#and sort out the infestation of nasty on there

[silurisanguine]

Should do one that doesn't include Tumblr: "Which would you keep ? ( apart from Tumblr of course) "

[hypewinter]

Jason had been sitting in his living room, maintenancing his weapons when a circle appeared before him. It was big and swirling. It's hue very much akin to the sickening green of the Lazarus pits. He quickly realized the circle was in fact a portal as a teen stepped out of it. The teen wore surgical gloves and a mask over what appeared to be a hazmat suit. His hair was silver and seemed unaffected by gravity. Worse of all though, were his eyes that were that same damn color that Jason had long since grown to hate.

Jason grabbed two guns that were not currently taken apart and aimed them at the boy, taking a menacing step forward as he did so. "Who are you?" he growled. "What do you want?"

To his surprise, the boy didn't threaten him or gloat about some massive plan already under way. He didn't even offer some sort of vague, cryptic advice. Instead, the teen actually took a step back, covering his nose with one arm while putting the other up in surrender.

"Don't come any close!" he yelped. "The stench is already bad enough from here."

Jason blinked. What? "Excuse me?" was all he could utter.

The boy turned away slightly and dry heaved. "Ugh, so nasty."

Jason was having trouble figuring out what was going on. Even with his detective training. "Did you- did you just call me nasty?" he finally managed to splutter out.

The boy turned back to him, his eyes crinkling in utter disgust. "Uh, yeah. What else would you call a flea infested rat?"

"Flea infested-" Jason squawked.

"Listen could you just come with me so that we can get all of that taken care of asap," the boy said, gesturing towards Jason.

Regaining his composure a little, Jason tightened his grip on his weapons. "Hell no! I'm not going anywhere with you until you start explaining."

Despite having two guns pointed at his head, the teen only let out a deep sigh.

"Fine, have it your way." He replied, stepping towards Jason. The vigilante heard the kid mumbling, "You can do this. Think of it as handling a stinky baby. A very disease infested stinky baby," as he got closer and closer.

Jason fired off a warning shot next to the kid but the boy didn't even flinch. Fine, Jason thought. We can do this the hard way. He aimed at the boy's knee cap and fired. Only for the bullet to pass right through him. The boy neared him before picking him up like an unruly kitten. Jason went limp as he officially stopped processing what was happening. How the hell had this kid managed to lift him so effortlessly?

He didn't put up a fight as the boy turned around and led them both back through the portal, his arms outstretched as far away from his torso as possible. Jason's mind had just barely started to process information again when this weird furry, horned creature appeared in front of him.

"Ah Great One! You've returned," it said.

"Yeah yeah just hurry up and take this from me before I throw up!" the teen replied, setting Jason down and distancing himself.

The creature fixed the boy with a stern look. "That is not how we treat patients, Great One. Need I remind you? It was you who wanted to be my apprentice and all that entails. That includes treating our patients with the utmost professionalism. Regardless of your personal feelings."

The teen actually had the nerve to look sheepish, maybe even a little guilty. As if he hadn't just spent the last 5 minutes mercilessly insulting Jason.

The two continued talking for a time and Jason was more than happy to let them. It gave him time to process what the hell he was looking at and with any luck, they would let slip some crucial information. Instead however, they ended up discussing more about whatever this apprenticeship was before the weird looking creature turned back towards Jason.

"Apologies for the rudeness my apprentice has shown you," he said.

Jason muttered out an 'uh huh' in response.

The creature clapped his hands. "Now then, shall we get you examined?"

Examined? Jason staring blankly at the creature. Then he stared at the teen, hoping to gleam any info from their facial expressions. Nothing. And of course he did have his comms or his sos signal on him. Great, just great. What an absolutely craptastic situation he found himself in. He'd be sure to come back and haunt Bruce this time. Maybe even Dick. He swore that much.

[observershroom]

Day 9 - relationships

Jotted down what D's and his best friend's meeting might've looked like.

Summary: sad guy at a party hides in a bathroom and finds out it's occupied by some weird funny man and they hit it off

And disclaimer: i don't consider myself a writer and english's not my 1st language and i did a mid job proofreading. Feedback, however, is appreciated. Just be nice about it (please)

The party was overwhelmingly loud, leaving D disoriented and tucked into the corner of the kitchen. He felt the beer get warmer through the thin walls of the red plastic cup and looked at the liquid, completely lost in his lack of any productive ideas. No coherent, shareable thought was forming in his head and shame was starting to bubble up. “God, I’m wasting his time.” D chuckled to himself, looking up at Adam, who was laughing with a group of people in the center of the room. He contemplated leaving several times this evening, but didn’t want to disappoint the only guy that cared about his personal life enough to try to introduce him to new crowds, even if his hands-off approach in social situations wasn’t what D needed. With a cup of beer still in his hands, he scanned the room for someone he could talk to, but most people were already bundled up in impenetrable conversation bubbles and he felt hopeless.

Downing the nasty warm beer in big gulps he shook his head trying to get over the aftertaste and decided to take a break from all this. Wash his face before he breaks into tears, sit down on the cold bathroom floor and come up with some sort of strategy. With a nice clack he placed the cup on a sticky kitchen counter and shuffled to the only room that wouldn’t be infested with partygoers.

After bumping into a few people on the way and following those collisions up with a few “pardon!”-s and “my bad!”-s, he finally made his way to the creaking bathroom door and slipped inside the room, immediately going up to the faucet and splashing his face with water. The room was tiny, barely able to fit a sink, a washing machine with all sorts of bottles and a laundry basket stacked on top, a toilet, which he decided to sit on after carefully closing the lid and a bath, which he just noticed was hidden behind a shower curtain. Not wanting to look into what it might be hiding he sighed into a towel he grabbed from one of the clotheslines that made the bathroom feel even more cramped, wiping the water from his face and neck. And then he heard rustling coming from the bathtub. Trying his best not to groan from the disappointment, he looked up, still hiding most of his face in the towel. From the tub peaked out a head full of washed-out pink hair. “Doing good, buddy?” the stranger asked with a sympathetic smile.

“God, I wish. These parties are gonna kill me one of these times.”

“Ha, tell me about it! At least here it’s not too loud,” he contemplated. “Oscar, by the way. Nice to meet you,” said the man, reaching for a handshake.

D eyed the strange man’s outstretched hand. After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed it, introducing himself, “Uh, D.” After a brief pause, he added, “Why are you in the bathtub?”

The questioned was followed up with a bright laugh. Before Oscar answered, he vaguely gestured around the room, and just as soon as D started to expect some profound answer after witnessing all of the grand arm movements, the pink-haired guy simply stated, “It’s the leg space,” and then followed it up with a question. “Now why are you here? The party, I mean. I think I can guess the reason for the bathroom-dwelling.”

“I’m with this guy and he.. um- his name is Adam actually- well he dragged me along, said something about how I stop being a hermit and uhh… I- I mean he means well but… I’m just. Not used to any of this I guess.”

“Not a people person?”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s more like…" he looked around, before continuing, "Like I feel out of place despite living here for so long already. I speak the language, sure, but I’ve been through so much shit people here just... don’t understand,” D rambled, words pouring straight out of his soul. This was the first time he felt like he could just whine about his life being so… complicated. Sure, he had Adam, but Adam was a practical man. If D had a problem, Adam jumped straight to solutions. No break, no breather, no time for self-pity. This stranger, however, had none of that pressuring aura. He seemed laid-back and a good listener and his smile was so reassuring. D could feel his eyes watering, but managed to hold the tears back this time, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jacket.

“I hear you. I’m also not on the same wavelength as most,” he shuffled around the tub, now facing D, “You know, you and I are more alike than I expected.”

“How so?”

“I can’t quite put it into words…” frustrated, he exhaled forcefully, “You’re just… a simple, honest guy. You’re honest about yourself, I feel like you’d make a great artist.” The last part was said quieter.

“Are you an artist?”

“Me? Oh, that… I guess you could say that,” he rubbed his neck, “though I find that word to be too… Pretentious for what I do,” he winced.

“And that is?”

“I’ve written some poems and short stories, got some published even,” D couldn’t quite tell if Oscar was proud of or disappointed by that fact from his tone. “But mostly ghostwriting and other paid stuff. You get busy once you graduate. If I knew how much you’d have to work to get by as an author I’d write more personal stuff in college.”

“Wait, do you actually make your living writing shit?”

“Yes, I-”

“That’s so cool, man!” D interrupted, jumping up from the toilet lid. “Way cooler than working minimum wage!” he looked back at Oscar, noticing how flustered he made him and promptly landed back on the lid. “I- uh. I don’t mean to say it’s easy I just- I dunno why I got so excited” he murmured, feeling his own cheeks heating up, which in turn made Oscar burst into laughter at his eagerness.

“D, you’re like, the first person ever to think I’m even remotely cool,” he wheezed, wiping away a tear.

“Wha- But you’re like some fucking.. Byron-ass motherfucker! Or uh.. I dunno. I don’t actually read much.”

“Thanks, man. Really. You just made my day,” he said, calming down. “But I’m still curious about what you do.”

“I mean aside from work… Nothing worth mentioning, I guess”

“Do tell!”

“Haaahh,” D threw his head back, “I guess I can play some guitar. Not that well, though.”

“Promise me you’ll play for me some day,” Oscar said, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“I mean… Okay? Sure.” D thought for a bit, then added, “I could do it right now if someone here has one.”

Oscar’s eyes lit up like embers. “Wait here! And get into the bathtub!” He stormed off, slamming the door shut behind him. D followed his movement open-mouthed, taking a pause before he eventually climbed into the tub and sat down, awkwardly bringing his knees up to his torso.

Moments later, Oscar returned with a guitar, handing it to his newly found friend.

“Where did you even get this,” D uttered, still shocked from such a fast turn of events.

“Borrowed from some pass-out drunk,” he winked, as he sat down on the same toilet lid D occupied before. “Now, shall you serenade me, my dear?” He asked, with the most pompous tone D ever heard, looking at him with sly eyes.

D had no choice but to pick up the instrument. He strummed the strings, noticing a couple were a touch out of tune, and plucked each one a few more times, fiddling with the pegs.

He cleared his throat, strumming the guitar a couple more times to adjust to the new instrument, before finally getting into a pattern, shifting his fingers with each new chord, making the strings squeak. Across him, Oscar closed his eyes, getting accustomed to the groove of the intro. And then D started singing.

“Белый снег, серый лед*,” he looked up at Oscar, who was bobbing his head to the rhythm. With newfound confidence, he continued singing. The party noises outside the bathroom seemed to melt away for the both of them, leaving the duo in a bubble of D’s quiet, slightly raspy voice, the sounds of the chords flying off the guitar strings with messy strums and the occasional squeak after a chord change. After he finished, D looked up at Oscar, who answered with subdued applause.

*The literal translation of this line is "White snow, grey ice." It's a lyric from Звезда по имени Солнце by the soviet band Кино. One of their more mainstream songs, but i still urge you to check it out.

Also, if you made it this far - have a quick doodle of D playing the guitar (i wanted to do a full illustration but i don't have the time for it :c )

[epic-dragon-hell-99]

Fake (Ancient) dragon breed I made up based vaguely on this post; it didn't end up as simplistic as the original would imply (especially by Spore standards), and the suggestion of a dragon that's "all spikes and eyes" was difficult to resist. Nonetheless, I like how it turned out!

Decided to call them Lancet Dragons, after the prominent spine that more or less replaces a tail. The primary covers most of the body- although the belly's in a bit of an odd place, wrapping around the "lobes"; the secondary occurs around the neck and down the back, as well as on the frill and the lower proboscis.

More info + extra pics below the cut!

My drawing pad's drivers are screwy right now; that's part of why it doesn't quite look like most things I draw nowadays. To be fair, though, I'm rediscovering that thicker lines can be fun!

Design was influenced by various different organisms, most of which could be summarized by "some kind of worm or worm-like thing." However, I did give them a slightly anteater-like snout, if a stubby one; furthermore, while the first pair of eyes are more of a "general subterranean" look, the second were based more specifically off of the wrinkly-lidded lump eyes you see on, like, baby birds and occasionally lizards, and the third were kind of mudskipper-esque, kind of like a midpoint between a slug or snail and a frog. I imagine both of these larger pairs can be tucked into the head underground. Similarly, I imagine the proboscis as eversible, able to be "slurped" back into the mouth up to the mandibles, and the head likely tucks into the neck folds to some degree as well. The frill, of course, can be raised and lowered, much like the lizards' it's based off of.

For some bonus material, here's the artwork without the Smirch, as well as a .png copy of the base itself (since I accidentally drew it at 350x350px, instead of giving myself space for details):

In terms of lifestyle, I think these guys would be carnivores, but able to facultatively switch to a more plant-based diet by infesting dense roots (and mycelium, technically). Perhaps they could even inhabit the trunks of large trees? They'd mainly tunnel around in Plague's Pet Flesh Pit™, gnawing through rot and leeching nutrient-rich fluid from various pustules and venous structures. However, I imagine they could be mobilized as a devastating weapon against the ecology of any flight terrain with sufficient living biomass... Nature first and foremost.

I think their lore would revolve around having entered a sort of tardigrade-like vegetative state, somewhere between a deep hibernation and outright ceasing activity, only passively exchanging nutrients with their surroundings at most. This wouldn't be an unusual condition for them, though, but more a feature of the breed; an ability that lets them lay dormant for centuries at a time, like ancient bacteria trapped in permafrost. Normally, they would probably awaken when either a) conditions improved enough to support a higher metabolism, or b) they were forcefully excavated or otherwise injured. However, the whole breed probably could've burrowed deep into Plague territory and entered this state for the duration of the Plague-Nature truce, awakening when signaled to by the unrest at the surface. (I'm not sure if the timeline would line up, though...)

I imagine they don't usually fight, but their tail spines are used in self-defense when necessary, writhing about to wave them this way and that. (They probably have a decently nasty bite, too...) When it's not being used as a defensive feature (or perhaps an intimidating display), I imagine the tail spines are used to precision-inject their eggs into nutrient-dense locales, ovipositor-style. Maybe instead of traditional nests, they can form galls?

They aren't very big, probably around the size of a chunky Spiral. Furthermore, they'd probably have terrible vision, despite the tripled eye-count from standard breeds; it helps them see from more angles and gives them better depth perception (when aligned), but none of the eyes have particularly strong vision. This- plus the fact they have difficulty moving above ground, and tend to be ill-socialized in order to better share resources- means they have difficulty adapting to life with Modern clans. Not to mention they'd probably be agoraphobic to some degree, since they're so squishy.

They tend to like the dark, and often climb onto larger dragons in order to be carried around (and perhaps better simulate their natural habitat). However, they need to be taught not to opportunistically leech off of such dragons that accept this behavior, or at least to learn self-control; it's partially instinctive to parasitize their surroundings, but most dragons don't take kindly to getting nipped (much less to the very serious diseases they can carry).

That's about it for Lancet Dragons! This marks the second time I've made a full breed psd + gene mockup for a breed concept. Nowadays I'd probably consider the Ancient symbol a stylized Sandsurge, although I don't think it was designed as such. I still think Quakesteps were a cool concept, though! (Funny enough, both of these guys have alternate Secondary placements as opposed to wings. I feel like there's a lot of possibilities there that the FR team hasn't really delved into yet!)

[saithebatguy]

TIMING: Current FEATURING: @rangervazquez & @saithebatguy LOCATION: The state park. SUMMARY: Sai comes upon Pedro trying to fend off a Ker.

Sai picked his way along the trail, back to his car, dense underbrush on either side, slowing down when he heard something odd up ahead. He rounded a corner, as the trail opened up, to see a Ker, wings flapping, and someone in a park ranger uniform trying to fend it off. He knew Kers all too well, after a nasty infestation of them in the graveyard a few decades back, and would have loved to never see one again. But here he was, with the ranger and the Ker directly in his way. They only went after the dead as far as Sai knew, making this person some sort of undead.

Sai glanced around at the trail behind him. He could turn around and leave, but the trail only led back into the deep forest, disappearing a little past the bat colony he came out here to see. With his phone out of reception, and limited navigation skills, he wasn’t all too confident in his ability to find his way if he left the trail. And if the Ker finished off this person, well, they were great at tracking the undead, and he didn’t want to be nearby climbing over logs if it found him next. 

And there was only one of them. With any luck, there weren’t more around. “Is that the only one of those?” Sai called out to the ranger.

—

Pedro really was not having the best day.  There was always something that came up, it seemed, but this certainly took the cake. He’d been minding his own business, tidying up the trail and whistling a jaunty tune as he worked. Up until It flew down and decided it wanted to make him lunch. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but it looked like a particularly big and angry kind of vulture. Perhaps a mutant vulture. Maybe this was what was next. First the veggie lambs, then the massive cicadas, now this. It leered at him, baring its way-too-many teeth. He could smell Its breath, and that smelled of death. Tons and tons of death. Wielding the rake as best he could, he managed to drive it back a little. Would bear spray work on these? “Are you kidding me?! I sure hope so!” Pedro called back. “Help me!” 

—

Sai eyed the Ker warily, not wanting to get any closer. But if the two of them could take the thing out, it would be better for both of them. And he was lucky, this guy would be a type of undead with some sort of fighting abilities. Vampire or zombie, maybe. He inched closer, but kept a bit of distance, in case the Ker decided to switch targets to someone who wasn’t wielding a rake. 

“Do you have another rake?” Sai said to the man. “Or a shovel or something? Anything? I’m not getting close to that thing, unless I have something between it and me.” A rake didn’t seem like the best choice, but considering it was what this guy was holding, he was guessing this man didn’t have a lot of better options at the ready. And Sai didn’t exactly make a habit of walking around armed. He’d have to take what he could get.

— 

Pedro was a ranger, not a cop! He didn’t go around packing heat, and he hadn’t brought the truck this far up the track so he didn’t have many more supplies. Although - if they could distract the creature long enough, they could make a break for the vehicle and get the hell out of here. He swung the rake out again, and the creature screeched at him - puffing the smell of decay into his face and putting him at real risk of losing his lunch. Which was really not the biggest concern right about now. 

“I have bear spray? Does that even work on whatever this is?! We distract it and we book it for the ranger truck, okay?” Pedro yelled, with a lot more confidence in his plan than he actually felt. 

— 

“Bear spray sounds great,” Sai yelled over the ker’s squawking when the man hit it with a rake. It didn’t seem to do much more than annoy it. Sai had no idea if bear spray would work on a ker, but bears were pretty tough, so who knew. And it had to be better than the rake, right? 

Just a bit farther down the trail spread out an official access only road. Sai had parked way back at the parking lot, but as a ranger, hopefully this guy’s car would be a lot closer. Making a run for his truck might be their best shot, at least if it was actually distracted by the bear spray. Sai didn’t like how that meant he would probably end up the one in the back, but he wasn’t coming up with a lot of better options or anything. “Only if the bear spray does nothing, maybe stay there and we’ll come up with a new plan.” It seemed like the two of them were in this together now, for better or worse. 

— 

The problem with the truck was that it didn’t fit all the way down some of the smaller side roads, but Pedro had made it far enough up the access road that they could reasonably make a run for it. Or so he hoped. He didn’t exactly have the best track record of surviving encounters with random woodland creatures. Well, at least not without some kind of supernatural intervention. Now was not the time to philosophise about what would happen if you theoretically died twice. More about making sure that he didn’t find out. Pedro lashed out with the rake again, to give himself a little space to pull out the bear spray and fire it how he was trained. Just below the thing’s face, so it would hopefully go into its eyes and give them an out… It reared up, clearly irritated - but also seemed disorientated, so he decided to seize the moment. Tossing the rake to the ground, he retreated the way he came. Eyes still fixed on the creature, spray still at the ready. “I don’t know if they got a chase instinct, so, uh, rethinking the ‘book it’ part. Back away slowly.”

— 

The ker seemed out of it, at least for the moment, giving them the perfect window. “I think it has an instinct to eat us, running or not,” Sai said, as the ranger ditched the rake. The bear spray move was strategic, but leaving behind their only other weapon seemed less so, especially if he didn’t plan to run for it. “I’m pretty sure those things can smell the undead from who knows how far away.” 

Maybe Sai should stick around with him. He didn’t feel amazing about leaving the ranger behind, but Sai didn’t intend to wait around for the Ker to find its bearings again either. “You can back away, I’ll see you at the car,” Sai said, breaking into a run. “But I suggest you run too.” Hopefully, their advantage against the disoriented Ker would last long enough to make it back. And hopefully, if the ranger decided to move slowly enough to get eaten, he’d left the truck unlocked too.

—

Pedro was way out of his depth. He was stuck on things that he knew for a fact, things about non-supernatural creatures. This wasn’t a damn bear. He was being a dumbass. Just like the last time he got himself killed - wait. Undead? This thing tracked the undead? So Sai was - and Sai knew he was - Was it any wonder Pedro remained stuck where he was for a second or two? The thought of the car sent him running too, wildly sprinting down the trail as fast as his legs could carry him. He had to be undead, and didn’t get any of the powers to go with it? Wait, was Sai resurrected too? He had so many questions, none of which he had time to get answers for. All he had time to was pile into the truck, and once Sai joined him, floor it the hell out of there. “Don’t tell me we’re basically tinned food now.”

—

Sai turned to look out the back window, as Pedro raced down the road. There wasn’t any sign of the Ker yet as far as Sai could tell. It seemed like the bear spray had worked pretty wel, at least for now. Something to keep in mind for the future. “I think we should be okay, especially if you get us very far away from here,” Sai said. He turned back to sit straight in the seat, only now remembering his seat belt, which he’d forgotten in the hurry to get in and away.

“First time running into a Ker?” Sai asked, as it clicked into place. He glanced at the rearview mirror on his side. Still no flapping monstrosity. “They’re pretty nasty. It might be awhile until I come back to the state park.” Pedro didn’t seem like he had the option, considering his uniform. “You might want to think of something to do about it, if you’re going to keep working around here,” Sai said. — Pedro focused on the road in front of him, specifically averting his gaze from the rear view mirror. He didn’t want to have to see or think about whatever the hell that thing - a Ker? - was ever again. “Yeah, that’s the plan.” Pedro replied, not entirely in the mood for deep conversation. There was something poetic, or metaphorical, about literally running away from his undeath problems. He could outrun it now, but not forever…probably. He could call in sick tomorrow, although he’d have to be back. That, and he was going to have to find a way to report this that didn’t involve incriminating either of the two of them. Animal harassed visitor, I bear sprayed it and we escaped in a vehicle. Vague enough to be acceptable. Not like anyone was reading the reports for their narrative skill anyway. Eventually, at a safe distance and in a more secluded corner of the parking lot, Pedro drew the vehicle to a halt. At which point, he smacked the steering wheel out of frustration - and instantly regretted it. “Ow! Shit - what do you mean ‘if’? This is my job!” He made an effort to turn around and meet Sai’s eyes, finding himself limited in the effort by his seatbelt. Having tugged at it ineffectually for a couple of seconds, he appeared to suddenly remember how to actually undo the buckle. Then, he finally turned his gaze on his passenger. “This? This whole thing never happened. If anyone asks, I saved you from a bear.”

—

“You’d probably rather be alive than have a job, right?” Sai said, as the man beside him turned to look at him. It looked like they’d manage to shake the Ker for now, as far as Sai could tell, but he’d be happy once he was safely out of the park tonight. “But it’s probably fine. I’m just saying if you’re planning to keep your job, maybe do something about the Ker.” Undead didn’t need jobs in the same way humans did, at least how Sai saw it, but he could understand the man’s attachment to having one. He felt sort of the same way about his rideshare business. It was fun to be a part of human society in that way, even if most vampires he knew would disagree. And money was always useful.

What he couldn’t understand, though, was why this man might need to cover up their encounter with the Ker. Who did he think Sai would tell? Did he think his human bosses would care about the creature? That seemed a little far-fetched. Maybe the ranger was supposed to have taken care of it already? 

“I mean, I would probably just tell a couple other vampires, but no one you know, I’m pretty sure,” Sai told him. Of course, he didn’t actually know that the ranger hadn’t met any of the Noxferatu. But considering Sai hadn’t run into this man before, it seemed a safe bet. —

Pedro thinks he might just be on the verge of losing the few strands of sanity he had left. It was probably fine? How did Sai think he would have explained his sudden resignation? Not everyone had a reputation of being bat-obsessed at the exclusion of all else. He’d spent his whole life studying to get to this point. What was he going to do, just go be undead somewhere else? His grip on the steering wheel was beginning to turn his knuckles pale. “Sai! Holy shit, man. Stop! Just stop fucking talking. I didn’t know what a Ker was this morning. I don’t want to know what it is! Point is - nobody knows I’m undead. Well, my mom does. And now you do too! And you’re a vampire! And what the fuck is my life? My undeath?” He gives up on trying to articulate on that line of thought, in favour of leaning forward to rest his forehead on the wheel. A kind of toddler logic, where if you couldn’t see things they didn’t exist and you wouldn’t have to deal with them. If only it worked that way. “I am so fucked.” He muttered.

—

“Well, of course you wouldn’t tell humans,” Sai said. They didn’t tend to be pro-undead, especially considering the whole eating them thing. But the ranger seemed to not even want to talk about it with a vampire, which seemed like an unusual level of denial. Not that Sai hadn’t seen that type of thing before. His clan had a habit of making new vampires and leaving them to fend for themselves. “But no problem, we don’t have to talk about it. Let me know when the Ker’s gone, though, maybe.” 

Sai opened the door to get out of the truck. His car was parked nearby, and with the Ker nowhere to be seen, it was as good a time as any to leave. Only he stopped at the door. Sai did feel sort of bad for the guy, even if the ranger’s undead crisis was not really his problem. “But if you do have any questions about the undead thing, let me know.” He wasn’t even sure he could help him, honestly. He knew the most about vampires, which evidently the man wasn’t. But, at the very least, he knew more than the ranger did.

—

Pedro didn’t look up, grateful for the opportunity to not have to say anything. He didn’t know how to even begin to articulate it. How to even explain he wasn’t a vampire, but the result of a resurrection. It opened up so many more questions than answers provided. Sai wouldn’t pry into why it happened, who did it, what the costs were. Other people would; they wouldn’t ever see him as the same chill and carefree colleague again. 

He couldn’t ask them for help defeating a Ker either, because that opened up the very same can of worms. He would just have to hope it wandered off by itself in search of easier prey. “I’ll, uh, DM you. If anything comes up.”

[firstofficerwiggles]

Hello! I've binged so much of your writing today and oh my gods, I love it!

I hope I'm not too late to get in on the ask, but one of the star wars boys writing to me would be lovely. I'm over 50, and it's hard to admit this but I've never been on the receiving end of romantic gestures. Don't get me wrong, there's been much love in my life - practical, solid, occasionally goofy - but no romance.

Maybe it's my work? State Department, medic of various sorts including search and rescue, now a security guard. Practical stuff. But I also adore tea parties, and gardens, and steampunk and the entire Star Wars universe. Right now I'm building a Mandalorian medic outfit for conventions because bad ass medic who WILL shoot the asswipe who put that gaping hole in you? Yes.

Anyhow, sorry for babbling on and on at you. Whichever of the ones you think would romance an older woman, and would enjoy being spicy with a lady that can take a punch or dish one out, who grows flowers that also make a useful poultice to clear up that nasty bruise, hm?

Many thanks!

Aelf

Welcome to my blog! I’m so glad you found it and that you’re enjoying my writing. I can’t thank you enough for your kind words 💗 I’m going to ship you with Din Djarin for several reasons, first, I think Din loves badass women with a softer side too, and also because Din definitely needs his own personal medic 😂 (for the Mando’a: cyar’ika = sweetheart, ner kar’ta = my heart)

Cyar’ika,

How are you, my love? I miss you more than I can say. I’m finally headed home after this latest mission for the New Republic. Why is it that so many of their missions need to take place in places that are more swamp than land? I swear I’m going to be scrubbing the beskar for a full week after this glop. I’m also not ashamed to admit that I’m going to need some patching up when I get back to you. I promise I was trying to be careful, but chasing after Trandoshans in a place infested with vines and the galaxy’s biggest mud puddles was a recipe for falling on my ass. Speaking of, there’s probably a few bruises there that I could use your help with. Thankfully I know you don’t mind looking at said ass. Mmm, and you know, if your ass needs any checking, I’m always available. In fact when I get home, I say we send the kiddo to go visit Auntie Peli, and then we get into a nice hot, soapy tub and you can inspect every inch of me, and you know I’m going to want to return that favor. Plus, as I reminded you last time, your kisses do even more for me than your medicines. I think I need to spend at least one entire evening sampling those sweet lips of yours while you’re in my arms. That sounds like sheer heaven to me. And well, you’re always telling me I need to spend more time in bed, so of course, we’ll need to spend several hours there too. It’s important for my health, and for yours too, because I’m sure you need to have some tension relieved like only I can. In fact I intend to see how often I can relieve that tension for you all night long. Ah, ner kar’ta, I wish I were home right now. I can’t wait to hear you saying my name and telling me how much you missed me too. The moment I see you, this helmet is coming off and I’m going to kiss you like something out of one of those romantic holofilms you love so much. You know what, I’m also going to send a message to Peli right now, she might need to keep the baby for a few days, because I think I need lots of extra time to remind you how special you are to me. Until then, take care, cyar’ika and know that I’m hurrying back to you.

Love,

Din

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[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super 073

#ReleaseTheEbisawaCut

This is actually a really good two-parter.  It’s a little formulaic in places, but I was impressed with it when it first aired, and I was worried that it might not hold up today, but it does. 

So to set things up, Jaco has captured a dangerous criminal named Watagash, and on his way to headquarters, he stops off at a ramen stand.  While he’s eating, Watagash breaks out of his containment jar and escapes into space. 

Okay, so I love the idea of a ramen booth in outer space.  However, this sort of undermines the idea that Beerus and Whis are completely blown away by Earth food, doesn’t it?  Like, both of these are cute ideas, but if they have ramen noodles everywhere, then why is Beerus so impressed with our ramen noodles?  And if our ramen noodles are so much tastier than everyone else’s, then you’d think Jaco would never eat space ramen again after sampling the Earth variety.

Wait a damn minute!  Jaco can’t eat noodles!  He told Professor Omori that the only Earth foods compatible with his biology were milk and cheese.  Is that all Space Ramen is?  A bowl of long strands of cheese?  Now that I look at this scene again, it sure looks like cheese.  But that’s gross!  No wonder Whis and Beerus love Earth cuisine.  This is nasty as hell!   Continuity is saved!

Anyway, here’s Watagash before he busts out.  I really like this design.  Jaco describes him as a “mind parasite”, physically weak on his own, but capable of infesting a living host and controlling their body while also greatly enhancing the host’s strength.  So it makes sense that Watagash should look so fragile and insubstantial.  This is probably how Baby’s true form should have looked in Dragon Ball GT, now that I think about it.  I mean, not exactly like this, but you get the idea.  And I think they were heading in that direction when they designed Baby, but they could have taken it even further, and made him far creepier. 

Actually, now that I think about it, could Watagash be another Tuffle weapon, like Baby or Hatchiyack?  Hmm...

Meanwhile, Gohan and Videl see a TV commercial promoting a new movie: Great Saiyaman vs. Mr. Satan.   Starring Barry Kahn as the Great Saiyaman, Pop Idol Amaguri Cocoa as the woman he loves, and Mr. Satan as himself!

Gohan and Videl are astonished, because they see Mr. Satan all the time, and never knew anything about this.  Turns out the whole project has been kept secret, and if there’s one thing Mr. Satan cannot defeat, it’s non-disclosure agreements.  But the teaser trailer’s out now, so he can take his family to the studio where they can see the movie being filmed.  That’s right, they’re advertising the movie while they’re still in the middle of making it.  That... doesn’t sound right, but I don’t know enough about the motion picture business to dispute it.

Mr. Satan meets his co-star, Cocoa, and tries to introduce Gohan as the real-life Great Saiyaman, but Videl cuts him off and explains to him that it’s a secret.  Not everyone wants to be famous like Mr. Satan, and Gohan’s boss is a “stick in the mud”, so if he found out Gohan had a superhero identity, it could hurt his career. 

All right, so we’ve got that all sorted out.  Let’s talk about Barry Kahn.  You might remember Barry from such films as Dragon Ball Z Episode 247, where Majin Buu flirted with one of his female victims and reshaped his face in an effort to look more attractive.  He looked at a magazine to find a suitable model, and the image he chose was that of superstar actor Barry Kahn.  This scene was in the manga as well, so Barry is more true-to-canon than Gregory, or that other Great Saiyaman movie they were trying to film in DBZ Episode 205.

But this is the first time we’ve actually gotten to see Barry as an actual character in the show, and it turns out he’s a huge asshole.  As soon as she shows up on set, he starts demanding that the title of the movie be changed to “Barry Kahn in the Great Saiyaman vs. Mr. Satan.”  Then he flirts with Videl and offers her an autograph, and when she declines, he tries to save face by suggesting that she’s illiterate, so an autograph would serve no purpose for her.  Then while a stuntman prepares to film a scene, Barry calls for a last-minute change, making the stunt inherently dangerous to perform.  I guess this isn’t a union production, then?

Mr. Satan tries to talk him out of it, but Barry quotes a line from Mr. Satan’s autobiography that convinces him to play along with this.  It becomes pretty clear that Barry plays to Satan’s ego to get what he wants out of him.  He says Satan’s book is his favorite, but in fact he’s only read the first page. 

So, to be clear, Barry isn’t just an entitled diva.  He’s also a manipulative, self-serving creep.  They went a little overboard with all of this, but it ties into the plot, so just run with it for now.

Oh, and Pan hates Barry Kahn.  She just takes an instant dislike to the guy, like she’s ready to throw down with Barry right now.  “It’s on sight, Barry Kahn,” she’d probably be saying if she could talk.

So the stuntman looks like he’s in deep trouble, because he now has to leap over a tank, jump inside it and pull out the driver.  And he can’t use ropes or wires because Barry considers them inauthentic and he doesn’t want them used for “his” stunts.  And Satan’s on board and the director is just zoned out for some reason.  Luckily, there’s a hero on set.  Gohan goes to the assistant director and asks if he can do the stunt himself.  Everyone’s skeptical of this idea, but Barry insists on it, because he likes the idea of Gohan getting injured in front of his wife. 

Gohan says the actual reason is that he thinks it would be neat for Pan when she gets older.  She can watch the movie and see her dad in a few scenes.  But come on.  Gohan wears this thing all the time at home.  He keeps looking for excuses to put it on.  No, he’s really doing it to bail out that stuntman, because Gohan is a Good Boy(tm). 

So of course he nails the shot, and then he does the pose and the line, and...

... the director finally comes out of his coma and he’s deeply impressed.  It’s like he somehow knows--without actually knowing-- that he just saw something special here.  Like, whatever it was about the Great Saiyaman has finally been realized on his set, and he wants more.  So he asks Gohan to join the cast and do the rest of the Great Saiyaman’s stunts for this production.  Barry is outraged, but somehow the director seems to be the only one who can keep Barry in line. 

Gohan tries to decline, but Videl tells him to do it, since no one will recognize him under the mask. 

Also, Videl likes seeing him do this.  A lot. 

Ahem.

I forget what Mr. Satan is whispering into Gohan’s ear, but it’s probably something like “I’m the champ!”  or “YEEEEAAAAHHHH!”  I think he just wants Gohan on the set because the fight scenes will be a lot easier to shoot with someone he knows so well. 

So Gohan agrees, and on his way home from shooting the movie, he takes the suit with him, but notices a bank robbery in progress.  Krillin is there to intervene, but he’s about to get some reinforcements from the champion of justice...

Oh, shit.  Sorry, Krillin. 

Yeah, so if these robbers look a little familiar, it’s because they’re the same guys Great Saiyaman and Videl captured in DBZ 201.  Wait, no.  They don’t look like those guys at all?

Okay, he’s the flashback scene from this episode. 

And here’s the two crooks as they appear in the manga, when Great Saiyaman and Videl first meet.  Videl also has on the same flood pants in this chapter, in case you’re wondering why she looks different in the flashback.

But here they are in DBZ Episode 201, which modified their designs and added a third guy to their gang.  Also, they hijacked a bus in this episode instead of a getaway car. 

Anyway, they just got out of jail today, so they’re actually kind of happy to see Great Saiyaman again, so they can get some revenge.  The smaller crook is especially furious about it, which is probably why Watagash takes over his body instead of the other guy.  Suddenly the crook gets super strong and attacks Gohan. 

I should note here that even though Watagash has taken over this guy’s body, it’s not the same deal as when Baby would do it in GT.  The crooks still talks about how much he wants to clobber Great Saiyaman, and even though he has no idea what’s happened to him, he likes the sudden increase in power.  He does not say anything like “You fool, I am the great Watagash, and I have claimed this body as my own!” 

Neither does Watagash seek to trade up, the way Baby jumped from Goten to Gohan to Vegeta.  Watagash has other priorities.

Gohan still defeats the crook, though, and Watagash is forced to retreat.  The next day, news of the Great Saiyaman’s return has spread, and everyone at the studio thinks Gohan must have foiled the robbers using the costume he took home from the set.  Then Bulma shows up and convinces them otherwise.  See, the costume they’re using isn’t just any old costume. Capsule Corp manufactured it for them, and they made two, in order to have a spare in case the first one got damaged during filming.  And Bulma claims that someone broke into the lab last night and stole the spare. 

Luckily, she says, the thief ended up using the suit to fight crimes instead of committing more.  This is a really dumb alibi, but everyone buys it.  Bulma says this is because the entire film industry is used to stories with gaping plot holes.  You know, Dragon Ball Super really isn’t in any position to criticize.  I had to make up a whole thing about cheese ramen, remember?

Anyway, while Gohan thanks Bulma for protecting his secret, Cocoa overhears them talking and learns the truth.  Uh-oh.

Later, she asks Gohan to help her rehearse her lines.  Gohan finds that odd, since Barry would be a better partner for that, but Barry’s a dick, so this only makes sense.  As it turns out, Cocoa just wanted to get Gohan alone to reveal that she knows his secret.  And she asks for a flight home.

And as they take the scenic route, Jaco shows up in his spaceship and prepares to fire on them, because he’s somehow convinced that Great Saiyaman is Watagash’s host.  Seems legit.

[wirewitchviolet]

Thinking About How We Talk

This is one of those subjects I bring up now and then where it feels like I'm lighting a match to inspect some powder kegs. So right up front let me say this is NOT going to be a post where I'm going to actively police the language you use, talk at all about George Orwell, or be some sort older out of touch person who just doesn't understand how younger generations talk. This is all about encouraging personal reflection, considering word choices, inoculating yourself against nasty rhetorical tactics, and history lessons here.

And before I do the whole cut thing I also want to get into a real obvious example of why all this is important. In the last couple of years, people have finally been catching up to this, but for the vast majority of my life, everyone was bafflingly cool with calling the extremists with such a hard-core anti-abortion stance they'd gleefully push policies where people were forced into definitely-a-stillbirth situation which additionally posed a serious risk to their lives and engaged in full on terrorism against people performing abortions or even just potentially pointing people towards the right resources, in a full on bombs and mass shootings in doctor's offices sort of way. And aside from just the disgusting hypocrisy involved in that, this language control was actually effective enough that a huge number of people with pretty reasonable thoughts like "well obviously I don't have a say in what other people do, but I think if I ended up pregnant, even if it wasn't a planned thing, I'd go ahead and have that baby" thought that that meant they were "pro-life" and shouldn't oppose people claiming to be such. That's the sort of terrible situation you get when you just kinda roll with the language shifts total monsters push for.

That's a real grim note to start this off on, so let me dial it back a little. As you may or may not know, just about 10 years ago now, my life went down kind of a weird road where I suddenly found myself spending basically all my time monitoring and combating really hardcore far right extremist groups and their various pushes to mainstream their garbage. The most prominent example of this was the whole Gamergate thing, and the less-publicized string of similar 4chan "ops" where a bunch of creeps from this weird insular pile of misanthropic nazis would do their best to disguise themselves as normal functioning human beings and subtley spread their hateful crap. This was obviously awful in so many ways, but on a certain level it was kind of hilarious because the vast majority of these people were just completely incapable of speaking like normal human beings. They'd be pretending to be concerned housewives or black civil rights activists but still pepper everything with 4chan post signifiers, talking about "cucks" and "fags" and doing the whole bit of ">be me >walk into a walmart >see some SJW talking about mysoggyknees >puke" and whatnot. You could spot them from miles away and see right through them. TERFs of course still work on this level, trying to talk to normal people and rambling about "TIMs" and "large gametes" and "adult human females" and all that.

Now eventually, by and large, they've gotten steadily better at masking this crap. There's some terms and typing styles that have generally dropped off, there's a lot of weird coded phrases they use now that couple plausibly come from the mouths of normal people, but more than anything else, they made this HUGE push years back to infest the hell out of youtube and other websites with a lot of unattended impressionable children. They'd do things like ramble about Minecraft and... whatever else it was 12 year olds were really into around 2015 or so, and subtly pepper in their weird rhetoric, terminology, and conspiracy theories, trying to indoctrinate kids too young to know better, and frankly they made pretty good inroads. I don't know that they were super effective at turning that many kids into full on nazis, but they did a great job of normalizing a bunch of jargon and they at least messed with kids values enough for them to age into the sort of witch-hunting weirdos you see all over Tumblr here just itching to bun people at the stake for being too sex positive or whatever other weird arbitrary reason.

Now, I don't like this because I can no longer look at someone talking about "Chads" and "cucking" and such and know without the slightest doubt that that's one of those hardcore fascist creeps talking, which bugs me but, ow well, damage done. But also, you know, words mean things. You really can influence someone's thought patterns by encouraging trends in their vocabularies. Cults know this, that's why they're so keen on actually policing the hell out of how members talk, getting them to only express certain concepts in certain ways and all, so they don't ever question certain baseline assumptions and whatnot. And that still applies when you freely choose to adopt certain language.

This isn't always a huge problem. Hardcore nazis talk about "Chads" all the time as part of this super messed up offshoot of pickup artistry where there are inherently superior "Chads" that whatever woman you're hoping to manipulate into banging you are always going to pick over you, the wannabe pickup artist loser, because ultimately women are awful contemptible things incapable of seeing your best qualities, and when you go down that rabbit hole far enough people push you into going on killing sprees in hope of the government being brought to their knees and forcing women to ignore their Chad preference and date people like you under penalty of imprisonment or something. Super messed up, but as that one got mainstreamed it seems to have distorted a bit into a general (and maybe even gender neutral) term for someone cool you should try to emulate.

Then you have terms like "cuck" getting mainstreamed. That's a word that just DID NOT EXIST in the popular consciousness until about a decade ago. It was a thing previously, but only in specialized porn circles. It's short of "cuckold," this odd antiquated term, where you have this specific scenario where some white guy walks in on his wife or girlfriend having sex with a particularly physically impressive black man, and just kind of blubbers impotently as she brags about how impressive the new guy is. I assume it caught on with the general public because ha ha, the nazis are identifying with this loser in this obscure porn fetish. Meanwhile for the nazis this is total propaganda for all their garbage about "the great replacement theory" and general threat posed by black men and the concept of women being property to be defended and all that crap, and like... that's just inherently what the concept is here? You can't deploy "cuck" as an insult without at least SOME buy-in to, at the very least, some of that idea of women showing any sort of sexual interest in other people is a sign of failure on behalf of some guy who on at leas some level owns them and needs to defend their property from others and that's just a really messed up world view to enforce? Particularly when you're doing so as an alternative to just calling some pathetic loser a pathetic loser, or any number of other things that get that same point across.

Worse than that though? Cringe. To cringe is to physically recoil in instinctive disgust as an involuntary reaction to something profoundly terrifying or unpleasant. Like opening the door to a closet and having a wall of maggots suddenly collapse down from behind it or something. Fascists love to use this to describe the various sorts of human beings they intensely dislike and want to exterminate. "I can't articulate just what it is about just seeing this queer person existing in public that makes me shudder in revulsion, and that's cool because I love not thinking about my reactions and just acting on them" basically. And when someone who isn't a fascist refers to someone or something as "cringe" they... also mean it in exactly that fashion. The whole concept behind turning the word into an adjective like this is to externalize personal feelings of disgust and turn them into some objective flaw in the source, rather than analyze why you feel that way. It's really just not a concept you should have ANY term for, let alone this specific one. Like it's fine to be disgusted by someone, but you should always be able to clearly articulate why you feel that way. Like, say, "ugh, look at these disgusting losers who set up a whole message board just to stalk a bunch of random queer people. Could you ever imagine having such an inability to find joy in anything that that would seem like the best way to spend your time?" That's totally fine. But if you're ever in a situation where you're disgusted by someone and can't put a finger on why? There's some chance you're being groomed into irrationally hating people over some signifier they're a member of a group hate groups want wiped out. So you know, maybe strongly consider just dropping that one from your vocabulary?

Or how about the real big obvious one, "woke?" I feel like out of all of these, this is the one people are most likely to toss around without really thinking about what it actually means. So history lesson! Back in 2014 there was this absolutely horrific incident where a cop absolutely brutally murdered a child who was walking down the street in Ferguson, Missouri. Shot him six times, in front of a good number of witnesses. When questioned on it spouted off some absolutely WILD BS about him having superpowers, being a demon, and "bulking up" when shot. These are actual quotes, I want to be clear. Not only did he face no actual repercussions for this, he wasn't even charged with a crime, and there was a rather profoundly large number of people in law enforcement lining up to back up this murderer's story that he absolutely had to completely unload his gun into an unarmed child with hands over his head in the head to keep him from using his demonic super strength to tear him limb from limb.

Being such an astonishingly clear cut example of... this thing that cops are constantly doing to black children all over the country and all, there was a good deal of press coverage and protesting over this, and for a VERY brief period, maybe a month or two? People who were on the scene being terrorized by shockingly militarized police while they tried to hold candlelight vigils for this murdered child were referring to themselves as "woke." As in "this incident woke me up to the fact that racist cops really do have complete institutional protection any time they feel like straight up murdering an innocent child like this." Right wing monsters didn't quite immediately co-opt the term. There was a bit of workshopping from the more media savvy/TV show hosting far right types, particularly this whole embarrassing effort to try and make "black lives matter" sound in some way threatening, before they eventually settled on making "woke" into this slur that definitely and specifically does refer to "anyone who objects to police being allowed to murder innocent black children without fear of consequence" but is obfuscated enough to have some plausible deniability.

Now, I'll admit there may have been a bit of linguistic drift amongst the far right with the specific definition of the term. The edges may have blurred some on who it can be applied to, since we are talking about a crowd who relies pretty heavily on growth through emotional appeal, frowns on self-reflection, flattens terminology, and really prefer vague blanket catch-alls to targeting specific minorities because it's just easier that way. The spirit behind it has never changed at all though. It's still a declaration of seething hate and a demand for a general social status quo where it's basically OK for state agents to murder the sort of people they consider to be undesirable.

How about the usage of the term amongst people who aren't complete monsters? Well, the people who were originally self-describing themselves as "woke" stopped using it pretty damn quick, I think around the second time one of them was found with a fatal bullet wound in his chest, in his car, which was set on fire. As in more than one person protesting the whole police murdering innocent people deal was murdered in this specific ritualistic way. Serious stuff went down in Ferguson and we really should talk about it more. Then though, more recently, there are a hell of a lot of people you would maybe think should know much better who are... also tossing the word "woke" around in a sneering slur-adjacent fashion? Sometimes it's in this vague mocking contempt sort of way like "ooh, I guess this movie that just came out is 'woke' right, because there's a black woman as a major character?" Maybe more often though it's in some context of throwing people under the bus? Like, "hey, I consider myself left wing, but I'm not part of that woke crowd!" Which, you know, that's just a whole category of crap people say that should raise a red flag that they're trying to talk fascists into considering them good people before we even get into how you're actually saying you're OK with cops murdering innocent children. Again, I'm not saying you HAVE to immediately completely drop this term from your personal vocabulary, but, you know, I'd really appreciate it if you put some thought into it and whether there's a good reason you shouldn't?

For that matter, it's worth a bit of examination on how the hell this is even an issue in the first place? Like, how do people who aren't just the absolute worst pieces of human garbage constantly getting into a positon where they're talking like creeps making posts on obscure insular hate sites a decade ago? I'm pretty confident guessing it more or less always starts off with some sort of attempt at mockery. Maybe a few instances of trying to talk to people on their own level. And this all almost certainly comes from some kind of weird elitist viewpoint where people end up thinking far right monsters talk the way they do because they're stupid, unlike them, sophisticated well-educated people with refined sensibilities and a snappy sense of humor and wordplay or something.

Now... I'm not going to say that hardcore nazis AREN'T breath-takingly stupid. You have to be a pathetic loser with an extreme inferiority complex to sign up, and once you do you marinate in an echo chamber of propaganda slogans and extremely discouraged from ever taking time to really think about what you're doing or questioning anything you're told and all. That's going to dull your wit quite a bit. But here's the thing. Let's picture someone who just sits in a little shack somewhere who never talks to anyone, never reads, never thinks about anything of any sort to any degree except for forging axe-heads. He's got a forge in there, he was trained in how to do this one specific thing, it's the only thing he does, and he does it all day every day. Odds are pretty good you could beat this guy handily at any sort of battle of wits, trivia contest, philosophical discussion on the nature of humanity, etc. But I think we could all agree that it would be incredibly stupid of you to assume you could forge a better axe than this guy.

Fascists are like this, but instead of forging axe heads, the one thing they do at the expense of everything else is normalizing extreme bigotry. You're not going to beat them at the game of screwing with norms and language usage. You're not going to "own" them by using the terminology they use. You're going to internalize that hateful crap to SOME degree and poison your own thinking with it. Don't ever let them define any terms or otherwise control a conversation. Don't ever assume out of hand you have a shared understanding of what words mean with them. Really try to avoid ever speaking to them at all.

And hey, if you do make it a point like I do of being actively mindful to never use the same vocabulary as fascist pieces of garbage, and get into it with people around you who do, aside from everything else it makes it damn near impossible for any sort of cryptofascists to get a foothold trying to recruit you or mess with you (by which I mean nazis trying to hide that they're nazis not nazis trying to get you into NFTs or whatever but honestly WOW is there a lot of overlap).

All of this being said of course, I again remind you, hey, don't turn into some weird purity purging creep policing people's language. This isn't exactly an adjacent concept to what I'm talking about here. There's a pretty wide gulf. But just in case, I'm emphasizing it here. I've seen people do weird witch hunts over things like someone praising a fictional character as a good representation of someone on the autism spectrum or whatever and not liking the specific language they used to do so. Or like, hell, do I need to get into a whole sidetrack about the big campaign from TERFs to try and convince people that the word queer is a slur and try to ban queer people off sites like this one here for using it? Yeah don't have any part in that sort of crap. Just try to personally not parrot crap fascists say is all I'm getting at here.

[yuukei-yikes]

kind of a specific random question but do you think theres a possibility that shintaros the first one to try and stop being so attached to takane. like one day takane is all haha hey do you need me for anything then shin goes well uhhh- actually no its okay. takane goes what no you arent let me help you with something COME ON

ive drawn this before. so yes i do (from here)

YA i totally think it's like this AT FIRST. takane is totally shamelessly clinging to shintaro and shintaro's like GET. OFF. MEEEE!!!!! and takane's in his room like carpet she's a fucking parasite roach infestation of 1.

like immediate post str i picture this bitch just sleeping over every single day stealing all his clothes and shintaro's like COME ON. i love how in the novels shintaro dresses in front of ene and no one gives a shit in fact ene is like YOU LOOK SO HANDSOME UR SUCH A MAN'S MAN like. when takane has her body back shintaro's like at least get out WHILE I GET DRESSED!! and takane's totally unbothered like whaaaa im not even looking and u never seemed to care to dress in front of me as ene whatever dude. shintaro seething. he's like this sucks she's right ive been getting dressed in front of her the whole time. also takane changes his nasty bed sheets bc she also sleeps in his bed. literally existing symbiotically. srry they're so close and have no privacy i need u to understand.

shintaro acts incredibly grumpy about it and is actively kicking her out daily but takane never seems to get mad at all and if anything she's just pathetically begging him to stayyyy pleaseeeeee u must need me for SOMETHINGGGGGG and shintaro. while yes he is like NO GET OUT also come on. he's so weak if someone especially someone girl coded flutters their eyelashes at him he immediately just goes YEAH ALRIGHT...haruka ayano or takane can all just flutter their eyelashes and shintaro will do anything they say its hilarious.

we've seen ene do this and while shintaro manages to stay strong i think post str he's very weak to takane because he's so guilty over route xxx so sometimes he just gives her whatever she wants out of guilt. like retaining is shintaro's big demise if it wasn't for it maybe he would've been able to just set his foot down and force takane to grow out of her unhealthy attachment.

but noooo... he starts enabling/reciprocating her behavior LOL!!!! like it's indeed takane the one to start the dynamic. she's always been the most attached of the 2. but shintaro is so guilty over the bad route and realises she's always been here even in all other routes. by just saying ugh yes whatever at everything she says he is accidentally becoming part of the unhealthy attachment. i think at first while he WAS attached it wasn't to the point takane drives it. and since she was shameless and pathetic abt it like not hiding it at all that's why he's unconscious it goes both ways bc he's like well ive been acting all grumpy abt it obviously its not me its her!!! but he doesn't realise that as time went on he started liking the dynamic bc its comfy LOL and takane is good company and they love each other ok. hold me im gonna pass out.

this is so early on post str. while takane still struggles with stopping resorting to opening eyes whenever anything gets uncomfortable and while shintaro is still sort of processing all timelines and how he feels about them and stuff. u know me i love flipping dynamics thats why eventually its shintaro following takane while she's like ermmm erm ermmm bc she's been healing while shintaro's been going downhill.

ALSO i think shintaro's mom "knew" of ene. like SHE DOESNT but shintaro was constantly talking to himself in his room so she asks if he's calling with anyone?? shintaro's like ERM...ERMM... YEAH... ITS AN ONLINE FRIEND.... so shintaro's mom is like omg this is THAT friend who was with him while he was all depressed in his room!!! so ratio + shintaro's mom loves takane and since she's always staying over keeps asking if they're dating and is very confused that they say no and neither is EVER flustered they're just like no we aren't 😐 also if shinaya are dating and kisaragi mom knows she probably talks to shintaro like Hey isnt this weird u have a gf and u seem to spend most of ur time with someone else. and shintaro's like UGHHHHH STOPPP ANNOYING MEEE!!! and like momo, kisaragi mom is also sorta scared of approaching shintaro in fear of scaring him away now that he's out and about. so she's like erm okay (still watches from afar)

sorry for going crazy abt shintaro & takane again. they drive me so crazies. they love each other ur honor and its so fucked up

[fireflylitsky]

F

And If I can have more than one 👉👈

L

AHH TY FOR THE ASK PRINCESS (Sorry for delay I needed to wait for AO3 to come back up and have time to pick out a snippet for F)

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

Okay, this was stupid hard to pick because once you read your own stuff with this question in mind, literally everything sounds like garbage 😂 So I just went with something recent people seemed to enjoy. (For context: KisaSaku, Canon divergent, Yokai infested post-apocalyptic AU set about a decade out from early Shippuden. Shameless use of one tent and shared body heat tropes.)

With a tired sigh and a shiver, Sakura had begun to absently nod before looking at him with a sudden halt. Her eyes traveled up his barely clothed body, over to the tent, and back. “You’re not going to put on clothes?” she asked. An adorably genuine, but very silly question. “Not even a shirt?”

His brows raised in clear amusement. “You’re wearing it, Kunoichi.”

She rolled her eyes. “I assumed you had another.”

“Oh, I do,” he said, looking highly entertained. “But it got all nasty because someone decided to punch me into the mud.”

Sakura choked on a snort.

“Yeah. Welcome to the consequences to your own actions,” he said with a flourishing, if not arrogant gesture to himself. 

She sighed. As far as consequences went, she’d definitely dealt with worse… not that she’d tell him that. “Fine. Let’s just go to bed,” she said, kicking off her shoes and ducking into the gloom of the tent.

“Fine by me.”

“Kubikirbocho can cuddle with Samehada if she doesn’t mind,” Sakura muttered, already stuffing her sword next to Kisame’s.

“She’s probably cool with it. We’ll find out if not.”

Sakura looked up at him with a weary smile. “What’s she gonna do, eat it?”

He smiled back with a shrug. “Maybe.”

“Ah. Well,” Sakura sighed, shoving her pack into the corner by her head. “Samehada will have a very iron rich diet then.”

“Hey, not bad, Kunoichi,” Kisame pushed his jaw out with an approving nod. “Freezing to death and she’s still got jokes.”

“Yeah,” she yawned, flopping onto her back and rubbing her eyes. “Thanks, I’ll be here all night.”

“Great,” he said, nudging her side with his foot, “now scooch.”

“No. Crawl over me. I want to sleep by the flap.”

“Why, so you can get snatched up by another yokai with the hots for you?”

“I was hardly snatched,” she sneered up at him, most of its impact lost in the darkness.

“It wanted to snatch you,” he asserted, looking down his nose at her like he was some sort of authority on snatching . “You were very snatchable. Snackable even. Neither of which would have been the case if you’d just listened to me from the start.”

She snorted. She didn’t mean to. She really wasn’t in the habit of encouraging him, but that was kind of funny. “I was not snackable,” she grumbled, pulling the blanket up and sighing deeply at the warmth of it.

“You were. I saw the way it was drooling all over you.”

"Oh, gross, stop.” Sakura pretended to gag, curling in on herself and tugging the blanket over her head entirely. “Don't remind me."

Kisame chuckled, “You were like a steamed bun to that bitch.”

"You're just jealous she picked me over you."

"Pfft, no way. You were just an appetizer. She knew who the main dish was."

“Good lord… would you just get in here please?” Sakura flipped the blanket off her in a huff to stare up at him very seriously. “I’m freezing to death, if you’ll recall.”

“Oh, so now you just want to use me for my warmth,” Kisame feigned offense terribly, not even dropping his grin. “I see how it is.”

“That was the plan–your plan–yes.”

“Oh, well if it was my plan then it’s probably a good one.” He promptly tucked inside, awkwardly fumbling over her as he kicked his muddy shoes off. His presence instantly tested the limits of the two person capacity.

As far as tests went, the tent failed.

“Kisame,” Sakura wheezed, squishing against the edge of the tent. “You are large.”

He had a joke for that but opted out. Low hanging fruit and all. He needed to up his game.

“I’m also warm. Get over here, Kunoichi,” he grunted as he rolled onto his side. Freeing up some space, he used it to reach out and loop an arm around her stomach. He tugged her back against him. Curled around her like a shrimp.

Sakura let out a startled squeak, launching into a fit of dissent. “Oh my god , what do you think you’re… what do you…” she found herself stalling, petering out as her base survival instincts began to override her pride. “Oh my god ,” she sighed, lids fluttering as Kisame wrapped the blanket around both of them with a chuckle. “You’re like a human boiler.”

"Human," he echoed, "that's mighty high praise coming from you."

“How are you so warm?” Her fight had all but died and had a eulogy.

Here lies Haruno Sakura’s dignity, backbone and fighting spirit. They were nice while they lasted. She’s warm now though, so that’s something. If it’s any consolation, she will surely regret her decisions later. Something something, it's all very sad, may they rest in peace.

“We’re not sleeping like this,” she decided aloud. Like that would counteract the way she’d shoved her face into his bicep. She was currently using it as a pillow, by the way. Her nose burned cold against him. "This is just until I can feel my limbs again."

“Sure, Kunoichi,” he chuckled, settling in.

A breath scraped out of her throat. “Can you not say it like you’re placating me?"

"Sure, Kunoichi,” he repeated in a mockery of deadly seriousness.

“You’re an ass."

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

More than I care to admit 🙃 the scenes should be better, given the amount of revision tbh. I'd say 5-10 times on average for any given chapter. I'll do separate read throughs with each character's focus in mind, make sure I'm not missing anything. It's a tedious process that I love (this sounds sarcastic. It's not. I actually love editing and much prefer it to writing.)

[titisorriso]

Chapter 8/ The Steel Island (Wild Skies AU)

  So, things weren't going well.

 The south was officially at war with Berk. The north was also trying to get a piece of that viking action, claiming there were "precious metals" in the arquipelago. Razorwhips were disappearing sporadically, and the Wing Maidens were blaming it on Berk. Heather had finally gotten fed up with Hiccup and allied herself with Dagur to strike the dragon hunters more violently. Alvin was losing control of his turf, the Outcasts aching for a fight, and to top it all off, Valka was also considering joining Dagur in this crusade.

  To sum it up, the arquipelago was at war, and Hiccup had a broken heart. Sure, one of those was infinitely more important than the other, but still, he was not really in the "Let's be kind to each other!" mood. He was done with diplomacy, but he was also done fighting, and this tangle of strings that he found himself in felt hopeless.

 Blind dragons, huge dragons, green ooze, machinery and metallurgy he had never seen before, the dragon hunters getting bolder; everything felt like a puzzle with no final piece.

  He threw his pencil on the table, stretching against his chair with an annoyed grunt. He stole a look at Toothless.

 - ... You wouldn't happen to have an eye-opening, crucial bit of information, would you?

The dragon looked at him confused, misunderstanding the attention as an invitation to play. Quickly, the dragon pounced his friend, licking his face as the man laughed and pushed the beast away.

 - Okay, okay! I get it! Not the political sort! Here, catch!

He took off his leg, throwing it towards the outside, the dragon flying out the open door.

Hiccup sat himself again. A smile still lingering on his lips until he looked at a necklace on the wall. The betrothal necklace almost taunted him.

A sigh echoed the empty, peaceful cabin. Astrid was all that occupied his mind. He, the silent protector, the dragon rescuer, a guy that unified so many islands and tribes, now reduced to a babbling mess that couldn't even convince a girl that he loves her.

  He got up, leaning against his chair. Staring around his hut, trying to clear his mind, only to be reminded that this place was infested with memories of her as well.

  The bed, the beam she punched, the displaced floorboards that once hid her axe, the fish waiting to be cooked, the sound of her feet pacing the cabin while regaining her strength.

Flustered, his entire body reacted to the embarrassment of longing for someone that utterly rejected him; but he couldn't help it. She was gorgeous, exciting, fierce and smart. She was the perfect viking, more of a viking than he ever even thought of being, and that came back to the root of the problem.

Astrid killed dragons. She killed one just three days ago right where he could see. Sure, he was spying on her, but it was still jarring, gut-wrenching.

Toothless came back, Hiccup's leg slobbered and a bit chewed, but still usable.

 - Awn, bud, c'mon!... It's so nasty...

Toothless growled in joy, doing his unique, and a bit concerning, laugh. Snapping his leg back into place, he started petting the dragon, who affectionally hugged him.  

- You know, bud, Astrid doesn't seem to have a problem with you anymore. She didn't even acknowledge you.

Hiccup remembered their first "meeting". Her blatant fear and distrust of the beast, the side-eyes and murderous glances, but all of that was before she found out who he was. That seemed to be ages ago, a time where Hiccup's sole worry was if Astrid's wounds were healing well.

A nudge from Toothless snapped him out of it.

- It's alright. I'm not going into my "no eat, no sleep" phase again. Don't worry about me.

Reminiscing on the past reminded him of the dragon hunters that day. The flames, all the screaming, the unusual timing on their appearance. It was a huge coincidence, the same moment Hiccup was moving a herd of Terrible Terrors down east, a Berk scouting ship appeared and started shooting towards an unfamiliar vessel, flying no colors on their sails. Hiccup remembered the ballista made of complete steel, the fully armored and trained soldiers that seemed resistant to the dragon's fire. They scared him, a lot of them getting too close for comfort, some actually managing to hit Toothless.

- Never saw them again...

Hiccup stared at his friend:

- How possible is it that they were the only ones, and we'll never see them again? Is it too much wishful thinking?

Toothless growled.

- Yeah, that's a given.

He started the process of saddling up his friend, preparing a bag for a relatively long trip. If those hunters were going west when they ran in with the Hooligans, then that's where he needed to go.

The sea was never-ending.  In multiple moments, Hiccup had traveled this way, looking for something interesting, but relenting apparently way too soon. Instead of turning back once he reached a particularly desert island, he continued towards the horizon.

- Hey, since you can fly, at least we won't fall off the world, huh?

The beast answered by spinning on the air in excitement. Both relishing in the opportunity to fly just like old times. Once they reached the edge of the familiar place, Hiccup started counting the seconds, mentally marking the distance as they kept on route.

It didn't take long for something weird to happen.

They watched as the blue ocean slowly turned a sickly green, a smell that they could only describe as burnt rotted flesh making them flinch. Hiccup put his helmet and mask on, the stench quickly turning unbearable.

- Are you alright with this, bud?

The dragon replied shortly, as if saying "i'm okay". That made the rider feel comfortable in speeding up. The clouds, once white, turned grey, and then took a similar green to the water. Even through his mask, the rider felt his eyes water with the smell.

- Dear Thor, i haven't smelled something so awful since Dagur's spit roast.

Toothless whined, Hiccup petting his side as he reassured:

- Don't worry, bud. We'll just see the source of this and then leave.

Hiccup noticed the waters were vile enough that nothing could be seen moving inside them. He wondered if the creatures that were once here would be able to find a new home, or if there even was a possibility that they escaped this rot.

- Who did this?

He whispered to himself. This was exactly like the green ooze back in Broken Helm Island, but in way bigger quantity and more viscous than anything.

- Get closer to the water, bud. I want to take a sample home.

He pulled a small glass vial from his bag, quickly getting what he needed and pulling Toothless away from the water immediately. Some of it had gotten on his gloved fingers, he observed as, like acid, the fabric was eaten and then stopped.

Several dragons appeared in his mind as he observed the reaction, but the obvious one took the main stage. This was a Sliquifier's acid. But how? How did it get so spread? How many would it take to infect the whole ocean? Could it be only floating on the surface? But what about the clouds?

As if to answer all his questions, Toothless groaned, snapping him out of his investigative state.

There was the source.

It was like a vision of Helheim. The green mist and clouds erupting from the metal construction on the middle of the island, holes of fire and explosions burst inside of it as metal houses spread all around its shore. A metal wall, with fire erupting from the main beams kept the "village" isolated. On the water, packs and packs of ships sailing purple colors were slowly boarded and equipped with guns.

- Eir's sweet embrace, what is that?...

Toothless stared, his eyes going thin as he sensed danger. The rider was about to ask what was wrong, when from the water, a huge mouth flew towards them. Hiccup startled, opening Toothless's tail fin too wide and almost falling inside the beast, but quickly fixing his mistake as he took one of his personal "dragon knocking" concoctions from his bag and threw it down the beast's throat. The rider instructed his friend to fly up, but as soon as Toothless smelled the inside of those toxic clouds, the dragon started shaking and flailing around. The unknown dragon disappeared inside the waves once more, Hiccup assuming his potion worked, but too busy to celebrate.

Toothless roared and flailed, Hiccup’s keen sense of direction and control being the one thing keeping them in the air.

- GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF, BUD!!

The dragon turned his stomach towards the sky, Hiccup only not falling thanks to the security leash chained to the saddle. The rider heard the characteristic high-pitched noise, and soon, Toothless shot towards the sky.

The clouds ignited in flames, the explosion hitting Toothless in the stomach and burning his tail fin, the shock throwing him towards the water and taking Hiccup with him, the man trapped beneath the beast.

They hit the water.

Instantly, Hiccup felt his clothes getting eaten by the liquid, the parts of his skin that were exposed turning red. The rider forced his eyes closed; he could deal with rashes if this truly was a Sliquifier's toxin, but becoming blind wasn't on his bucket list. Toothless's weight still dragged him down, the man unable to find the leash that kept him chained on since the panic clouded his senses. The toxins were really starting to sting as they found ways inside his armor.

Was this it? This is how he was going to die? If this was it, he deserved it.

So many people he left behind, so many friends he turned away, so much help refused, it was obvious this would one day happen. The only thing that weighed in his mind was that he took Toothless down too. The last of the Night Furies would die and it would be his fault. He was careless, he should have turned back as soon as the water looked weird. He should have let this go and just let everyone fight each other, at least then Toothless wouldn't have to die.

He should have let Astrid tell everyone... But why did it always have to be Astrid?

Why did he always need to have someone doing what was truly difficult for him? Why would he ask that of her when she already had so much on her plate?

"Because i don't want her to forget me." His own wavering heart answered.

His mind was blurry, the darkness behind his closed eyes scared him. He felt Toothless start reacting and moving, thinking the dragon was okay, that he would fly away, and they would be fine.

The net that caught them pulled them up, a hard, scaley floor hitting Hiccup as he felt the dirty air hit against his face, taking a deep breath and snapping his eyes open as he forcefully pulled off the mask and helm. He coughed with the deep breath of the toxic air without the mask; noticing his leash had finally snapped, and that Toothless laid beside him, passed out, but breathing. Relieved, he touched a hand to his friend's back.

- Well, that's a unique catch!

Hiccup recognized that voice, turning to assess the full situation.

They were in the back of a titan wing Sliquifier, the gold hue of his scales and the glowing wings giving it away. In front of him, stood Johann, the man he saw getting kicked out of Berk, the leader of the dragon hunters of the south. He was unable to hide his scowl as Johann smiled triumphant.

- The lost heir of Berk, standing helpless and at my mercy. I wonder what i did to receive such gift!... I'm kidding, this wasn't a gift! I planned this very carefully and you fell for it!

The dragon hunter approached Hiccup, who tried to jump forward, only to notice his body was now frozen. Johann kicked the man in the chest, the rider falling limp against Toothless as he breathed rapidly and panicked.

- Did you like my creation? A little Flightmare's toxin mixed with Sliquifier's acid... It lasts twice as long and hurts thrice as much. Oh, what am i saying, you can't answer me!

Hiccup let out a weak grunt, the burning of his skin making his panic heighten. Johann did not care, living in his own, twisted world, he kept his little victory gloat going, signaling to two other dragon hunters to tie Hiccup and Toothless up, one of them removing the rider's metal leg.

- Now, now, i would love to regale you with my tale of greatness all day until the poison runs out, but the plan is not quite finished yet. Afterall, you pesky brat, you are merely bait.

Hiccup knew what he was talking about, Astrid's name popping in loud letters in his fuzzy brain, he couldn't let it happen.

- So, Hiccup Haddock... This is the moment you go to sleep.

A strong hit against his head, and everything went dark.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Okay, so while i was editing i realized that this chapter was REALLY long, so i decided to shorten it by putting this part separetely and making it a cliffhanger. Hope you enjoyed!

[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

From the Beyond & Between Bestiary: Sea Shroud

Stayed home from work with a fever and sore throat last night. So, I imagined a terrifying, otherworldly creature to make myself feel better.

Words: 553

Content: Creature horror, mind control, threat of drowning/being eaten, brief description of dead bodies

It floated just beneath the surface, tablecloth-white in contrast to the black water. Celina put it at several inches longer than herself maybe, and about as wide as her elbows if she stuck her arms out to the side. A slight dip ran up its middle like the midrib of a leaf. Lacy fringes lined its edges all around, rippling and swaying in the current.

“What is it?” Her voice rode out on a hushed breath, but Fisher heard.

“Not sure what the scientific classification is. My guess is some type of slug or jelly. Had an ancestor that got swept in from Earth or Arasind maybe. Wound up closed off underground along with the rest of the sea, and evolution kept marching on.”

There were swirls of ethereal blue just under the thing’s skin. Celina could make them out if she focused. She’d never cared much for the slugs and other creepy-crawlies infesting her garden and the collective’s farmland back home. But those hadn’t glowed like a patch of moonlight. They weren’t smooth and graceful. She bet if she ran her hand along this creature’s skin it wouldn’t be nasty or slimy or sticky. No. No, it’d be silky, with the spring of muscle beneath.

Kneeling at the edge of the dock, she reached out. Her splayed hand still came about a foot short of the waving (teasing) frills. The saltwater leeched the sensation from her fingers immediately. Touching the creature would warm her right back up, though. Even if she dove into the ancient, buried ocean this benevolent thing would shield her. Wrap around her from head to toe like one of her nana’s handwoven blankets. She’d shut her weary eyes, and delicate tendrils would pet her hair and face while she dreamed of sunlight, stars, green grass—everything she’d left behind to chase her stupid baby brother down in this dark, dreary world.

An arm hooked under one of hers just when she started to tip over. Celina cried out, a longing hand still reaching for the water, as Fisher dragged her away from the dock’s edge. Shrieked again at the sight of the mind worm’s raised harpoon. With a deft flip, they thrust the weapon’s blunt end into the glimmering creature.

Her heart seized at the thought of seeing its blood (silver, it would be a flashing silver) spreading over the surface. Chills wracked Celina at what it showed her instead. The creature snapped shut like a sprung Venus fly trap, sending up a spray. Rather than winging off, it reared and slithered, revealing the rest of the body that had been coiled beneath. And in its clutches, dozens of other creatures, some finned, many more people-shaped, bloated, decaying, all embraced by moonlight-pale flesh, snug as bugs in a rug.

Fisher didn’t need to hold her back anymore. She scuttled away on her own two hands and feet.

“Wha…whadid…” she panted.

“As I was saying before you got yourself hypnotized, it’s some sort of beastie that went native. What it’s called depends on who you ask, but one name I’ve heard a lot is the sea shroud.” Fisher shrugged and rested the harpoon on their shoulder. “Heard a human use ‘death doily’ once too, but it didn’t catch on. Not every idea can be a winner.”

Beyond & Between Masterpost

Worldbuilding Masterpost

Beyond & Between Taglist: @thecyrulik @theimperiumchronicles

[silverspleen]

I have an OC question that I'm asking here because why not: Does Jake work out? and if he does, does it like.... DO anything? can he still build muscle?

Ok BIG longpost answer because I have thoughts about this.

Yes! Jake does work out, but No. He can't build any more muscle.

I always imagine that while behaviorally he's a zombie, physically he works more like an immortal. Something happened to him where his body basically became programmed to actively always keep him at the same(ish) state he was in when he died, so basically a fit twenty-something guy with the injuries sustained when he died (the ear nick, no nose, and rib gouge hole).

Like Jack Harkness powered by magical biology and not time magic, or Wolverine but a cannibal.

But also he is very much still physically dead.

He can technically regrow limbs and dead tissue as long as he eats ethically sourced human jerky and meat smoothies and gets some sort of liquid, but it's far easier to just slap the old limb on and everything will grow back together since his body wants to be that way. Idk about the teeth and nasty nails, think those are postmortem weird magic biology things to maim and dig with better.

He's super uncanny strong because he's doing the "humans can use adrenaline to life a car" thing unconsciously a lot so it doesn't matter if he tears his muscles or ligaments because his body will just heal since it's programmed to.

The problem with actively destroying your body all the time is that he needs lots of fuel to fix all the damage existing is doing to him, hence his brain constantly in overdrive to kill and eat things. It's mostly suppressed by his personality until he triggers, or starves or gets massive damage done to him. He could survive significant trauma to his brain as long as his spine was mostly ok, he would just be a classic completely stupid slow zombie husk.

Same would go if you starved him, he'd eventually get nasty and physically damaged because parts would dry up and twist wrong and not heal as well and he'd go feral crazy because his body would be in overdrive to eat as much as possible as quickly as possible. That's also why he's afraid of bugs, they could infest him and he would literally just be eaten forever, since he could "heal" the dead tissue but it would still be dead so bugs would still eat it and he'd basally have an infestation. Bad-end feral zombie Jake would just be constantly full of maggots, eating people to heal himself but not have enough intelligence to find a way to get rid of the problem of maggots eating him in the first place, so it would just be a cycle of consumption as he shambles around forever eating and being eaten.

Jake mostly works out because he likes to, it's a holdover from being alive as exercise = happy and fit, a true jock motto, but mechanically it is getting nutrients out to his dead tissue quicker, so it actually does help heal him a little faster. Behaviorally since his brain is set to "fast zombie" it also helps him get out energy, like a big dog. Couch potato Jake would be more likely to attack people since he'd have pent up "RUN RUN KILL CONSUME" energy. Right now he's only triggered into being feral by fresh meat and obvious "prey" behavior (running away from him while screaming).

Him being a not-quite-conventional zombie is how I justify him not turning people when he bites them. I feel like the bootleg BPRD would never let him loose if he could just zombify people willy nilly, I think his thing is just a Him thing and he's proven that he is so responsible with not eating people that they let him go to Ska concerts as long as he has a handler and a fake nose and doesn't show anyone his weird rib hole for snacks.

[avengerchuck]

Teddy Ruxpin looks racist ngl

Typically I would just delete such an obvious bait ask- one that is so clearly trying to get a rise out of me. A negative response is precisely what people like you are after. As such, I shouldn’t bother. However... I fear you have underestimated my autism buff in this scenario. Providing me with any sort of excuse to talk about my favorite relatively obscure special interest was your first mistake.

For my normal followers:

Here’s a fun fact for you! Have you ever stopped to ask yourself what the hell Tweeg is, species wise? Don’t worry. You’ll see how this ties back to the ask as we go on. Teddy himself is an illiop, a bear-like creature typically native to Rillonia, the fantasy continent right off the coast of Grundo, the considerably larger fantasy continent the bulk of the series takes place in. Grubby is an octopede, sort of like a human-sized centipede thing with eight legs, which I’m sure you could gather by looking at him. Gimmick is a perloon, a human-like species. Prince Arin and Princess Aruzia are illipers. Wooly is a snowzo. Leota is a woodsprite. LB is a bounder. The list goes on and on, the lore in this series gets crazy intricate. Anyways! That being said!

Take a good look at this guy. He’s... unique, that’s for sure... he doesn’t resemble any Earth animal or pre-existing fantasy creature like most of the other characters.There is one prominent Teddy Ruxpin species that I’ve left out of my less-than-brief overview...Grunges. They’re these cute little humanoid creatures with weird snouts and antennae. There are two groups of these guys, the land grunges and the surf grunges, with the surf grunges being the object of interest in answering this question. The question I raised about Tweeg, that is. Not the race-bait thing.

Here is a prime example of a surf grunge: Elroy.

They say he was the greatest surfer who ever lived. And- considering how culture oriented the grunges are- this is more than a big deal. This guy is the Babe Ruth of the Teddy Ruxpin franchise. The sweetest guy you’ll ever meet. Wicked talented. The whole thing. Elroy is a legend.

You may be asking yourself why I’m talking about Elroy as if he’s dead or something.

See, Elroy was apparently a charmer. I doubt it was difficult for him to find love. For some reason, however, he settled with this troll (in a fantasy sense) woman named Eleanor. The peak of evil. So nasty (in a personality sense) that even spiders and rats wouldn’t infest her home. No one is one hundred percent sure on what happened to him, even when the grunges bring this story to Teddy and the gang’s attention, but the story goes that one day Elroy simply snapped and surfed away. Never to be seen again.

I sense at least two questions.

1. What the fuck does this have to do with Tweeg?

2. What the fuck does this have to do with the original ask?

Number one - I’ve been keeping something from you... The majority of characters in this series have last names or titles at the very least. Characters as notable as this, anyway. Ahem.

Eleanor Tweeg. Wife of Elroy Tweeg. He took her last name, and together they had a baby...Jack W. Tweeg. Newton Gimmick’s neighbor. All-around aspiring villain.

Number two - Y’know what this means?

Tweeg is the ONLY notable character in the series with parents of two different species.

Tweeg is the mixed race baby of an interracial couple... Just like meeeee :o)

[simiansmoke]

@citizensofeggton cont.

His expression is flat at her reminder that he'd gone tunnel vision away from his task at hand, albeit seasoned grumpy with an occasional twist of features thanks to a flurry of small hands occasionally grabbing and pulling at whatever could be grabbed, patted and slapped on his face. Kong children weren't exactly docile...especially not when promised ice cream. "Yeah, weeeell...what kinda warrior would I be if I backed down from every little altercation? I'm not a PACIFIST, oh-kayyy? I'm a pass-a-fist-on kinda dude."

"FIST PASS-" Screamed a child near his lower back. His fur flinching is indicative of the kid's knuckles bopping his spine...plus the chorus of any other rider that wanted to participate in the 'fist pass', which seemed to be a sort of game if not invented and taught to them by DK, then was a Kong staple when it came to playing rough. Either or, a couple of kiddie punches has him shaking himself out slightly afterwards, which gives the kids riding the DK bus a reason to scream in delight because he pulls no punches either and actively tries to wag them off like a dog with wet, flea-infested fur.

The straggler seemed to be having fun regardless of catching the tail, giving a few desperate swats before spinning around in a circle mid-walk and with a dizzy giggle - kept swatting more and more inefficiently the dizzier they got themselves.

"...well for your sake, I hope so. At this age, they could deeeefinitely tear it off." Whether that's true or not, the look on his face is clear that he wants to mess with her. And verbally is the only way now that he's scooping up smaller Kongs that are spilling off him as his walks like water, and sliding them back onto the 'bus' in a motion so practiced it was like he was just fixing his hair as usual. One got away from him and darted ahead to happily bop up at a low-hanging power-up block, managing to hit out a growshroom.

"Kid-don't-!" But it was like trying to convince a starving animal (currently starving for ice cream) to ignore the first food it came across. After biting into the shroom viciously, the runt of the bunch grew...to about a size or two under DK. Nothing major, really-...until she rejoined her peers on his back, which caused him to sink a bit LOW into his knuckles as he crawled forward with a huff and puff. "Y'know...I'm...startin' to think...the power-ups in a vendor is-...the way t'go!" Teeth gritting, he pauses to take a shuddering breath.

"Ugh. Let's just call it charity work. Our uh...education system isn't so solid. But I mean...you can't expect a strong and highly energetic group like us to do well without a little time in the day to collectively lose our minds, sooo ~ I help out where I can. Dad sends a guardsman sometimes too. Those dudes can take all the biting and clawing-"

As the straggler continues their game of catch the tail or spin 25 times in place, they don't seem to notice how close to the edge of the dock they're spinning until they lose one leg over the side and drop, chest and arms slamming against the dockside with while shocked fingers dig in and scratch the wood frantically. The water below might be shallow, but all the colorful coral beds would surely leave anyone taking a walk down there a nasty cut or two.

The movement of the struggle eventually catches the corner of the Kong prince's eye and he quickly forces himself up under the new weight holding him down, prepared to bolt over as soon as he caught his balance so as to not overcalculate a rough rush over that might send them all toppling over the edge in his haste. "Crap!"

[jade-island-lives]

Vent Upcoming

Skip if you don’t want to hear about it or you’re having a good day. 

So, I don’t normally do this nor do I want to make this a habit, but I really  need to talk about some stuff that I normally wouldn’t. But as it has been cutting into my content, I don’t really see a way to not talk about it. 

So, it’s clear I haven’t been writing or posting my own content in awhile. I know this happens to the best of people sometimes, but right not I can’t afford not to write right now. 

Most of you probably know that I moved states almost a year ago. I didn’t want to move, but I had no choice in the matter. Since I’ve gotten here, I’ve been mentally checked out. I try to find happiness in the little things and I still have my friends, but it’s still hard to ignore the intense homesickness I feel every day. I miss my home and the people in it. 

As a result, friendships have become strained and I barely am able to talk to my IRL friends lately. There’s a lot of family stuff I don’t feel comfortable talking about, but it has been having a real negative effect on my mental health. I wake up at 7 AM every day, bury myself in studying and classwork to distract myself, deal with personal issues, and then maybe get chores done. Then I sleep until dinner, eat dinner, then maybe try to do other stuff before I sleep again.

I am tired all of the time. Even if I am doing nothing. I’m worn out, stretched thin to my limit. I need to find a place of my own and move back home, but I don’t have the funds. And I don’t want people to just hand me money because it makes me very uncomfortable, so I have been trying to set up commissions. 

But it seems like lately, I can’t do anything other than schoolwork, chores, and sleep. I am constantly dealing with issues that drain me of what little energy I have in me. I have to escape into my own head sometimes to my own worlds that I used to write in order to feel some sort of peace. 

I haven’t had much to talk about in positive terms. I’m dealing with a nasty ant infestation, I worry about money and relationships constantly, and I never seem to get a break from the never-ending chaos of life. From car problems to injury and illness, I’ve been through it. 

I’m so tired. I’m gonna keep going, but I’m so tired. I don’t really feel present or here. It really hurts to admit this. 

So, I don’t know when or if I’m gonna have something out really. I know my mental health comes first, but my mental health will start to heal once I get back home. For me to do that, I have to write for commissions. I’m not just going to take people’s money without giving something of value back. 

Thank you for listening. I appreciate it more than you know.