#Unless I’m misremembering a stream

[nomsfaultau]

still can’t believe cctechno read anarchist literature to increase the accuracy of his Minecraft rp oc

[joltning]

oh thanks!! and thanks to this random redditor who knew to post this like 20 days ago Wtf. I guess I misremembered it as machinimated but close enough

I’m reposting the link regardless of if tumblr approves because…..this archive is like 700+ dvd files and I haven’t heard a wink about it Wtf. If there’s extra content you haven’t seen it’s probably here. thx For sharing

btw speaking of rvb Does anyone have this one video clip of like, a commentary with a few cut clips? I remember the Carolina-sleeves fight but also a machinimated segment with what I think was york pushing around a box. commentated by burnie and monty and one other person but I can’t remember who. saw it on a Reddit post but could not refind it Can someone find it for me thxxxxxxxx

[httpsdnf]

Hey you are one of the only blogs that i know that has been watching foolish long before december, so i have a question, did foolish create the :D emote? like the D: version

i’m pretty sure he did !!!!! unless i’m misremembering i think he actually made it on stream one day adjsjs i remember him like trying to size everything and get it all right

[a-luyarus]

@thesmpisonfire ok hi i guess will voice my thoughts lmao

i’ll start this off by saying i do have a bit of a bias towards ranboo’s character but i love and have followed both fundy and ranboo’s characters closely for a long time so i’ll try to keep this mostly objective lmao

i think the biggest issue that yipblr has with ranboo is that he never bothered to reach out to fundy after their big argument, but i would like to raise the question, why didn’t fundy ever reach out to ranboo? fundy recognized that ranboo was not in a good headspace (a headspace that only phil pulled him out of, hence why ranboo trusts phil and by extension techno so much), and yet he never tried to address it. ranboo has expressed his regret for that argument, as has fundy (i believe? unless i’m misremembering?), so right now that means one of them has to be brave enough to make that connection first, however due to all the other chaos going on right now, it’s hard to make that a priority (although i have hope since ranboo specifically mentioned reaching out to friends on todays stream).  so i’d say it’s hard to blame either for that, since circumstance has systemically stopped that from happening properly. 

i do agree to a certain extent that ranboo is a hypocrite, but i think fundy is one as well. ranboo thinks of people being divided by sides first rather than being connected by friendships first despite his mantra about choosing people (hence why he was so worried about tubbo’s perception of him after the “betrayal). fundy voiced that he wanted to end all sides, yet only fueled one side’s destruction before leaving and not trying to make any amends or reason with anyone but ranboo, which ultimately failed because honestly, fundy really did miss the point of ranboo’s argument. fundy thought that choosing people first meant turning to destruction, rather than finding and strengthening connection, something that both of them have failed to do for different reasons. 

i do understand why ranboo “turning his back” (though i personally believe he was just anxious and scared and had no idea where his place was in the world anymore was) on fundy was a poor decision, but i also think staying would have been one as well. who knows what fundy would’ve ended up doing if someone hadn’t straight up told him that it was wrong to lose all hope in connection like he had. i honestly think that neither of them had the other’s ideals and hopes at heart when they splintered apart, which honestly was mostly due to extremely poor circumstance. i also believe that in they end, they are very similar in how naively they view the world. ranboo believes balance can be achieved without taking in the ideas of greed and patriotism. fundy believes in validation above everything, whether that’s validation from a person or validation in his worries and in his predictions about the future, casting aside other friendships and loyalties in the process.

i wholeheartedly love both of their characters, and i hope that some day soon they make up and can be a team again. sorry this is just a mess of thoughts and i hope at least someone understands it lmao

[dreamologisth2o]

Analysis on c!Sam Based on c!Sam and c!Ranboo’s Conversation from Ranboo’s “He’s gone?” Stream

Ok, so, this is like, really really late all things considered but I’ve finally decided to post this here. A little while back I wrote a brief analysis on their conversation and posted it in the Syndicate discord and now I’m here to present a more polished version.

Disclaimer: This is an analysis on their dsmp characters, so assume any mention to be about the character and not the content creator unless specified. I do not watch cc!Sam’s streams so my knowledge of his character is fairly limited. All my analysis of his character will mostly be based directly on this particular conversation along with some supporting evidence from other relevant streams. More under the cut.

So! Summary about their conversation (at about 55 minutes into the stream): Ranboo confronts Sam over what happened in the prison and why Sam didn’t do anything to prevent it like getting Tommy out of the prison, especially since Sam knows about what happened between Dream and Tommy in exile. They talk about how Sam didn’t think Dream would kill Tommy and how he’s the highest authority in the prison at the moment, since the person who wrote the protocols is currently also the prisoner. They also talk about how visiting the prisoner works, and this is something I want to point out in their conversation.

Ranboo has just asked about how visitors leave the cell.

Sam: They leave without the lava ever going up, they, they-- the lava stays down. Once they go in it’s, it’s--. I have a very strict protocol that happens in the main cell, I don’t, I don’t just--”

Ranboo: Ok, ok so. Tell me if I’m wrong about this, tell me if I’m wrong about this. The way that the prison works, the lava goes down, the bridge goes out, the visitor steps on, the lava goes down. Then, what happens after to let the visitor out? Why couldn’t you have just done the same thing Sam?

Sam: Because what if Dream was waiting for me to do that?

Ranboo: Then you would, then you would be able to at least see that he wasn’t on the right side of the barrier, right? You could’ve, you could’ve seen that.

[pause]

Sam: Ranboo there was nothing I could’ve done.

[pause]

Ok! So lots of things to unpack here BUT lets start with the obvious. First off, Sam’s line about how visiting works. Here he explicitly states that once the lava goes down, it stays down. Which is true! We’ve seen how visiting Dream works multiple times and that to get out of the cell, the visitor is killed using a dispenser that shoots out a harming potion and respawns in the room outside the main cell. The lava is never lifted and the bridge is never sent across again. This prevents Dream from trying to escape using the way visitors leave. But what’s really interesting is Ranboo’s response. Ranboo says that Sam would be able to see if Dream was on the right side of the barrier. This implies that Ranboo thinks visitors get out the same way they come in, by the bridge. (which, makes sense since he’s only visited Dream while enderwalking, which he doesn’t remember, and the nightmare/hallucination he had about visiting Dream ended before he left the main cell.) And notably, Sam doesn’t correct him.

Summarizing the next bit, Ranboo asks Sam if there wasn’t anything he could’ve done, and Sam says if there was something he thought he could’ve done he would’ve done it. Sam then goes on to talk about what happened when Tommy died and how he’d tried to get there to stop it the moment he realized what was going on and that by the time he got there it was too late. He says he was screaming at Dream though the lava and that Dream only laughed in response.

Sam: I know I should’ve tried to do something but you have to understand I couldn’t let him leave.

Ranboo: [says something softly, can’t make out what]

Sam: What if Dream left with him, then where would I be? What it--what if when the lava was down Dream tried to kill him then and threatened if I didn’t let him cross he would kill him then I-- Tommy signed the books, he knew that there was a chance that everything could go wrong.

Ranboo: [softly] He could’ve used Tommy.... [pause] He could’ve used Tommy to not--to try to cross.

Sam: I know. And honestly I think if I had gone to do that. Had I--If he was holding him on the bridge, I would’ve had to have let him out. I--... I couldn’t let him go.

Now isn’t this interesting? Sam changes his story, he goes from “the lava stays down” to “when the lava was down”. Sam is playing into what Ranboo thinks happens when the visitor leaves. He even gives a hypothetical about how if Sam had tried to let Tommy out Dream could’ve threatened him into letting him out as well.

The rest of the conversation turns towards who might’ve been responsible for the TNT with Ranboo offering to help Sam if he finds any information on who it could be. (which, this can honestly be an entire analysis on it’s own but this one’s already way too long, what are you hiding enderboi?!). Near the end Ranboo also talks about how he thinks he’s at fault for Tommy’s exile due to his actions regarding burning George’s house down and the “butterfly effect”. Sam insists that it’s not his fault, and after convincing Ranboo to lend him his memory book, apologizes and writes down “TOMMY IS NOT MY FAULT. WHAT HAPPENED TO TOMMY WAS SAM’S FAULT. SAM IS RESPONSIBLE.” The conversation ends there with Sam telling Ranboo to let him know if he finds anything and they go their separate ways.

And I finally make it to my analysis 2 hours into writing this thing, help. Basically, boiling everything down into a few sentences: I believe Sam, who knows Ranboo has a bad memory, is playing into the fact that Ranboo is seemingly misremembering how visitors leave the main cell to create a plausible explanation for why he didn’t do anything to get Tommy out, possibly to help absolve himself of his own guilt. Because he definitely feels guilty about what happened. You can hear it in his voice, see it in the way he wants Ranboo to blame him by writing it down in his memory book. For Sam, saying that there was nothing more he could’ve done, would’ve justified his own inaction during the week (+ one day?) Tommy spent trapped in there with Dream.

So, if he’s feeling so guilty over leaving Tommy in there with Dream, then why didn’t he do anything? Why did he leave him there alone with Dream? Why was he so willing to break protocol, to break the contract and leave Tommy in there with Dream well past the 7 day mark? I’ve seen a lot of theories about how the Egg might be involved in this, and while I don’t think it’s a complete mind control brainwashing thing, I do think the Egg was/still is influencing some of his actions. (because isn’t it convenient that the one person who posed the greatest threat is now locked nicely and neatly away from whatever the Eggpire might be planning to do?)

There’s some evidence pointing to this, mostly, he didn’t seem particularly worried about Tommy being stuck with Dream during his tour of the prison with the new guards, the fact that he hired Ant and Bad as new guards in the first place despite their fairly recent conflict, and his own insistence in breaking protocol even with Tommy yelling at him from across the lava to let him out.

I think the Egg’s been subtly making him think, “Oh it’s fine to leave Tommy in there, Dream won’t hurt him. It’s ok for you to trust Bad and Ant, they’re reliable guards. You’re allowed to break protocol, you’re the Warden, you know what’s best, Tommy’s fine and Dream won’t hurt him, you just need to find the security breach.” It’s a “voice” in his head that sounds less like a demonic nightmare and more like his own, convincing him he’s done what he could, that he’s doing what’s right, that these actions are necessary for securing the prisoner, that everything will be okay.

And then Tommy died and Sam is now suddenly facing this, massive wake up call. Because the truth is he could’ve done something, should’ve done something but he didn’t. And he doesn’t know why.

-------

Wow, that got.... long. Anyways, I’m curious, what do people who actually watch streams from c!Sam’s POV think? ‘Cause this is just based off his.... half an hour long conversation with Ranboo, some clips from his prison tour stream, and what he said during Tommy’s death stream. I also actually have another analysis on Ranboo based of this conversation/stream that basically boils down to “Ranboo remembers more than he himself knows and that his enderwalk memories are subconsciously affecting his actions/decisions despite his many many attempts at denying it away.” I probably won’t write/post something about that because this took me 3 hours to do and I don’t know if I have the time/energy to write something this long again :D

[prismartist]

so there’s an image of quackity’s face ingrained in the wall next to the crimson egg in bbh’s cavern, right, and from what i remember the skin was red. but i saw some screenshots from a more recent stream and uhh the skin is white for some reason now, and the vines are crawling all over it, so unless i’m just misremembering does that mean the skin was bleached?? or something???

[ichigopanhpff]

BNHA Fic: Blink! Ch. 23

Read Ch. 22 | Masterlist

Okay I lied. I misremembered where I left off. The next 3 chapters are fillers in between what’s canon in the comics.

“He did what now?!”

“Don’t make me repeat it,” Ren groaned and hid her face in her arms.

With U.A. on a short break before the mandatory internships start, Ren, Tomoe and Seri finally found time to hang out in their secret hideout. It was the only place they could go without anyone hearing their conversation. Even though it was freezing cold outside, a small campfire was made to keep the three warm.

“Tomoe, it’s hunting time,” Seri darkly blurted out and took her talons out.

“No! No hunting!” Their pink-haired friend immediately jumped out of her seat, her hand held up to stop them.

“How about maiming?” Tomoe suggested with an evil grin.

“Do absolutely nothing that would cause him bodily harm!” she nervously instructed.

“You’re no fun,” her owl-faced friend pouted and retracted her claws.

“It’s not a matter of fun. Aizawa’ll kick my ass three ways to Sunday,” she solemnly pointed out.

The tawny brown haired girl grabbed a Pocky stick left over from the holiday party and clamped one between her teeth.

“So what���re you gonna do?” she asked and took a bite of the chocolate biscuit.

“Move out of the dorm and back to you guys?” Ren half-jokingly thought out loud.

“You’d trouble Todoroki-kun if you did,” Seri pointed out. “The real question is how do you feel about him?”

“I...” Ren sat back down on the log and crossed her arms over her chest, really thinking about it. “He… makes me calm.”

“Calm is good,” Tomoe noted.

“He’s also very observant and makes a lot of effort in trying to help the people around him, even though he doesn’t seem to be the type to trust easily.”

“Does he make you happy though?”

“As happy as I get.”

“That doesn’t help.” Seri rubbed her forehead, unable to fathom how one of her best friends could be so emotionally dense with all that intelligence. “Has he done anything for you lately that’s touched your heart?”

“He let me meet his mom at the hospital and took me to a dog cafe after he overheard me talking about Skye.”

Ren’s two friends made eye contact, one just as shocked as the other upon hearing that bit of information.

“Damn, the competition won’t last at this point,” Tomoe muttered out.

“Competition?” She turned to look at her tall, spiky friend. “What are you talking about?”

“She doesn’t know,” Seri noted with a smirk. “It’s actually cute.”

“Know what?” The pink haired girl was beginning to get agitated. “Who on this goddamn campus hit their head and decided to have doki-doki feels for me?”

“Should we say?” The hedgehog girl enquired loudly to her owl-friend.

“I’m not sure.”

“Hey!” Ren shouted with thinning patience. “I’m right here and don’t appreciate you two having a conversation without me!”

“Ren-Ren, look,” Seri started and took a breath. “There are a lot of people on this campus who have ‘doki-doki’ feelings for you,” she explained and used finger quotes on the descriptor. “You’re just oblivious to them.”

“Or maybe they’re too subtle,” Tomoe hypothesized. “Ever since the festival, you’ve gotten a lotta attention from other classes.”

Ren could only groan out loud again.

“I don’t care about them. I only care about what I’m gonna say to Todo-kun,” she blurted out and held her head in her hands. “I rather take on a villain and beat them to the ground with an inch of my life rather than deal with this.”

“We can give you as much advice as you want, but nothing will change unless you talk with him,” the white-haired girl reasoned. “Peel off the band-aid and put your hypothetical balls to the wall.”

Knowing her friends were right, they decided to put the fire out before teleporting back to the main campus. The three entered 1-A, only to see a stack of large boxes by the doorway.

“Oh senpai!” Iida greeted. “These packages came for you while you were out.”

“But I didn’t order any–Oh sweet baby All-Might, no.”

She buried her face into her palms, mumbling something inaudible while shaking her head slowly.

“It’s that time of year again.” Seri held a worrying hand to her cheek, sighing out loud and felt drained all of a sudden.

“What are you guys talking about?” Midoriya asked only to see two completely dejected upperclassmen like they had their souls sucked out.

“The shackles of the elite upper class,” Tomoe summarized and pointed to the aforementioned boxes with her thumb.

“But I’m not elite or upper class!” Ren jolted back up. “It’s my mom’s position that lets people believe otherwise!”

“What does your mom do, senpai?” Kirishima asked.

“She’s a translator at the embassy. Her quirk, Polyglot, let’s her understand and speak every language on this planet.”

“Whoa, that’s so cool!” Uraraka boasted.

“But what does it have to do with the ‘shackles’ over there?” the green haired boy pointed to the stack of flat cardboard boxes.

“Every year, the embassy has a holiday party with powerful government people,” Tomoe explained. “And since they made it a family friendly event, spouses and kids are invited.”

“More like they just want to show us off as their trophies and brag about our accomplishments like it’s their own,” Seri venomously spat out with a glowering stare at the boxes. “They can kindly go kick rocks and fuck themselves.”

“I already told my mom I wasn’t going this year, but she insisted,” Ren huffed out angrily and rolled her eyes. “Because a ‘future hero should build up a good network.’ Those parties are always so boring and stuffy. I swear she just wants me to go half the time so she could play matchmaker to me. It’s just–”

She let out an audible shudder that vibrated throughout her entire body.

“And the dresses...” Ren continued with a look of sheer horror on her face and glanced over at the towering behemoth. “I just… I can’t...” she choked out, suddenly remembering all her past traumatic experiences with fitting sessions.

“Okay, the past few years may have been poor choices on her behalf–” Tomoe defended only to be cut off by Seri.

“I wouldn’t necessarily call a small piece of sparkly fabric held together by one thin string ‘poor choice’, Tomoe,” Seri flatly said.

“I had stripper dust on my back for weeks even with just trying it on,” she groaned at the memory and wished to push it back down into the depths of her subconscious. “I’m not looking forward to this.”

“Well, let’s open the boxes together and see,” Yaoyorozu suggested. “Perhaps they’re not so bad this time.”

Reluctant to agree, Iida and Midoriya helped gather the packages and laid them down on the floor in the common area. They opened it one by one and Ren physically felt blood push up her throat upon seeing the first dress. It was a fully sequined high collared ball gown in crimson red with matching high heel stilettos. There were ruffles where there weren’t supposed to be and sequins could be found on every inch of the bodice.

“So sparkly!” Uraraka gushed.

“Burn it,” Ren darkly growled. “Next.”

The next dress was a midnight blue in an A-line cut. The dress had a very deep v-neck line in the bodice area, only held together by a thin mesh material in-between and the back.

“Throw it into space. Next.”

“Your mom sure has… very outgoing taste,” Yaoyorozu slowly commented, choosing her words carefully.

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘gaudy’, Yao-Momo.”

“Well, I don’t want to be impolite...”

“It’s as gaudy as they come,” the three upperclassmen simultaneously stated.

Opening up the next box, Uraraka pulled out a strapless sparkly pink ruched bodice dress with a leg slit that sat right below the hip bone. Even the gravity girl was blushing madly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she groaned in English.

Ren took her phone out from her pocket and dialed a number without even seeing the last two dresses. The line on the receiver picked up.

“Courier. Now. Or I burn them all,” she growled out in Japanese.

“But you haven’t even–”

“Courier. Or. Fire.” She repeated with emphasis on each word. “Your choice.”

“At least let me see you try them on,” the woman on the other line bargained. “It’ll make dear ol’ mom happy.”

“Y’know, just because you couldn’t wear them when you were my age–”

“Are you saying I’m projecting, dear daughter? After everything I’ve done for you?”

Ren’s shoulders froze in place, inwardly groaning.

Now she’s done it.

“Just...” She rubbed her temples in a circular motion with her thumb and squeezed her eyes shut. “Give me five minutes to set up the video call.”

She ended the call and slumped over the couch to muffle her screaming.

“She went dark on you?” Tomoe asked the obvious.

The flustered pink haired girl turned her head to the side for some air and flatly answered, “Almost.”

Dragging herself away from the couch, she asked Uraraka to help her with the dresses and went into the girls public bathroom.

“She’s not gonna flush them down the toilet, is she?!” Jiro exclaimed.

“The sequins would clog up the pipes.” Seri’s stoic commentary made her sound like this was something she knew from first-hand experience.

“Lange-senpai, what did you mean by ‘dark’ before?” Midoriya asked.

“You guys remember how Ren-Ren was when she beat Bakugou in the video game?” Tomoe reminded.

“Don’t bring shit up from the past,” the mentioned blond boy grumbled out and rested his face in his palm.

“Yeah… Imagine that in the ‘mom’ version.”

All the boys sitting in the common area thought about their respective mothers. Their eyes immediately went wide as the aura of hopeless seeped out. Their stream of consciousness slowly faded from existence.

“Ren-senpai, we sympathize,” majority of the boys all dejectedly huffed out a long sigh. A sudden burst of echoing laughter came from the girl’s bathroom, recognizing it as Uraraka’s.

“You’re laughing too much!” Ren’s quivering voice shouted.

“But—But–” Sputtering of tittering replaced her words instead.

“Seri, is the call set up?” she shouted.

“We hear you loud and clear, sweetheart,” the voice on the speaker phone echoed.

“Let’s get this crap over with.”

Ren trudged out of the bathroom wearing the first dress, trying to gather what she could of the fluffy fabric so she didn’t trip on it. Her face looked like how Bakugou’s was at the podium from the Sports Festival. A roaring fit of laughter filled the silence of the common room as she stood stationary, shaking from anger and embarrassment as she flipped them off with both hands.

The dress, for a lack of better words, made her look like a Mama at a brothel; all she was missing were the gaudy makeup and a cigarette in her mouth.

“Oh! Put the shoes on! I wanna see the full outfit!”

Letting out an audible growl, she roughly dropped the heels on the wooden floor with a clatter and gingerly stepped into them. Her mom squealed with delight on the call.

“How does it fit?!”

“Sequins are digging into every part of my skin like spikes and it hurts like my soul,” she deadpanned.

“Turn around. I wanna see the back.”

Throwing her head back and slumping her shoulders, Ren awkwardly turned with the 5-inch stilettos. She yelped aloud and tripped on part of the fabric from being caught on the jeweled part of her dress, subsequently falling flat on her butt with a muffled thud.

“Senpai! Please stop!” Jiro wheezed out between her fits of laughter and nearly rolled off her seat. “I can’t breathe!”

“Ren-Ren, you look like a clown’s mirror ball!” Tomoe blurted out loudly and fell over the armrest of the couch.

Angrily kicking the shoes off, Ren clumsily got herself off of the floor, slipping over the unnecessarily copious amount of fabric on her person while hissing audible profanities. She stomped back into the bathroom as everyone continued laughing. Uraraka stumbled along not too far behind to help her out of the dress.

“Why are they laughing? I thought she looked beautiful,” Ren’s mom blurted out.

“I think your definition of the word differs from theirs, Aunt Victoria,” Seri replied between her own suppressing giggles.

A shuffle of fabric could be heard at the far end of the hall, with Ren coming out wearing the midnight blue dress with her black bra showing itself through the mesh fabric. Her face was flushed from the commotion and embarrassment. The previous laughter was replaced with approving awes from the girls and furiously blushing faces from the boys.

“That… looks really good on you, senpai,” Kirishima praised with flushed cheeks, his red eyes unable to peel away. “You look… beautiful.”

“You’re supposed to wear that without the bra, honey,” her mom pointed out.

“Like hell I’m gonna take it off with perverts around!” she barked back at the camera on the phone, fuming.

Sensing a sudden disturbing force, Ren turned to her left and saw Mineta launching himself at her from one of the couches. The small sticky boy seemed to have been unable to contain himself anymore.

“Entrust me with your boob--” he shouted with a trail of drool coming from his mouth, only to have his lecherous face catch her hard right hook followed by launched quills from Tomoe to stick him to near the top corner end of the wall. Sero huffed a quick sigh and restrained the small boy with his tape.

“Good to see your reflexes haven’t dulled, Ren-Ren,” Seri remarked.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?��

“You really need to learn restraint, Mineta,” the boy huffed out.

“You should wear this one, Ren. It really shows off your figure.”

“This thing is half mesh and I’m freezing,” she complained and visibly shivered. “I can’t even think about moving in this thing without thinking about flashing side boob!”

“Which is perfect for some young gentleman to lend you his jacket at the party,” her mom fantasized dreamily over the line. “Just think of the possible–”

“Cut the call, Seri,” she coldly blurted out as she walked back to the bathroom.

“You’re so cruel! Doing that to your own mother!”

Ruffling the back of her hair, Ren stared down her next opponent: the pink bodice dress. It’s not that she minded wearing dresses, she just wished they weren’t so… form-fitting. And it’d show her scar. Uraraka came from behind to help her out of the dress carefully and prepared the next one.

“I really like the blue one, senpai,” she gushed.

“Then you wear it,” she blurted out and paused. She then slowly turned to her assistant with a sly grin, like a wolf cornering its prey.

“S-Senpai?” she quivered with fear in her eyes. “W-What are you doing?”

A high pitched scream echoed from the bathroom, making everyone jump out of their seats. The girls ran in to check the commotion, only to come back out moments later with matching grins.

“Is everything okay in there?” Midoriya asked with worry.

“Oh, it’s fantastic,” Ashido drawled out with a wink at the confused boy before returning to her seat.

“I’m so getting video of this,” Jiro mumbled out with excitement while setting up her phone camera.

First came Ren in the form-fitting pink dress, clearly flustered at the garment. She was trying her best to pull the slit close by grabbing it with her left hand so she didn’t flash anyone while walking. Her right arm covered her chest and shoulder scar; they looked like they were ready to fall out of the strapless dress due to the tightness of the band. The apparel literally left nothing to the imagination as it hugged every part of her. Feeling no one behind her, she darted back into the bathroom to drag Uraraka out.

“Noooo, senpai! Pleassseee!” Uraraka desperately pleaded while clinging onto dear life at the wall.

“Hey, if I’m making a fool out of myself with this, so will you!”

She used her full strength to pull the brown haired girl out from the confines of the bathroom. She stumbled out with flushed cheeks, wearing the blue gown Ren had on before. The boys were rendered speechless looking at them, some even looked away out of shyness. Bakugou could only stare at Ren wide-eyed, never realizing her body was that curvy.

“That dress fits Ochaco-chan so much better,” Seri approved and lightly blushed.

“’Cus she has the better boobs for it,” Ren blurted out, making the latter party yelp and cover up their chest out of shyness. “What do you think, Midoriya? Doesn’t she look good?”

The green-haired boy’s face was glowing red, with steam coming out of his ears as he whimpered and stuttered, unable to form any sort of wording.

“Ren-senpai, I never realized your butt was that big,” Jiro noticed, prompting her to put her hands behind there to hide it in failure. She wished she could sprout arms out like Shoji and cover up her entire being.

“Why do you think I always wear baggy clothes?!” she huffed out at the purple haired girl, her face flushing bright red before turning back to the camera. “And mom! Why did you even think this was a good idea?! I look like someone looking for a sugar daddy in this thing!”

“With that butt, I’ll give you all the sugar you need,” Mineta cooed out lustfully, only to be silenced the instant Seri and Tomoe launched their respective projectiles at him.

“Sleep now,” Seri’s eyes glowed yellow at the tied up boy and instantly knocked him out.

“I mean, it’s not necessarily a bad idea at the party–” her mom teased.

Her daughter silently glared and pursed her lips into a fine line, crossing her arms over her chest and tapped her feet impatiently.

“Are you done?” Ren flatly asked, clearly not amused with the selection of attires.

“I guess we are,” her mom pouted. “Are you sure you don’t wanna keep any of–”

“I’ll offer them to the Fire Gods as tribute and you’ll lose any hopes of a refund on your credit card.”

“Point taken.”

“Yao-Momo, Kyoka, can you help us get outta this stuff?”

Yaoyorozu placed a hand on the small of Ren’s back to escort her to the bathroom to change. She did a really awkward shuffle with the balls of her feet, like she really needed to pee.

“I seriously cannot move a muscle in this thing,” she muttered out within an earshot.

“Ochaco-chan, come on.” The tomboy musician helped her floaty friend back up on her feet and brought her back to change.

“Perhaps the bodycon wasn’t the best idea, Aunt Vicky,” Tomoe commented.

“I thought it’d look nice with her figure,” the woman pouted. “What did the boys think?”

“Well...” Seri trailed off and turned the phone camera over to the couches where they were sitting. They were all practically blushing from ear to ear, avoiding eye contact with everyone; Kaminari and Sero both crossed their legs suspiciously. Bakugou glared away, covering the lower half of his face with his hand as an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

The girls reemerged in their regular clothing a short moment later.

“I’m gonna be picking sequins out of my butt for the next week,” Ren grumbled out, wearing an annoyed expression and gently reached out to grab her phone from Seri’s hand. “Satisfied?”

Her mom heavily sighed on the other line. “Not my best choices, it seems.”

“You don’t say,” her daughter sarcastically replied and jutted her hip out when she rested her hand on top of it.

“Just be sure to get something to wear in the next three days, okay? I’ll get a courier to pick that stuff up.”

“I’m gonna wear a sleeping bag,” Ren joked.

She ended the call and placed the device back in her pocket, heaving a heavy sigh. “Sorry you had to see that, guys.”

“I… don’t think they’re going to answer anytime soon, Ren-Ren.” Tomoe cocked her head in the general direction of all the dumbfounded and stunned boys. “You gave ‘em quite a show.”

–

Ren emerged from the elevator to the common room dressed in a black and white jumpsuit with a draped black blazer on top on the evening of her mom’s embassy holiday party. Her hair was styled back with a bit of volume and her makeup consisted of black eyeliner, voluminous mascara and dark red lipstick. It was simple but dramatic enough to catch everyone’s eye. Just to be on the safe side, she adorned her bangles in case anything were to happen. She placed her heels near the door before heading to the couches and draped her peacoat and scarf draped on her arm before placing it on top. As she walked past, the boys caught a whiff of her honeysuckle and rose pedal perfume.

“Senpai, you look hot!” Ashido praised with excitement. “So grown up!”

“You’re not wearing a dress tonight?” Ochaco wondered.

“Jumpsuits are more my speed. Pockets and better mobility,” she explained.

Moments later, Todoroki came down the stairs in a navy blue suit with a black lapel. He wore a black skinny tie and a crisp white dress shirt underneath the jacket to match the black slacks. His hair was left unstyled.

“Whoa, Todoroki!” Kaminari whistled. “Lookin’ spiffy there, my dude.”

“You have a hot date tonight or somethin’, Todoroki?” Ashido half-joked with a grin.

“I have a function to go in place of my father tonight in Tokyo,” he replied in his usual stoic manner. “Since he’s still recovering from his last fight. Though, I’m sure he’s using it as an excuse.”

“Tokyo? Isn’t that where you’re goin’, Ren-Ren?” Jiro asked.

Before she could answer, her phone in her hand vibrated, notifying her the driver arrived at U.A.’s gate.

“Gotta go kiddies. Stay outta trouble.” Ren hurried to the shoe lockers and grabbed her belongings off the couch before putting her shoes on. “Todo-kun, wanna catch a ride? I’m sure they can drop you off wherever you need to go.”

“Sure.”

As they walked to the gate, the click of Ren’s heels filled the silence between the two. Catching the aroma of her perfume in the cold wintry air, it was then he realized how beautiful she looked tonight. Her simple eye makeup made her usual warm hazel-green eyes more striking.

“You look nice tonight,” he softly said. “The clothes suit you.”

“O-Oh. Thanks.” She looked up at Todoroki and gave him a small smile with a light blush on her cheeks. “You clean up nicely yourself.”

They get to the car and see Seri already in the back seat with a black coat with her dark purple dress showing up below and greeted one another. Settling in the middle seat, the boy made sure Ren had enough room when he got in and closed the door.

“Good, you’re on time,” a familiar voice spoke up from the front seat; it was Aizawa.

“Aizawa-sensei,” the dual-hair colored boy greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“For some reason, I got invited to the party at the embassy tonight, so we’re all going together.”

“’We’?” Ren questioned.

“It seems we’re headed to the same place, senpai.”

“At least we won’t be bored, Ren-Ren,” Seri chimed out with a devious smirk, her owl-like eyes gesturing to the boy on her right. She could only inwardly groan and felt her heart rate go up a few beats, remembering the conversation they had a few days ago and the kiss. The drive went by without incident and the party of four reached the embassy safely. Disembarking out of the car, Todoroki opened the door for both Seri and Ren on the other side like the gentleman he was.

The two girls thanked him and headed into the building together. Ren strolled up to the reception desk with purpose. It’s not exactly the most favorite place in the world for her; majority of her childhood were spent here after moving to Japan and waiting on their paperwork to be legal citizens in the country.

“I don’t think we’ve ever had much of a chance to talk, Todoroki-kun,” Seri softly spoke, looking at the back of her friend at the reception desk. “I’d like to ask you something.”

He softly turned and looked down at his petite upperclassman with a curious yet nonchalant gaze.

“What exactly is Ren to you?”

“A senpai. And… a friend.”

“Is that all?” she instigated, earning her a now suspicious stare from Todoroki.

“What do you mean, Kubo-senpai?” His tone was deep and clear like ice.

“She told me what happened with you two after the party the other night. One can only assume you have more than friendship emotions for her.”

His hetero-chromatic eyes looked down at his leather dress shoes, unable to come up with a proper answer. He swallowed heavily and clenched his teeth, frustrated at his lack of understanding of his own feelings.

“This goes without saying, but Tomoe and I are extremely protective of her. We won’t stand idly by and let someone play with her heart who wanted to give her a kiss on a whim. She’s more sensitive about things than she lets on.”

“It wasn’t on a whim… Nor am I trying to deceive her,” he softly retorted and sighed through his nose. “I’m just… not used to feeling this way with anything.”

“Then I suggest you properly sort it out first before acting,” Seri advised with a harsher tone than she intended. “I don’t wish to see her rejected again.”

“Like with her ex-boyfriend?”

“With Togata-senpai.” The owl girl corrected and sighed. “She may make light of her confession at him, but it hit her hard. Part of it stems from her survivor’s guilt. She thinks she doesn’t deserve to be happy and loved no matter what Tomoe and I say.”

Seri’s yellow owl eyes was crestfallen and looked like she was going to cry. Her hands gradually gathered part of her dark purple dress into her palm.

“I just… I don’t want to see her heart break all over again. She’s come so far.”

Knowing Ren’s history based on recent events, he stayed silent looking at the snow owl girl. What could he say? He had to grow up and face his feelings head on.

“Hey, you two okay?”

Ren’s voice roused them from their conversation and the two faced her wide-eyed. She held two silver colored wristbands in her right hand.

“Never better,” her bird friend answered with a bit more energy than before. Even though she didn’t seem convinced, neither one looked like they wanted to talk about it.

“Party’s at the top floor.” She handed each of them their wristbands to put on before walking past the lobby and toward the elevators.

“Where’s Aizawa-sensei?” the boy asked.

“He went on ahead to talk with some government officials about some hush-hush stuff.”

The ding of the elevator doors gave them permission to enter and found a security guard inside to guide them to the proper floor. The lift stopped once more and brought them to their destination. The three walked down the wide carpeted hallway slowly leading to the ballroom.

“Who do you think we’ll see there?” Seri wondered aloud.

“Probably the Preppy Posse,” Ren groaned and placed her left index finger on her temple, already feeling an oncoming headache in having to deal with them. “They’d never miss a party like this to schmooze and booze.”

“’Preppy Posse’?” Todoroki asked.

“They’re the sons of some of the ambassadors. For a lack of better words, their offsprings are a waste of air and quirks, reeking of privilege who think they’re above the law,” the owl girl summarized.

“They’re more trouble than they’re worth. I’d advise you to stay away from them, Todo-kun,” the rose-gold haired girl stated.

“They’re the types to suck up to powerful people for favors?”

“And Peppermint gets the winning point,” Seri praised.

The three stood at the giant doors and took a breath like they were going in for a boss fight.

“Let’s get this over with and get some ramen after.”

[amaryllisblackthorn]

 i’m finally making a post to kind of refute the sort of common idea that victor just completely stood by and let justine take the wrap without doing anything? it’s something i’ve been meaning to do for a long time but haven’t been able to gather all my thoughts together to do it. this isn’t to say that how he handed the situation wasn’t problematic or anything, but rather just a refutation of a very particular criticism i’ve seen before regarding it that i think is misinformed? like i said you can still criticize how he handled it and everything but i feel like a lot of peeps misremember exactly what happened. 

My first thought was to discover what I knew of the murderer, and cause instant pursuit to be made. But I paused when I reflected on the story that I had to tell. A being whom I myself had formed, and endued with life, had met me at midnight among the precipices of an inaccessible mountain. I remembered also the nervous fever with which I had been seized just at the time that I dated my creation, and which would give an air of delirium to a tale otherwise so utterly improbable. I well knew that if any other had communicated such a relation to me, I should have looked upon it as the ravings of insanity. Besides, the strange nature of the animal would elude all pursuit, even if I were so far credited as to persuade my relatives to commence it. [And then]/[Besides,] of what use would be pursuit? Who could arrest a creature capable of scaling the overhanging sides of Mont Salêve? These reflections determined me, and I resolved to remain silent.

   "But since the murderer has been discovered--"    "The murderer discovered! Good God! how can that be? who could attempt to pursue him? it is impossible; one might as well try to overtake the winds, or confine a mountain-stream with a straw. [I saw him too; he was free last night!]"

   "Justine Moritz! Poor, poor girl, is she the accused? But it is wrongfully; every one knows that; no one believes it, surely, Ernest?"

   This was a strange tale, but it did not shake my faith; and I replied earnestly, "You are all mistaken; I know the murderer. Justine, poor, good Justine, is innocent."

[...] Ernest exclaimed, "Good God, [P]apa! Victor says that he knows who was the murderer of poor William."    "We do also, unfortunately," replied my father; "for indeed I had rather have been for ever ignorant than have discovered so much depravity and ingratitude in one I valued so highly."    "My dear father, you are mistaken; Justine is innocent."     "If she is, God forbid that she should suffer as guilty. She is to be tried to-day, and I hope, I sincerely hope, that she will be acquitted."    This speech calmed me. I was firmly convinced in my own mind that Justine, and indeed every human being, was guiltless of this murder. I had no fear, therefore, that any circumstantial evidence could be brought forward strong enough to convict her. [My tale was not one to announce publicly; its astounding horror would be looked upon as madness by the vulgar. Did any one indeed exist, except I, the creator, who would believe, unless his senses convinced him, in the existence of the living monument of presumption and rash ignorance which I had let loose upon the world?]/[ and, in this assurance, I calmed myself, expecting the trial with eagerness, but without prognosticating an evil result.]

   "She is innocent, my Elizabeth," said I, "and that shall be proved; fear nothing, but let your spirits be cheered by the assurance of her acquittal."

A thousand times rather would I have confessed myself guilty of the crime ascribed to Justine; but I was absent when it was committed, and such a declaration would have been considered as the ravings of a madman, and would not have exculpated her who suffered through me.

My own agitation and anguish was extreme during the whole trial. I believed in her innocence; I knew it. Could the dæmon, who had (I did not for a minute doubt) murdered my brother, also in his hellish sport have betrayed the innocent to death and ignominy? I could not sustain the horror of my situation; and when I perceived that the popular voice, and the countenances of the judges, had already condemned my unhappy victim, I rushed out of the court in agony. The tortures of the accused did not equal mine; she was sustained by innocence, but the fangs of remorse tore my bosom, and would not forego their hold.    I passed a night of unmingled wretchedness. In the morning I went to the court; my lips and throat were parched. I dared not ask the fatal question; but I was known, and the officer guessed the cause of my visit. The ballots had been thrown; they were all black, and Justine was condemned. I cannot pretend to describe what I then felt. I had before experienced sensations of horror; and I have endeavoured to bestow upon them adequate expressions, but words cannot convey an idea of the heart-sickening despair that I then endured. The person to whom I addressed myself added, that Justine had already confessed her guilt. "That evidence," he observed, "was hardly required in so glaring a case, but I am glad of it; and, indeed, none of our judges like to condemn a criminal upon circumstantial evidence, be it ever so decisive."    [This was strange and unexpected intelligence; what could it mean? Had my eyes deceived me? and was I really as mad as the whole world would believe me to be, if I disclosed the object of my suspicions?]

Justine started. When she saw who it was, she approached me, and said, "Dear [S]ir, you are very kind to visit me; you, I hope, do not believe that I am guilty[?]"    I could not answer. "No, Justine," said Elizabeth; "he is more convinced of your innocence than I was; for even when he heard that you had confessed, he did not credit it."

   Thus the poor sufferer tried to comfort others and herself. She indeed gained the resignation she desired. But I, the true murderer, felt the never-dying worm alive in my bosom, which allowed of no hope or consolation. Elizabeth also wept, and was unhappy; but hers also was the misery of innocence, which, like a cloud that passes over the fair moon, for a while hides but cannot tarnish its brightness. Anguish and despair had penetrated into the core of my heart; I bore a hell within me, which nothing could extinguish. We stayed several hours with Justine; and it was with great difficulty that Elizabeth could tear herself away.

   [And on the morrow Justine died. Elizabeth's heart-rending eloquence failed to move the judges from their settled conviction in the criminality of the saintly sufferer. My passionate and indignant appeals were lost upon them. And when I received their cold answers, and heard the harsh unfeeling reasoning of these men, my purposed avowal died away on my lips. Thus I might proclaim myself a madman, but not revoke the sentence passed upon my wretched victim. She perished on the scaffold as a murderess!]

   [From the tortures of my own heart, I turned to contemplate the deep and voiceless grief of my Elizabeth. This also was my doing! And my father's woe, and the desolation of that late so smiling home—all was the work of my thrice-accursed hands! Ye weep, unhappy ones; but these are not your last tears! Again shall you raise the funeral wail, and the sound of your lamentations shall again and again be heard! Frankenstein, your son, your kinsman, your early, much-loved friend; he who would spend each vital drop of blood for your sakes—who has no thought nor sense of joy, except as it is mirrored also in your dear countenances—who would fill the air with blessings, and spend his life in serving you—he bids you weep—to shed countless tears; happy beyond his hopes, if thus inexorable fate be satisfied, and if the destruction pause before the peace of the grave have succeeded to your sad torments!   Thus spoke my prophetic soul, as, torn by remorse, horror, and despair, I beheld those l loved spend vain sorrow upon the graves of William and Justine, the first hapless victims to my unhallowed arts.]

basically:

victor vocally insists that justine is innocent consistently

victor initially wants to reveal what he knows but figures that he’ll be considered insane and pursuit of the creature would be useless (this is before he knows about justine)

this is literally what ends up happening near the end of the novel when victor goes to a criminal judge and formally accuses the creature of being the destroyer of his family !! (end of Chapter 23 in 1831 ed)

victor has faith in the justice system !! and believes it’ll be impossible to convict justine since she’s innocent

victor was willing to ‘admit’ he killed william to save justine if it hadn’t been for the fact that he had an alibi 

he was willing to be "more dreadfully murdered, with every aggravation of infamy that could make the murder memorable in horror"

victor passionately and indignantly appealed/fought for justine after her confession and death sentence in the 1831 version

victor seemed to intend to tell the judges everything after meeting with justine but figured it wouldn’t do any good when he realized how set the judges were on making justine pay in the 1831 version

victor did indeed deeply and strongly blame himself for justine’s (and william’s) death; he felt severe guilt over it 

like a lot of this is also supposed to be, i believe, criticism of the justice system  ( "all judges had rather that ten innocent should suffer, than that one guilty should escape" etc). not to mention they pressured justine into (falsely) confessing, which can be done as sealing the deal. i feel like the novel kind of makes it clear, though, that justine was found guilty because the court wanted her to be because she was an easy scapegoat and they’d rather make it seem like they got who was accountable than actually get who was accountable. this is just, i think, an important thing to keep in mind.

like, you can still argue that victor’s ‘reasons’ for keeping quiet are really just ‘rationalizations’, but i do think that the fact that when he goes to the criminal judge later in the book to accuse the creature and demand he be brought to justice that the criminal judge both says that if there really is a creature it’ll probably be impossible to pursue and seize him, and eventually settled on being incredulous and indeed viewing victor as having “the appearance of madness”. so like victor’s concerns back during the justine stuff weren’t like unfounded. still, you can argue that he should have at least tried and failed instead of not trying because it would probably fail. and that’s fair! but i feel like a  lot of people make victor out to be like cold during all of this, and like selfish and uncaring? like sure, victor didn’t confess what he knew, but it wasn’t because he didn’t want anyone to know about his ‘mistake’/what he had done, and it’s not like he didn’t do  anything to help justine out. he wasn’t completely silent. he wasn’t quiet at all regarding her innocence and told basically anyone who would listen that she was. and yeah you can argue that doesn’t do a lot of good when he withholds how he knows she’s innocent but like, at least concede that victor didn’t just stand by and watch justine go down for what the creature did without doing anything. you can argue about /how much/ he actually did, but like, let’s at least acknowledge that he didn’t do absolutely nothing. 

also i feel like there’s a criticism somewhere that victor feels sorry for himself way too much (like saying he’s suffering more than justine is) which like, isn’t necessarily untrue, but i feel like, that victor feels a lot and strongly is a thing. like i wouldn’t be surprised if he had like emotional dysregulation or something? but that’s a whole other meta (that i likewise have been meaning to write up for a long time but would be much much longer and thus more difficult to organize my thoughts down for than this one) but i digress

the point is, is victor problematic? yeah. but like he’s problematic in certain ways and he’s not a complete heartless selfish monster and like sure you can argue how he handled the stuff with justine’s trial was problematic but again it’s problematic in certain ways i feel and i feel like a lot of people accuse it of being problematic in ways i feel it isn’t and maybe im getting caught up in particulars but i cant really help it that much and hopefully you guys can find some worth in this write up. thanks. 

((also with the quotes i used both 1818 and 1831 versions and used brackets and sometimes slashes to try to mark discrepancies. quotes that are entirely in brackets like the last two are from the 1831 version.))

[princevolker2788]

(Vermintide Fanfic Chapter 1) Life for Life, Death for Death, Love for Love

@xavirne

Hello everyone, this is my first post in over a year, and I apologize for that. I'm pleased to say that I just recently graduated from college.

Besides that though, I've had this story running around in my head for a few months.

If it wasn't obvious, I've fallen into the Warhammer hole, specifically concerning the Sisters of Battle in Warhammer 40K and the Wood Elves in Warhammer Fantasy, or as its known now: Warhammer: Age of Sigmar.

A little terminology for the uninitiated:

Slaanesh is the deamon lord of gluttony, excess, and pleasure in the world of Warhammer Fantasy. His primary desire is to consume as many elven souls as possible. Which is pretty much guaranteed unless an elf dies near a magical gem known as a waystone. 

Upon death, an elf’s soul will enter the gem and act as a barrier against deamon intrusion into their cities.

This story focuses around two characters in the video game Warhammer: Vermintide II: that of the Human Mercenary Markus Kruber and the Wood Elf Waystalker Kerillian. I hope you all enjoy my little indulgent fic about my two favorite rat slayers bonding... and maybe something more.

       Kerillian tapped her fingers against the wood of her bow in anticipation. Lorner had promised a horde of ratmen en route to a convoy of food supplies. The problem was that they’d been waiting for an hour in torrential rain that would make the citizens of Stromdorf gawp, and the ratmen hadn’t arrived.

       “Can barely feel my toes…” muttered Kruber.

       “Then maybe you should have brought better boots,” snapped Kerillian.

       Though she would never admit it, she could feel the cold seep into her bones, along with the lack of feeling spreading to her fingertips.

       “No need to be snippy, elf.”

       She rolled her eyes and inspected a single arrow, wouldn’t do to miss a kill due to sub par equipment.

       “Stop complaining, food comes to the quickest!”

       The elf snapped her fingers and pointed to the edge of the trail. Kruber, Saltzpyre and Bardin nodded as they prepped their weapons. She prayed this wouldn’t take long, a good fire and a long nap would be much appreciated at this point.

       Kerillian drew the string to her cheek and steadied her breath. Wouldn’t be long now, their foul stench wafted through the air like a globadiers poisons.

       A furry muzzle poked its way into view and she released. She smirked under her mask as it struck home and pinned another rat to a tree trunk.

       With this complete she unslung the glaive from her shoulder and leapt off the fallen tree she’d been balancing on, arching the blade high in the sky as she brought it down on a stormvermin’s skull with a satisfying chunk. Surprised squeaks and yelps filled the air as her compatriots followed suit, Kruber and Bardin swept the front ranks with crushing blows, while Kerillian and Saltzpyre tore through the center ranks, slipping under the arms of the lesser vermin with brutal efficiency.

       She heard a familiar hiss and a pop as a blaze of warpfire tore the left flank of the Skaven apart. The elf dove behind a nearby tree, wincing as one of the warp infused bullets scraped her side.

       “Gunners targeting me!” She shouted.

       “Got our own problems wutelgi!”

       Kerillian swore under her breath as her cover was bisected by a stormvermin great sword. They were learning, adapting to their particular method of fighting. Well, she didn’t become a waystalker to be taken out by a simple grunt.

       The elf spun around the trunk and brought the glaive into the ratman’s side. As it reeled, she took a single step back and cleaved its head from its shoulders. Foul brackish blood splattered against the forest floor. Satisfied, Kerillian dove into the underbrush as the ratling gunner adjusted its fire. Thankfully its reactions were slower than the mayflies or she’d have been torn apart long ago.

       Skaven bodies littered the ground around her, making it much easier for her to creep up on the unsuspecting beast. It kept firing at her last known position, ignoring her compatriots with a fervor she hadn’t expected.

       Does it hate me I wonder?

       The thing barely had time to contemplate its next move before she dug her blade deep into its spine. It let out a shriek of fury as it swung around, tearing the polearm from her grasp. Kerillian growled as she drew two arrows back and let them fly. Only one struck its intended target, but it was enough to make the rat beast pause.

       “Burn in hell!”

       Just as she drew a third arrow to finish the job, a spear impacted the ground by her feet, forcing her to step aside as a veritable wave of Skaven swarmed up the hill on her right.

       “Pull back!” Shouted Bardin, “Its not worth the trouble!”

       Kerillian scoffed as she made her way to the rest of the group, firing at any rat that got too close for comfort.

       As the vermin fell, so too did she into her familiar battle trance, like in Ubersreik when it had just been the five of them in the streets, each member of their little group working in tandem.

       But they had failed, and now the Reikland burned.

       “No more,” she muttered.

       She let one more arrow loose and scuttled up the rock outcropping they had agreed on as their final stand. Kruber’s gauntleted hand clasped her wrist and tugged, giving her enough momentum to flip onto the rockface and resume firing. He took up position behind her, swinging out at the horde that roiled and fumed with fury beneath them.

       “Still cold mayfly?”

       “No, pissed off more like.”

       Kerillian snorted and spun around to cut down an Eshin assassin before it could leap onto the mercenary.

       “Keep your eyes open.”

Kruber grunted as he drove his Zweihander deep into the neck of a stormvermin stupid enough to expose itself. Bardin let out a triumphant shout of glee as the rats started to break, each looking to the other for support as Saltzpyre’s flintlocks blew the brains out of their last squad leader.

She cast her gaze over the retreating force and spotted the rat gunner, lumbering away with the glaive still embedded in its side. She drew back her bow with a confident chuckle.

“Got you now…”

The arrow flew in an arc, descending on the hapless gunner in perfect silence. The rain still fell in sheets, but the satisfaction of a day’s work complete gave the waystalker enough energy to make her way through the dead, collecting as many arrows as she could on the way to her fallen weapon.

The rest of her compatriots were about ten meters behind her, save for Kruber, the man seemed to be watching over her, more so than when they were in Ubersreik. She was content to let him, after being captured by the enemy she welcomed someone by her side. Even if that person was a Lumberfoot.

Rainwater hissed as it impacted with the glowing metal of the ratling gun, creating a small cloud of condensation that hung in the air. As she inspected her kill, a grim sense of satisfaction came over her. There was nothing quite like taking down worthy prey from such a distance.

“You got what you needed?”

Kruber hovered behind her, no doubt curious as she yanked the glaive free. She marveled at the blade’s resilience, any human made weapon would have chipped at such abuse, but not this.

“Oh yes.”

        She hefted the pole arm on her shoulder and nodded towards their allies, still making their way across the battlefield.

        “Not bad mercenary, another decade and we might make a proper soldier of you.”

        Kruber shook his head as he hefted his own blade.

        “I don’t think I’m getting any better, much less younger.”

        “Oh I dunno, your form seems to have improved significantly since Ubersreik. Or else I’m misremembering. Which could be true…”

        Her dreams had quieted as of late, but when they came, they wracked her with visions of terror, elven souls consumed by The Prince of Pleasure, Slaanesh, grown fat in his gluttony. Skaven multiplying unchecked, spreading their foul corruption with the chaos warriors of the north. She’d wake in a cold sweat, silent tears streaming down her face as she struggled to reign in her terrified breaths.

        She thanked Lileath that no one seemed disturbed by her thrashing, but there were days she wished someone would ask about it, just so she could have an excuse. But then again, what would it sound like to the likes of Kruber, Bardin, or Saltzpyre? The ravings of a lunatic?

         Sienna was the only possible option, but the woman seemed subdued as of late, consumed in her devotion to Sigmar. Even Saltzpyre remarked on her reverence of their god with an almost respectful tone.

          So she fought and fought, praying that exhaustion would be enough to hold back the nightmares, to little success.

          Kruber quirked a brow at her silence. She met his gaze, nodding to the Witch Hunter as her approached.

         “I’m going to check on the convoy, they should be arriving soon. Make sure we don’t have any unwanted guests hiding in the underbrush.”

          Kerillian said nothing, leveling a scowl at the man as Kruber made his way down the path and onto the road.

         “You presume much mayfly.”

         “And you’ve yet to earn my trust.”

         The elf scoffed.

         “I would think the months spent in Ubersreik would be enough.”

          She didn’t give him time to respond as she followed Kruber’s path, lightly stepping around the corpses while he merely stepped on them.

         “He’s trying his best I think,” he said as she finished her approach.

         “To what end? Being less of a pompous ass?”

          Kruber chuckled.

         “I think he’s trying to make it work. He’s not so bad ya know.”

         “When he’s not insulting my people, he can be tolerable,” she admitted, though with the taste of bile in the back of her throat.

         “Well you do make it enticing from time to time, the way the bridge of your nose crinkles when you’re angry can be quite amusing if I’m honest.”

          She scowled.

         “See? Like that.”

         Kerillian shouldered her blade and drew her bow, looking in every direction except Kruber’s.

         “What he does is of no concern of mine as long as he ducks when I tell him to.”

         Kruber said nothing as he checked the nearby bodies for signs of life. A few had slid down the hill; most bearing broke arrow shafts embedded in their necks or chests.

         “Well? Are we done here?”

         “We will be if you’d let me have a decent look.”

         She opened her mouth to snap at him and froze as she became aware of a titan sized figure staring at them just behind a cluster of trees.

        “Kruber…” she whispered.

        “Not now.”

        Kerillian let her hand reach out for the sergeant’s shoulder. He tensed under her grip, but only for a fraction of a second.

       “Markus, we have a shadow. No sudden moves. Run for the others when I say,” she hissed, attempting to look as casual as she could with a white knuckled grip on her companion’s shoulder.

       “Where is it?”

        She shook her head.

       “It's not worth it mayfly, just go when I say.”

       “I’m not leaving you behind.”

       Kerillian bit back a groan. Most of the time the man’s loyalty was admirable in its own way, but now it was bordering on infuriating.

       “I’ll be right behind you ya idiot!” she snarled, “Just go!”

       With this, she drew a single trueflight arrow from her quiver, one of three she’d managed to scavenge.

       But the figure was no longer there.

       “I don’t see it!”

       Kruber was only halfway up the hill.

       “Keep moving!”

       A deafening roar split the air, forcing Kerillian’s gaze to her right as a mass of muscle tore through the trees, barreling for Kruber’s exposed position. She fired without thinking, striking the beast she recognized as a bile troll in the arm. She cupped her mouth one handed.

       “Hey, over here!”

       It didn’t turn from its prize. Kruber, to his credit, turned to face the beast, blade in hand. She switched to her glaive and charged, roaring at the top of her lungs. Arrows could do little with this thing’s reach.

       The glaive dug into its shin cleanly, taking a good chunk out of its flesh. It’s arm swatted at her ineffectually, giving Kruber enough time to drive his sword into its chest.

       Heavy bile gushed out of the wound, cutting through Kruber’s gauntlets at a sickening speed. He gritted his teeth, dragging the blade out and striking once more. Kerillian followed his lead, dancing behind the crouching troll to strike at the tendons connecting its feet to its legs.

       She didn’t have time to duck as its hand clamped around her waist. It squeezed its prize, forcing the air from her lungs as it brought her up to its gurgling maw. Everything in her chest hurt, her lungs refused to bring in blessed air as bile made its way to the top of its throat.

       “No you don’t!”

       A familiar Zweihander struck the troll in its throat, not enough to pierce, but enough for it to loosen its grip.

       She fell to the ground in a pained heap, sucking in greedy lungfuls of air as Kruber dragged her away. Damn him, she tried to explain, but no the man just wouldn’t listen.

       Kerillian cast about for her glaive, finding it a good three meters behind the troll. She tried to stand, only to be forced to the ground by the mercenary.

       “No, stay back, I’ve got this.”

       “I had it! If you’d just—”

       The beast roared again, charging Kruber at a frightening speed. She resigned herself and drew her bow, grateful that the wood still retained its shape.

       Kruber halted the beast’s progress with a slice at its legs, where she had struck before. He stepped out of its grasp, drawing it away from her and closer to a nearby bridge. Now she understood.

       Her fingers traced the ridged fletching of a hagbane arrow and drew it from the quiver. Just pulling it back was a trial in of itself; lances of fire ran up her sides. The foul beast had done more damage than she thought.

       C’mon Kruber, just a bit more…

       The Bile Troll took one lumbering step onto the bridge, and she let it loose.

       Satisfaction took her as the beast stumbled, soon replaced with concern as it continued to move. The poison should have downed it in seconds!

       Despite her body’s protests she rushed forward, scooping up her fallen glaive and driving it deep into the monster’s flesh. It groaned, swatting at her pathetically. So the poison had done its work, just slower than she anticipated.

       “Kruber! Are you alright?”

       The lack of a response drove her to strike again, this time at the back of its knee, which she took clean off. This time it couldn’t just shrug it off.

       “Kruber!?”

       She ran to the front, to find the mercenary struggling in the grip of the troll, armor being crushed like cheap metal. Kerillian didn’t need any further prompting, she hacked away at its fingers, each the width of her arm and twice as strong. Kruber struggling ceased midway through her work.

       “No.”

       She hacked at its ring finger.

       “No!”

       Its pinky.

       “Not today!”

       Finally she severed the thumb from the rest of it, releasing the mercenary in a heap. She dropped the glaive, shaky hands reaching for the healing draught she kept on her person.

       His eyes looked to the sky, vacant, but with a small sliver of life.

       “You aren’t gonna die on me here.”        

       The elf cupped his head and forced the glass in between his lips. She massaged his throat at a hurried pace, the quicker she was, the sooner she could berate him for his foolishness.

       He coughed, shuddering in her arms as breathed deep.

       “You bloody idiot…” she sat back with a relieved sigh.

       “Did we win?”

       She coughed out a laugh.

       “Yeah we won mercenary, now lets—”

       The beast’s remaining hand lashed out at lightning speed, striking both her and Kruber in the ribs and over the bridge. It soon followed, blotting out the meager light as all three tumbled into the raging rapids below.

       The entire world turned on its head as she struck the bone chilling water. It took all her willpower to remain calm and focus on finding Kruber amidst the deluge. The troll’s corpse, at least she hoped it was a corpse, floated behind her, while Kruber’s limp form lay just ahead.

       Kerillian kicked forward, ignoring the thumping pain in her side. She had to get the armor off him; otherwise she’d never get them both to land safety.

       As her fingers found the clasps, a disturbing through hit her: what was keeping her from simply leaving him here? Why was she so dead set on sparing the life of a single mayfly when thousands died every day?

       She didn’t have time to ponder this as the heavy chest plate fell to the bottom of the river. Now she had to get them both to the surface. The Waystalker wrapped her arms around his chest and kicked the bottom of the river. They made it about a meter off the silt before they started to sink. She kicked harder, praying it would be enough, only to find herself falling once again.

       This is not how it ends! Not here!

       Her lungs were starting to burn, her legs as well. Her question from before made itself known once more.

       Why spare him?

       Because I care.

       Kruber stirred in her grasp, flailing his legs in tandem with hers. This time they rose swiftly, breaking the surface in seconds and gifting the two of them lovely air.

       “The shore!” she screamed, “Find the shore!”

       Whatever strength she had fled her then. It was all she could do to keep herself treading water as Kruber’s powerful arm brought them closer and closer to a sandbank.

       The concept of being truly chilled to the bone hadn’t been adequately understood until they scrambled into a small outcropping out of the rain. Her ribs screamed in protest as she shivered, teeth chattering beyond her control.

       Strong hands rubbed her arms, a familiar mustached face coming into view as she attempted to do the same. Her numb fingers clutched his gambeson tunic, attempting to impart some semblance of warmth into the soaked material.

       “W-we need to strip down,” she whispered.

       “What?”

       He sounded embarrassed, and if he wasn’t as cold as her she was sure he’d be blushing. Nevertheless she forced her hand to cup the back of his neck.

       “Body heat Lumberfoot, no fire, so body heat.”

       Kruber still looked unconvinced, but nodded and turned his back as he started to remove his tunic. Kerillian turned to her own clothes, shaking fingers just managing to remove the tassels on her armor, but when it got to the series of knots on her tunic it became much more difficult.

       “D-damn piece of—”

       “Let me…”

       She stilled. Kruber took up position in front of her and worked away at them with deft speed. Soon he had her shirt completely unfastened, all that remained was her breast wrapping. That she decided to keep, along with her cloak and facemask.

       “No dawdling then…” she said, rubbing her arms and torso as quick as she could.

       “Right.”

       Neither of them moved.

       “For Isha’s sake!”

       She leaned into him, one hand rubbing at his shoulder while the other continued to massage her torso, careful to avoid her bruised ribs. Under normal circumstances she might have taken note of how toned his arms were, but no, not here, not now.

       Kruber, to his credit, took to his task quick, rubbing her back as quickly as he dared, obviously scandalized by the whole thing. Humans could be so prudish. Even simple displays of affection were looked down upon. Among her people this would be considered an act of survival nothing more.

       So why was she trying to hide the burning in her cheeks and praying to whatever gods that would listen he didn’t notice the accompanying redness on the tips of her ears?

       In an attempt to remedy this, she buried her head into his shoulder. Though this only made it worse, for now she could hear his heartbeat. A steady thump-thump that reverberated through his chest in a comforting way.

       She realized why she didn’t mind him keeping an eye on her, why the constant worrying after her health, or how her attitude wasn’t irritating, but endearing.

       He felt safe.

       Kerillian let out a shudder. Kruber brought her closer, which only highlighted the issue for her as her cheek brushed against his chest, now warm from their proximity. Well, his proximity, she didn’t know how much heat she was giving off.

       As if to reassure her, he rubbed harder, transferring as much warmth as he could.

       “K-Kruber.”

       “Uh, yeah?”

       “Thank you.”

       He stopped rubbing.

       “For what?”

       She shifted in his grasp.

       “For staying by my side. I don’t know how long I would have last against that… thing.”

       Kruber visibly relaxed.

       “Ah, well, likewise. Thanks I mean, f-for saving my arse back there. Twice.”

       “Thrice,” she corrected, eyes drooping.

When did she get so tired? All she wanted to do now was sleep, sleep for years if she could.

       “Kerillian.”

       Her eyelids fluttered open, had she fallen asleep?

       “Yeah?”

       “Do you want to sleep somewhere else? You’re not shivering, and I-I wanted to make sure you were—”

       “Shh mayfly…” she slurred, “sleep now, talk later.”

       Her ear fell against his chest once more, though this time without a sense of trepidation. Why forego warmth and safety when it was right here?

       His grip tightened ever so slightly as he adjusted his position, this time to the sandy floor of their little cavern. She became vaguely aware of the sensation of a familiar cloak being draped over their shoulders.

       “Sleep than…” he said, uncertainty still lacing his words.

       “Sleep,” she commanded.

       She closed her eyes, letting the sound of the man’s heart and breathing ease her into a pleasant rest. Or at least what she hoped would be a pleasant sleep. Goddess knew she needed it.

                                                                 ***

       Cold enveloped her, a cold she felt beyond the icy rainwater numbing her fingers and bones. She struggled against it, trying to burrow into something warm. But when she opened her eyes all she saw was darkness, darkness her eyes couldn’t pierce.

       Suddenly, there came a flash of light so vivid it forced her back, craving the darkness more than she previously had. With the light came the howling of a thousand voices crying out in terror, or madness, or whatever fever gripped them. The light seemed to reach out as one, clawing at her body with increasing intensity. She felt their fingers, could almost see them as they stretched forward to touch her.

       Kerillian could do nothing as a single cold finger brushed against her arm, and a wave crashed over her.

       Millions of voices were chanting in her ears, warning her of things to come, or of things that may come. Goddess she couldn’t tell through all the noise. She saw Athel Loren burning, then swallowed by the weave. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her Ulthuani cousins followed, then the dwarves, and even parts of the reikland. Her gods failed, the dwarven gods, all save for Sigmar.

       They were all consumed. The world would fall to darkness, a plaything for the dark powers of foul Gods.

       Just as the light began to overwhelm her, it vanished, leaving her in darkness once more.

       Tears still streamed down her face, falling into the nothing around her. She clutched at her shuddering frame in a halfhearted attempt at warming her core. It didn’t help.

       “Why?” She whispered. “Why would you forsake us?”

       “Who?”

[pips-squeak]

OH ok so cranboo was definitely put into the prison bc of the tnt bc during sams prerecorded ‘before the prison breakout’ stream he mentions that cranboo is being put in the prison bc of the same reason cranboo asked him to be put in the prison in the first place….. unless I’m misremembering ranboos lore in which case never mind

so I’ve seen people saying that the ccs chose another reason for why cranboo was put in prison other than the tnt (to try and get ctechno to turn against cdream), or that we were just flat out wrong, but I think we were genuinely right about ranboo being put in the prison for the tnt and then being killed for it

think about it, why else would csam go to the trouble of getting michael to then imprison cranboo just to kill him later on to try and get cdream back in prison? csam didn’t know that cdream was going to breakout, even letting one of the guards, ant, to not go into work that day

I think that cranboo WAS imprisoned for the tnt and that csam felt justified killing him bc of it, and that he either tried to bargain with the chance that ctechno would turn against cdream, effectively killing two birds with one stone, OR that he simply lied to cdream, not wanting to let the person most likely behind the plan of the tnt that he knows what he did.

[sywtwfs]

I realize probably none of us want to revisit what happened to Anna ): but I was wondering why she got -4 deductions when she only fell three times? Unless I'm misremembering, and I can't seem to find any video to check (not that I think I could sit through that again ):

It’s a new rule that was implemented this season, for senior singles skating: the first and second falls get a -1 deduction, third and fourth falls -2 deduction, and any more falls -3 deduction. Anna fell 3 times, so her total deductions became 4.

At the end of Kevin Reynolds's free, the tech schore showed 101.xx , but when the judges scores came out, it was down to 91.06. I've seen the tech score vary by a point or two, but never by 10 whole points, what happened there? Did the score counter glitch or was one of his elements downgraded?

He received 3 underrotation calls, which lowered his TES quite a bit. The technical panel can review jumps for underrotations and wrong edges after a skater’s performance, so sometimes the TES in the box on screen can change a lot when the score comes out.

How many spots team japan has in World?

For next season’s Worlds, Japan has 3 men’s spots, 2 ladies’ spots, 1 pairs spot and 1 ice dance spot.

Bless this blog for existing and making it so easy to access streams and general info about figure skating in general :) I live in Australia and there is literally no coverage on any media for figure skating outside of the olympic year so these streams are my life line

Glad to help! Apparently SBS in Australia was livestreaming Worlds? I didn’t know until recently.

So I realise that the ask about QQlive's legitimacy was a while ago, but I guess this might be useful for future competitions?? QQ is basically the massively popular chinese version of twitter (since twitter is blocked in China). So QQlive streams are like our version of facebook live, making it pretty legit. I watched all of ladies sp and both mens comps on QQ with no problems and I'd definitely recommend it as an option if you live in a country like mine where everything is region blocked

Thanks for the info!

[sumergosuigeneris]

March 10, 2019

Sometimes I get fucked up by twitter. I follow black twitter, grad school shit, and sci shit. So there are times when I see people that remind me of hurts. There’s one that I want to support, she’s kind of famous in the black sci community, but I can’t. I don’t exactly know why. I *think* I had an interaction with her when I worked for the old boss, which was negative. But I’m not sure if I am misremembering, or making things up in my head. I remember being excited by her, and trying to get her involved in *something*. Wanting to get her involved. But I don’t remember if I ever got permission to talk to her. I feel like I vaguely remember having an email exchange or a phone call, and she had an attitude. Like why would she want to be involved in whatever I was talking to her about? Or maybe I was trying to get her to talk to the old boss, and she had no desire? I don’t know right now what it was but I can’t get the taste out of my mouth.

And the lady who was someone I looked up to, but tried to get my fired b/c she was mad at my old boss? She’s involved with some of the other black scientists I admire, so I feel like a) I couldn’t talk to them, in case we crossed paths again, and b) I couldn’t ever get the hurt out of my heart and so they’re all tainted by her. Including someone I went to undergrad with.

It’s sad. And it’s on me. But right now, for the last couple years at least, it is what it is.

Also, I really need to stop following grad school/grad school sci twitter.

I got down these rabbit holes. People get offended over things that I try to understand why, because on the surface I don’t agree. And then I understand, and try to convince myself that theirs are right for all. Sometimes it’s true, and sometimes it’s really just true for some people, and shouldn’t be put on all people. Like today, I found a whole thing about why calling certain people ‘female’ instead of ‘women’ is insulting. I try to see the logic, I sort of get it, but I just can’t make myself agree.

Yesterday, I started thinking about the english language (b/c I was doing my language stuff) and how male forms are used to encompass male plus female. Like, in my words, three guys is guys. Three women is girls. And a group of men and women, is still guys. And I know that the people who want to get rid of all that are right in pointing out the patriarchal, misogynisticness of it all. And of course, the spectrum of gender needs to be acknowledged and respected. But part of me just doesn’t see a reason to change, if the words I use are known to refer to a bunch of people, not just specific people. Or like folks vs. folkx. Folks doesn’t have a particular gender, so why does it need to be changed? But I also suspect that part of my problem with this all, might harken back to an earlier age when I was quite the ‘grammar knotsy.’ Language is maleable and fluid and I need to get over myself.

I will stand my ground about one thing. There are some words or phrases that offensive to some, but inoffensive to a lot of others (within a particular group, not referring to the ‘mainstream’). If I don’t find it offensive, or know people that find it offensive, I think that outside of people who I know it offends, it shouldn’t be a big deal if I use it. Case in point: female. If I know you find it offensive, I won’t use it about you or around you. But that’s it. For now. Maybe I’ll be open to changing my mind later.

Still not sure where I”m at on the Jussie thing. Chicago police are KNOWN to be heinous.

I lost my toothpaste cap. Until/unless I find a replacement, this tube’s experiment is over.

I finished my levar book. It was okay. Then I went for a walk. I think my spot list updated incorrectly or something? Songs I definitely deleted are there. Aggravating as fuck.

Then, there’s the fact that I found a stray dog. The stray dog was on the beach. The beach is sand and ice. I spent a lot of time trying to find some help. Now, at one point a bike rider comes up close. He had to have heard me talking to the dog about trying to get her (I think) help. Yet, I’m pretty sure he called someone else for help. And didn’t say anything to me. Like, what the fuck? It felt like he was being sexist, totally erasing my existence and efforts.

I tried to build some trust and/or follow the dog to see if there was a human. That is a tricky tricky dog. But in the end, the dog had plenty of opportunity to approach a number of humans for help, and yet avoided us all. I have to believe in the dog’s ability to take care of itself. But I worry. And after trying to ascertain whether or not animal control is no-kill, I called and reported her. I did point out she was very avoidant, so that they could make a judgement call with all the info.

As I was walking back, I saw a number of people streaming into the park clubhouse. A lady crossing the street talked to me. She told me there was a free concert. I ended up going for a bit. Good/decent symphony orchestra. Interesting pieces - a Finnish composer I’d never heard of before. I wanted to thank her, but the crowd was big. I did end up seeing her and she was happy that I was there. She gave me a kiss and a bit of a hug. It made me feel so happy. And weird - I don’t get kisses often, so when I do, my cheek(s) always hold onto the sensation for a while. Touch-starved maybe? The patheticness of it all makes me emotional.

I worked my butt off in the last hour+ to make sure I was in the top 10. I got up to 5 or 6 and did the math - unless all of them busted ass, I’d stay in the 10. Yup. Ended 6. Not sure if that’s what I had been, or someone else had a last push, but go me. It’s nice to know I didn’t quit on something.

It really sucks going for a long walk in the wrong pants or the wrong socks or the wrong shoes.

Watching cbs for god’s my friend, and they’re doing women’s history psas. Girl. They were all people of color!!!!! It’s so great when major corporations recognize that there are more than just white women (or men) making contributions in this world.

Started Eureka again, so I can veg out. Mostly not paying attention, until the end of Season 1 Episode 5. Allison and Jack were really getting their flirt on, and then it went bizonkers. I think it’s because of the part of the episode where Jack for reals almost died. If Carl hadn’t saved him with the help of the artifact, I don’t think he could have been saved. And in the last season Allison kept getting cold feet b/c she was afraid of him dying, so it makes sense that she pulled back after this episode. And they did have the convo re: fear at the end, so I think that for 4 (years?) she was just scared.  Nathan was safe, not just b/c she had a past with him (and thus knew the good and bad and the risks and rewards), but also b/c until the end of his tenure, he was never ever in dangerous situations - he always sent Jack. But also, the ridiculousness of the guy always having to initiate. As someone who’s been in the weird position once or twice, and even without that experience, I really feel for guys. They’re the ones mostly taking chances and risking their hearts and pride.

From a st post on the blr, I started looking up some st female stuff, and almost had my heart ripped out. They threatened, like seriously, to kick Marina Sirtis off the last TNG movie?!?!?! I used to read some of the magazines for a while, but never got into following any shows or movies or music or whatever, behind the scenes, on the internet, so the shit I have found out at such a late date. For the record, Troi’s character (and really this applies to most female characters for most ST series) was one of the weaker characters due to the writers not writing up to her potential - because she was a woman, and because most of the writers were guys. Sirtis (and the other chicks) did the best with what she was given. I mean, like most female characters in other shows for a long time, Troi was frequently violated. They just had their rape fantasies as mental violation vs. the usual physical. There was some sexist as hell shit going on, even at ST. And not that it’s all, or possibly even mostly, Rick Berman’s fault, I’m gonna lay at least a portion of it at his feet. Fuck Rick Berman. I hate that man, like some people hate their rival sports teams. But with more venom and less sportsmanship.

Yeah, I got sucked into some crazy, old st shit. Oh boy. I’m not sure if missing all this as a child was good or bad. But it is illustrative of my inability to find the interesting shit online.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

… I’m sorry, but this isn’t how the prison stream went down at all. It’s cool if you can’t watch the streams or read the wiki, people have their own specific needs, but… Pussboy (Dream didn’t name her Hope, he called her hope metaphorically and said he named her on a seperate occasion btw. It’s a very fair assumption he named her Hope, but it’s not canon, so it wouldn’t be on the wiki!) was in no way the reason Dream killed Tommy. Like, at fucking all. He explicitly said the reason and it was because Tommy was doubting the Revive Book.

And again, do you genuinely think the prison streams would have ended without Tommy’s death, like even had a possibility of it, without a blooper? She wasn’t meant to be there. Unless you think things were changed on the fly, including several other characters arcs, she was absolutely not the reason for Tommy’s death.

I understand not being able to watch the streams, but that also means you’re probably not going to have a super accurate knowledge of what happened with them, because you’re getting second hand knowledge of other peoples memories. Heck, some of what I say here was probably a bit misremembered!

Hey why isnt Hope on the list of Dream's pets on the wiki. I never go on the wiki on my computer so I cant comfortably (for me) add her and her importance