bc I can feel it in my bones that even though I haven't seen it yet, it's happening somewhere and it's gonna get worse.
Can we all agree as a community to do a few things while we get more information trickling in about the layoffs:
We will not bully the devs that are still on staff at bungie. It was the CEO's/the higher ups decision to do mass layoffs. It is not the fault of the remaining developers for who says/who goes. They are people just trying to do their job please be kind to them
We will not bully/harass the people who still want to play the game. This is a game that means a whole lot to a lot of folks, and we shouldn't shame them for continuing to play. There has been no official boycott/protest made (at least from what I've seen as of 11/1/23) by developers or unions to protest the destiny franchise. If you choose to refund your preorders or stop playing that's a-okay. It's your choice to do so, there's no shame in that. Just be mindful that not everyone is ready to drop a game they've put months of their lives into enjoying.
We will support the developers in giving them proper, constructive feedback and stop cycling the "this game is officially dead" mindset. For months we've had a hate train of people shitting on the game and it's lead us to this point. I won't say it's directly responsible for the layoffs, but from what we've been shown the current community sentiment definitely was a part of the decisions. There are issues with the game, yes, but there's a difference between spouting every single thing you dislike about destiny and giving feedback on how you want to see changes be made to bad/disliked systems.
just,, fuckin be kind to each other y'all. We'll never have all the answers as to how and what caused us to get to this point, only theories. Play the game if you want to, don't if you don't. If you're tired of playing, take a break. I know things suck right now but sometimes walking away is the best option.
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the fact that this exists is truly sending me in a threat that's about unpopular opinions. HOW CAN THESE TWO COEXIST? SURELY ONE OPINION IS THE ACTUAL UNPOPULAR ONE AND THE OTHER ONE IS JUST YOUR PERCEPTION OF IT BEING UNPOPULAR. also i deem attractiveness as overall attractiveness of character - appearance, voice (yeah this is so highly debated and some motherfuckers TRULY are very wrong for their hot garbage takes, to the point where they should not be allowed to have opinions on women), and writing.
look there's a LOT i wanna say about people who comment on minthara that
never actually recruited her properly
never even recruited her
only kind of know what she's like from other people's snippets of her lines etc, so the whole narrative of her as a character doesn't REALLY tie in together for them
read lines that even minthara enjoyers think are inconsistent bits in writing and use that as a jumping point to explain why her character's bad.
but im afraid if i go off i'll never stOP
also im not even going to bother commenting on moral compass in a video game. i've said too much about that already.
and lets add in a little bonus of something something queer women something something grew up with queer coded villains something something backfired something something no we all think evil women are hot and right and we'd let them do anything to us something something those characters are usually voiced by older women with more mature/deep/"evil sounding" voices.
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People talk about SQ going on a villain arc, but personally I've always thought he'd be more likely to just shut himself away for a while
He'd fall off the map, become a recluse not because he's trying to hide from his father, or his uncle for that matter, but because he's so confused and mixed up and lost he isn't thinking clearly
He finds an empty old house, one in a little town somewhere in the middle of nowhere, that he can live in. It's in much worse condition than Mr. Benedict's, and he gets to stay because he does farm chores for the nearby people who own the property
A quiet town. No one questions why this boy appeared, and as he keeps to himself no one bothers him
He comes into the general store sometimes, or maybe the hardware store. Buying basic necessities, repair materials, and asking sometimes strange questions with obvious answers in an embarrassed way
Every now and again, he stops by the pet store. Buying a small bird or two and an obscene amount of birdseed
He becomes known as a lonely artist, a mysterious figure the adults ignore for the most part and the children whisper about. He doesn't pay either reaction any mind
SQ's house is full of art
Colour splashed across the floor, tiny vines and butterflies covering the shutters, vibrant shades all over the fan blades. He etches painstakingly accurate bird footprints on every windowsill, sketches large diagrams of feathers and bird wings across most of the walls, because, who's there to tell him no?
He tries to teach himself to whittle, and there are many mishapen lumps of woods that vaguely resemble birds lined up on the back porch. (He knows they're terrible, but he can't bring himself to throw them away. He feels too guilty, after all, he's the one who brought them into existence. If he won't love them, who will?)
And he has a lot of birds. Some were wild ones he befriended, leaving food and nesting material out until they felt comfortable enough to rest in the rafters, flying in and out of the near-always open windows. Some were bird he saw, either sitting in a cage when they had no business to be, or wandering the park looking half frightened and confused. Birds that people had captured from their natural homes and probably smuggled, hoping to pass them off in a small enough town where no one would notice. Some were birds that had been "released" by their previous owners; left to wander an environment that was not their own and to fend for themselves when they'd been raised domesticated
It's these last few he feels for the most. It's not fair, he thinks. There's no one to take care of them, and it isn't their fault they were forced into a situation like this. At some point, someone had hurt them. Had taken advantage of their innocent nature, and it left some scarred.l
Some physically, like the ones who needed their wings splinted, or had lasting limps, or sometimes were even half blind. And sometimes mentally, like those that still shrank back from his touch after months of rehabilitation, or had missing patches of feathers, or would hiss instead of sing
And so he became known as sort of a wild artist. Someone who seemed to know everything about art and birds and the forest, but occasionally could be seen asking how microwaves worked or whether he would have to pay for checking books out of the small local library (He always returned them in perfect condition)
And, eventually, after he's had some time to think, he calls his uncle. He isn't sure how to contact his dad, but he isn't really surprised to hear the two are living together again. They're twins, after all
And so he tells them where he is, tells them that he wants to talk, wants to understand. And to his surprise, they come to him. And they offer apologies, and answers both
While the kids marvel at the birds and his art and the small collection of poetry and naturalist books he's been slowly building up as he shows them around, the adults confer on what it best to do
And he thinks that, if it's offered, he'd like to go back with them. But he isn't sure. And he's still caught off guard when they ask
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