogames (and Planescape Torment was for a long time my all-time favorite).

So what’s my malfunction? What am I missing?

[yurious-george]

please spill the sleepless domain opinions. ive only ever seen praise for it

DISCLAIMER: SD's story is simply not to my preference. No issues with that - normally I would just stop reading and move on - but I was on the official SD discord server during my formative years, and basically had to pretend to like Sleepless Domain to interact with the server at large. Pent up bitterness, thy name is hallowed.

That said, my god. The two main characters are insecure little bores with one of the most unimpressive lesbian relationships I've ever seen in fiction. They are So. Damn. *Samey.* They spend so much time reassuring each other and talking, so much that any conflict is brought up and resolved within pages. You can skip whole pages of dialogue and not miss a single thing of import!

On a similar note, all the other major characters have very similar flaws. They're all insecure and hate themselves in pretty, palatable ways. All of them are so afraid of hurting each other and reassuring each other, binging the comic is genuinely frustrating - I desperately wanted someone, anyone to have a different flaw besides "I'm insecure!" Just because it manifests in different ways does not mean they're different characters - they're the same characters with different set dressing.

None of these are bad characters, but they don't have a single interesting character dynamic to rub between them. Besides which, this connecting trait reveals an alarming reduction in what a good person is, compared to Kiwi Blitz - good people put others first, good people secretly aren't confident, good people hate themselves. In KB, Mary's earlier comic, the majority of characters are all trying to do the "right" thing, but have very different motivations and contexts around the concept, and here they're all... the same...

SD is most engaging when it follows Rue, an unregistered, confident magical girl with a lot of siblings. She's a conspiracy theorist, but she actively asks questions about and discusses her world - such as what's outside the barrier, how to study it, etc. Her confidence causes her to break things off with a very vulnerable character over a small lashing out, and was possibly the final snapping point in her depressive spiral. She's far more proactive than the mains in Figuring Out the World, and I would like SD a lot more if she had more focus!

Speaking of the world. I find the author. frustratingly liberal at times. As in, we've had very different experiences with mental health and Ms. Cagle's parents Probably Didn't Threaten To Send Her To A Ward Overseas For Being Suicidal :) Or torture her with an overdose of psychotropics to make her 'productive'. (you can read more about my experience here.) Opening up with loved ones has clearly been beneficial for her and that's awesome! Unfortunately some of us got tortured more for doing that. And her (so far) refusal to acknowledge that in her story is... such a massive gap in her worldbuilding?

So, despite setting up a system with a monetary benefit to torturing children, she refuses to actually depict a child being tortured by her parents into compliance with being a magical girl - the logical, ultimate conclusion of her capitalist system. All the parents are So Scared For Their Kids :( Ok, well - where's the parent who's scared of losing their meal ticket? Why Are You Setting These Things Up And Not Putting Your Whole Pussy Into It

The art and paneling are fantastic, and Ms. Cagle has some of the most clear action sequences in comics. Sleepless Domain is a great comic when it's not about the main characters.

Also the "teenagers" all talk like therapypilled 20somethings and it makes me nauseous

[yet-another-deanw-girl]

Chapter 9: Fairytales

||The Prophecy Series||

She knew for 15 years that this day would come. She knew her destiny had already been written. That her death had been foretold.

She knew she would have to stop him. She knew she would have to kill him. And she thought she was prepared for all of it. But the day she met him she realized how wrong she was…

Set in Season 10

Pairing: MoC!Dean x Female!OC

Warnings: the usual SPN, language

Episode mapping: Between episode 9 of season 10 "The Things We Left Behind" and episode 10 of season 10 "The Hunter Games"

Note: The events of this story are following season 10 of Supernatural and are taking place between October 2014 and July 2015. I tried to make sure that all the references to weapons, tech, etc. are accurate with the time period.

AN: This is my first time writing a fanfic but the story has been in my head for too long and it just needed to get out. I hope you like it.

AN: English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes.

The boys have been really quiet today. I  can hear them whispering every time I pass near the library opening. After they had returned from the case that Castiel needed help with, they had focused all their efforts to find some way to get rid of The Mark. They are trying to keep me away from it and I don't actually have any intention of getting involved in this. But the whispering and the conspiratorial looks are a little annoying. And I'm really bored. It's the middle of December. The holidays are near and I need some distraction to keep me from thinking about my family. So… a couple of days ago, I decided that I'm going to randomly sneak on them, just to annoy them.

They are looking at the screen of Sam's laptop. I see the webpage of a local museum. "We need to figure out a way to get in there. It will not be easy. Those museums have some serious security systems in place. And there is no way we can go in unnoticed in the middle of the day." Sam says. "I can get you in." I say and both of the Winchesters jump from their seats. Sam quickly closes the laptop and looks at me. "I'm serious. I can get you in." I repeat. When no one replies I continue. "I'm not asking why or what or any other question about the specifics… I'm just offering my help." The brothers look at each other, have their private silent conversation. I used to do the same with my sister when we were little. I think we lost this ability a while ago. "Ok." Sam says. "So… where is this museum?" I ask "How far away from here?" "35 miles give or take." Dean answers. "I need exact distance." "37 miles, which is 59.5 kilometers from here." Sam answers this time, quickly realizing the line of my questioning. "What are we talking about? A creature or an artifact?" "You said you are not asking questions…" Sam protests. "An artifact." Dean replies quickly, shrugging his shoulders. "Looking or stealing?" "Stealing." "Do you know where it is?" "Yes. In a private office on the second floor." "Ok…"  My mind is working quickly formulating a plan. I miss this part.  Creating a plan… Doing something… "This should work."

"This should work." Ema says.  I can literally see the wheels in her brain spinning.  She sits in front of Sam's laptop, opens it and starts to type quickly. Then she reaches for the phone in her pocket and dials some number without explaining anything. "How do you plan for us to get in?" Sam asks and she points to the laptop's screen where a page about a Christmas Gala is opened. "Hello! My name is Mariana and I'm a personal assistant of Lady Allina Starcoff." She starts talking to someone on the phone using a perfect Eastern European accent. "She is very interested of your charity and she would like to help about your cause." She is deliberately making some small mistakes while she is speaking.  "A Christmas Gala? Let me check her schedule. Yes. She has no event in this day."  … "Yes." … "We have some security conditions. You understand…" She presses some keys on the keyboard. "I just send you an email." … "Yes… Two. Is that a problem?" … "Ok. That's wonderful. I'll inform her." … "Thank you and good luck with the gala." She ends the call.

"Lady Starcoff will be escorted by her two bodyguards to The Annual Christmas Gala of The Museum of Foreign Art." She announces. "Who, the hell, is Lady Starcoff?" I ask, not getting what exactly is happening. "Lady Allina Starcoff, princess of Moravia, at your service." She curtsies. "Wait a minute! What?" Sam asks with wide eyes. "You are planning to steal the identity of a European royalty? There will be press there. And someone may know her. The Moravian royal family may not be the British one but they are still popular with all their charity work." My jaw drops and I stare at my brother.  What the hell is going on here?  He knows how this princess is.  How?  He looks at me and begins to explain.  "Moravia was a country in Europe that existed in the 9th and 10th century, but its royal family is still around and kinda beloved. Princess Allina was presumed dead for 10 years. Her parents and she were in a car accident when she was little and everyone believed they all died. But then about 12 years ago she reappeared again." "They all died." We both look at Emilia waiting for an explanation. "Allina Starcoff is one of my aliases. And no matter what happens, it should not be burned. So… I'm taking a risk here and I trust you not to do anything to expose me." She looks at us from head to toe. "You will need suits - black. Black shirts. Black ties. Black shoes. All black."

Tonight is the night of The Gala and we are gathered in the library to go over the plan for the last time. We are going to The Gala with Ema's Jeep. She and Sam agreed that it is more appropriate for a royal. That's the first time they have agreed about something and I'm pissed that it's about my Baby. When we arrive at the Gala, one of us will stay with her, the other one will 'walk the perimeter' and then will go to the office and take the book we need. After an hour or two, we will leave and no one will ever know that we took this book. It sounds easy.

"How many bodyguards does a fake Moravian princess need?" I joke.  I'm standing in the library dressed all in black. Sammy just rolls his eyes at my attempt at joking. "Well… It looks like exactly two." Ema's voice sounds behind us and we turn around to face her.  My breath stops in my lungs when I see her.  I'm used to seeing her in grain stained jeans and graphic t-shirts. I have never denied that she is a beautiful woman but now… now she is breathtaking.  She is wearing a long satin dress in a deep green color with thin straps and a long slit going way above her left knee, and I mean way above it, showing her long leg. And high heels shoes.  Fuck me!  How am I supposed to concentrate on the plan tonight when she looks like this? "Dean, stop staring at me like you haven't seen a woman in a dress. And close your mouth before you start drooling all over the floor." Emilia says and passes by me heading to the stairs. "Well… I haven’t seen you in a dress… You look kinda different from what I'm used to…"

Created with Microsoft Designer

The back of the dress is low showing her soft pale skin. Her coppery hair is twisted in an intriked way and gathered in the low of her neck leaving her back completely exposed. I have the strange urge to trail the length of her spine with my fingers… or maybe with my… Wait a minute! Coppery?! Ema’s hair is warm brown… "Your hair…" "Temporary dye…” Sam slaps my shoulder and brings me out of my daze. "Let's go!"

Created with Microsoft Designer

"Are those daggers?" Sam asks through clenched teeth, referring to the embellishments entwined in Ema's hair. We have arrived at the museum and now Emilia is climbing the stairs to the main entrance of the building. There are photographers everywhere and some of the journalists seem to recognize her. She smiles and waves at them assuming the role of a princess without an effort. "No! Those are throwing spikes." She answers while smiling at the cameras barely moving her lips. "I'm not going completely unarmed on an infiltration operation when I don't even know what to expect of it." "Silver?" I ask. "And steel… the rings do not look well with that dress…" She smirks at me. This woman and her blades… It's… kinda sexy… We go inside and Sam is quick to give the invitation to the doorman. I hear Emilia's sharp intake of breath and see her posture stiffening. The man's eyes widen when he sees the name on the invitation and looks at Emilia with adoration. "Milady, thank you for supporting our cause. It means a lot to us." "It means a lot to me too." She smiles at him warmly.  The man clears his throat and then he announces with a slightly trembling voice. "Her royal highness, Allina Starcoff, princess of Moravia." Every single person in the room turns to look at her while she descends the stairs. "Ok boys… Game on…"

We are greeted by an overly excited woman that makes an attempt of curtsying. She starts explaining with too many hand gestures the program for the evening. I had stopped listening to the woman but when I notice Ema's back going tense I start to pay attention to the conversation again. "He is?" Ema's voice is pleasant but I notice the hint of coldness in it. I know this voice. She uses it when she is in soldier mode. "Yes!" The woman answers and her excitement grows with every word. "He arrived about half an hour before you. I hope it's not too awkward for you… But I can't believe we have not just one but two royalties here tonight." After another five minutes the woman leaves us alone in search of the head of the museum so she can introduce him to Emilia. "Do we have a problem?" Sam asks before I can even formulate a question. "No." Emilia says quietly. "Who is this count?" Sam insists. "My ex… sort of…" Before Sam, or me in that matter, can ask any more questions, the woman returns with a bald man and introduces him to Emilia.  They start talking about the museum and the work they do and that is the signal for one of us to leave and get the book. We check the coms that Emilia had given us and I tell Sam to go.  I'm not leaving her out of my sight...  Not when she looks like that...  Not when her ex is here…  Sam looks at me with a 'We need to talk about this later. I know what you are doing'  look and goes to the stairs.

"We have a problem." I hear Sam's voice in my ear. "The b… the artifact is locked with some kind of biometric lock. We will need the director of the museum to open it." Ema is talking with yet another one of The Gala attendees but she looks at me and I understand her without any problem. "Looks like Em can open it." I say to my brother. "Dean, we had talked about this." Sam says. "We don't have a choice, Sammy… It's either her or we need to kidnap the director of the museum in the middle of The Gala…"  He has no other choice but to agree with me and when he appears he stations himself on the other end of the hall. A man approaches the small group gravitating around Ema. "Allina!" I hear him through Ema's com. This must be the count. "I haven't seen you in a while. How are you?" I can hear the venom hidden in his voice. Well… it looks like the separation was not smooth at all. "I'm well." Emilia's reply is polite but drained of any emotions. "How are you? It's really been a while since our last meeting." I can hear that there is more meaning behind their words. Things about the last time they have seen each other that only they know about. "Will you grant me the honor to dance with me?" "It would have been my pleasure, you know I can not refuse you, but unfortunately you will have to excuse me tonight. I'm not in the mood to dance." She curtsies barley and walks away from the group excusing herself. She makes her way to the hallway and Sam and I follow her. "What was that?" I'm quick to ask. "You mean, the hidden language of the court? I hate this part. But let's get that book of yours and get out of here before I'm forced to talk with Anton again." She starts climbing the steps to the second floor and we follow her. When she is on the top of the stairs she glances at Sam and he points her in the right direction. I enter the office after her and close the door. Sam stays down the hallway ready to warn us if someone is approaching. I point the glass library shelf to Ema. "It's the small brown leather one with the strange gold symbol embossed on the spine." She turns her back to me, pulls her phone from her clutch bag, connects it to the lock with a cable and starts typing on the screen. After a minute the phone beeps and the lock clicks open. I approach the shelf but before I can reach she grabs the book. "Incoming." Sam says in my ear. Emilia quickly closes the glass door of the library shelf and turns around bumping into me. We hear the door handle moving and she grabs me by the collar of my jacket and pulls me to her. I instinctively grab her by her waist, pinning her to the shelf behind her. My fingers are digging to her lower back, my other hand on her bare thigh, her leg is wrapped around me, our bodies so close that I can feel every rise and fall of her breasts pressed against me. My mouth is millimeters from the silky skin of her neck. Her skin is hot, her breathing - uneven and shallow.

Created with Microsoft Designer

"Emi…" I breathe out, moving my hand even higher on her thigh. I try to grasp every inch of bare skin I can find. "What are you…" Fuck! I want this woman! Here! Now! The door opens and quickly closes and then opens again. "Look what we have here!" "Fuck!" Ema curses in my ear and her breath causes a shiver to go through my body. "Please, don't do anything stupid. I'll handle him. I can not burn this alias." She pleads. "Isn't that my gorgeous fiancée? With her bodyguard… again!" Now I recognize the voice.  The count.  Anton.  Ema's ex…  Fiancé? Ema gently pushes me away and straightens her dress. "Wait for me outside." She tells me looking straight in my eyes with determination. I straighten my jacket and that's when I realize she had put the book and her phone in my inner pocket. "You have forgotten two really important adjectives there." She says passing around me and strolling to the man. "Ex, and more importantly - fake, fiancée." I stop at the door but do not open it, deciding to remain in the room. "It looks like your poor taste in man has not changed a bit." The man continued speaking. "And I bet yours haven't either. Are you still fucking every pretty servant working for your parents? At least, I can bring mine to events like this…" He grabs her by her waist and pulls her flush against his chests. "You fucking tease… I'm going to show you…" Before I can move to stop him, she is already twisting his arm behind his back, bending him over the desk. "I have tried to be civil with you but I'm done trying." She says in his ear. "We had a business arrangement. And I had told you, from the very beginning, it would be just business. I would have never slept with you and I will never sleep with you. This is not happening! So keep your hands to yourself. And if you ever try to touch me again I'll break your fingers one by one. Are we clear?" He just nods frantically, clearly too scared to speak. "Are… we… clear?" Emilia repeats slowly, emphasizing every word. "Y… Yes." He manages to whisper. Damn! This woman is hot as hell! Emilia releases him and turns to the door. By the look on her face I see she hadn't realized I was still in the room. I just smile at her and open the door for her. She smiles back and walks out of the room.

It took us another hour after we took the book before we had managed to leave The Gala. Despite my interaction with Anton the night was not a total disaster. We have the book and my cover is still intact. "I can't read any of it." Sam says from the passenger seat of my Jeep. "Let me see." Dean says and shifts his eyes from the road to the book in his brother's hands. "Nope. Me neither." "Hm… Interesting…" I look over Sam's shoulder. The two of them turn around looking at me. The irony doesn't escape me. This all ended like it started. "It's some kind of a Slavic dialect. An old one but I can still read it." "Give her the book." Dean command.  Sam hesitates for a long moment but then gives me the book. "How can you read it?" Sam asks "It's close enough to my native language." I realize that I have never told them where I'm from but they also had never asked.  "You still believe this is all just a coincidence?" Dean asks his brother. "It's just legends and fairytales." I tell them while going through the book's pages with adoration. "It's written around 1825. That makes it extremely valuable because of the period. But I don't think you will find the thing you are looking for in it." "Can you translate it anyway?" Sam asks me and when I look at him I see the plea in his expression.  I nod in confirmation.

Chapter 10: Good Morning, Princess >>

||The Prophecy Series||

[possuminnit]

you should tell me about your oc quinn :3

LETS GO !. ok urmmer right so i dont know how much ive really talked about quinns (and melek's universe by proxy) but the whole idea is that its just absolutely gone, again imagine wall-e universe, thats kinda what its like for hers. shes the only 'living' left wandering around but shes like, really old, shes not a really high-tech robot for the universe and really shes sort of scrappy, even if it doesnt seem that wayy... its really surprising that she even functions still, she does regular updates (as she calls it, but it doesnt really update her, just makes sure everything works in a way to keep her working) by hooking herself up to where she woke up, she has to attach a bunch of pipes to her and a system boots up and does all the work for her. its kinda ,very clunky and a mess and half the time it takes the system and hour before it can even process quinn is attached to it. but like it works so she just lives with it and hopes with all her non-existent heart that it doesnt break. ALSO like wall-e, she has a little place where she stores trinkets from humans, she has books too but a lot are unusable or missing chunks of pages, but some she can read (and has). she has a collection of cigarette boxes too, some with a few scattered in them