#angler city

[sonicranticoot]

Simple art of the girls in matching shirts with their names printed on them since that used to crop up a lot. Working on more OC art! And actually living up to that! (though hopefully in more creative poses eventually.)

[galaxysodapopdraws]

I’m working on putting queen Angelica and king puff from the reboot archie comics in my au! Gonna make them more like their irl fishy counterparts and less like a bratty couple.

And I know it was probably the dark Gaia messing with their and other fish mobians heads making them negative and hostile but I kinda want to keep them a little bit spoiled. Also just saying if they did the thing where female anglerfishes are 60x bigger than their male counterparts and they made puff super small compared to her, I think that’s super cute and want to expand on more fish love stuff.

[texasflycaster]

Fly Fishing Industry News and Trends

I had a surprise post on Instagram a couple of days ago, from the folks at Bayou City Angler (BCA). If you are unfamiliar with the Houston fly fishing store, it has been on my “must visit” list for many years when in the Bayou City. The likes of fly household legends, like Danny Scarborough, worked at the fly shop and over the years, many others have come and gone through the doors. CHAT GPT…

[honourablejester]

I’m realising as I browse around that I really love lore when it comes to ttrpgs, games and game worlds. And by that I don’t mean I like to obsessively learn lists of dates and wars, and the names of leaders of factions, I mean …

I like learning weird, juicy details about the worlds of games. I like finding little nuggets that say things about the set-up and culture and assumptions of the world. I like finding fragments of ideas to hang whole story and character concepts off.

I love that in D&D 5e’s Spelljammer, the Astral Sea is full of the corpses of dead gods that you can fully sail up to in your ship. Just. Floating out there. Waiting for you to rock up to them.

I love that in Sunless Sea, the king of the drowned is the way he is because he fell in love with an eldritch sea urchin from space, and successfully married it. His niece is an angry sentient floating mountain whose mother is a goddess-mountain and whose father is a face-stealing humanoid abomination. This is fine and normal.

I love that in Starfinder, there are mysterious bubble cities in the surface of the sun that the church of the sun goddess discovered and cheerfully occupied despite having no idea who the hell built them or for what purpose.

I love that in Dishonored, the entire industrial revolution that has built the empire we’re in the midst of saving or destroying was built on the properties of whale oil harvested from eldritch tentacled whales that live half in the oceans and half in an eldritch void personified in the form of a weird-ass black-eyed shit-stirrer of a deity who was formed from a murdered and sacrificed child. And this is largely a background detail.

I love in the Elder Scrolls that the dwarves up and fucking vanished, as a race, at some point in history and absolutely nobody has any clue what happened to them or where they went, but their technology is so insane that ideas like ‘they time-travelled’ or ‘they erased themselves from existence’ are absolutely on the table.

I love that in Numenera, so many incredibly advanced civilisations have risen and fallen on this world that it’s absolutely littered with bonkers science fiction artefacts that have caused the current medieval-esque society built over top of them to develop in bizarre ways, and also you can find a mysterious artefact that absolutely baffles and delights your character, but that you the player will fully recognise as a slightly-more-advanced thermos flask.

I love that in Fallout, an irradiated post-nuclear apolocalypic hellscape, there’s a cult that worships the god of radiation as they have come to understand it, and they are mysteriously immune to radiation with absolutely no explanation whatsoever. They’re not ghouls, the usual result of fatally irradiated humans with some resistance, they’re perfectly normal humans who can somehow just tank rads all damn day. It could be a mutation, but Lovecraftian gods apparently do also fully exist in this setting, so it’s also possible that maybe they were on to something with this Atom thing.

I love that in Heart The City Beneath, there’s a mass transit train system that they tried to hook up to the eldritch beating god-thing buried under the city so that they could metaphysically chain the stations together more easily, which went horrifically and metaphysically wrong in entirely predictable fashion, and now there’s a whole order of train-knights who have to keep people safe from the extradimensional weirdness magnet the network has become.

That, and all the fantastic little details you can stumble across. There’s a biotech augmentation in Starfinder called an angler’s light that gives you a little angler-fish bioluminescent antenna on your forehead, and it was developed by asteroid miners who needed light but also both hands free for work. In Dishonored there’s a festival that everyone pretends is outside of time so nothing you do during it can be held against you. There’s a god of snuffed candles mentioned in a single line from Heart The City Beneath who has pacifist cannibal priests, and that is literally all the information you get on him.

While things like the history and geography and timeline of a world do also fascinate me, I’m not really here to memorise stuff like that. I’m here to find weird little nuggets of information and worldbuilding and delight in them. Give me funerary customs and weird myths and oddly specific circumstances and baffling little objects and absolutely bonkers cosmological implications. Give me the corpses of dead gods, and aesthetic movements with highly specific backstories, and bureaucratic fuck-ups of titanic scale, and mysterious things that seem to break all other rules of your setting with absolutely no explanation because people in-universe have no fucking clue how they work either. Why are the Children of Atom immune to radiation without ghoulifying? Not a clue, but Confessor Cromwell has been cheerfully standing in that irradiated pond that kills the player character with about 10 minutes of exposure for the last year and he’s still absolutely fine.

I just. I really love lore. I like my settings to have some meat in them, some juicy details to dig into, some inexplicable elements to have fun trying to explain. Particularly that last bit. I feel like a lot of people when building worlds feel like the rules have to be absolute and everything has to have an explanation, but nah. Putting some weird shit in makes everything immediately feel bigger, more real, because we don’t have even half an idea of how our world truly works, there’s always something we just don’t fully understand yet, and you can put that in a fictional world too. Some mysteries, some contradictions, some randomness, some weirdness. There’s a line, obviously, this depends on execution, but a little bit of mystery really does help.

Lore is awesome. And weird lore is even more so. Heh.

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 12: The Fight (Warning: this chapter will feature blood and violence. Proceed at your own risk)

“Look at all this,” you whisper as you take in the sights of the Strip, all the various casinos and hotels lighting up the night sky. “I returned to Nevada four years ago and I’ve never been here before. What the hell was I thinking?”

(You were trying to set up your new life, which was the responsible thing to do back then. But, we agree, coming here sooner would not have been unwelcome. This city seems to be a source of endless entertainment.)

You had finished the DLC for Salvage Rights earlier today and to celebrate both its release and its positive reception, you decided to treat yourself by going to Sin City and indulging in its various casinos and restaurants; you have the knowledge and experience of countless gamblers from Gotham, so you should be able to play blackjack and poker with the best of them.

You thought you were prepared to handle and glitz and glamor Vegas has to offer, but seeing it with your own eyes has left you speechless. The lights have you mesmerized and you’re loving it! Everywhere you look, there’s something beckoning you, like a moth to a flame and right now, you don’t care if you get burned.

“Hey, look over there,” you say, stopping to look at something above you in the distance.

The sight is a towering building proudly bearing the name “Caesar’s Palace” in lights. During your brief research for your trip to the Strip, you read Caesar’s Palace is one of the most popular casinos in the city and is also a popular destination for dining.

(You did say you wanted the “full Vegas experience.” Going to one of the largest establishments in the city would be a step in the right direction.)

When you first thought of this little excursion, you wanted to have fun, but didn’t want to get trapped in the larger ones and lose all the money you brought in with you, instead opting to stay in the smaller casinos. “Keep it simple, keep it safe,” you said a few hours ago.

Now, the lights of the massive casino before you has ensnared you and is luring you towards it like an angler fish does with its prey.

“Ave, true to Caesar,” you say as you begin the trek towards the towering monolith.

If the outside was mesmerizing, then the inside is absolutely enthralling! As expected of a place named after a Greek emperor, the interior looks like a palace plucked from the Greek Empire, complete with marble and gold, making you feel like royalty.

(We take it we are going to play here?)

“Damn right,” you say as you enter the casino part of the resort, taking in the seemingly endless rows to slot machines, card tables, and other various gambling set ups.

As you look at each slot machine and table, you’re flooded with information from the Megamycete’s archives on what you want to see when playing slot machines and when is the best time to stand when playing blackjack. While Gotham doesn’t have shit on Vegas, it did have a passable gambling scene, which attracted many expert gamblers to that City of the Damned.

With your newfound knowledge in hand, you exchange the thousand bucks you brought with you for chips and make your way to a roulette table with only one other person.

“Good evening, sir,” the dealer greets you as you situate yourself of the other side of the table, away from the other player. “Will you be joining us?”

“Deal me in,” you respond, pushing a few chips on the table to test the waters. You may know the basics from playing Fallout New Vegas, but this is real life with real money being risked and this time you don’t have a maxed out Luck stat to cheat the system with.

A few hands in and you can say for sure you love gambling. Sure, you’ve lost a few rounds, ruining a couple hot streaks, but right now, you have more money than you came in with.

“Fifteen, odd, black,” the dealer says when the ball finally stops spinning before giving you the pot, much to your delight.

“Goddamn it,” the other man exclaims, shoving himself away from the table and storming off, hopefully towards the exit as tonight has not been his night.

“I apologize for that display,” the deal says as he readies the spinner for the next round. “Will you be playing another round?”

“Definitely,” you respond, sliding three-hundred dollars worth of chips onto red.

“Have room for one more,” a masculine voice rings out next to you.

You tense up when the voice registers in your head and you look to your right to see Bruce fucking Wayne, looking down at you with that fake ass smile he gives the idiots of Gotham. Your anger only intensifies when he places a thousand dollars worth of chips into the pot.

What the hell is he doing here?

(How dare he,) the Megamycete practically growls. (This is a night meant for you to enjoy yourself and he intrudes upon it, and in your city no less.)

“Welcome, Mr. Wayne,” the dealer says as he spins the spinner after the bastard places his bet.

“Hello, Y/N,” he says to you, his focus on you and not the spinner. “I have to say, I don’t peg you as the gambling type.”

You say nothing, not wanting to give him any sort of satisfaction, and focus on the game.

“It’s a very dangerous habit if you’re not careful,” he chides you as the baller begins to slow down. “And coming to a place like Vegas? It’s not safe for someone like you. You should be back home, where you belong.”

You know the “home” he’s referring to isn’t your house in Goodsprings, but Wayne Manor in Gotham and it’s taking all your willpower not to pimp smack the shit out of him right now. This was meant to be a night for you to have fun in Vegas and you’re not gonna let him ruin that like he did the night you won your award.

“Gotham has plenty of high-end casinos where you can play all the games you want. I could take you to each of them and make sure you get the VIP treatment.”

“Vegas is far safer than Gotham,” you retort. “Here, the biggest threat you face is losing your money when you don’t know when to quit. In Gotham, you have nut jobs running around killing people on a nightly basis and the biggest nut job of them all beating the crap out of them.” You give him a mocking look, knowing something that would get under his skin. “No one in their right mind would live in that cesspit of a city. If you ask me, that place should be nuked to hell.”

While he manages to hide it well, you can see just the faintest of winces and you let your smirk show. For whatever reason, he thinks Gotham is the best place on the planet and is worth protecting. You learned about Gotham’s seedy history from its early days as a colony established in 1635 and you can say for certain that area is cursed. If you had your way, a giant wall would be built around Gotham and everyone inside would be left to kill each other and rot in that cursed city, especially the Waynes.

“Gotham has its flaws, sure,” he responds. “But I’m able to look past its dark side and see a bright future for both the city and everyone that calls it home. As you know, Wayne Enterprises has been the vanguard of breathing new life into the city.”

“Oh, that reminds me, I heard WE’s stock has practically become worthless in the last few days. Rumor has it all major stockholders are demanding for you to step down as CEO.”

“I’ve been in tight spots before and I’ve always come out on top. This will be no different. I’m sure things will turn back around in no time.”

“Six, even, black,” the dealer announces, bringing you back to the game. “Congratulations, Mister Wayne.”

You roll your eyes as the pot goes to the son of a bitch. You mentally shake your head and place your chips on the table for the next round.

“Maybe you should step down,” you say as the dealer begins the round. “I was stuck in that manor of yours for over a decade and I know it’s a mess. You should really get your house in order before you go around ‘fixing’ Gotham.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my family,” he growls. “It’s perfect the way it is.”

“No one’s buying that story anymore, Mister Wayne. I take it you haven’t read Lois Lane’s latest article?”

“Of course I have,” he says, glaring at you and it makes you want to laugh knowing how you’re testing his limits. “How could you say those things about your family?”

“You’re not my family,” you snap. “You all made it quite clear I wasn’t a part of it over and over. The only family I’ve ever had was Momma and she was taken from me.”

The anger in his eyes fade and he was silent for a moment. “I know we made mistakes during your time with us and we’re sorry about that.”

“It’s too little, too late, Mister Wayne.”

“Twenty-four, even, black,” the dealer states, clearly more interested in your conversation than the game.

You can’t help but smile as the chips make their way back to you and you place a bet of five-hundred for the next round. Of course, Bruce doesn’t go way and instead places another bet.

“Please, Y/N, come home,” he pleads as the spinner is spun. “We all miss you. Especially Alfred.”

“He’s welcome to visit me whenever he wants. The rest of you can go to hell.”

“Like it or not, they’re your siblings, Y/N,” he growls, getting closer to you. “And I’m your father. You will show them, and me, the respect that entails.”

“Respect is earned, not given,” you retort, getting close and looking up at him. He may terrify Gotham’s criminally insane, but you know you’re better than him in every way, so you’re not scared. “And don’t get it mixed up, you’re a sperm donor, not my father. God knows you never acted like it.” You lean close so that your face is mere inches away from his. “If you want, we can take this outside, Mister Wayne. Just remember what happened last time things got physical between us.”

“Now, now, gentlemen,” the dealer says. “Let’s keep this friendly. We’re all here to have fun, right?”

(Listen to him, Y/N. Do not let him ruin your first trip to Vegas. There will be plenty of time to put him in his place after we have had our fun.)

You continue to stare at him and direct all your anger and hatred towards him until he finally concedes and backs off and you do the same, just in time for the ball to finally stop.

“Nineteen, odd, red,” the dealer says as he slides the chips to you.

“I just want to make things right,” he says as he places his bet. “I know I treated you wrong and I want to fix that. So we can be father and son.”

You roll your eyes at the pathetic words and even more pathetic look as you place your bet and the deal begins the round. “You’re not sorry, Mister Wayne, you just feel guilty. Whatever conscious you have in your twisted little soul is making you feel bad and you can’t stand it, so that’s why you’re humiliating yourself trying to earn something I can never and will never give you: my forgiveness.”

He winces enough for both you and the dealer to see, but you find yourself taking no joy in fracturing his mask. This was supposed to be a night of fun and games, but he had to come all the way from Gotham and ruin it. It’s actually made you despise him even more, a task you thought impossible until now.

“Twelve, even, red,” the dealer states as he slides the chips towards Bruce.

It’s then you notice that you and him have almost the same amount of chips and the sight of it ignites an inferno of competition, which fuels your desire to assert your superiority over this pathetic creature before you.

(We are with you,) the Megamycete states firmly. (Show this interloper his place!)

“Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he says as you place all your chips on red, your mother’s favorite color, glaring at him as you do. It’s then he does the same thing, but places his chips on black, the color of the Bat.

How predictable.

With both your bets placed, the dealer spins the roulette, signaling the final round between you two. When that little ball stops spinning, one of you will take all and the other will lose all.

“Please, there must be something I can give you to show you I’m sincere. And you of all people should price is no object for me. Just name it and it’s yours.”

(How pathetic! He thinks all those years of abuse and neglect can be erased by buying you some insignificant trinket? Does he think you some whore that can be bought? Show him how wrong he is, Y/N!)

“You want to know what I want, Mister Wayne,” you ask, malice dripping with your every word, as the ball begins to slow down and clatter around. “I want you to know that I hate you more than anything else on this world; I want it to rattle around in your head for the rest of your life, from when you’re around your collection of misfits to when you lay your head down at night, that there’s no word or phrase in any language that has ever existed or ever will exist on this planet that can fully express how much animosity and hatred I have for you.”

It’s then that you get in his personal space has he had done with you earlier and use the mold so you can stretch your body ever so slightly so your face is almost touching him and stare into those eyes you’ve come to despise so much and they stare back at you, full of hurt and shock.

In the background, you can hear the ball beginning to slow down, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the game. Right now, all that matters is conveying just how much you hate Bruce Wayne.

“I want you to grow old and die knowing that, in the end, I was the one that rejected you.”

His response? Nothing but the widening of his eyes and stepping back, as if you had struck him.

“Seven, odd, red,” the dealer says, obviously shocked at what you just said.

You say nothing as you gather your chips and walk away, leaving Bruce Wayne behind to reflect on your words.

As you walk, you notice your heart is beating enough to burst out for your chest and your face is molten hot, even without touching it. In the moment, you had no idea how your words affected you as much as they apparently did that bastard.

(Perhaps we should return home,) the Megamycete suggests. (The night has been ruined and you need to rest after that interaction. We can always return another night for entertainment.)

As much as you hate to admit it, it’s right; after that display, you’re not in the mood to see what else you can get up to in your first night in Vegas. Being around him has brought back much of the anger you thought you had finally buried after moving back to Goodsprings and getting your life together and it’s killed any desire for gambling, dining, and everything in between.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice sounding weak even to you. “Let’s go home.”

You quickly cash in your chips and pocket the check the cashier gives you before making your way towards the exit. From there, you walk around until you find an alleyway tucked into an isolated and desolate part of the city to sprout mold armor and wings before taking off into the night sky.

“You know, the city looks even more breathtaking from up here,” you remark as you enter the vast expanse of the Mojave.

(Indeed. Maybe when we return, we will earn enough money from playing games that we can stay in the highest level of the tallest hotel of the city and see it again.)

“Yeah,” you respond with a throaty chuckle. “That’d be nice.”

You look down at the desert beneath you when you feel something hit your wings, slicing through and severing them, leaving you to fall to the ground. You shout as you harden your armor just in time as you impact with the sand, creating a deep crater.

(Are you alright,) it asks as you climb your way out.

“Yeah,” you respond with a groan. “What the hell happened?”

You get your answer once you make your way to the top and see Bruce, donned in his Batman gear, looking down at you.

“Are you alright,” he asks, as if he wasn’t the cause of the incident.

You dismiss your mold helm and look at him square in his eye slits, taking a deep breath and exhaling before saying, ever so calmly, “I’m going to kill you now.”

And with your intentions declared, you summon a new pair of wings and launch yourself towards the bastard and before he can react, you grab him by the face with one hand and propel the both of you backwards, using to wings to fly as you forcibly shove his head into the sand and push him forward, creating a trail in your wake.

His hands fly to yours and attempt to free himself from your grasp, but you don’t give him the chance and throw him towards a nearby rock formation as hard as you can.

He can only flail around like a rag doll as he flies through the air and lands on the rock formation with a satisfying crash, sending debris and sand flying in all directions.

Unfortunately, it’s not enough to keep him down as he’s quickly back on his feet. He reaches into his utility belt and throws a batarang at you and you respond by creating a similar object out of mold and send it flying towards it, the two of them hitting each other and falling to the ground.

Of course, he’s quick to act and before you can see it, he’s thrown something at you and you’re trapped in some kind of cable.

“What the hell,” you exclaim as you try to break free of the wire, but find yourself unable to.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says as he closes the gap between the two of you. “But you’re coming home and I’m gonna find a way to get rid of this thing inside you.”

You’re already pissed, but the way he says something so batshit crazy with a tone similar to one that you’d use to calm a startled animal enrages you even more.

How he can still be so determined to drag you back to Gotham when you’ve made it abundantly clear that you hate him and his family after everything they’ve done to you is nothing short of astounding.

(He seeks to separate us,) the Megamycete practically hisses. (Do not let him! Kill him, Y/N! Kill him!)

Your rage towards the man before you explodes like a blast furnace and you reduce your body to a murder of crows and fly towards Bruce at top speed.

He raises his arms to protect his face and you use your mold hardened beaks and talons to slice into his suit, leaving at least two dozen bloody cuts all over his body.

(Good! Hurt him even more! Bleed him dry!)

Your murder of crows fly around him, forcing him into a defensive posture, and you gather them all so you can reform into your armored form right behind him. He realizes what’s happened, but he can only turn around to face you when you grab his wrist as hard as you can, and wave him around in the air and slam him into the rock below you over and over, taking pleasure in the sounds of rock breaking with every hit.

It’s then you slam him into the rock and summon a mold sword. When he looks up at you and realizes what’s about to happen, he raises his hand just in time for your sword to go through his hand and the tip of your sword pierce the hardened Bat symbol on his chest; you know the symbol is the strongest part of his suit so it can protect whatever he has beating in his chest, but you’re determined, so it begins to crack and crumble as you drive the sword deeper in.

He tries to say something, but the damage you’ve done to him takes its toll as he can only gurgle something as blood begins to seep from the corner of his mouth.

You dismiss your helm as you lean down towards him, a vicious, bloodthirsty grin etched across your face, and the sword goes down just a little more.

“Let’s get rid of this, shall we,” you mock, grabbing his cowl, ignoring the shock the suit gives you in response. “I want to see the life fade from your eyes!”

And with that declaration, you rip the cowl off him, exposing his face, marred with bloody cuts and bruises, before you.

When you look into his eyes, you can see past the look of struggle is fear and terror.

(He knows this is the end! Finish him! Put an end to the Bat!)

“Goodbye, Mister Wayne!”

Just then, you see something fly past you and it’s then you realize the arm holding your sword has been sliced through. Bruce takes advantage of the situation and kicks you a few feet away from him and he backflips so he can put even more distance between the two of you.

You quickly collect yourself to see the source of the disruption: Dick and Cass, donned in their vigilante gear.

“You ok, B,” Dick asks as Bruce joins them.

“I’m fine,” he grunts out. “What are you doing here?”

“Alfred told us you were coming here and we knew something like this was going to happen. We all wanted to come, but we knew we couldn’t all leave Gotham, so we drew straws.”

The way he sounds so joyful pisses you off even more. How dare he! You were so close to putting an end to him and Dick had to come and ruin it!

(You should rip his limbs off! Strip him of his wings and cast him into the dam!)

Cass looks at you and you instantly know she’s analyzing you, determining possible strengths and weaknesses. When she sees that you’re missing a limb, her eyes widen.

“Oh,” Dick exclaims when he follows her gaze. “I’m so sorry, baby bird! I didn’t mean to do that! I just wanted to get you off of Bruce!”

You look down to find the severed appendage lying near your foot and go to pick it pick it up. While Dick is spouting endless apologies and pleas for you to stay calm, you merely place the limb where it once was and it begins to stitch itself back together. Once your arm is reattached, you fix your gaze back to them to find that they’re starring at you in shock at what just happened.

“Oh,” Dick manages to spit out after a few seconds of silence.

“This is between me and him,” you say as you take a few steps towards them. “Fuck off.”

“You need to stop this, baby bird,” Dick retorts. “We’re family, you shouldn’t be doing this!”

“You’re kidding, right,” you say with a mocking chuckle. “You people are constantly fighting with one another! If you’re not giving each other black eyes, you’re either breaking bones or slitting throats! You’re all a bunch of emotionally constipated psychopaths who belong in padded cells with the rest of Arkham’s lunatics! And I want nothing to do with any of you! So, for the last time, leave me the fuck alone!”

The only answer you get is the three of them getting into combat postures, indicating they’re ready to go on the attack.

“I give you the chance to walk away, and this is the thanks I get,” you sigh.

From the bottom of your feet, you command two mold tendrils to burrow into the sand below and snake their way over to them and once in place, you order them to burst out from beneath them; such a tactic would spell the end for normal people, but the Waynes are anything but normal, so they somehow knew you were up to something and scatter just as the tendrils emerge.

Still, you put them on the defense by ordering the tendrils to lash out at them, separating them from one another and forcing them to put all their focus on the tendrils while Bruce and Dick are dodging the lashing tendrils, you make your way to the nearest vigilante: Cass.

Just as you near her, she turns around and counters the slash of your mold sword with a blade of her own. You quickly realize that the few dozen people that possess any type of sword fighting prowess pale in comparison to Cass’ and decide to swap to hand-to-hand combat by punching her in gut when your blades were clashed together, sending her flying several feet.

She quickly recovers by the time you close the gap and she not only evades most of your punches, but she manages to give you a few.

What the hell, she shouldn’t be winning.

(Her fighting style is more advanced than anything we possess in our archives,) the Megamycete responds, sounding shameful. (We are unable to find a successful counter to her assault.)

Of course, it makes sense now! While Gotham may have attracted a few dozen experts in fighting over the centuries, Bruce has been trained by masters in every form of combat, including Ra’s Al Ghul, whose lifespan makes the Megamycete seem infantile in comparison. And he’s no doubt taught all of them his fighting style.

Just then, you feel something hit your back and explode, sending you flying. When you recover, you see Bruce and Dick have cut your tendrils and are now heading towards Cass to reinforce her.

(Their armories also seem to be more than we can handle,) it says as it repairs the damage done to your armor. (We have hardened your armor as much as we can, but it seems their tools will be able to penetrate our defenses.)

Shit, so that leaves you vulnerable to their fighting styles and their gadgets.

“Alright,” you mutter to yourself as you ready yourself. “We’ll just have to rely on the one thing none of them have ever had: powers.”

You repeat what you had done before and disperse your body into a murder of crows and send them flying around the Bats, causing them to huddle together and raise their arms in an attempt to protect themselves. You have enough crows continue to fly around them to keep them distracted while the rest of them form together to form your body, but with the addition of four, oversized spider-like legs extruding from your back.

You allow yourself to fall to the ground, the legs pointed down to form four very sharp stabbing implements. They look up just in time to see what’s about to happen, so they force their way through the swarm just as you land where they once stood. The remaining crows reintegrate into your body as you make your way towards them, jabbing your spider limbs in an attempt to stab any of them.

Dick and Cass have narrow frames, so they’re harder to hit, but Bruce’s more bulkier body makes him a more feasible target, so you shift your focus to him. After a few failed slashes, you manage to land a decent hit that causes him to fail onto his back. He tries to reach for his utility belt, but you use two of your limbs to pierce his shoulders and he lets out a pained yell s he struggles in vain to free himself from beneath you.

He looks up at you, a painful expression etched on his face, while you summon two small tendrils from your back, ready to deal the final blow.

“If I can’t rip out your non-existent heart, I’ll just have to settle for your head!”

But, just as you’re about to make good on your declaration, you feel something attach itself onto your back, throwing you off balance.

“Y/N, don’t,” a voice says from behind and it’s then you realize it’s not something on your back, but someone.

Specifically, Dick.

“Get off me, circus freak,” you snarl as you begin to struggle with him.

Deeming Dick the bigger threat, you shift your focus from Bruce to shaking off the acrobat any way you can, flailing around and reaching out to grab him so you can finally finish him off; while you want to kill Bruce more than anything right now, you want him to suffer before you shed his blood.

Making him watch as you rip his golden child’s head off while he’s powerless to stop it? Yes, that’ll do the trick.

It’s then you feel something at your spider feet and when you manage to look down while holding Dick at bay to see Cass, batarang in hand, cutting the feet pinning Bruce to the desert floor in an attempt to free him.

(She attempts to free the bastard,) the Megamycete hisses. (Kill her! Kill her now!)

But in typical fashion, Dick butts in where he’s not wanted and hurls himself towards you, latching onto your upper body, forcing you to brace your back spider legs to prevent you from tumbling down.

You watch in pure frustration as Cass slices off the parts of your legs pinning Bruce down and before you can react, the two of them hurl themselves onto you, joining Dick in trying to wrestle you to the ground.

You grab Dick with one hand and Cass with the other and just as you ready to summon a tendril to deal with Bruce and stabs you with some type of syringe, making you howl in pain at the sensation; instead of injecting you with something, you feel your blood being drained from you.

“Enough,” you hiss, hurling the two smaller vigilantes as far as you can before grabbing Bruce by both his shoulders and pulling him up so that the two of you are eye-to-eye.

It’s at this point your rage reaches its apex; this was suppose to be a night of fun out on the Strip, but the man before you not only had to ruin it by showing up, but now he’s come full circle on his batshit craziness by blasting you out of the sky and try to apprehend you like you’re one of the crazies from Arkham.

And to make matters worse, he had to bring two of his children, Dick being one of them! While you will always hate Bruce with every fiber of your being and Damian being an extremely close second, you’ve always had a strong resentment towards the eldest Wayne son. While the bastard will always say he loves all his children equally (minus you, of course), you know Dick will always be number one in Bruce’s heart due to him being the first child and being a capable Gotham socialite and vigilante.

And to add insult to injury, everyone always says Dick is everything an eldest brother should be: reliable, responsible, and doting. For years, you could nothing but cry as you saw him going out of his way to help and hang out with the other Wayne children, no matter how loudly they tried to reject it. Watching such the love and affection you craved be handed out so willingly and carefree to anyone but you made you think you would never be loved by anyone other than your deceased Momma.

You let out an inhuman howl in Bruce’s face as you shove your head into his right shoulder and latch onto it with your teeth with enough force to rival a hydraulic press. He lets out a pained yell and attempts to pull you off by your hair, but you apply more force until you eventually pierce through the armor, followed by the skin, then the muscle, and finally bone.

You pull your head back, bits of bone and flesh dangling from your teeth. You look to see his right arm practically dangling from just the barest of flesh and blood oozing from it like a waterfall. You shift your gaze from your handiwork to Bruce’s face to see the most delicious expression of pain etched on it and his complexion is pale and clammy.

At this point, you’re a crazed animal, chomping at the bit to go in for the kill on the wounded prey before you and rip it apart until it’s unrecognizable.

(Yes,) the Megamycete roars, its voice a symphony of bloodthirsty cheers. (Do it! Exact your vengeance upon him!)

Before you do anything, you feel something hit your back and explode, but unlike the first one, this one sends some sort of freezing gases scattering across your body, sending feelings of burning as your armor and spider legs rapidly freeze.

You howl in pain as you drop Bruce so you can slap at the affected areas, trying to find some way to relieve yourself of the freezing feeling.

(Hurts,) the Megamycete hisses. (Hurts!)

You rid yourself of your armor and spider legs by ripping it off your body, the frozen mold constructs shattering upon impact with the ground.

It’s then you realize you’re exposed and quickly turn around, ready to defend yourself when you see the three of them flying away on the Batwing at top speed. You could go after them, but after the fight with the Bats and their freezing grenade, you can only fall to your knees, trying to catch your breath.

(We had no idea we possessed such a vulnerability to the cold,) the Megamycete says, its voice sounding weak. (The winters of Gotham drove us to a state of near hibernation, but this is the first time we have ever had a reaction like that.)

“And now you know,” you manage to gasp out. “And so do they.”

You can only watch as the vehicle flies away as fast as it can, carrying three of the Bats away where they will no doubt share what’s happened here with the others, which will no doubt lead to even more encounters like this in the future.

“Shit.”

In the Batwing, Bruce knows Dick is talking to hi, his words quick and high pitched as he tries to dress his wound, but right now, he can’t bring himself to take his focus off the syringe filled with your blood.

When he set out for Vegas, he was determined to find a way to provoke you into showing him your powers and obtain a blood sample so he could perform more tests, but he didn’t think he’d discover a major weakness in your defenses.

While he hated to see the cryo grenade caused you so much pain, he can’t help but rejoice at the knowledge that there’s a crack in your armor and if he approaches it at the right angle, he can have you home far sooner than he anticipated.

And when you’re back home, he can find a way to get that damn thing out of you and return you to normal. And when that’s done, he can begin to make things right with you.

He grips the syringe harder, seeing the key to making his daily whole once again within your blood.

Tag List: @lunaluz432 @type-ink @bat1212 @eyeless-kun @deathbynarcisstick @orbitingtraveler @1s3v3n1 @nosyrobin @roseytheteacup @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @bellethesleepypotato @prettyboys247 @marsmabe @exactlynumberonekryptonite @paolexsstuff @fantasyhopperhea @c0l1fl0r @ellaprime7 @starryperson @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @ratchetprime211 @greatwhisperspaper @tatsuri-zomushiki @bunbunbread @starsdotalk @luna57765 @solelifauna @jsprien213 @diejager @lizz-lrm @v0idl1nq @chericia @wizzerreblogs @tinybrie @lilyalone @thickasthievingtoads @creativechaosx @randomlyappearingartist @ferchu0406 @kik1010 @butterflycardigann @1-800-crazy

[bluezebrafly]

For the fic "I'm Gonna Make this Place your Home" by @rocksibblingsau

I'm making scrapbook pages based on big moments in the fic. I've got a list written, but suggests would help

Pages 1-2

This would be after Branch discovers what video games actually are, and how much Barb enjoys them, so he makes the moment Barb trollnapped him into an achievement.

The second page is meeting Debbie on the Angler bus as well as tossing the guitar into the barrel fire and getting positive feedback instead of his expected negative reaction.

Pages 3-4

Branch's first impression of Volcano Rock City, with the large visage of the first rock troll King etched into the mountain with lava flows.

Barb stealing the boots off another troll when Branch burns his feet stepping off the angler bus the first time.

[thesimquarter]

Quick appreciation of the slightly cursed renders in the GBA manuals for the sims: bustin’ out & the urbz.

Anyways, did you know? The handbooks for the first two handheld Sims games has some unique descriptions for many of the characters!

These are the ‘Meet Your Neighbors’ pages of of The Sims: Bustin’ Out (GBA) and The Urbz: Sims in the City (GBA & DS) in the official game manuals.

[TRANSCRIPTION UNDER CUT]

[page 1]

MEET YOUR SIMVALLEY NEIGHBORS For a small town, SimValley has a lot of colorful characters for your Sim to get acquainted with. This section gives you a peak at just a few of the people who populate your Sim’s new home town.

Dusty Hogg - This bad boy biker plays by his own rules. While rumors around town state that he still lives with his parents, we don’t recommend you tease him about that—or anything else.

Mad Willy Hurtzya - Mad Willy knows a thing or two about going 10 rounds. Quick to solve a problem by applying his fists, he's definitely more of a fighter than a lover

Eddie Renalin - Although some Sims say that Eddie used to be a skinny twerp of a kid, those allegations have never been proven. Though short on smarts, these days Eddie's the biggest and strongest guy around town.

Bucki Brock - Bucki is a straight shooter who was born and raised right in the Valley. This is one girl who knows a cow from a steer and that's no bull.

Daddy Bigbucks - Daddy is sure enough a big spender. Your Sim will want to keep on his god side a to ensure they're near the drainpipe should any of that wealth trickle down.

Det. Dan D. Mann - Detective Dan D. Mann is the police presence in SimValley. He prides himself on keeping the SimValley streets safe and boasts that jaywalking is down 25% since he took on the beat.

[page 2]

O. Phil McClean - While O. Phil McClean isn’t the friendliest fisherman your Sim will ever meet, he does know the best spots for reeling in the biggest fish. If your Sim can get to know this crusty angler, he might tell them just what he’s using for bait.

Ephram Earl - This otherworldly neighbor is very familiar with things that go bump in the night. A bit on the loony side, this ghost can still give your Sim some of the worldly belongings that he no longer needs.

Misty Waters - Misty is responsible for keeping swimming Sims from expiring in the watery deep. She prides herself on staying fit, all the better to save lives and look good in her work uniform... a swimsuit.

Chet R. Chase - No hoity-toity, fancy French cooking for Chet R. Chase. A SimValley native, Chet serves up a tasty plate o' vittles that’s pure down home cooking.

Olde Salty - Olde Salty is the SimValley fish monger. He's a grumpy old sailor so ye'd best be wary of what ye say!

Nicki Knack - This SimValley old timer has made it her business to put her nose in everyone else's. A devoted collector of this and that, Nicki really might have a use for some of the items your Sim can't use.

Uncle Hayseed - Thanks to Uncle Hayseed’s generous invitation to come and spend the summer in SimValley, your Sim has a chance to enjoy the slower-paced life of country livin’ at its finest.

[Page 3]

Giuseppi Mezzoalto - Some Sims are suspicious of this Giuseppi and think that he sometimes uses his van for moving people's things—whether he hired or not, But when it's time to relocate, his big, roomy van does the trick for toting a Sim’s possessions across town.

In addition to this cast of characters, there are many more Sims around town who can become friends, roommates, or more!

[Page 4]

Darius - King of the Streeties, Darius has moves on the court and is a straight shooter when it comes to darts. He can usually be found at his hangout, Club Xizzle. Remember to stay away from his hotdogs.

Kris Thistle - Kris Thistle is King Tower's janitor. Outgoing, with a touch of attitude, she's more at home in her darkroom than behind a mop.

Daddy Bigbucks - Sim Valley's big spender moved to Miniopolis with plans to buy the entire city! Keep your eyes and ears open—this cat is definitely up to something.

Polly Nomial - Queen of the Nerdies and Associate Professor at the university, Polly is one smart cookie. If you're lucky, she might show you her vintage dictionary collection.

Roxanna Moxie - Flamboyant and fearless, Roxanna Moxie is the Carnival ringmaster and Queen of the Artsies. Fond of the bizarre, she counts the founding of the carnival's first freak show among her greatest achievements.

Luthor L Bigbucks III - Luthor is son and heir to Daddy Bigbucks' financial empire. A jetsetter and King of the Richies, Luthor walks the walk, but didn’t quite inherit his father’s evil streak.

[Page 5]

MEET YOUR NEIGHBORS The city is full of people for your Urb to get acquainted with. This section gives you the rundown on some of the people you'll meet.

Darius - King of the Streeties, Darius can usually be found at his hangout, Club Xizzle. Remember to stay away from his corndogs.

Kris Thistle - The King Tower janitor is outgoing, with a touch of attitude. Kris is more at home in her darkroom than behind a mop.

Daddy Bigbucks - Sim Valley's big spender moved to Miniopolis with plans to buy the entire city! Keep your eyes and ears open—he's definitely up to something.

Futo Maki - This construction worker oversaw the renovation of Splicer Island before it was shut down. Maybe you can put him back to work.

Sharona Faster - Sharona had plans to operate a water taxi to Splicer Island, until Daddy Bigbucks squashed her dream.

Jack I. Deal - This big man used to work for Daddy Bigbucks himself, but now he's got different ideas on how to earn his living.

Busta Cruz - This guy is a born entertainer. He keeps the Urbz amusement levels up.

Downloads to the full manuals can be found in this archive.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Songs for Eureka Sessions: Investigation Scenes (low-stakes) or Meal Scenes

Masterpost of Eureka song lists & how to choose good music for any TTRPG session.

Douglas' Blues - Parasite Eve II

Out of Phase - Parasite Eve

Alone in Town - Silent Hill 2

Reasoning - Death Note

Something Stirring - Scooby-doo

Snooping Around - Scooby-doo

Another Mystery - Scooby-doo

Pandering - Scooby-doo

Arriving at the Scene - Scooby-doo

Grounds of Mystery - Scooby-doo

Puzzle 1 - Puzzle Agent

Puzzle 2 - Puzzle Agent

Puzzle 3 - Puzzle Agent

Puzzle 4 - Puzzle Agent

Puzzle 5 - Puzzle Agent

Puzzle 8 - Puzzle Agent

Puzzle 11 - Puzzle Agent

Freshly Squeezed - Twin Peaks

The Zombie - Kolchak: The Night Stalker

Legacy of Terror - Kolchak: The Night Stalker

Mr. R I N G - Kolchak: The Night Stalker

Chopper - Kolchak: The Night Stalker

Deep Cover - Hotline Miami

A Stray Child - Silent Hill 3

Whirling-In-Rags - Disco Elysium

The Stalkers - Dredge

Little Dark Age (instrumental) - Mgmt

Kitty Horrorshow - Tenement

The Process - The Big O

Nevermore - autoisolation

Into the Mist - autoisolation

Clues 08 - L.A. Noire

Clues 04 – L.A. Noire

Safe Room - Signalis

Ritual – Signalis

Intro – Death Note

Max: Panama – Max Payne 3

E5M3 – Sigil

Max Payne Theme – Max Payne

Cannot Hear – Monster

Dogtective - Louie Zong

Clues 01 – L.A. Noire

Clues 02 – L.A. Noire

Floor 6, Please – Atrium Carceri

Norwegian Horror Saga – Manet

End of Small Sanctuary – Silent Hill 3

Fear of the Dark – Silent Hill

Tears of – Silent Hill

Otherside – Silent Hill

Delirious and Devoured – Manet

Aucun Cave

The Obsession Begins Tomorrow - Shadowdream

Der Angler – Bohren & Der Club of Gore

The First Pain – Heroin and Your Veins

Secret – Somewhere off Jazz Street

Ulterior Motives – autoisolation

Lights Out – Cities Last Broadcast

Street Tattoo – Bohren & Der Club of Gore

Constant Fear – Bohren & Der Club of Gore

Nighthawks – Lowering

Vendredi Noir – Manet

Radio Silence – Joal Fausto & Illusion Orchestra

Sand in Lungs – Heroin and Your Veins

Intoxication – Heroin and Your Veins

Bad Luck – Heroin and Your Veins

Full Moon and Dry Humour – Heroin and Your Veins

Miles to Midnight – Atrium Cerceri, Cities Last Broadcast, and God Body Disconnect

Sorry Sir, You Are in the Wrong Room – Atrium Carceri

Daisuke – Hotline Miami

Hotline – Hotline Miami

Crystals – Hotline Miami

Electric Dreams – Perturbator

It’s Safe Now – Hotline Miami

Interlude – Hotline Miami 2

Rust – El Huervo

Ghost Town – Parasite Eve II

Gentle, Two – Kairo

Untitled 2 – The Green Kingdom

Sigh of Relief – Parasite Eve II

Rain of Brass Petals – Silent Hill 3

Morning Calm – Silent Hill 2

Rusty Lake Theme – Victor Butzelaar

Guided Meditation – Old Future Fox Gang

Sherry’s Theme – Resident Evil 2

A Cold Day in Hell – Max Payne

Ada’s Theme – Resident Evil 2

Tailing a Lead – L.A. Noire

Mona: The Professional – Max Payne 2

Address Unknown – Max Payne 2

Hourglass – The Guest

Omniverse – The Guest

The Marshalling Yard (Latter Half) – Resident Evil 2

Bless This Mess – West of Loathing: Reckonin’ at Gun Manor

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Yale Environment 360:

For decades on the U.S. Mid-Atlantic coast, recreational anglers have braved the cold temperatures of late October and November to chase one of the region’s most iconic fish species, the striped bass. This season, just offshore of New Jersey and New York, the fall run was especially strong. “The amount of fish and [their size] was really, really high,” said Lou Van Bergen, a captain of Miss Barnegat Light, a 90-foot party boat out of Barnegat Light, New Jersey. “Every week, all the way through Thanksgiving, you could go out and catch nicer-sized fish.”

From the looks of the boat’s deck this fall, it would have been easy to assume that striped bass, once overfished to dangerously low numbers on the East Coast, had completed a remarkable comeback. Except that in the nearby Chesapeake Bay and in the Hudson River, where the fish return each spring to spawn, the hatching and maturation of juveniles “has been abysmal,” said John Waldman, an aquatic conservation biologist at the City University of New York. Waldman, an avid fisherman himself, called the low levels of striped bass recruitment, or spawning success, in these historically fertile estuaries “a real mystery.”

One way to better understand this apparent shift in striped bass recruitment and distribution in the Mid-Atlantic Bight— the coastal region that stretches from North Carolina’s Outer Banks to Massachusetts — is to look at similar shifts in the behavior of one of its key food sources, the Atlantic menhaden, a forage fish in the herring family. In recent years, menhaden have also been seen in high numbers off the New Jersey and New York coasts — Van Bergen described an early November trip in which the ocean surface was thick with menhaden for some 25 miles. But just like striped bass, menhaden numbers in the Chesapeake and other estuaries, where the fish was once reliably abundant, have been low.

“I don’t know if this is a larger cyclical pattern, if it’s driven by how they’re managed, or if it’s because the water temperature is increasing,” said Janelle Morano, a doctoral student at Cornell University who has been studying how menhaden distribution has changed along the U.S. East Coast over time. “But something is going on, and it is real.”

Taken together, the shifts in behavior of these two interconnected species resemble aspects of a phenomenon that is being observed across the planet, from land to sea: phenological mismatch.

Phenology is the seasonal timing of lifecycle events, like spawning and migration. Think of how honeybees emerge from their hives just as spring flowers bloom, or how in autumn, the monarch butterfly migrates south to Mexico as milkweed begins to die off in the United States. Phenological mismatch, however, occurs when these intricate, interspecies relationships fall out of sync due to changes in the environment. Terrestrial cases of phenological mismatch have been well documented. For example, detailed analysis has shown that, over the past 29 years, monarch migration has been delayed by six days due to warming temperatures, triggering mismatches with food availability during the journey and failures to reach overwintering sites.

But in the oceans, phenological mismatch has been far less studied. Every scientist interviewed for this story noted that while there has been good research on single-species phenology in marine environments, there remains precious little understanding of multispecies phenological mismatch. The subject, they said, urgently requires more focus because of the potential knock-on effects that mismatches could cause up and down the food chain. They also cautioned that all species, marine and terrestrial, are prone to natural swings in abundance, and that declines or increases can’t be pinned to any one stressor. Overfishing and stock management are just two external factors that may be influencing phenological mismatch in the world’s oceans. As the authors of a paper published in Nature Climate Change that focused on this lack of knowledge put it, “Given the complexity involved, accurately forecasting phenological mismatch in response to climate change is a major test of ecological theory and methods.”

[nossumusstellae]

Tips for Writing Mythical Creatures #2: Mermaids 🧜‍♀️

Forget Ariel. Erase her existence from you mind, and allow yourself to be taken back to the ancient time in Syria. Upon these shores swam the goddess Atargatis, a fertility deity who looked after the well-being of those who lived upon the shore. Literally half fish with the upper body of a woman. Also in the distant past (and the present) is the African/Carribean stories of Mami Water, femme fetales that promise a life of riches if you marry them, death if you refuse. The Inuit of Canada’s north tell stories of a woman who became a narwhal, and of Sedna, the goddess who created all life in the ocean. In China and Japan, mermaids often only had the heads of humans. To the Roman naturalist Pliny, mermaids were scaly from head to fin. 16th-century Italian naturalist Ulisse Aldrovandi gave his mermaids frog-like legs at the waist.

The point I am making is... mermaid myths have been around a lot lot longer than Disney. Every culture, in every time, has stories of water-dwelling people. Born perhaps out of imagination or sightings of manatees we’ll never know. It is interesting, though, that all through recorded history, these stories persist, stories of beautiful, mischievous, and occasionally murderous, female spirits of the ocean. It is a fascinating common thread.

Without further ado, here are my tips to writing non-Ariel mermaids:

1. They don’t have to be part fish. What about whales, sharks, or squids? There is so much variety in the ocean. Lean into that! The description of the Scandanavian Margýgr in the Saga of St Olaf is particularly wild: “She has a head like a horse, with ears erect and distended nostrils, big green eyes and fearful jaws. She has shoulders like a horse and hands in front; but behind she resembles a serpent.” And furry like a seal on top of that.

2. Mermaids don’t have to speak a human language. Why would they? They would have their own language, their own sayings and swears. Whales and dolphins do, so why wouldn’t mermaids?

3. Underwater cities might be a thing for mermaids, but what would they be like? Not like ours. What materials would your mermaids use? Coral? Rock? Whale bones? The skeletons of prehistoric monsters? Think outside the classic Greek Atlantis box!

4. Where to the mermaids live? Gotta be somewhere remote if we haven’t found them yet. Are they down in trenches, swimming with angler fish? Or hiding in plain sight where sailors do not dare to go?

5. Are humans a myth to your mermaids? Do they tell stories about us?

6. What is their society like? Matriarchy, solitary, or small pods?

7. Go wild. Break the stereotypes or lean into them. The only limit is your imagination.

Next Sunday: Dragons! 🐉

[sonicranticoot]

Yes she is telling YOU to keep going

Follow-up to an old Teri art

[aravhy]

BG3 x Stardew Valley

Tavs retire from Big City Baldur's Gate to take on the farm.

Mayhew belongs to Berry Lord @saturdaysky and River belongs to Master Angler @mllekurtz.

[isabel3710]

So a little while ago I wrote a one-shot for @rocksibblingsau. Basically I rewrote the TrollsTopia episode 'Bad Hair Day' to include Rock Branch and I thought I would share it will all of you!

I don't know if I'm going to post it on AO3 yet so let me know if I should.

-----------

Two Rock Trolls were sitting in an angler bus, even though they weren’t talking to each other the silence wasn’t awkward. One of them was Branch, the Prince of the Rock Trolls. He was sitting at a table and reading. The other one was one of his best friends, Petra, she was sitting on the couch and plucking away at a guitar.

Branch glanced out the window, “looks like we’re almost there.”

“Great” Petra said “I can’t wait for the concert.” 

“And to see Val and Demo,” Branch added.

“Yeah sure” she agreed “but if it wasn’t for Bad Hair Day agreeing to perform in TrollsTopia then we wouldn’t be going at all. Thanks for that by the way.”

“No problem,” Branch grinned. 

When Poppy extended an invitation to the popular rock band to perform in the new mixed genre city they were originally were going to say no. But then Barb found out and managed to convince the lead singer, Billy, to accept.

Branch and Billy were close and Billy knew that Branch had been wanting to visit his friends in TrollsTopia ever since they moved but had been too busy to properly justify it. That was part of the reason why Branch hadn’t been to any Bad Hair Day concerts recently, so his sister decided to kill two birds with one stone.

He was still a little annoyed at her for making him take a break but she, rightfully, pointed out that things weren’t (probably) going to fall into anarchy if he was gone for a couple of days. And if things did fall into anarchy then Branch knew she could handle herself.

It wasn’t long before the bus jolted to a stop “looks like we’re here” Petra said “are you coming?”

Branch stood “of course I am.” 

The two Rock Trolls stepped out into the bright sunny forest that Pop Village and TrollsTopia was located in. Branch squinted in the sunlight and sighed and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. He did not miss this. 

“Did you really grow up here?” Petra asked.

“Unfortunately” Branch sighed “come on, let’s go find Val.” 

It didn’t take long before they spotted Val talking with a pink haired troll, Poppy. Branch remembered how his friend mentioned how the two of them had become close since she moved there. Not friends, yet, but Branch figured it wouldn’t be long until they were.

The two walked over and they could hear Val speaking “Anyway, I wanted you to meet Petra, my best friend from back home. She follows Bad Hair Day to all their shows!”

Petra stepped up besides her “guilty as charged!”

“You’re her best friend?” Poppy repeated, then she spotted Branch. “Oh my gosh, Branch! I didn’t know you were coming.”

Branch braced himself as he was forcibly pulled into a hug, he sighed. “Hi Poppy.”

She pulled away and Branch turned to Val “hey Thundershock.”

“Hey Branch” Val said with a grin and the two did the handshake/fist bump combo they came up with when they were kids. “Glad to see you were able to make it, thought for sure you wouldn’t.”

Petra laughed “I’m pretty sure Barb would’ve tied him up and forced him onto the bus if he hadn’t gone willingly.”

Branch was about to respond with a sharp wit when he was interrupted “oh my glitter!” It was Poppy “I can’t believe I didn’t know you two were coming, I would have made personalized gift baskets for you.” Poppy then pulled out two baskets full of cupcakes out of her hair “luckily I always have extras!”

She handed him and Petra each one and they both looked at each other, they both knew that they wouldn’t be eating these. Branch still remembered how sweet Pop Troll food was, and cupcakes and other deserts were worse. 

Petra turned to formally address Poppy “You must be the troll Val’s told me so much about. The one who got her to go to girls’ night.”

“Eh. Wasn’t that big a deal. We made friendship bracelets!” Poppy grabbed Val’s hand to show off the matching bracelets. 

“K, Poppy, you’re full-on double rainbow. Gonna need you to dial it back down to a single.” Val turned to her two friends “Come on, you two have gotta see Rock Hollow before the show.”

“You go on ahead” Branch said “I’m going to meet up with Demo. But I do want to see it later.” 

“For sure,” Val said, “I’ll catch you later.” 

The two girls left, leaving Poppy and Branch alone. “It’s really good to see you” Poppy said “you look different than the last time I saw you.” 

“Do I? I’m just in my concert attire.” 

Branch’s hair was pulled back with a cloth headband, which would showcase to the other rock troll concert goers that he was there to chill and didn’t want to participate in things like moshing or crowd surfing. He had swapped out his normal, fabric leaf vest for a dark blue leather one and underneath was a gray ‘Bad Hair Day’ band shirt. 

“So you like Bad Hair Day a lot then?” She guessed.

Branch nodded “oh yeah, the lead and I, Billy, we go way back.” 

“So you’re here to support him?” She asked, “that’s so sweet!”

“I’m also here because I like their music and I want to see my friends,” he raised a brow, “so I’m gonna go find Demo now.”

“Oh right!” She said with a laugh “well have fun.”

He hummed and then remembered the gift basket and handed it to her “also, you can have this back. I’m not going to eat any of them.”

“Oh” she deflated, Branch waited for her to get upset or tell him that he was being rude. But instead she perked up “well thanks! Ooh! Maybe I can give it to Petra so she can have double the cupcakes.” 

Branch blinked as she ran off, huh, seems like having different types of trolls around affected her and made her more accepting than he thought it was going too. 

—---------

Later Branch was sitting with Demo outside of the stage where Bad Hair Day was going to perform, the two were helping to educate the non-rock trolls on proper concert etiquette. 

“So, let me get this straight” a Techno Troll said “if someone doesn’t want to mosh then you don’t pull them into it?”

“Yes” he said with a sigh “how would you feel if someone pulled you into a large crowd of people without warning. Especially if you didn’t want to.”

“Oh, that makes sense” the troll said “thanks!”

“Branch!” He turned to see a pink Pop Troll running at him.

He took a step back before he could be rammed into “yes Poppy?”

“Petra wants Val to leave TrollsTopia!”

“Yeah, I know” Branch said, out of the corner of his eye he noticed Demo trying to sneak away.

“What?!”

He sighed “Petra is one of my best friends, of course she told me about her concerns. I’m worried about Val too.”

“What do you mean?” Poppy asked.

“What I mean” Branch said “is that ever since moving here Val seems like she’s being forced into changing.”

“No one is forcing her” Poppy said “she’s just opening up more.”

“Did you know that she was supposed to come back to Rock Volcano City to visit over my birthday?” Branch asked.

“What?” Poppy said “no! When was your birthday? Did you have a party? Why didn’t you invite me? I could have helped.”

“Poppy, stop!” He held up a hand “I didn’t have a party, it was meant to be a hang out with friends and family. And I didn’t invite you because one, you would have made a big deal over it. And two, we aren’t that close.”

Poppy pouted “but-”

“Stop,” he interrupted, “and let me finish.”

“Right” she nodded “sorry.” 

“As I was saying” Branch sighed “Val was supposed to come but she didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because of you” he said bluntly “when Demo arrived, without Val, he told me that you convinced her to stay because of some kind of event.”

“What event?” Poppy tilted her head.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Branch said “the point is that because of your influence and pressure Val and I haven’t seen each other since she moved here.”

“So you want her to leave TrollsTopia?” Poppy asked.

“I want to make sure she’s making the right choice and that she is changing in a way that she wants too.” Branch said “if she is happy with who she’s becoming then I’ll support her.”

“Well can you tell Petra not to try and convince her to leave? Poppy asked.

“No.” Branch said “not only do I not want to but I also know that I won’t be able to.”

—------------

The show was due to start in about a half hour so a line was beginning to form so people could try and be the first ones to get their tickets checked. Branch and Demo were also in line, neither one of them bothered to get to the front and were just having a good time getting caught up. 

Then Branch spotted Petra approaching, without Val, and he stepped away. “Petra? Where’s Val? I thought you two were hanging?”

“We were,” she said, looking annoyed, “but Poppy kept showing up and just now pulled Val off into a musical number.”

“Seriously?” Branch sighed “well, you’re in luck. I think I have something that will help.”

He reached into his hair and pulled out four lanyards, Petra’s eyes went wide. “You got us backstage passes?!”

He chuckled, “Bill was very excited to hear I was coming to a show.” Branch passed over two to his friend “Demo and I will meet you in there.”

“Thanks man,” she said, “you're the best.” 

“I know!” He called after her as she ran off. Then he turned and threw one of the lanyards at Demo, laughing as his friend stumbled back and barely stopped himself from falling over. 

“Backstage passes?!” He exclaimed “my royal rockness,” he gave Branch an overly dramatic bow “I thank you.”

“Yeah yeah” Branch rolled his eyes “lets just go.”

As they headed to the backstage area there was the sound of something exploding, the two rock trolls glanced up at the sky before turning to each other with a shrug and headed backstage. 

—-----------

During the show Petra and Branch were watching Poppy and Val talk. “So,” Branch said, “Val’s staying.” 

Petra nodded “as long as she’s happy.”

“Yeah” he sighed “I’m just glad Poppy isn’t forcing her to change.”

“Did you two talk about her visiting more?” She asked. 

“We did,” Branch said. “She was pretty upset about missing my birthday so she’s planning on visiting in a couple of weeks to make it up to me. Also, she’s been putting off meeting with Barb to update her on how TrollsTopia is doing so she’s gotta do that.”

Technically each section of TrollsTopia wasn’t part of any Trolls Kingdom (except for the Pop area), but since it was so new the leaders of each Tribe liked to stay updated on how it was doing.

“Oof” Val said “is Barb upset?”

“She probably should be,” Branch admitted, “but I think Barb’s more impressed that Val has been avoiding her for so long, and getting away with it.”

[correlatedcontents]

I Want To Turn My House Into a Great City of Canals

I want to turn my house into a great city of canals. At eventide the gondolieri will transport my family and guests to and from the masquerade balls held every night in one of the eight great glass pyramids that mark the compass-points of the fair dominion, and the police will show up at the door and they will say, "Sir, we've had reports you've turned your home into a great city of canals. You realize this is illegal in a residential zone." And I will laugh--chortle, really--as I invite them to sit with me on my balcony overlooking the vast diamond-shaped Plaza Piscina, which depending on the temperament of the sky above, sparkles different shades of blue, ranging from inky indigo in the prelude of a storm to the purest sheen of a robin's egg on the most peaceful of spring days. On that day, I think, it will be in the precise median, the grayish yet morbidly beautiful hue of an iris that has wilted just to the threshold of putrescence. "Friends," I will say, "do not think it rude of me, please, but might I question the logic of rendering illegal the turning of one's home into a great city of canals in, of all places, a residential zone? Where else might you place such a great city--whose ports, I could add, teem with bustling trade from the furthest corners of the known world, and which even in the leanest plagueyears boasts a population of nearly ten thousand souls--but do tell me, constables, what might be a better place other than here, a residential zone, to host all that, not to mention our grand temple, the Great Ptomanon of the Corpse-God, which houses many hundreds of monks and pilgrims, and is where the Deep Angler Oblun Baga himself is said to stalk with his bulbous lantern through the otherwise lightless and forgotten reliquaries of its aqueous catacombs? Might you think these matters of faith, too, are inappropriate for a private residence?" This I will ask the visitors as my servants, their faces hidden behind masks of luxurious silk fashioned in the wild manner of varicolored vines and leaves, step forward to draw back adamantine chairs arranged around a black-and-white marble longtable set for a great but hitherto quite lonely dinner. And while my revelers call and sing below us, their voices only just masking the whispering, babbling streets on which they ride, their shadows cast in great distorted chimeras upon the agate walls of our city, the officers will take the proffered seats and kindly accept the light delicacies of caramelized adder-tongue and crisply breaded toad, oblivious to the fact that these are deadly necromantic agents to which I, of course, am quite immune, having built up a great tolerance to and even a certain… reliance upon them in the pursuit of my studies, as I sought and succeeded to turn my house into a great city of canals.

[rabbitcruiser]

Yellowknife, NWT (No. 8)

Frame Lake is located in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories, Canada. It is an 84-hectare (210-acre) endorheic freshwater body located between the city's downtown section and a larger residential area. The Frame Lake Trail circles it, and city hall and the territorial legislative assembly building are on its shores.

Formed by meltwater after the end of the Wisconsin glaciation 20,000 years ago, Frame has been an important part of Yellowknife's history. The Dene in the area used it as a fishing spot before European settlement. In the early years of the city's growth, gold mines nearby dumped tailings in it and sometimes sewage. Later, when the city's New Town, now its downtown section, was surveyed and developed nearby, Frame offered accessible swimming and boating opportunities.

However, storm sewers diverted much of the runoff that fed it. Later development blocked the lake's only outflow, leaving it endorheic and complicating the problems caused by earlier pollution. By the early 1970s it no longer supported any fish; within two decades residents had stopped swimming or boating it out of fear of leeches. Subsequent studies have shown that the lake completely eutrophied sometime in the mid-1990s. They have not, however, been able to determine whether that was due to climate change, pollution or some combination of both; the possibility exists that the lake has always been at a higher trophic state than others in the area.

Some city residents have agitated for efforts to reclaim the lake so it will once again be a destination for swimmers, anglers and boaters in warm weather. To do so, it will be necessary to reoxygenate the water to the point that fish can again inhabit its waters. This could be accomplished either by aeration or dredging, which would remove the accumulated rotted organic matter on the lake bed that currently renders it anoxic when the lake is frozen over in the winter.

Source: Wikipedia

[slumbrr-r]

Welp, this is going to be a long thing

I was thinking, since you mentioned the toons of each kind being like their own species, what if twisteds where kinda like this, with their own quirky kinds of behavior but being like wolves?

I mean ir like, during swarms attacking cities, it is more likely for a Pandora Box to show as there's lots of Twisted to keep inside of them as ammo

Or sirens being Mos likely to appear in sewers, lakes, water plants or anywhere where large amounts is liquids can be found, and use the liquids to slow down the toons is they even snap out of their enchanted voice

Gigi's in abandoned buildings where toons used to live or are perfect for those looking for stupid dares or want to dance with danger

And about their own kind hierarchy having normal twisted like the ones in game to be the bottom feeders, the grunts, while the bosses are like swarm leaders, and here I present you: The Sovereigns

Basically the worst version of a Main Toon being Twisted, leaders of the bosses who command them to attack in swarms, they act kind of like the brains of the swarms, staying away while the swarms do their job and then coming down if the fight goes in their favor, if a swarm battle last too long, a Sovereign is likely to appear

But there's the final boss, the boss of the Sovereigns, smart enough to pull all that final boss to face

Patient 0: the Emperor (I think Dandy? Maybe?)

Very nice; except for one little teensy detail. The named Twisteds such as The Siren, The Angler etc. Are unique and one of a kind.

Other Twisteds are just normal mobs yes, and these Boss Twisteds are extra special.

And do note, Twisteds are dead toons that become infected by Ichor.

As for Dandy…you’ll see. There’s a reason he hasn’t been mentioned yet.