#The Alien Alliance

[evilhorse]

The shapeshifters of Durla.

(Invasion! #1)

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

"FOR I HAVE DISCOVERED THE SECRET OF THE METAGENE!" -- SUPERPOWERS BIOLOGICALLY EXPLAINED IN THE DC UNIVERSE.

PIC(S) INFO: Spotlight on the DC Universe equivalent of Marvel's "X-gene," the introduction of the "metagene" in DC Comics -- artwork from "Invasion!" Vol. 1 #1 ["The Alien Alliance"]. December, 1988. DC Comics.

"The question that launched my caste superiors on their invasion of Earth was: what is it that allows a handful of otherwise normal humans to survive near-encounters with death -- and more -- to develop super-powers? The answer is the metagene -- a biological variant lying dormant in select members of the human race... until an instant of extraordinary physical and emotional stress activates it. A spontaneous chromosomal combustion then takes place..."

-- THE DOMINATORS, on the biological origin and/or function of the metagene

STORY/SCRIPT: Keith Giffen & Bill Mantlo

PENCILERS: Todd McFarlane

INKERS: P. Craig Russell, Al Gordon, various

COLORISTS: Carl Gafford

Sources: https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Metagene, Zip Comic, various, etc...

[keycomicbooks]

Invasion #1 (1988) Todd McFarlane Cover, Bill Mantlo Story, Todd McFarlane Pencils, Joe Rubinstein & P. Craig Russell Inks, 1st Appearance of The Blasters, The Alien Alliance, Garryn Bek & Brainiac II 

#Invasion #1 (1988) #ToddMcFarlane Art, #BillMantlo Story, #JoeRubinstein & #PCraigRussell Inks, 1st Appearance of The Blasters, The Alien Alliance, Garryn Bek & Brainiac II "The Alien Alliance!" - When a coalition of alien empires decide to invade planet Earth, the World's Greatest Heroes unite! But against the power of the stars aligned against them, not even the World's Greatest Heroes may be enough to save the planet this time. https://www.rarecomicbooks.fashionablewebs.com/Invasion.html#1 @rarecomicbooks Website Link In Bio Page If Applicable. SAVE ON SHIPPING COST - NOW AVAILABLE FOR LOCAL PICK UP IN DELTONA, FLORIDA #KeyComicBooks #DCComics #DCU #DCUniverse #KeyIssue

[bet-on-me-13]

The Ambassador

So! It was finally happening. After Years of Pleading with the Guardians and other Ruling Bodies of the Galactic Community, the Justice League had finally gotten then to agree to create an Alliance with Earth.

With an Alliance, Earth would gain the Protection of Multiple Empires and The Guardians, which would mean an end to the Constant Alien Invasions they faced. There was also the legal opening of Trade Routes between Planets to exchange Technology and Resources on the Galactic Scale.

Of course Earth would return the Favor, legally being able to defend it's Allies with its unusually large population if Superheroes and quickly advancing Tech, while also trading Tech and Resources between Planets.

Of course the battle was not entirely won yet.

They still needed to begin Negotiations to see if both sides would even agree to the Alliance in the First Place, as well as decide on the specifics of the Treaty. The United Nation's would decide on Ambassadors to represent the different countries, while the different Alien Governments would send an Ambassador Each.

When the Ambassadors arrived, they asked to be introduced to the Representatives of the Planet. Except, they claimed that there was a missing Member.

They claimed that there was one more Major Kingdom on the Planet, the most Powerful One, which they felt must be at the Negotiations.

When asked who this missing Ambassador was, they simply replied, "King Phantom of the Infinite Realms, he and a Shard of his Kingdom reside on this Planet, do they not?"

Now they are working around the clock to find this missing Kingdom, because the Alien Ambassadors refused to negotiate without the most powerful Kingdom at the Table, and they woud not wait forever.

Just who was this "King Phantom", and why had he not revealed himself yet?

...

Sam and Tucker sat on the Couch in their apartment, staring at the TV as the Chosen Representatives for America finished their Speech. Apparently the Peace Talks had been put on Hold for a few more days as they did some last minute preparations. Something about making their Guests more comfortable before they began discussing politics.

"Hey Danny, they're delaying the Negotiations for a few more days." Sam called over to the Kitchen.

"Aw, what?!" Shouted Danny from the Kitchen, sounding extremely disappointed, "I just finished making all the Popcorn!"

"I know Honey, its too bad." Tucker comforted his Partner, "Let's marathon Star Trek instead, how about that?"

Danny slumped out of kitchen and into the Couch between them, steaming bowl of Popcorn in his Lap, "I guess. We can make good use of all this popcorn at least."

Sam patted him on the arm, "Hey it's okay, the Talks will just take a few more days."

Danny shrugged, "Yeah, you're right. Man, what I wouldn't give to be in that Room."

[dcbinges]

Invasion! #1 (1988) by Todd McFarlane, Keith Giffen & Bill Mantlo

[bleh1bleh2]

He's just looking. Its fine.

[hhyesunn]

Basic info

Name: Aubin Arye Gender: Male Pronouns: he/him Species: Twi'lek Homeworld: Ryloth Age: 34 Affiliation: Sith Empire (formerly Darth Nox), Galactic Alliance (Commander) Partner: Talos Drellik (husband) Family Tree:

Personality: Always calm and collected, Aubin may seem aloof and intimidating for others. He is set on his personal goals, but compared to other Sith, he's not clawing his way up ruthlessly, relying more on his cunning and connections. Is ambitious, bordering on workaholic. Due to his upbringing and background, he always insists on doing things himself, rather than relying on the work of others or droids. Has a firm belief that he's always right (up to debate), but doesn't have to always say it out loud. Aubin was always fascinated with history and archaeology, especially Twi'lek and alien heritage. Loves doing acts of service for people he appreciates. Questions authority and despises other Sith, with a few exceptions. Additional info:

Knows Ryl and Basic, sometimes his Ryl accent is more noticeable,

Is a vegetarian,

Has ear piercings (simple studs) made by his sister,

Has tooth gems,

Has slave collar scars that faded over time,

Has to wear glasses, but does that occasionally,

He's a Capricorn -- Links: Aubin + Talos age through story Update 5.10.24 Ship chart OC relationships&affiliations chart

[commiepinkofag]

A gay “kiss-in” demonstration Yonge and Bloor streets, Toronto, 17 July 1976

L to R: David Foreman, Tim McCaskell, Ed Jackson, Merv Walker, David Gibson, Michael Riordon. Credit: Gerald Hannon, Canadian Lesbian and Gay Archives, accession 1986-032/08P(35).

On February 9, 1976, gay activists Tom Field and Bill Holloway were arrested at the corner of Yonge and Bloor streets in Toronto for kissing in public. They were charged with obstructing the sidewalk and committing an indecent act. Ironically, the men had been posing for photographs for an article on homophobia to be published in the now-defunct newspaper Alternative to Alienation. …

Field and Holloway were found guilty of committing an indecent act by Judge Charles Drukarsh on July 13, 1976, and were each fined $50. The ruling infuriated Gay Alliance Toward Equality [GATE], the Body Politic, and members of the community. The need for protest was in the air, but only a very special kind of protest would do. 

A few days later, on July 17, GATE and the Body Politic sponsored a kiss-in to support the right for gay people to publicly show affection. About twenty people paraded in same-sex couples at Yonge and Bloor streets, kissing as they walked. Policemen watched from the sidelines, but did not intervene. The protesters had made their point. — Donald W. McLeod

[eorzeashan]

Commander Stew

Theron cooks something for the Commander.

Odessen - The Kitchens

A young man sporting a dollop of white hair and refined features entered the communal kitchen of the Alliance carrying a large crate, wearing a plain burlap apron, rubber gloves, and waders over what usually would qualify as a stealth suit–a bit of an odd sight, but one Theron had gotten used to over time.

“Hey! You’re back early. Put ‘em down over there,” Theron glanced over his shoulder, nodding briefly at the young man, then motioning with his head at the kitchen island. Eight squeezed past him as he ran his hands under the faucet, careful not to bump into the other spy. They set down the box on the counter and patiently folded their hands, awaiting instructions.

Theron turned off the sink and flung the remnant droplets off his hands, drying them with a slightly stained checkerboard dish towel.

Even with his fearsome past, Theron found the quiet operative to be pleasant company most days, with Eight acting as his assistant in daily matters ranging from mundane chores to deadly missions. All at the behest of Lana, of course. She was the one who insisted on (see: forced) a pair of helping hands for him after he'd incorrectly assumed she’d wanted him to take on all her burdens.

Not that he was complaining about the extra hands. Certainly not today of all days–he was planning something special, and that required all of the help he could get.

Theron opened the flaps of the crate. Fresh from their gardening plot in the Odessen fields, the box was practically bursting with colorful root vegetables and leafy greens native to the planet. Purple, orange, striped yellows and swirls of blue–all packed with vitamins and the healthy color of a successful crop. Plain proof that their efforts to cultivate more organic food for the personnel had finally given fruit, after several long winters of withered stalks and exhausting meals of food chips.

Theron smiled wryly. He’d have to make a toast to Dr. Oggurrobb’s fertilizer and the Force Enclave’s agricultural knowledge later.

“Will this be enough?” Eight asked, mellow as ever. He watched him coolly through deep umber eyes.

“It’s more than enough,” Theron answered, a bit of uncertainty leaking into his tone as he stared at the foodstuffs. The vegetables taunted him from their comfy spot atop the counter next to the impressive array of knives and cooking utensils laid out side-by-side like an interrogation toolkit. “...I think.” He wiped the tip of his nose.

Theron hated to admit it, but he was no culinarian. Master Zho had never taught him (really, what could you teach a kid to cook in the wilderness besides canned goods and pre-packaged rations), and his stint as a SIS agent since his youth had left him with little time to prepare nor care. The extent of his cooking repertoire could quickly be summed up to sticking a frozen Orobird leg in the flash oven and waiting for two minutes, sadly.

So why was he making an effort now?

The image of the Commander’s tired face weary from battle and sleepless nights, aging lines etched deep into their skin with the carvings of a destiny too large for one person, flashed in Theron’s mind. He’d seen the way they’d fought–skipped meals, denied themselves sleep, hid the way their gaze turned vacant when they thought no one was looking, left their cafeteria plate practically untouched, compounded blackened bottoms of endless cups of caf, the stims—the Commander was burning themselves at both ends.

Hypocritical as it was, he couldn’t stand watching them drive themselves into the ground. The galaxy’s fate was important, but…not as important as they were to Theron. Yet he found himself at a loss; what words he wanted to tell them to eat better, to sleep more, to stop hurting themselves fell short whenever the Commander gave him that one look. That look of resignation, deep as the dull ache that would settle in his chest afterwards.

“I’m okay,” They’d tell him, smiling wan, “Thank you, Theron.” It’s alright. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me.

Like hell he couldn’t. He–

“Theron…?”

Theron snapped out of his reverie, realizing he’d been wringing the dishcloth far too tightly for too long. Eight stared at him, puzzled. He released it. His knuckles returned to their previous pink.

“...Sorry. Just. Tired,” Theron shook his head, massaging his temples. Tired. Yeah. He was sure someone else was too, and he hadn’t asked Eight to come here to watch him have a breakdown. Pushing off from the counter, he clapped his hands together, mustering up a second wind. “Let’s get to work. Shall we?”

Commander Stew

Ingredients:

Young Makrin Legs

Orobird Soup Stock

Rootleaf, 1 Head

Imperial-issued Instant Glowblue Noodles, 1 Package

Republic Synth-Ham and Grophet Sausages

Odessen Wild Onions

Mandalorian Spice Sauce

Zakuulan Swamp Glowshrooms

Slice of Ration Cheese

Directions:

Prepare the young makrin legs by soaking them in water and shaving the fibrous exterior with a peeler.

Theron stared at the unassuming pile of…legs that resembled roots more than they did the limbs of any creature, and secretly shuddered. Makrins weren’t particularly uncommon on terrestrial worlds, but their crabby, tree-like appearance and tendency to wallow in loam didn't make them his first choice to eat. He wasn't exactly opposed to adventurous cuisine, but he wondered how exactly the legs of a chitinous creature equaled something that would make the Commander more appetized.

As if sensing his cause for pause, Eight peered over his shoulder where he stood frozen with peeler in hand. “The Jedi recommended them for use in medicinal dishes. When eaten boiled, it lowers blood pressure, and contains many nutrients.” He said thoughtfully, as if reading an entry from an encyclopedia.

“Is that so.” Theron inwardly balked at the mention of the Jedi–a little known fact was that Master Zho had raised him on Jedi cuisine, most of it vegetarian, but even then he hadn’t sampled every bit of agriculture the galaxy had to offer. Makrin legs were a bit out there, but seeing as they were native to Odessen, recommended by the enclave and another piece of stress relief on a plate for the Commander? His survival training told him the harmless limbs could only benefit, despite their gnarly appearance.

Remove the tips and fibrous base. When cleaned and processed, set aside.

He buckled down and began shaving the legs. Lack of proper nutrition was always a deciding factor in conflict–Theron had seen his fair share of soldiers who contracted disease from improper eating and lack of supplies– and he would feed the Commander any bit of ugly vegetables if it meant seeing a little more life restored to their pallid cheeks. His fingers found their rhythm as he removed the tough outer skin from the legs exposing their soft white core beneath the blade of the peeler, their texture reminding him oddly of Dantooinian tubers with an extra coat of slime.

Slice and dice half of a medium-sized onion.

Theron had to pretend he wasn't looking particularly emotional as he chopped the onion. Or maybe he was simply brought to tears at the thought that their food could have flavor for once, all thanks to the Alliance’s team of scouts who procured such supplies for them from the unmapped regions of Odessen’s wilds. Eight was among that team, hence Theron's willingness to let an Imp spy of all people join him in cooking. There was only a small handful of people he could use to conceal his efforts from the Commander, and Theron would make use of both his ability to obtain food in secret and his espionage skills to see this through, opposing factions be damned.

And if others worried about poisoning, well. He didn't pride himself on being Chief of Security for nothing. The safety of the Commander was his priority, as were the characters of those he chose to fight alongside them. They were his responsibility. His to trust with their most important fight and everything in-between. Theron couldn't afford to keep the old grudges that the Republic and Empire maintained in these desperate times, and he would not fall victim to their need to blind themselves with their unending war. He had to fight for what was important, and that was…people. Not sides.

Theron would always be a son of the Republic at his heart. But now his heart belonged to another, and those lines had long blurred.

Slice the glowshrooms length-wise, removing the head from the stems. Set aside.

Clean and cut the rootleaf in half, then the following halves into quarters; chop into smaller squares until you have about 1 cup’s worth of rootleaf. Store the rest in a cool, refrigerated place.

Unpackage the Synth-Ham, Republic Ration #0625, and slice to desired thickness.

Theron opened the can of mystery meat and upended it onto the chopping board. The green ham-like substance plopped onto it with gelatinous grace. He poked it with his cooking knife. It jiggled away from the tip.

Eight placed an empty pot next to him along with a can of opened grophet sausages and an unwrapped package of Imperial ration Glowblue Noodles, their signature color shining through the foil. Theron quickly thanked him out of the corner of his mouth.

Arrange the rootleaf, onion, makrin legs, and glowshrooms at the bottom of the pot in even layers.

Add a helping of Mandalorian Spiced Sauce on top.

Theron couldn't forget Torian and his people. They were the ones who suggested using their own spices for the hotpot, as “no other spice in the galaxy compares to that of a Mando’s.” Though he’d initially expressed some reservations at setting the Commander’s tongue aflame, this special mix had been made with their preference in mind; Shae had been so impressed by their valor that she presented several crates worth as a gift after the battle of Darvannis. Spices were a luxury if not a grand gesture in wartime, and not one Theron intended to use lightly.

Add the Synth-Ham, grophet sausages, and top with a slice of ration cheese over the previous ingredients.

Finally, add the Glowblue Noodles and 3 liters of Orobird stock.

Theron blinked at the finished product. “Wait a minute. This is…”

“Revanite stew?” Eight once again helpfully supplied.

It was Theron’s turn to ask the questions as he raised a suspicious brow towards his sous-chef. “They ate this during the coalition, when the camps combined. How did you get the same recipe?”

Eight smiled quietly to himself, in his mysterious and elusive way. “Our Commander was there. It was their idea to share food across factions. I still haven't forgotten its taste. If you ask any of the soldiers from that time, they will say the same.”

Theron stared at him, speechless. To think the same recipe he’d been making this entire time was a result of their union on Rishi…he recalled seeing Imperial and Republic soldiers bonding over a cookpot, but hadn't joined in, content to watch the proceedings from a distance. So much had happened during Revan’s rise that he’d failed to pay enough attention to something so innocuous as a moment of camaraderie between unlikely allies.

It had been their idea to eat something both Imperial and Republic that fateful night. To form the basis of their Alliance over a simple, warm bowl of soup.

Theron felt his heart swell.

He…he had to remind them of what they had built. What they meant to him. With this.

Set on top of a burner and deliver to recipients with bowls to share.

Theron held his breath as he wheeled the cart of foodstuffs to the Commander’s quarters, careful to avoid jostling the stew that balanced atop it as he reached his destination. He rapped on the door with the back of his knuckles.

A puff of pnematic air revealed the Commander, yawning wearily from yet another sleepless night of work and burdens. “Yes–” They stopped. “Theron? What are you doing here?” They eyed his cart. “And what's with all the food?”

Theron cracked a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thought you could use some dinner, so…I brought you some. If you don't mind, that is.” He quickly added, feeling out of place in the deserted hallway.

The Commander smiled, a genuine one that reached their eyes, crinkling at the edges. “I’d love to try whatever you made. Come in, we can eat it together.” They stepped aside to allow Theron room to maneuver.

Enjoy with your intended party.

As expected, it was delicious.

Not as filling as seeing the Commander laugh to the point of tears at his explanations as to why he'd been so secretive all week trying to hide the fruits of his cooking from them, but filling nonetheless. He'd give it a 5/5, personally, as a true soup for the soul. (And a note to make it again with less sneaking around).

If the Commander was satisfied and satiated... so was he.

[spicynectarines]

I hc that after going to the ascendancy Ronan immediately died cuz he caught some wild space disease he didn’t have immunity to and perished like a victorian child

[alienpossession]

"Give me that phone or you'll regret it, twerp," said the alien menacingly using Artem's body and controlling the gymowner like a puppet as he threatened the new cleaning boy, Julian

Julian is cornered and practically have nowhere else to go. The lack of people in the gym as it's in the middle of renovation practically left him all alone with his possessed gym owner. The situation is clearly not in his favor but then his intrusive thoughts caused him to splutter

"Or what? You'll slither into me? Well, you would do that in instance you caught me red-handed recording you, but you didn't, so you probably can't!" He said as his eyes just widened in shock on how he said all that with no stutter whatsoever

Artem grabbed Julian's by the neck and lifted him up high from the floor of the gym. He swiftly grabbed Julian's phone and then stared at the flailing Julian

"Who the fuck sent you? Are you not human? How the hell you know that I cannot get inside of you while I'm controlling a newly-acquired vessel?"

"I---I don't k---know to be honest....I just g--guessed,"

Artem just stared in disbelief as he let Julian off from his chokehold.

"Guessed? Well, that can't be just random guessing. You are smart, human. You assess your condition and surrounding to make such judgement. You are probably smarter than this tool I'm inside," Artem said referring to himself as the alien made it clear that Artem is simply no longer exist

"T---thank you. Honestly, I'm not going to share the video or anything. I'm just going to have it for my personal use, but you deleted it....."

"No I haven't. It's still in your phone. Why are you recording me again if you are not trying to expose my presence?"

"I don't know.....I'm always an alien geek at heart.....having a memento or proof of alien existence is something that I will forever cherish. And you're inside my boss.....my ruthless cold boss.....this is the most conversation I have with him,"

"Why is your heart beat rising and your penis hardening?" asked the alien so nonchalantly as he grabbed Julian's pants all in a sudden, "this is a sign of arousal for you human...."

Julian's face turned beet red as he stuttered to respond to the question, having his employer's strong calloused hands cupping his balls through his jeans

"Are you aroused by your boss? Wait, ohhh.....hahahahah, this is not the first time Artem caught you like a perv videotaping him, right? You sick little pervert," Artem said as he squeezed Julian's ball and then unzipped his jeans to have a more direct access to the hardening meat

"You are hard for your boss, huh? Your tiny dicklet is hard looking at your boss striated muscle and instead of helping him when I slid into him, you keep on recording because you've never seen your boss in such position, begging for his dear life and straining all his muscle to fight me. Am I right? Well, you don't have to answer it, your pulsating cock and increasingly quick heart is enough to tell me everything. I'm a good guesser too, you know?" He said as his hand practically squeezing and milking the shit out of Julian's dick. A couple more purposeful tug at the 5.5" rod and with Julian already cornered to the wall by Artem's increasingly warmer body, it eventually released a fountain of white sticky mess all over his own underwear and Artem's hand that slid into it. Artem smirked as he released his hands from Julian's pants and then give each of his fingers a sensual lick while grimaced at the sour taste of it

"I can give you more of this, and even more excitement. You are no snitch, that's a good start, and I like to keep you close so I can always watch over you. Besides, a helping hand won't be too bad while I'm trying to start my own settlement here on Earth. So, what do you think?" Artem said as he extended his sticky hands to Julian

[evilhorse]

Attention, caste superiors of Earth!

(Invasion! #1)

[dykedvonte]

The Khans - My Introspective

I don't like the Military and I don't support a lot of the actions the NCR does to the Mojave in New Vegas but in terms of the Khans I feel like the fandom infantilizes or diminishes the fact that they are or at least one of the most violent raider groups in the Mojave.

What happened at Bitter Springs was a tragedy, innocent lives were lost and the fact that the NCR swept it under the rug and continued to hunt down Khans that are truly trying to back down and resettle is horrendous, but there is a history to the NCR's aggression towards them.

The Khans first appear in Fallout 1, the main faction of raiders in the game besides the mentioned Vipers (who don't actually appear if I remember correctly). They came from Vault 15 along with the members that would form rival groups; The Vipers, The Jackals, and Shady Sands. They are a very large and foreboding raiding party, known for burning towns and encampments they attack and taking survivors as their slaves or slaves to sell. They are a big reason why the Jackals and Vipers are actually so small in New Vegas, they wiped them out.

Their main targets where Shady Sands and Junker town, the former of the two would be what became The New California Republic. This explains a big part of their animosity towards the Khans, only furthered by the fact the Khans kidnapped Tandi as a young girl, the girl that would go to offically found the NCR out of Shady Sands. When the dweller saved her and killed much of the Khans, this allowed the NCR to develop into what it currently is as they no longer needed to focus on fighting off constant raids.

When the Khans became the New Khans in Fallout 2, they barely resembled the Khans as they were led by Darion, Garl Death-Hand's son (former leader of the Khans). They were smaller and refortified vault 15, still planning to take down the NCR (at this time nowhere near as imperialist as they are in FNV) as mostly a revenge/power ploy. They manipulate The Squat, a group of y'know squatters, that lived in the upper levels, promising and lying about repairing the vault and offering them ransacked caravan resources if they kept the NCR away. Being their only life line The Squat had no choice. Still the chosen one got rid of them and they left New California for the untapped Mojave.

The Great Khans, the most current iteration, continued in the path as the original Khans, regrouping and gaining information from the Followers who hoped they'd use their new medical knowledge to heal themselves. They gained more members and a substantial part of Vegas territory before they were run out by the three families. They were pushed to Bitter Springs where they first and foremost continued to pick off and attack NCR settlements, most of which consisted of caravans, towns, and camps as they saw them as easy like in their old days. It was the killing of four influential Republic members (non-military) that brought on Bitter Springs.

Bitter Springs was the result of years of hatred and animosity and likely the goal to send a final message to the Khans. It does not excuse the fact that innocent men, women, and children were slaughtered with few survivors. It does not excuse the fact that the NCR has yet to make amends for this and continues to try and persecute the Khans even in moments of surrender.

This post is not to defend what happened but to give a quick rundown of the Khan's history and their history with the NCR. It's to remind people that the NCR is not just their military power but an actual group/settlement of people that were also attacked indiscriminately by the Khans. It's to point out that the Khans were not a band of indigenous people (no matter the comparisons) driven from their homes but raiders who fed into the brutal cultures of the west coast wasteland and were in turn treated to the same things.

My frustration comes from the fact that FNV has so many comparisons to indigenous struggles but the groups it chooses are not comparable at all. Their oppression hinges on not being familiar with their past, which explains why they have the reputation they do in canon. The "tribes" are often not even groups of minorities or have goals/desires out of acquisitions of power and I feel like it is important to both acknowledge that this is bad indigenous rep because it is not supposed to be. It is supposed to be a comparison of the in-game groups and how they all do the same things and justify it in their own fucked up ways, some better at it than others.

FNV of all the Fallout games (in light of it being heavily Western based) distastefully uses indigenous imagery and theming for groups that are sad mimicries of American indigenous cultures at best and outright offensive at worst.

[canned-and-carbonated-emotions]

Fuck aliens. Let's form a united society with ceteceans. They're smart enough. They have a decodable language that we could eventually learn to translate. They're essentially sea people and they deserve rights. Opposable thumbs should not be the threshold.

This is how I want political debates to look like in the future:

[chadsuke]

Books Read in 2024:

Little Mushroom: Judgement Day by Shisi (2022)

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System Vol. 1 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu (2021)

The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System Vol. 2 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu (2022)

The Musician and the Monster by Jenya Keefe (2019)

A Deceptive Alliance by Sydney Blackburn (2018)

Cinder by Marissa Meyer (2012)

Claimed by the Orc Prince by Lionel Hart (2022)

The Witch King by H.E. Edgmon (2021)

The Disabled Tyrant's Beloved Pet Fish Vol. 2 by Xue Shan Fei Hu (2024)

[ID: Covers of the aforementioned books. End ID.]

[dcbinges]

Invasion! #1 (1988) by Todd McFarlane, Keith Giffen & Bill Mantlo