#at a certain point the mechanic is gonna have to close
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medicinemane · 1 year ago
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Ok, so here's my big problem with how things are done in this world right now
It feels like there's enough wealth to take care of everything (wealth here being defined as labor, goods, materials, etc), but there isn't a proper distribution of capital (currency etc) for people to be able to access things they need, and it doesn't feel like the current infrastructure and systems in place are sufficient to meet the needs of people at large (and often feels like they are actively designed in ways that hold us all back)
Basically when I'm advocating for changes, I'm either pointing to people at the bottom not having the needed volume of currency to be able to purchase everything they need, or I'm pointing to the infrastructure and systems and saying... well something's going wrong here, that's for sure
Don't know... just felt like saying that about it
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ma1dita · 7 months ago
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do we have any sick!trouble and luke taking care of everything for her??(including her hehe🤭) if not then i’d like to think she would probably try to push herself through the day making sure camp doesn’t get set on fire bc older sister core! + dionysus probably dgaf 🤷🏻‍♀️ and maybe only luke noticing that she’s breaking out in a cold sweat and her movements a little more sluggish than usual but shes stubborn af so she refuses to rest
🐥
also ur works are crushing me jo they’re soo good😭💗
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
luke castellan x dionysus!reader
a/n: no trouble tags fuck it we ball! no edits either lmfao fluff :) can be a standalone just know reader is camp mom and Luke calls her trouble/slight cabin 12 mentions but not important (partners in crime series if you wanna check it out)
wc: 860
Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen you be quiet.
Your voice is synonymous with the harmony of Camp Half-Blood in all of its forms: early morning announcements over the loudspeaker that serve as a wake-up call for campers to be ready for cabin inspections, hollow outcries to keep certain deviants in line (the Stolls and your brothers are a deadly force to be reckoned with), comforting words like kisses for scraped knees for the little ones, down to the gentle blanket of your singing at lights out. Luke also just knows by now that you love to have the last word—gods forbid someone else beat you at something you’re good at. Words always come easy when it comes to you (abilities of sons of Hermes aside) he finds out—but he can’t think of what can convince you to go back to bed today, especially with a temperature of 100.7 F.
He’s been circling you like a hawk this whole morning, not chastising (because clogged sinuses and all you’d probably fight him to your last breath), but rather helping out where he can. He swiftly double-checks counselor assignments once your puffy eyes leave the page, steers you away from walking straight into the fires of the forge instead of the exit at the armory, and waves off any bystanders who dare to get caught in the crosshairs of your bullheadedness.
In times like these, Luke’s almost grateful to be his father’s son (still a hard no, but you get the point). Doing these tasks undetected and mostly through a sleight of hand is better than worrying you even if he’s already at his wit's end; you’re quick in your own right too, body and brain separated today yet working on autopilot through a foggy sick-riddled mind. He hates leaving you like this even for a moment despite your protests of being able to handle yourself, but the two of you are spread thin today with all the work to do.
Luke finds you later after his workshop with your head against the cool stone of the climbing wall. You sniff into your sleeve, a wet sound stifled by the worn-down orange uniform you all wear, though yours looks as exhausted as you are, eyes closed and motionless even with lava slowly trickling from the top.
“Trouble? Are you okay babe? Grover fell off the wall already, you should… restart the mechanism,” he mutters, a big hand clasping at the nape of your neck like someone grabbing a kitten by its scruff.
“He’ll be fine, he’s a big boy,” you mumble with your face still attached to the rocks. “I’ve seen him climb over the Ares table for the last donut at lunchtime, molten lava and boulders should be a piece of cake.”
“At least cake is less painful and more delicious,” the satyr groans, hairs singed down to his hooves. Luke sighs, helping Grover back onto his feet for a well-deserved break.
“Babe…If you don’t move, sooner or later the lava’s gonna smother you.”
He shakes your arm since the controls are wedged between your body and the wall but it’s as if your body is bolted to the floor. A dissonant noise crawls out of your throat, “Dunno, kinda sounds nice. Maybe it’ll clear my sinuses.”
“Maybe it’s time to admit you’re sick.”
Even if he can’t see your face he knows there’s a scowl carved across it, “M’not sick. Just some allergies. I don’t get sick, Lu. Being sick is for the weak!” Lava continues to slide down the wall like molasses, inching you closer to a fate of fire— and your boyfriend watches you try to welcome it with weary arms.
“If you’re not sick, then I’m the best singer at Camp Half-Blood,” Luke drones as he crosses his arms. He can hear Percy laugh from the sidelines at that, silenced quickly by a glare.
“Now that would really clear her sinuses—even better if he dresses up for Theatrics again,” the son of Poseidon sniggers until a stray boulder comes barrelling towards where he and Grover are sitting. Everything’s suddenly less funny.
“It was one time, Jackson, and I wasn’t…” Luke sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Trouble was just mending a costume.”
“It’s okay Luke, not everyone can pull off a corset.”
“Grover, another word out of you man and I’ll make sure your legs are permanently hairless,” Luke grits, finally tired of the chit-chat and more focused on getting you to rest. In one quick movement, he sweeps you off your feet and over his shoulder while his other hand slams on the button to reset the gears of the climbing wall. A delayed reaction falters from your throat, something of a yelp and an exhale.
“Luke! Put me down!”
But he’s already off in the direction of Cabin 12 to get you settled under the covers for at least the rest of the day until you’re up and kicking again. Your protests are scratchy but loud as he takes you away from the two kids and it's as if everything is right in the world again.
“Remind me not to get a girlfriend that stubborn one day,” Percy mumbles, bumping shoulders with his best friend.
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restinslices · 1 month ago
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I hope you feel better soon (from ur posts about ur health). Could I request for Bi-Han with a 'Genius' daughter? Basically she has extremely high intelligence, can create artificial life (despite it not lasting long) and is an exceptional strategist.
Thanks for the well wishes! Hope you enjoy!
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Bi-Han takes great pride in being a Lin Kuei, so just imagine how much pride he takes when his own child is a genius-
Bi-Han would definitely push his daughter when it comes to certain skills, so I think he'd catch on to her having high intelligence rather quickly
Notices that every challenge he gives her, she passes easily
We saw that there's a whole hologram type of area, plus there's already suits being created so there must be an area for that aswell
His daughter prefers to spend a lot of time there, and I think that's what would clue him in that something's going on in that brain of her's
He has her working with Sektor and observes very closely
"Impressed" isn't a strong enough word to describe how he feels
"Proud" doesn't scratch the surface either
How many people can say they have a genius child? One that can create artificial life? One that's an exceptional strategist? Some of these kids can't even read at their grade level-
No tea no shade, but if she's not his first child, he's making her the heir to the Lin Kuei anyway
Y'all remember how he complimented Sektor? He'd do the same to his daughter
"The improvements you've made to the suits have not gone unnoticed, daughter. Your intelligence is a blessing to all. I am proud to be your father"
Ik Bi-Han is this very tough dude who's hard on people but y'all gonna try and convince me he's not making his approval known?
Especially after the shit he's dealt with when it comes to different views with his dad and brothers, a daughter making his life easier is what he needs fr
I can see him watching her work on whatever it is even if he has no idea what's going on
This video is their dynamic
I think it's easy to be like "oh he'd be jealous of his daughter because he wants to have her intelligence and bring the Lin Kuei up in the world!"
No
I don't see it like that
I mean damn, Sektor is smarter than him when it comes to mechanical shit. He didn't seem jealous or angry. He was impressed and applauded her intelligence
There's just no way he's being a salty bitch towards his daughter.
"Your kid doesn't know the difference between their they're and there. My daughter builds android butterflies. We are not the same"
He wouldn't say it like that, but you get my point
All I see is a very proud dad. He has no idea why she's so damn smart but he's not complaining. I see a lot of admiring what she does and letting her put in her two cents when it comes to plans, which is something he does NOT let just anybody do
"I don't have a favorite child!" *only has her pictures on the wall*
Gods forbid he has other kids-
But this is a fluff ask so we will not be getting into that :D
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pianokantzart · 9 months ago
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Seeing @keakruiser making AUs in a bullet point storytelling format inspired me to take a crack at my own AU that I've been thinking about for a bit. What would happen if, in The Super Mario Bros. Movie, after Mario and Luigi are separated, Mario was the one who ended up in the clutches of Luigi’s eventual arch nemesis, while Luigi teamed up with some of his own close allies to go rescue him? Essentially The Super Mario Bros Movie, but with the brothers' roles reversed. So, without further ado...
The Super Mario Bros. Redux (Pt. 1)
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 ________
The beginning is much the same as it was in the original Super Mario Bros. Movie until they are separated in the warp pipe, with two exceptions: 1. When their van breaks down, Luigi's first instinct is to take the tool kit and try to fix the motor (mechanic Luigi, my beloved). But before he can get a good look, Mario insists that there's not enough time, and heads to the job on foot. Luigi closes the hood of the van and follows him. 2. After Mario leaves the dinner table, the focus goes to Luigi's conversation with his dad rather than Mario holed up in his room.
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"What did I say?" "''You're bringing your brother down with you'?" Luigi asks, finally able to get a word in now that his uncles have shut up. "Why would you say that?" "Luigi, be honest. How much did that commercial cost? How many new clients has it gotten you? Huh?" "It's only been a day! And Mario'll figure something out. He always does." Luigi insists, taking his brother's plate of pasta and picking it free of mushrooms. "I just want to help him out along the way."
Pio sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "You can't hide in your brother's shadow your entire life, Luigi. One of these days you're gonna have to man up and start making your own decisions." Luigi doesn't answer, he simply finishes removing the mushrooms from Mario's plate, and gets up from the table to deliver the food to his despondent brother.
After Mario and Luigi attempt to save Brooklyn, after they end up in the warp zone, and after they are ripped from each-other's grasp, Mario is dragged into an unsettling looking pipe surrounded by purple smoke and overgrown with gnarled branches.
Luigi flies onward, emerging from a pipe inside what looks to be another sewer, not too different from the one back in New York. No sooner does he regain his senses does he find himself dragged away by a powerful blast of suction. Flying backwards through the air, he stops suddenly as his back clogs the nozzle of a strange vacuum-like contraption being carried by a little old man.
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"Oops! Sorry, Sonny! I thought for certain you were gonna be a ghost!" the old man apologizes, releasing Luigi from the vacuum's suction with a flip of a switch. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small device that loosely resembles a hand-held vidoegame console, reexamining the numbers flashing on the screen. "When my readings showed that pipe 983 had suddenly reactivated, I thought for sure King Boo was trying to use it to send his band of ghosts to Sarasaland!"
Before Luigi could ask one of the thousands of questions on his mind, the old man introduces himself: Professor Elvin Gadd (E. Gadd for short.)
Luigi introduces himself in return, then asks about his brother. He tells the professor about their situation in detail, describing the warp pipe that Mario had disappeared into.
E. Gadd tsks sadly and shakes his head. He explains that particular pipe leads to "Evershade Valley," and though the valley used to be perfectly habitable, ever since King Boo shattered The Dark Moon nobody who has set foot in that land has ever returned.
"Wait, what do you mean? Who's King Boo?" Luigi asks "Well! You truly are out of the loop!" E-Gadd chuckles, "Then again... I remember how little I knew when I first arrived in this world." He continues to talk while leading Luigi through the underground, casually clearing a path for them with the powerful blowing and sucking functions of the vacuum. "King Boo is nothing less than the lord of ghosts! He is the master of illusions, the reigning tyrant of the undead, the loather of all living flesh, and– at the moment– the sole ruler of Evershade Valley."
This description unsettles Luigi. He retorts that if that's the case, he has to get to Evershade Valley as soon as possible. As frightened as he is, he's never been so frightened that he couldn't help his brother out of a tough spot, and he knows Mario would do the same for him in a heartbeat.
"Well! In that case I suggest you stick with me for a bit. And keep those tools with you." The old scientist gestures toward the tool bag Luigi had dropped on the ground in the mayhem, "I may have a few uses for them."
Just as Luigi comes to the question of where they are currently, Professor E. Gadd opens a sewer cover and leads him out into the middle of a big bustling coastal city in Sarasaland. Think the Daisy Circuit from Mario Kart, but way larger and more crowded (and missing the romantic statue of course.)
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Luigi struggles to keep up with the elderly scientist, who weaves his way effortlessly through throngs of turtle men, snake monsters, insect soldiers, giant sentient heads made out of stone, and a vast array of other strange and fascinating pedestrians.
"Stop your dilly-dallying, youngster!" E. Gadd eventually calls, getting fed up with Luigi's slow, bewildered pace, "I've got a meeting in The Birabuto Kingdom, and my train– our train– leaves in fifteen minutes!" "Birabuto Kingdom?" Luigi asks, allowing himself to be shoved along, "What's that? What about Evershade Valley?" "So impatient! Do you think I'd send you into such a place unprepared??? No no, first I'm going to perfect my equipment, then I'll help you find your brother."
E. Gadd purchases their tickets and they board the crowded 64 Express. Once seated, Luigi's eyes are immediately drawn toward the window. He stares out, deep in anxious thought as the train chugs along, traveling from the coastal city into a desert landscape.
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Then, we switch over to Mario. Standing up and dusting himself off, he looks around to find himself in the gloomiest place he'd ever seen... for the little he is able to see. There is a thick purple mist hanging in the air, and the path before him is shrouded in the branches of a forest long dead.
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Loudly calling out his brother's name on the off-chance he was somewhere nearby, Mario follows a light in the distance until he stumbles across a lone boo. More confused than frightened, and feeling a little sorry for the white specter shyly covering its face, Mario bends down for a moment to examine it, assuring "hey, don't worry! I won't hurt you, I'm just a little lost is all."
Suddenly, he is ambushed by a colorful trio of ghosts: a greenie, a slammer, and a hider. He tries to fight back, but every time he attempts to shove them off or swing his fists he phases right through them.
His attackers knock him around a bit until Mario succeeds in slipping away. Now in a panic, he continues rushing toward the distant light, far faster and more recklessly than before.
Eventually, he gets close enough to discover the glow was coming from the lit windows of an old mansion. He enters and – for the little good it will do – shuts the door behind him.
He wanders the halls for a long time, roaming from room to empty room, all the while haunted by the shadow of something following him. Something big.
At last, he reaches a towering portrait room. Unlike the rest of the mansion it is teeming with life, full of frightened faces pressed against picture frames, begging for help.
Mario is frozen in a moment of fear and confusion, but quickly snaps out of it. He rushes to the nearest portrait– an image of a strange little mushroom man– to ask what is wrong and what he can do.
Before the toad can give a coherent answer, the eerie presence that Mario had felt when he first entered the mansion casts a looming shadow over him.
He turns around and raises his fists in helpless hopes of defending himself. The candles of the surrounding sconces go out all at once, and in the pitch black darkness a cacophony of cackles fills the air....
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zcinderone · 2 months ago
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An ironically conspicuous yet never exploited(except by me as far as I can see) dot that connects everything which could be the ultimate layer of secret to unravel the true identity of Arei's murderer...
It's Levi and this is where the final piece of puzzle comes to make sense of itself: the Monotv recruiting Teruko do CAULKING scene!!!
This is such a detailed and prominant plot that so far made 0 sense as to its connection to the case. Monotv must have enlisted a helper to clean up the mess left in the gym. Since he can't even do caulking, it is 100% valid for the narrative that there are something in this mess he can't handle. This helper would have abundance of time to figure out the mechanism and took the tape. (whereas both Ace and Eden only had cursory glances at the scene also in a rather shocking and intense scenario to figure out how Nico's mystrious setup worked)
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(Monotv specifically mentioning he needs help to do certain chores)
Apart from the 4 involved in Ace's case, the only one awake/available late at night was Levi(and we never know for what purpose the story writer specifically left only him awake and readily came out to check the commotion either). This connects everything.
Think about it rationally. It makes absolutely no sense for those involved in the previous case to make an imitation of their own. On paper, only 4 people knew what happened, and Nico ran off leaving the only necessary tool(tape) to replicate this. Should any of the 3 try to imitate a crime only they knew and able to replicate, they are basically yelling they're the only targets from the get-go (and isn't this what's happening right now?)which is beyond absurd. However, if a third party does exist, it changes everything, they would have everything to gain from pulling an imitation since the premise would exclude their possibility permanently.
Based on the aforementioned points, I will make a tentative prediction about one event we are likely gonna see in ep 15(or 16 depending on pacing): A scrum debate will happen soon, concerning whether or not Ace&Eden really is the only option scope for imitation crime, for they will most certainly discuss the very reason why they imitate and promptly realized the absurdity thereof. The narrative would seem really off if they don't dabble on why, accepting imitation for the sake of imitation. Some will take the stance that such attempt would be illogical for a rational conspirator in the first place, others will insist on the lack of direct evidence of a third party.
(I just realized the dev could've intentionally let Ace kick the tape out of sight because they have much greater incentive to do so but it's very close to premiere so I won't elaborate since either way my theory itself is the same)I am basing this theory on the assumption that the tape went missing under the dialogue box cg is dev's mistake, because the tape on the ground scene always includes Ace on the ground and the moment he stood it changed which feels too abrupt and dev might just forgot to add that, and there is not a single scene that showed the tape missing without such blockade.
More importantly, there were some clues to back my assumption in the "i'm not fxxing dead!" scene. The tape is placed rather near in front of Ace, a little to our right. Yet, when he stood up he knocked Eden out to our left. It would seem shaky if we take this alone by face value as it could just be a dramatic effect, but what happened afterward is the camera itself clearly turned left to film Eden gradually standing, and turned right to focus on Ace and then turned further right to focus on Teruko, which clearly suggested the actual positioning is: Eden Ace (tape?) Teruko (tape ?) . Problem is, the tape still exitsted right before, and went missing right after Ace stood up under the Teruko "yeah i figured" dialogue box, few secs before Eden stood up, therefore her positioning would exclude her possibility of getting it. And Ace couldn't get it either since four eyes were, and the camera was mostly on him, even depicting him reaching his wound with two hands.
I think If the dev did had such meticulous intent for this hidden scene to be the key to locking the culprit, they would most likely be equally meticulous about either the tape's positioning or Ace's act to make unequivocal sense that one of them would have a clear window to obtain it, which in turn suggests they probably never had such intention to begin with.
Also, we got to consider factoring in complementary details like the starched clothes ball(Levi was the only one who mentioned being in the laundry room some time at night in ep10),Eden mentioning "someone's been following her" (I'm 100% sure this is what the dev planted to make sense of why a 3rd party could overhear Eden&Arturo&Arei event), Arei's missing glove(both Eden and Ace wears glove, Levi doesn't), enough strength to throw the rope near the ceiling(they emphasized early in one scene how high the ceiling is and eden is the smallest girl) Whit trying to make an argument about another motive Levi could have for killing Arei yet got cut off, and trying to redirect the crew's attention back to Levi's secret itself for some reason and got cut off again in ep13 11:22 12:44 (this i think is super super important and it seems only I was mentioning this). These solid details are all adding to the likelihood of Levi, and I really can't find as many other details to back Eden or Ace.
I also had a secondary theory back when ep13 dropped might worth mentioning: could the fish simply be symbolic? Sleep with the fish(godfather thingy)? Levi's background story suggests he is very likely involved in mafia conficts. J even asked him if he was "in" the mafia to which he prompt answered No. But very interestingly the dev specifically gives him a pondering "..." scene immediately after his respond to show he seemed to be thinking about the definition of his involement, then J pushed him to elaborate and he digressed.(starting from ep13 1:28) And Levi did have Italian surname.
I don't have that much confidence in this intepretation alone to begin with as I thought it is a bit old school. But since my major theory makes sense, this one doesn't seem so far-fetched anymore.
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karvroom · 3 months ago
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10 Things I Hate About Katsuki Bakugo
◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥
⇦ 006. Several Assholes in One Day
007. Convincing the Brute
Sero and Kirishima peered into the classroom at first, scoping out the sight. They ventured into the dangerous territory once they spotted their target. The pair stuck close together, nearly holding hands in a way that would make you think they were scared shitless.
"Go." Kirishima whispered to Sero, pointing at the burly blonde with a torch in his possession.
They were in the welding and mechanics class. They knew Bakugo would be there because that's where their previous encounter with him was. Cautiously, they wandered deeper into the scene.
"No, you go." Sero whispered back, teensy bit louder than his friend.
"I went before." Kirishima groaned as Sero pushed him forward. He took note to get back at the ravenette later down the line. The red-head gulped as he walked into the vicinity of Bakugo. He exhaled before speaking to the frightening blonde, "We know what you're trying to do with (Y/N) Ashido."
"Is that right? What do you plan to do about it?" Bakugo shouted over the noise of the machine, making him sound almost ten times angrier than he normally sounded.
Kirishima watched Bakugo work. The veins in his arms popping through his skin as he moved the equipment in different directions to perfect his masterpiece. The flames spouting from the tip of the torch ignited a certain kind of fire in his eyes. It was a little intimidating to say the least.
"Help you out." Kirishima shyly admitted.
"Why's that?"
"The situation is," Sero stammered, stepping in before Kirishima said the wrong thing. He hooked his arm over his friend's shoulders. "my man Kirishima here has a major jones for Mina Ashido."
Bakugo stopped the flames by turning off the machine, spinning to look at the two meek boys in front of him. "What is it with this chick? She have beer-flavored nipples?"
"Hey!" Kirishima said, about to spoil the entire conversation they had rehearsed before walking in.
He was offended for Mina, wanting to protect and defend her at all costs—even if she couldn't remember his name. Sero held Kirishima back, pushing him behind his figure. Bakugo turned away, walking to a different area of the room. He was more focused on the project than the conversation and it showed.
"I, uh—I think I speak correctly when I say that Kirishima's love is pure, purer than, say, Denki Kaminari's."
Bakugo looked at the pair, shrugging at their words. "Look, I'm in this for the cash. Kaminari can plow whoever he wants." The blonde dropped the object onto a desk, observing the details under a light. He reached his hand to touch and readjust the parts of the weld.
"Okay, there will be no plowing." Kirishima said defensively, starting to push through Sero's back.
He knew he didn't stand a chance against someone as tough as Bakugo, but it was the manly thing to do—to stick up for someone even if they weren't around.
Sero put his hands on Kirishima's chest, pushing him out of Bakugo's direction. He held his hands up in a way to say he's handling it.
"Bakugo, uh," Bakugo moved from one desk to another, the two traveled with him. It was as if they were attached to his hip, and Bakugo was starting to get annoyed by it. "let me explain something to you. We set this whole thing up so Kirishima can get the girl. Kirishima. Kaminari's just a pawn."
Bakugo uncapped a marker, preparing to draw on a sheet of paper at the desk. His finger pointed to both Kirishima and Sero, "So, you two are gonna help me tame the wild beast."
"Absolutely." Sero nodded in agreement with his words. He watched as Bakugo began to move the tip of the marker against the paper. "We'll do some research, we'll find out what she likes. We're your guys."
Sero snaked his arm around Kirishima's shoulders, shaking him a little as he spoke. Kirishima shook off Sero's affection, gaining the attention of Bakugo once he started talking, "And he means that in a strictly non-prison movie type of way."
"Let's start here." Sero cleared his throat, taking a yellow paper from his pocket and handing it to Bakugo, "Now, Friday night, Tenya Iida is having a party. It's the perfect opportunity."
Iida wasn't actually throwing a banger like Sero implied. It was a study session Iida initially set up for the AV Club. Before Kirishima came to the school, Sero was the president, but Iida took over, meaning Sero wanted revenge. So, as petty as the boy was, he reprinted copies of the study session, but changed it to a party. It was a one-sided rivalry.
"Perfect opportunity for what?" Bakugo briefly looked away from the paper, only returning his gaze to read the address and time.
"For you to take out (Y/N)."
Bakugo picked up the blowtorch and handed the flyer back to Sero, "I'll think about it."
────୨ৎ────
"So, have you heard about Tenya Iida's party?" Kirishima asked Mina.
They decided to take a stroll after school to re-evaluate the plan. Kirishima would fill Mina in about their findings so far. They travelled to a small overpass that was cleared underneath, making a great spot for a hang out. Though, Mina wasn't the biggest fan of how outdoorsy it was.
"Yes, and I really, really, really want to go." Mina responded, finally reaching level ground with Kirishima. He held out a hand for her to jump off a dirt ledge, gracefully landing on the dirt. "But you know I can't. Not unless my sister does."
"Yeah, I know. I'm working on that, but so far, you know, she's not going for my guy. She's not a..."
"K.D. Lang fan? No." Mina confirmed, sitting on a bench. "I found a picture of Jared Leto in her drawer once, so I'm pretty sure she's not harboring same-sex tendencies."
"Okay, so that's the kind of guys she likes—like, pretty guys." Kirishima repeated, trying to get some more confirmation out of Mina.
Mina shook her head, "I don't know. All I've ever heard her say is that she'd die before dating a guy that smokes."
"Okay, all right, no smoking. What else?"
"You're asking me to investigate the inner workings of my sister's twisted mind? I don't think so." Mina crossed her arms over her chest. She looked away from Kirishima to observe her surroundings. Dirt coated the area, as well as bushes and fallen leaves.
"Well, nothing else has worked. We need to go behind enemy lines here."
Mina was quick to take action, suggesting they head back to your house and search your room for any further clues. She seemed to have no remorse as she searched the drawers of your desk. Her fingers fumbled through various loose sheets of paper for school, guitar tabs, etc. Nothing that held any significance to the situation.
Mina stumbled across a pile on top of your desk, reading off each item before handing it to Kirishima to sort through.
"Okay, here we go. Class schedule, reading list, date book, concert tickets, concert tickets." Mina continued her search while Kirishima awkwardly stood, occupying the entrance of your room. Mina opened a drawer where you kept your clothes, a smirk appearing as she lifted an article of clothing. "Aha! Black panties!"
"What does that tell us?" Kirishima bluntly stated, kind of uncomfortable in your room.
The walls were lined with posters from different bands and music artists. An easel for your paintings was sat at the end of your bed, the current canvas being covered by a towel to hide its face. Your room reminded him of a funhouse but for feminists.
"She wants to have sex someday, that's what." Mina explained, stretching the underwear to its full view before balling it up and throwing it back in the drawer.
Kirishima was speechless at the level of comfortability your sister had to have to touch your panties. He figured it was maybe a girl thing, but it still weirded him out. He stuttered, "You—she could just like the color."
"You don't buy black lingerie unless you want someone to see it."
"So, uh," Kirishima started, stepping closer to Mina as he lifted his brows. "can I see your room?"
"No." Mina looked at him almost in shock—as if he had asked her to cut off her arm. She brushed a piece of her hair from her face, nervously speaking "A girl's room is very personal."
Oh, the irony.
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⇨ 008. Bikini Kill, the Raincoats and Letters to Cleo
taglist🫐 @katsukota @wheezdostuff @honeydwitch @chuugarettes @suckstobrlaurie @the-hangry-otter @napbatata
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rathayibacter · 3 months ago
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been thinking about the parallels between ttrpgs and poetry lately, synthesizing some stuff i've been sitting on with both. i don't remember where i heard this from, but i really like the idea of defining poetry as writing that can't be edited down any more; if you made even one cut, one word replacement, you'd lose something. even the repetitions and redundancies are there to communicate something, because if they weren't they'd be removed. 
its not true, of course, but i don't think it has to be. as a lens to examine poetry i think it's fun, and as a goal when writing poetry it's helped me on more than one occasion. any claim to Fundamental Truth beyond that line doesn't matter much in my opinion. what i like about this isn't that it makes for poetry where you have to read a certain meaning out of every single line to "get it", its actually kinda the opposite! by assuming there's meaning baked into every detail, you can get meaning out of any detail you decide to focus on, and can narrow your focus as much or as little as you like. my favorite poetry is messy, colorful, and dense; you're not gonna get a single clean reading out of it because doing that requires ignoring all the fun little twists and turns, all the intersecting ideas that led it to this point.
and so that brings us to ttrpgs! role-playing games are a fascinating thing because they can really only get us halfway; even the most strict and detailed game has an innate fuzziness that comes from the peculiarities of how we play tabletop games. your mechanics are only airtight if everyone knows, understands, and remembers them, and those are three tall orders for any game, no matter how simple or intuitive it may present as. and that's not even a bad thing! interpretation isn't just "what percentage of the rules are the players getting wrong", its an adaptation of the rules as written to the game as played. even forgotten rules are part of this, cuz anything that's able to be forgotten (and again, that's potentially anything) probably was forgotten cuz it wasn't terribly relevant to the table forgetting it. 
so, as we write games and cast them into the world, fully aware that the thing that'll arrive at people's tables will never match what we had in our heads, what should we do? obviously some of this is just practical; don't bog players down with unnecessary busywork or minute exceptions to memorize, don't build a house of cards that stops working if any one part is missing or changed, you can use stuff like cheat sheets, examples of play, indexes, and asides to make it easier to learn, reference, and remember how to play.
but i promised you poetry, and poetry we shall have! so here's my big guiding principle for writing ttrpgs: only include it if it sings. every part of the game should be special, so that no matter what part or parts of the game a particular table winds up using, the game still shines through. by tangling the spirit of the game up in every line, every rule, every tiny little piece, everyone who engages with it can get tangled up in it too, and can fill in the spaces between in whatever way resonates most with them.
in more practical terms, this is "don't write anything that's less interesting than what the players will make up at the table", ie assume players will fill any missing spaces to the table's preferences, so only close those gaps if you've got something fun to say. don't fill space out of obligation, don't bog yourself down in the stuff that doesn't matter. this doesn't mean never add a polearms list because there's a million polearms lists out there already, but it does mean don't add a polearms list unless you're burning with passion to add it, and excited for people to share in that passion. if you don't, don't worry about it. they can figure it out. the table can always replace your good ideas with ones they like more, and they can always fill in the gaps when they come up, but it's not always easy to recover from a wall of bland filler or an ocean of lifeless cliches.
i wont tell you that if you follow this One Weird Trick then your game will be good. i don't know what a good game is. or rather, i know exactly what i think a good game is, and have no idea what you think it is, and have less than no faith that anyone could ever determine what a Truly Good Game is. but just like the quippy little definition of poetry at the top, universal truth isn't really what i'm after when i employ this. i'm trying to make something that satisfies the little itch in my brain, that sings to me as i make it and keeps singing even after i let it go. moreover, i'm trying to make something that doesn't waste my time as a writer, and doesn't waste yours as a reader or player or fellow designer. 
will this make sure players remember all the rules when they're playing? no, absolutely not. i wouldn't want them to, even if i could force it! but maybe, hopefully, what this does do is lodge one of those little razor-sharp slivers of text in their brains, and it'll sing to them just like it sang to me. not the same song, not the same tune, but just as beautifully.
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alwaysshallow · 1 year ago
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gorgeous, part 4
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader
You decide to have some fun; you also talk to old friends. (3,3k)
READ ON AO3
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It's surprising how many times you see him, actually.
It's surprising because you thought – if you're lucky – it's gonna be after six months, on a check-up visit. Technically, he had no business to be here, especially considering how hidden he was, how he wasn't the type to chit-chat. It was okay, you didn't mind it.
And the day after he texted you, when you close clinic, you could see him right in front of the building, his hands in pockets, looking straight at you. It was a hypnotising experience though, especially when you walked in his direction, your knees like marshmellows, and he was still looking.
"Your mechanic was pretty nice." you said, tilting your head. "He said it's gonna be done in two weeks or less since he has work to do."
"Mhm." he matched your pace, walking with you side by side. "Finally doing something with it, aren't we?" he raised his eyebrow.
You laughed. "You make me look like I'm a bad car owner."
"Am I? Or that's just your thoughts?"
His comment made you open your mouth in pure disbelief at his honesty – you nudged him with before realizing how he could react at that gesture. He wasn't exactly a touchy-feely person, but there was no comment from him, so you were glad.
"Mean." you murmured, amused.
"'st speaking my mind, Addison."
"Uh-huh. That's why you're here? To speak your mind?"
He sighed, his eyes on the road in front of you. "You really like asking questions, don't you?"
"I like knowing things. Don't you?" you mimicked his low tone.
"I like knowing things. But I don't ask questions if I'm certain." he answered, straightening his back; a cracking sound that came out automatically made you shiver. "It's just walking you home. 's all, as I said, Sparkles would hate to have another vet."
"Right. Safety reasons, yeah?"
"Good girl. Learning so fast."
Motherfucker knew how to get to you – just after this comment, you had absolutely nothing to say, which made him visibly amused; his brow cocked, and he let out a low chuckle, looking away from you again. Thankful for the darkness, you just walked with him to start another topic after a while – about his cat, of course.
You had to leave 'good girl' behind, to not provoke him to say more because he could easily find out that nickname works for you perfectly. Especially if someone is British, especially if someone is just alluring as him.
And he had blonde hair. A bit curly. That's literally the recipe for a disaster.
After that interaction, he was walking you off to your apartment, day by day. It wasn't surprising after three first times – you just knew he's gonna be here, but you caught yourself looking for him, interested.
Not like you cared – at least that's what you told yourself – but it was curiosity speaking since you knew he was doing that just because of your car. Just because he somehow cared, just because he wanted to know you're safe.
Cute.
What was less cute though, you had to talk with Celia. You just had to and there was no excuse since your car already was in another mechanic's garage. And, Simon knew that you needed to talk with her, so he would ask about it eventually, so dodging the situation wasn't a plan, no. Not when he'd laugh the shit out of you, he did enough with implying you're not taking proper care of your car.
He had a point, though.
You took a few hours off in the morning, leaving Bernie on her own, just to see Celia – you even had your guilt cookies, big jar in your purse. It's not a surprise for anyone who knows you that you bake when stressed, and you certainly were stressed before this meeting. She could tell you anything; and it wouldn't be such a surprise if she'd tell you to go to hell.
A hope was there, though. Not only Simon said it, but when you thought it, it would be a real shame to ruin a friendship, running ten years, just because of a toxic guy that wasn't worth it. Not only that, your best friend had all the right to say I told you so.
You knew you kinda deserved that for being such a blind bitch.
Knock to her door came after a minute of staring dumbily at them, like it would help in something, or if she would magically open it without you knocking. It was a quiet knock though; shy one because, truthfully, you wanted to sprint from her house as far as possible. Confrontation? Not your best quality, no. Not at least in situation like these, when you know you have to apologize from the bottom of your heart.
A minute passed, and you knocked again, louder this time. You started considering walking away you thought maybe she wasn't home, but right after that, no one but Celia opened the door. Her eyebrows furrowed, arms were crossed against her chest, and you immediately knew what her attiude is.
Jesus Christ, it couldn't be easy, could it?
"Hi, Celia. Got a minute?" you asked; hesitantly. She could slam her door in your face, after all.
"Depends. You here because of the car?"
You sighed. "I'm here because I want to apologize, actually."
She seemed surprised as you said it; nonetheless, she let you in, leading you to kitchen. It was the main place of talks in her house, you could say that – not living room, not dining room, kitchen. Very big one, pretty, a table with two seats by side, so you sat there with her, clearing your throat. Wondering how to start.
How do you start conversation like that?
You had the simplest words on your mind. "I was a bitch." rolled off your tongue without even thinking. "I still am, though – but I was a bitch to you when I shouldn't have been. You wanted the best for me, and I just... well, I'm not proud of what I did. I should listen, not throw hands at you. It's not how it was supposed to be, it's not how I wanted it to be. Like, I know also that I should apologize way, way earlier, but-"
"Addie, c'mon." redhead interrupted you with a wave of her hand. "We're both bitches, we literally fought like fuckin' kids. Let me ask you one thing, you done?"
"With him?"
"Yeah, with that scumbag."
"Funny. You're the second person who talks of him this way" you mused, remembering this one situation with Simon. "Done, yeah. For five months right now."
Celia was silent for a moment, obviously analyzing the situation she found herself in; then, with a sigh, she looked again at you, her expression unreadable.
"Good to have your ass back on board, sister." she murmured, smiling a bit.
Next thing she did, was hitting your arm with such power that you let out a little 'ow', laughing with her in the same moment.
"Deserved." she pointed at you. "I apologize too, though. I could be better, I could just... well, tell you everything a bit differently. Not so harsh, you were in love with that prick." your friend muttered, rolling her eyes. "Okay, enough of apologies, though. Who said he's a douche, though? That person might be my second best friend."
So, you told her – almost everything, saving little details about his appearance or aura to yourself; Celia was a pretty fan of him, especially his snarkiness and comments. Yet, she was a bit jealous that you had the audacity to bring your car to other mechanic; mostly, she was jealous of the car, not you.
Her baby, as she liked to tell everyone. She picked it out for you from her uncle, repaired it, added some "cool shit" (it's a mystery what cool shit is, you didn't ask though).
Nonetheless, she was more than glad that you managed to find someone who's gonna help you with that, and you came to her purely to fix something between you two.
A friendship that – you promised yourself – would live through everything, no matter what would happen, no matter of circumstances. She was your person, just like Rosalie.
Who, speaking of, left million voice messages on your phone on your way back to clinic, so you considered it the perfect ocassion to listen to them all.
Apart from her excitement on your car situation, she invited you to her local bar for... a party. You didn't exactly know what party was about, or if it was just a casual hangout, but you agreed to go. It's been a while since you took a break from clinic and actually spent your night out, not under some blanket, watching movies with a bowl of chips or icecream.
Not like it was bad. Not at all. Sometimes you just needed a... change in your routine.
Rosalie promised to pick you up since your car was still at mechanic's – so, your only task was to look good, but not too good. Bar was something else than club; more casual, but you really wanted to at least flirt a little or to catch an eye on someone, even if your mind was... pretty occupied with certain someone.
Maybe your best friend would bring someone worth your time, yeah? She usually had some ideas and wanted to play as your little matchmaker, so you never knew what was coming.
That being said, you opened your closet.
It was almost embarrasing how many clothes you had that you didn't even wear more than one time; mostly, cocktail dresses for fancy ocassions since your parents insisted on buying something new. People of business, someone would say – always having a whim about their galas and shit like this, it was hard not to hate it, considering that business comes before family, mostly.
Maybe that's why you limited contacts with them, sending them a text or two of what you're doing, how's the clinic going. And, of course, Christmas with them or Thanksgiving was a must if they weren't on some fancy vacations abroad.
With a thought in your mind that you have to go through those dressed, you decided to pick something simple to bar. Black tank-top, a simple baby blue shirt on it (unbuttoned, of course) and a pair of simple jeans worked in your mind, as well as in reality, so you found yourself quickly putting on a pair of sneakers.
Your make up took a little longer; you paid attention to your skin, the perfect eyeliner, a delicate lipgloss bringing out the shape of your lips. Everything had to look effortless, even if it wasn't; your motto, basically.
As promised, Rosalie picked you up; and you've talked with her the whole road, almost two hours to be exact. You haven't seen her for two months straight and even if you were updating her as much as you could in a day, it wasn't even close to your sincere talks. She asked a whole palette of questions; how's your car, how's that Simon who rescued you from jerky ex; she looked a bit amused when topic was on him, but you had no idea why.
"Man that has good ideas is rare" she summed up, chuckling, when you catched her up with Celia situation and told her your car is going to be fine, you just have to pick it up in the next week. "Don't tell him that by any means. His ego wouldn't take it."
"Oh, you have no idea."
Soon enough, you arrived. Bar was cute; not too large, but with big-ass bar table and glass shelves behind it with amount of alcohol that you couldn't count, even if you wanted to. Dim, orange lights just added to the view, and you smiled under your nose instincitvely, happy that you've decided to go there.
Tables weren't occupied as you thought they would be; Rosalie mentioned earlier it's gonna be a private party, but you didn't think that private, considering that you could count like... maybe ten, eleven people. Military men with their significant others, as you saw when you walked up to the barman, ordering a drink for you and your best friend.
You couldn't obviously ignore that someone was discussing with MacTavish near you; seemed like a heated discussion, until they looked right at you.
Guy with a skull mask. Full-ass skull mask like Simon had this one day when you two...
Fuck, could it be him? Maybe he was in unit that wore masks like these, you thought. It would be a strange coincidence, wouldn't it? And, Rosalie for sure would tell you that her comrade is the guy you are talking about sometimes since he adopted a cat, Sparkles, yeah?
Rosa had her significant smirk when she looked at you, and it was all you needed to know, especially when men approached you both.
Trouble in a person, that would be on your best friend.
"He gets a bit shy around strangers. Ain't your fault" Johnny joked, nudging you with his shit-eating grin, as he gave his friend a look.
"Mm, I bet. Good to see you, MacTavish." you murmured, which made "stranger" roll his eyes and grumble something under his nose. "And what's your friends name?" you raised an eyebrow, making eye-contact with those brown eyes you wouldn't forget ever.
"His name-"
"-you know my name, doc." Simon said, interrupting Soap. He took off his mask with one, swift movement, to reveal to you his scarred face and disheveled, blonde hair that you wanted to dip your fingers in so desperately.
To say that Johnny was shocked, was the understatement; he looked at his comrade in shock, opening and closing his lips, like he wasn't exactly sure what to say, considering that he took off his scary mask.
"Didn't know you have friends in military."
"Apparently, we're both full of surprises" you sipped a bit of your margharita, shrugging, like you two meeting here was the most normal situation that could happen.
"You two know each other, no?" Soap meddled in conversation, observing you two. It was obvious that he doesn't really know how you two could met, and honestly, no one could blame him. He was in military, barely going out, and you were a simple vet.
You nodded. "We met, yeah."
"Oh, I'd really want to hear it."
"Simple help. Nothin' too fancy, MacTavish" he pointed out, taking a sip of his alcohol.
Soap's look was piercing in you, though. "Helped him with a cat. Simple, like he said." "Fuckin' cat? Ghost is a cat mom now, eh?" he chuckled, which made Simon roll his eyes.
You wondered if Ghost was something they named them in the field, and if yes, why? After all, everything always was supposed to fit. As Rosalie said to you, even if she couldn't tell you everything (classified, of course) every nickname had a meaning behind it.
Ghost... seemed ambigious. You couldn't put it anywhere.
"Better than you'd be, John. Let's drink, shall we?" you raised your eyebrow, trying to lead the conversation elsewhere; looked like your companion thought the same way.
Rosalie introduced you to rest of the team – they all told you their names, but you were sure as hell that you're not gonna remember that, considering your memory was shit, especially to people that you don't see often. Either way, they were nice; very nice, after a few drinks with them you were pretty sure that your platonic soulmate is Kyle Garrick, who was the best partner in karaoke. And, he was also such a gossiper, finding every ocassion that he could to talk to you about something.
Not military related, though; only "things for civilians" as he giggled to you after fifth shot of tequila, telling you something about a girl that he had eye on. Curiosity piqued in the moment he confessed that she was 'out of reach' for him, and it was no chance that he could get together with her.
Hell, for you "no chance" before even trying was non-existent. You loved to prove people wrong, to make them watch you accomplishing various of things just to rile them up, or to reach your goal.
"Don't say that" you pointed at him. "There's always a chance for something. You won't try, you won't know. That's it."
"It's the same chance, as the chance that Ghost will get any of us to that fancy gala. Non-existent." he groaned, burying dramatically his head in his hands. "And like his driving skills."
"Garrick" he murmured; low, rumbling voice made sergeant straighten a little. "'s enough talkin' of it, yes?"
You chuckled. "What gala? And what, your driving skills are that bad?"
"I have rather..." Simon played with glass filled with alcohol "...complicated relationship with cars, I'd say. I prefer walking."
You raised your eyebrow a little, amused; what does it mean his relationship with cars is complicated? You couldn't help but think, as you nodded your head with faked understanding. It was hard to believe that his ass in military didn't have a driving license, so it only meant that his ability to drive was...
Different, maybe. And for his own safety, as well as yours and anyone on the road, he picked out walking instead of driving. Smart, though.
"That's why you've walked me home."
"Affirmative."
"Walked you home?" Kyle looked at both of you in shock, laughing to himself. "Oh, fuck, man. So many things are happening on leave, ain't it?"
"Gaz." Price shot him a look.
"I can't even-"
"Gaz."
"Fuck, okay" he rolled his eyes, shaking his head to himself. "Just so you know, if Johnny wouldn't be so caught up in Ros, he'd back me up."
Your gaze automatically went to Rosalie, who talked with her bartender friend. Johnny, right next to you, was looking at her with slightly darker eyes, leaning his head against palm of his hand. It was... a view, honestly; friends, but not admitting to something more, even if everyone else saw their bond is beyond simple "best friends".
Something that you considered as cute.
You couldn't help but wish that they will be together soon enough; the way they cared for each other... Hell, probably everyone wanted something like this for themselves, as well as you; something so pure with longing glances that would make you weak in your knees.
A sigh of annoyance came out of you – where the hell you were supposed to find something like this when you spent most of the days in the clinic? Tinder or any portal like this wasn't even an option.
Mostly because you met your crazy ass ex here, but also you wanted to... hell, get past that online dating stage.
Was it too much to ask?
"Another round?" Kyle's voice brought you back to earth; you nodded immediately, standing up from your seat. "Captain, Ghost, you comin'?"
"Mm, no. 'm gonna make a call." Price shook his head. "You go. Another one will be on me."
You looked at Simon.
"I'll pass too." he murmured, coughing. "
"Oh, come on! You have to do one shot with me. Please."
"Addison-"
"Please?" you pleaded, extending an arm to him, so he could grab his hand. "Just one."
Simon sighed. "You're not gonna let it go, eh?"
"No, not really. I owe you for that mechanic, don't I?" you tilted your head, smiling a bit. "Come on. Please. Just one shot. Or one drink, anything, really."
He didn't say anything; just followed you to the bar with boys, while you babbled about your work, when Gaz asked what does exactly vet do, besides controls and all.
And it felt really good to feel Simon's eyes on you the whole time. How he keeps his rich, brown eyes at you, while you tried desperately to keep yourself together, just in case - because after alcohol, you were the touchy-feely version of yourself.
He had some time to learn it.
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dizzyduck44 · 8 days ago
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Do we need to talk about driving standards?
I don’t really want to do this post because I’m about to slate drivers I like, but after today I think we need to discuss one of the issues that doesn’t seem to be being talked about. Driving standards and in particular certain drivers.
(I’m going to try really hard to keep this on track and not have it bleed into the FIA regs rant that is coming).
Today we saw a full race quali and a full race in a day, at times in horrendous and dangerous weather. Some people rose and some I now question WTF are you even doing?
In a race that claims a DNS, a crash on the formation lap, a start procedure infringement that has never happened before, a DSQ and a top 3 that all benefited from a red flag (more on that later) , plus we have no idea if and when the race classification will be finalised as out of 15 finishers, half have to go and see the stewards after the race, maybe we have to accept something went very very wrong here.
Let’s be clear I was the first one to say on Saturday that we need to remember we have 3 rookies and Lance Stroll on the grid and to ask them to run in that weather was asking for trouble and unfair. I really wish I’d be able to style that out as a joke, but after what we have seen today, I can’t.
Let’s get into it. There were 5 red flags in Qualifying as Colapinto, Stroll, Sainz, Albon and then Alonso all high fived the wall at speed. Dooming poor mechanics at the end of triple header, who had already been at the track since 4.30 to massive rebuild jobs.
Was it too dangerous to run? Well Lando in the McLaren (that would later prove to be as much use in rain as a paper boat in a gale force wind) kept improving, so I guess there was something in the track. George and the two RBs found something as well. Car or confidence, your decide.
So on the way to the grid Yuki gets fined TWICE for speeding in the pit lane. On a good day that would be a talking point, today not even mentioned.
We roll round to the race start. Alex’s car can’t be fixed. I struggle to understand why Williams gave up a P7 starting position but that’s another post. Off we go and 3 corners in, Lance is in the gravel 😒 Your mechanics have killed themselves to get you on the starting grid and you can’t even make it to the start? No words.
I’m not gonna lie as soon as I saw Lance stuck I assumed we were going for a second formation lap. I’m old enough to remember abandoned starts were different to aborted starts. When the lights changed Lando and George didn’t hesitate to go for the second lap. I know this is unusual but do we not clarify this with drivers regularly? Well obviously not as some cars moved and others stayed still. What are they talking about in driver meetings?
So we finally get the race under way and people are sort of holding it together. We have a couple of bumps, a few off road adventures and a spin or two but generally all within the realms of a wet race.
Until, Nico Hulkenberg gets stuck. Now Nico is an experienced driver. 200+ races. Now me, sat in a chair at home, knows that if a Marshall touches your car off the circuit you are out of the race. Why then when he saw 4 Marshall’s push him back on did he continue? And then line up in the pit lane at the red flag as if nothing had happened? It begs belief.
Then Colapinto. My heart broke for the Williams mechanics, to see the one car they had already fixed back in pieces. Ultimately in that weather you don’t push your luck on fresh tyres. I assume this is something you learn in karting. However that lack of judgement ultimately decided the race as the red flag gave the three podium sitters a free pitstop under a red flag.
To crown it all off we restarted the race in the most questionable conditions of the day and almost immediately Lando told us they couldn’t really see the car in front (if you are going to get that close to George’s rear end, take him on a date first!). Ollie Bearman showed us (a number of times) drivers were struggling to see the track. The camera couldn’t even see cars. Well it’s ok, cos we about to get a safety car, as yet again Carlos decides to visit the wall. Oh and has to go and see the stewards about driving dangerously!
Now at this point three of the drivers that caused red flags in quali have now caused issues in the race be it flags, safety cars or an aborted start. Three of the same 5. Let that sink in. Had it been 3 different drivers we could forget it, but three in both sessions? WTF were they doing? I’m shocked, annoyed and amused in equal measures. How? Twenty best drivers in the world so we are told.
And Oscar’s name got mentioned way too many times for comfort over this weekend. Spinning, off the track, causing a collision.
Don’t get me wrong we saw some awesome driving today. Max and Esteban in particular stand out, brilliant if lucky. Lando’s over take on George, and Liam defending Checo were what we like to see in the bravery department. Lewis decided to be himself for 10 laps and it was awesome. Finally a special word for Fernando. Clearly in pain but out of respect for the mechanics who had worked so hard to get two cars back on the grid for the race, determined to finish the race.
However it’s difficult to forget that we saw some questionable stuff today. Can it all be blamed on the conditions? Well I always argue that if you want to be an F1 Champion you have to be able to drive in all conditions. I think from now on I will be side eyeing a few drivers in that respect. Which is really hard as I like a lot of the drivers who I have mentioned in this post.
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napstabl00k · 4 months ago
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"I'm in love with you," Whisper had said at somewhere like two in the morning.
Tangle glanced at the clock hung on Jewel's dining room wall, reading out a happy little 8:27. A good time for breakfast, in Tangle's book.
She had this uncanny habit of waking up at 7 on the dot, or, at worst, three minutes later, and always crawled out of bed for a morning jog. This morning was no different, despite the absolutely atrocious 3 in the morning at which she'd fallen asleep. Four hours was a terrible amount of sleep to get. But naps didn't agree with her an hour after a morning run, so yogurt and oatmeal for breakfast with a heap of boredom on top it was.
Any other day, Jewel would have been awake. Any other day, she would have been down at the museum, even, getting ready to open at 9:00.
Today, Jewel was getting a hard earned ten hours of sleep, and was not going to work.
And Whisper- well, Whisper had this strange ability to fall in and out of sleep until she was either roused by some outside force or-
Well, really, just roused by some outside force. Presumably it was some tactic from when she was out on the battlefield, to be able to wake up at any sign of danger. Right now, when curled under Jewel's spare blanket, it meant that either her Wisps were gonna wake her, or Tangle was gonna do it herself.
And Whisper deserved those ten hours as much as Jewel did.
"So do I," Tangle admitted to herself, glancing back up at the clock.
8:31
"Ughhhhhh," Tangle whined, smacking her head against Jewel's dining table. "I wish I was asleep too... I bet everyone's sleeping right now."
The party had gone long into the night, and everyone was almost certainly catching up on some much needed z's. Her jog had told her that most stores were closed till an easier to deal with 10 in the morning, though she admittedly didn't feel like leaving her best friend and Whisper behind to go make a ruckus.
Speaking of Whisper.
"I'm in love with you."
Tangle covered her head with her hands. She kicked her feet, just for some way to get all this flustered energy out.
Part of her was happy. Beyond happy, even. She'd been waiting for this for months. Before the virus started, probably. It might've been wishful thinking back then, though.
Tangle would allow herself to admit that she was a little bit stupid. She didn't really get the big words that mechanics and the, like, smart people on those adventure teams she participated in sometimes would say. Plans jumbled in her brain at a certain point, so sometimes she had to make stuff up on the fly, and sometimes explanations went waaayyyy over her head.
But she figured she was pretty smart on one thing.
Emotions came pretty easy to her. Her emotions, for sure, but other's too. They just sort of clicked in her brain.
Love was a weird one, sure. But she lived in a town where she knew everyone and everyone knew her, and it'd been that way since she could remember. She had a lot of time to gather what love looked like as gossip flooded from ear to ear. That's the thing about a town like Spiral Hill. No one's business is really private.
There'd been a little tickle in the back of Tangle's head when Whisper had shown her her mask. She hadn't paid attention to it, then, too preoccupied by the issue at hand. But it had stuck with her, and she'd sorted through it in daydreams and in the minutes between her head hitting the pillow and sleep taking her.
It was the trust that came too easily to a creature like Whisper. Tangle had seen it before, in kids, teens, adults that fell in love. She'd asked Jewel's auntie, once, curious.
"Why do they act so dumb around them?" She'd said, with her little baby lemur voice.
Jewel's auntie, who Tangle had believed to be the smartest woman on earth, then - because she hadn't yet seen her fully put her foot in her mouth when trying to talk to people with any sort of power over her - had glanced out from the balcony the three of them sat on, at the subject of Tangle's curiosities.
"Love makes you trust a little too easily. Consider why someone is the way they are a little less. And you're putty in the hands of someone you trust too much." She'd sounded melancholy, then. A bit sad. A bit thoughtful.
The answer had felt wrong to Tangle's little brain, and years later it caught up that Jewel's aunt had just been cheated on by her boyfriend. But the answer had stuck just as well, and had applied itself to Whisper in a moment of realization.
It probably didn't mean anything on its own, really. But it was a seed that built with every interaction they had, and eventually Tangle thought, with a pretty heavy vote of confidence, that Whisper might be in love with her.
Which was great, because, as Tangle had realized pretty early on, she was in love with Whisper too.
So it was hard to wait, to swallow every time she wanted to blurt it out (because Tangle, for all her talents, was not very good at shutting up), to wait until Whisper knew, to wait until Whisper was comfortable.
Boundaries. That was one of the first things she and Whisper had talked about, when friends was only something you could sort of call them. It had been weird, at first, when hugs were instinctual. And then it got easier with practice. And then Whisper was willing to take her hand, and told her that hand holding was fine. And there was this give and take with them, where some were alright, and others got put up, and Tangle understood.
Really, she did. Whisper had a lot going on, and a romance might not have been in the cards for her. Not for a while. Maybe not ever.
So Tangle sucked in a breath, and waited for Whisper to tell her on her own. She could simmer knowing already in the meantime.
Tangle tapped her foot against the ground. She didn't like daydreaming about all this past stuff like this. Especially not the obvious next bit.
But Whisper had held her like they were both going to die, back on Angel Island, when Tangle had woken up. And there hadn't been much time between her waking up and everyone trying to get back into the swing of normalcy.
Whisper had spent the time all but attached to her tail.
She'd missed her with a desperation, Tangle found. One she didn't understand, but Whisper's face, as monotone as she kept it, turned to her with relief, often. She allowed arms over her shoulder (truly the only way Tangle knew how to flirt, so that was nice,) with the need of someone who felt that Tangle would disappear if she went too far.
She'd grabbed a drink (almost definitely alcoholic, which neither of them were old enough to have legally), downed it like a shot, turned to Tangle, and immediately got interrupted by Eggman crashing in.
Tangle had known, then, what Whisper was going to say, but she wasn't going to say it in this mess, so out with Eggman!
The fight wasn't even that bad, other than the fact that the town square was a little bit busted. Sonic showed up, Eggman turned tail, and Whisper huffed a little bit.
Tangle turned to look at Whisper, later that night, or earlier that morning, and asked her what she'd wanted to say.
Whisper, heavy with sleep:
"I'm in love with you."
And with the excitement came a fear.
Because Whisper was latching onto her as someone who'd risen from the dead. Whisper was latching onto her as someone she'd failed. Whisper was latching onto her with regrets.
And Tangle didn't really know what to do with that.
They could get through it, sure, but Tangle had a saying about it, and it had been running through her head for the past couple days:
It'll pass, sure, but it sucks right now.
"Tangle, if you wanted to sleep more, you could have- you know, slept more."
Tangle lifted her head. Jewel was standing in the bedroom's doorway in her pajamas, Whisper standing at her side in Tangle's biggest tanktop, groggy.
"I wasn't sleeping!" Tangle defended. "Just. Thinking."
Jewel snorted. "Don't hurt yourself." She paused. Covered her mouth. "Sorry. Still waking up."
"I think it's funny," Tangle reassured.
Jewel sighed, then, fond. "I know."
And then she went over to the kitchen and pulled out a can of instant coffee.
Whisper trudged over to the table and placed her head on the table, letting her hair act as a curtain to the light streaming in from the windows. Tangle watched, head resting on her hand.
"Hey, Whisper, girl, uh... Can we talk?"
Whisper hummed a note that might be affirmative.
"'Bout last night. Or, I mean, this morning. Earlier. Y'know."
Whisper lifted her head, pulling her hair out of her face, and placed her head back down, on top of her arms this time.
"Were happy, then," Whisper said, quieter than Tangle's ever heard her.
"I am," Tangle admitted, and her tail began swishing against her will.
In the corner of her eye, Jewel turned.
"Then?" Whisper asked.
"I love you too," Tangle said, it falling out with some kind of weight in her chest she'd been ignoring. "Me too."
Jewel, in the corner of her eye, was leaning against the kitchenette counter.
Whisper's lips curled up, and Tangle watched her press her hands against her snout to hide it.
"But, what now?"
Whisper tilted her head, confused.
"Do we, like. Date? I've never done this before, Whisper!" Tangle pressed the balls of her hands into her eyes.
"Me neither," Whisper admitted softly.
"Then?"
"Don't want to change," Whisper explained. "The same. Us."
"Then, what are we?"
Whisper frowned. "Us?"
"Us. Is that- does that count?"
Tangle turned to her best friend, who was already waving her hands in front of her. "Don't look at me!!"
"Can we do that?" Tangle asked.
"Don't know," Whisper said, almost to herself. "Just, wanted you to know."
That had been what she'd been afraid of, a little bit, Tangle recognized. Whisper was tackling regrets. Not telling Tangle that she loved her was one of them. And now that Tangle knew, she didn't need anything more.
Did Tangle?
It was a strange question. She thought it over for a minute, wondering what, really, dating brought new to the table for them.
Nothing, really, that she could imagine. She could ask to kiss Whisper now, probably, but did they need to be dating for that? She would have asked then anyway if Jewel didn't look extremely awkward, standing to the side, glancing between her mug and her friends.
"What would change anyway?" Tangle asked, finally. "Can't think of much."
Whisper smiled, a small thing. "Then?"
"I like the way you said it. Just us. Doesn't matter if we're not dating." Tangle grinned, big, big enough for the both of them.
"Is- um, are you two good?" Jewel asked. "I feel- I feel I shouldn't have been there for all that."
"It's your apartment," Tangle said.
"I'm sorry," Whisper added for the both of them.
"It's fine! Just- that should have been private, I feel. I didn't need to- Shouldn't have, really, um, been here."
"Of course you should have!" Tangle said easily. "Speakin' of, make your coffee- I already ate, but you should too."
The kitchen sort of settled into something steady, then - Whisper and Jewel hovering about, trying to fill their stomachs. They bring plates back, two different kinds of breakfasts, neither matching Tangle's finished one.
It really did feel normal, Tangle found. Like nothing had changed between them, but the weight of a secret was pulled off of her shoulders.
Well, maybe one thing could change, actually.
"Whisper, what do you think of kissing?"
Jewel nearly spat out her coffee.
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marlynnofmany · 2 years ago
Text
Mechanical Rhythms
I opened the door to the engine room, ready to declare “Lunch delivery!” but the place was so loud with machinery that I decided to wait. Instead I shut the door behind me and carried the tray of sealed containers past all the viewscreens, gauges, and schematics, and into the labyrinth of passages beyond.
They call it the engine room, but really it’s a whole complex on this spaceship. And it’s not usually this loud. All the thumps, roars, and dings seemed to be at max volume somehow.
When I reached the part that was normally smooth walls and amorphous shapes, I saw why. All the covers were off. Some were retracted into the ceiling, some swung open like window shutters, and more lay cluttering up the walkway along with a chaotic spread of tools.
From somewhere among the exposed wires and pipes, a gruff voice muttered angrily.
“Hey Mimi,” I said over the whooshing noises of the pipes. “I’ve got lunch for you.”
“Thanks,” said the voice, sounding tired. And gravely. I found it amusing that our engineer sounded just like any number of crusty old mechanics back home. Mimi’s voice was balanced out by the fact that his name was Mimi, and he looked like an octopus. “Put it on top of the big toolbox, will you?” he said, sticking a tentacle out from behind something shaped like a pipe organ.
“Sure,” I said. I was pretty sure I knew which one he meant. “It’s heated but sealed, so you can get to it when you’re ready.”
“Think I’ll take a break now,” he said. “This is obnoxious and a half.” More pale green tentacles emerged, followed by his round octopus head, and Mimi clambered expertly over the mess to plop down next to the food tray.
I looked around. “What’s happening? Eggskin said you were working on something that might take a while.”
“It wasn’t supposed to,” Mimi griped as he twisted a lid off. “I was just checking for efficient fuel use, since something wasn’t firing right, and now I’ve been tracking the flipping-flailing problem all day!” He dumped something into his mouth that looked like grapes. “I had other thingzh I wuz gonna do,” he grumbled.
“Sounds annoying,” I said. “Made any progress, at least?”
“Oh sure,” he replied, pointing a tentacle over his head at the set of pipes. “Tracked the problem to that area. One of ‘em isn’t in synch with the rest, and I am not looking forward to disassembling the housing so I can figure out which.”
The pipes were a dull coppery-brown, without any of the translucence of certain other engine parts. “Yeah, I guess you can’t really see from here, huh?”
“Nope,” Mimi said, prying at another container. “If I ever meet the pebble-brain who designed this ship, I will have words for them.”
I moved closer, picking out the sounds of these engine parts over the others. Kind of a whoosh-whirr-wheet. “Can you tell anything by listening?”
Mimi spoke over a mouthful of food. “Like what?”
“You said one was out of synch. Does it make a different noise?”
With a wave of tentacles that I took to mean I doubt it, or maybe You’re welcome to try, Mimi focused on his lunch.
Well. Whyever not.
I stepped over more tools to where I could stick my face up close to the noisy things. At least this part wasn’t the loudest — that honor was reserved for the whump-screech rhythm from the boiler-looking dealie down the way. I didn’t know what any of this stuff did.
When I listened from up close, I found a surprisingly catchy beat to the noises. It reminded me of the dishwasher my parents had when I was a kid. Fond memories of dancing in front of it. I’ve always taken my small joys where I find them, and I’m pretty sure that stemmed from a good upbringing. Any family that encouraged kids to dance to dishwasher noises is one that can find fun anywhere.
I moved along the row of pipes, listening to each in turn, nodding to the beat until I found something that didn’t match.
Whoosh-whirr-wheet.
Whoosh-whirr-wheet.
Whoosh-whirr…whirr…
“It’s this one,” I said, standing back and pointing.
“What? How can you tell?” Mimi demanded.
“It dropped the beat,” I said.
“What?”
“It doesn’t match the rhythm of the others.”
Mimi scrambled over, lunch forgotten. “You can hear that?”
“Well yeah, it’s pretty obvious when you listen for it,” I said, giving him space. I watched as he clambered around, listening intently with the little ear holes in the side of his squishy head, sometimes pressing between the pipes in a way someone with solid bones could never manage. There was a reason Strongarms made good mechanics.
But apparently not all the reasons.
“I have no idea what you’re hearing,” Mimi declared, pulling back out.
“It’s this one,” I repeated. “The other ones are going whoosh-whirr-wheet, but this one gets stuck on the whirr.”
Mimi stared at me for a moment. “Stay right there,” he said, scrambling down to a bank of dials and levers. “Tell me if you hear any change. The third one, right?”
“Yeah.” I listened from close to the pipes while he adjusted things down at the bottom. Gradually, the rhythm shifted. “Oh, it’s getting better!”
“See if you can tell me when it matches,” Mimi said.
“Almost there,” I said. “It’s making the wheet noise now, just at the wrong time.” I nodded along, drumming on the air to the rhythm of the other pipes while Pipe Number Three gradually synched up. “Wait, too far,” I told Mimi. “It’s too early now.”
Muttering something indistinct, Mimi adjusted more dials.
“There! You got it!” I stood back, grinning.
“You’re sure?” Mimi asked from the console.
“Yeah, it’s a perfect match now. Ready to dance to.” I shimmied in place, appreciating the beat and not particularly caring if it wasn’t dignified.
“I’ll run the diagnostic again,” Mimi said as he tentacle-walked over to a different control panel. “If that fixed it, I will be amazed.”
I danced among the tools for the few seconds it took to run the diagnostic.
“Welp,” Mimi said. “It’s official. I’m amazed.”
“Did we fix it?” I asked, standing up with a grin.
“It appears that we did,” he said. Waving his tentacles in a baffled sort of way, he looked from me to the panel. “Thanks. You’re useful to have around.”
“And you’re welcome!” I replied. “Happy to help. Now you can finish your lunch before Eggskin starts griping about organic maintenance.”
“We can’t have that, now can we?” Mimi said. “Maybe I’ll eat somewhere quieter, and put the sound baffles back in place afterward.”
“Great idea,” I agreed. “As catchy as this music is, it’s a bit loud for lunch.”
~~~
The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character in this book. More to come!
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vixxdaemon · 5 months ago
Note
Would you like to share your thoughts with the public about O’saAbella? Like anything, whether that would be the reason why you started shipping them, au's, scenarios that are running in your head 24/7 ect.
I was hoping for this day to come…
Alright so, it all started when I saw this happen in the confessional cutscene, when you tell O’saa you have a crush on someone from the train. First person he mentions is Abella :
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Like, this is undoubtedly meant to be Abella, no doubt. So certainely he must at least perceive her as attractive for him to think of her literally above anyone else. (He does mention Karin instead of you play as Abella but like. Most likely cause it’s just that, you already are Abella so he would not ask you if you are into Abella lol.)
THEN FUNNILY ENOUGH the way I started to ship O’saa and Abella together was by wondering if they were any fics with…Ah, Abella tending to O’saa, if you catch my drift. Take care of him. In bed. Dominating him, gonna say things as they are. (There weren’t any at the time.)
So it lead me to think of them more and actually realize that their dynamic would be entertaining to see and how they would actually make a cute couple. I started to look for more things between them in game, and besides the Party Talks that are pretty fucking funny, I had figured out something.
In the Tunnel 1, exactly where you can recruit O’saa, the only way to get him in your party is having him ask you if you know anything of the tunnels you are in, you HAVE to reply to him in the affirmative.
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(Source is on wiki gg, but feel free to go check that out of yourself, you will see that he won’t suggest to join you if you tell him you don’t understand what is happening in the tunnels.)
So, guess who amongst literally everyone in the Contestants that is well versed in machines and more importantly, tunnels ?
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That’s right, Abella. The Mechanic.
What I am suggesting right here is that it’s highly likely that «canonically» (as in the intended storyline that happens during Termina), Abella is the person finding O’saa and helping him out. Not only because she knows how the tunnels works, but also she is most definitely one of the few characters that would be willing to take in a wounded person with her and help them get back to their feet in the cast.
Now there isn’t even this evidence we have in canon, but there is also the fact that their personalities are opposites, and even more than that, some of their themes too, all the while having actually quite important points in common. Let me explain.
Abella has grown up a caregiver, having helped her parents take care of her younger siblings since she is a child. She has an actually quite peppy personality beyond that frown on her portrait, she enjoys romance books and literature. She expresses sadness or disgust at death, if not straight up distress when she sees people actively suffering (the people hanging at the ceiling yelling at the shopping district of Prehevil). Abella suffers for others, as she Moonscorches literally while she is trying to find pieces for the train, doing a thing she always did : helping other people.
O’saa has grown up most of his life away from his family, and since really young has adopted a «fend for yourself and only yourself» kind of mentality. He does not care for the homeless, if not immediately mocking them, he is completely unphased at violence and the suffering of others, he even threatens to hurt YOU if you come too close to him for his liking. O’saa suffers for himself, as we can see his Moonscorch reveals his struggle with wishing for his autonomy and escaping the control of higher powers.
That being said, the points in common they have is that they are both very very dependant and self reliant, both very much the kind of character to take matters into their own hands and get their own hands dirty to get what they want. And if they want something, they WILL get it by all means necessary (see Abella’s Ending B of her learning astrophysics and building a whole ass spaceship to get in contact with the Moon, while O’saa’s Ending B is him BECOMING the higher power, aka a cult leader, to not be controlled anymore and instead BE the one in control, which in my opinion is tragic in its own right but I won’t elaborate on O’saa on his own here.)
All that being said, as a couple I would imagine that most of it would happen outside of Prehevil, in a canon divergent ending of Termina.
Abella, knowing O’saa is erudite about magic and the surnatural, would ask to stay in contact with him because she feels the need to know more about what happened during the festival. O’saa would accept, happy to have an occasion to have his ego being stroked while he teaches someone else about what he knows.
The pair would travel the world to learn new things, spend a lot of time together, and Abella would even teach O’saa a thing or two about mechanics as a trade off for him teaching her about the occult.
Eventually both would have feelings about eachother…On Abella’s side it feels natural for it to happen, as they do spend a lot of time with eachother and enjoy eachother’s companies and hobbies. On O’saa’s side though…needless to say he is having an existential crisis because he did not even know having simple, romantic feelings for someone was even possible for him. I think sexual feelings he views as not shameful, because it’s what his body would need and not his feelings, but there he is having a proof that he’s not as dead inside as he tried to be for years.
Abella is aware of this, as O’saa grows visibly more hesitant and dare I even say coy with showing affection to her that goes a bit too uncomfortably close to the line between simple friendship and romantic attentions. She decides to let him figure it out by himself, but that does not mean she doesn’t enjoy seeing him very subtly avoid her gaze when their eyes meet.
I also have. A whole thing with me and associating them with Gro-Goroth and Sylvian imagery. This bit is not a theory or trying to prove anything being canon, but it’s more about symbolism and narratives that I like to associate with them cause I do like some religious imagery. I can most definitely get into detail about it, but the post is already too long as it is by itself LOL
Hopefully this will feed your curiosity.
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mothmanssweetsucculentass · 2 months ago
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Jason The Toymaker Headcanons
The grind never stops fr fr. Sorry for disappearing I had summer classes and then a certain triangle demon from a kid’s show is took up most of my attention and creativity, and now I’m in regular classes and silly goofy video games have taken up my attention and creativity when I’m not slaving over my art projects for school. Teehee. Oops!
Jason has been another underrated character in this fandom imo, and I especially love love love LOVE characters who just get so obsessed with shit. I can’t remember if it was canon or fanon about him, but I love the fact he gets so possessive of his friends to the point where he kills the competition. And also the friend. Because the best friend to have is one you have complete control over, right?
Anyways.
Cis man? WRONG.
Like you’re gonna look at Jason and tell me that motherfucker has only ever used he/him pronouns? Bro is an eccentric Toymaker ffs
Jason uses any pronouns. Even the ones that don’t exist. Bro collects that shit like Pokemon cards
Hey remember LJ? Yeah Jason made him
I mean hello??? Sentient toy clown? That’s right up Jason’s alley
Jason has also made other clown characters, like Candy Pop
Jason is also one of the few inhabitants that straight up doesn’t need to eat food. Ever
Much like Nina, no one’s really sure what he is, they just know its immortal like everyone else and insanely hard to kill
Most people also avoid them or go out of their way to not get emotionally close to him for super obvious reasons
Like. They’ve all seen her workshop. Every week he comes back with a new human he’s lied to and whisked off their feet with some bullshit fantasy and within the next few days they’ve made a doll of the poor guy
Jason technically isn’t even allowed to do that, humans aren’t allowed to know of the existence of the manor or Slenderman or literally anything that goes on there, but does Jason care? Absolutely not
Slenderman tried getting on her ass about it once, and by some miracle Jason was able to talk themselves out of punishment
Besides making morbid people dolls, Jason of course also makes random other toys. Almost all of them are sentient or are able to think and comprehend speech
Jason uses Mr. Glutton (the snake) as not only a chair, but a garbage disposal as well. Need to get rid of body parts? Give to the snake. It’s like a black hole in there
So y’know how Anne and Eyeless Jack are the go-to doctors of the residency? Jason is the fix it guy for anything that’s not biological
Torn clothing? Jason can sew it up for ya
Gun/chainsaw/mechanical weapon is jammed? Jason has a fix for it
Broken trinket from your room? Jason somehow has already made an exact copy of it for this specific occasion
You could count on one hand the things Jason doesn’t know how to fix
And still despite being the repairperson no one usually sticks around long enough to chat
You’d think with how delusionally clingy this mf is that it would be a problem but surprisingly no
There’s a reason why xe specifically only targets humans
Like? Humans as a species are so easy to manipulate? And are leagues more fun to torture and scare than her fellow serial killer roommates
Similarly to how the others make bets on what weird item Helen can use as a murder weapon, they also make bets on how fast Jason’s next victim gets dollified
So far the record is a single day because somehow one girl had the balls to pull an 80s horror protagonist and stabbed Jason with their own fabric shears
She didn’t get far. Obviously. What’d you expect from an entire mansion crawling with murderous entities. LJ accidentally clotheslined the girl while reaching between doorways for something
Everyone on the third floor then got to bear witness to Jason dragging her back to his workshop by her ankles. Using the same fabric shears. The carpet is still stained from how much she bled. I’m pretty sure one of her fingernails is still lodged in the wall, too
While they don’t share a studio/workshop, Jason and Helen often use a lot of the same crafting materials. They have a mutual relationship where if one of them goes out, they return with something both of them ran out of recently
Beyond that they literally never speak to each other, and they both like it that way
Jason is way too eccentric for Helen to be able to stomach for longer than an hour, and Helen is too particular with so many different things that it gets on Jason’s nerves
One of the few people that does stick around Jason often is Ann
Obviously there’s the underlying factor that Ann literally owes her current life to Jason, but even outside of that stipulation, Ann finds them pleasant to hang around
Unlike Jason’s other doll experiments and creations, Ann is the only one that came with sentience already attached. Saved Jason the hassle of having to create an entire consciousness network from scratch
Like damn, vengeance is one hell of a powerful force, enough so that once Ann was put back together by Jason, she was up and functioning practically immediately
The two aren’t inseparable per se, and definitely don’t see each other as anything more than friends (Ann moreso than Jason), but you can often find them in the same room interacting
Jason, like many of the others, adore Sally to an unnerving degree. It seems as if everyone, no matter how much they dislike kids or ghosts or humans or whatever else Sally counts as, feels a supernaturally strong urge to protect the kid. Jason is one of the few seen with her constantly
Yeah go figure the Toymaker likes to appease the child
But seriously it’s a little freaky how Sally has this effect on so many people. Someone should look into that
While it’s one of the most recent additions to the household, Jason is one of the oldest entities within the group.
Like hello bro was around in the late 1800s, Jason has peepaw bragging rights
With that comes the stipulation that Jason hates modern technology. The newest thing they own is a sewing machine from the 70s
I think it’s pretty obvious that because of his peepaw status, + the fact Jason thrives off unhealthy obsessive friendships, a lot of the younger residents hate her, and vice versa
Is friends/close with: Sally, Ann, Nina, and LJ
Is neutral about: Jane, EJ, Kagekao, Helen, and Slenderman
Doesn’t get along with/hates: BEN/Ben, Jeff, Clockwork, Puppeteer, Liu, Masky, and Hoody
Ben is practically the antithesis of Jason. Modern tech manipulator vs old fashioned old timey manipulator
If those two somehow end up in the same room it’s ON SIGHT
Nina and Jason are constantly bitching and gossiping about anything and everything under the sun. Somehow someone who’s besties with Jason’s rival is also besties with Jason. Nina is just that talented, apparently
Ofc they also bond over fashion. Who do you think makes most of Nina’s batshit insane wardrobe pieces?
Puppeteer annoys the hell out of Jason. That, and he keeps trying to steal and manipulate all the dolls Jason makes. Rude.
Jason is the only one allowed to destroy xer own work. If it catches you fucking with any of the dolls, thrown away or otherwise, you can kiss your existence goodbye because Jason will make it her life’s mission to see to it you never have peace again
Tries not to be in their true/corrupted form too often considering how rotted his arms get in that state. The skin flakes off and everything, and it’s really inconvenient when you’re trying to work on fine craftsmanship and your own rotten black flesh keeps falling into your paint or some shit
Not exactly the easiest thing to control though. The more emotionally volatile Jason is, the more likely you’re gonna see him at his worst
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cass-windfeild · 11 days ago
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Star stable Creepypasta: Staring Horse
At last, my sso creepypasta is complete! Sorry it took a while, work and Halloween preparation got in the way. But, as promised, it is ready for Halloween!
As stated before, this isnt going to be anything spectacular. Ive never written anything horror related before, and while I tried to do my own thing, I was mostly inspired by creepypastas like Ben Drowned, Sonic.exe, and lot of WildCraft creepypastas Ive been listening to. Its also mostly just a very edited first draft. This was more or less a test of my skills.
As a warning, there is no gore or blood in this, however there is a description of a pretty messed up horse model that may or may not be considered body horror, as well as mentions of a possible mental break? Not 100% sure, but I want to cover my bases.
Without further adieu, enjoy.
And Happy Halloween!
I've never really been obsessed with video games.
That's not to say I don't like them, or even that I don't play them. I game quite a bit in my free time, from action packed first person shooters, to emotional story driven games, even relaxing farming and life simulators. I've always tried to be open to all kinds of games. However, the issue is I never seem to stay interested. I tend to hyperfocus on specific games for weeks, even months at a time, and then, eventually, I just put it down one day, and don't come back. I just tend to lose interest, be it in the story, the mechanics, the characters. I just get bored and move on to new things.
Except for one game.
Star Stable Online. An open world MMORPG horse game where you can create a character, buy horses of varying breeds, coat colours, and patterns, train your horses in races or a variety of other disciplines, talk with friends, join clubs, dress up your character and horses, and complete story quests to save the world and learn about the island. Everything an equine crazed individual like myself could ask for in a horse game. Out of all the games I played in my life, Star Stable was the one that seemed to have a constant grip on my psyche.
It started out as just a way to finally unleash my love of horses, an obsession that had started as a child and only increased in my late teens, without shame or judgement. But over time, it became so much more. It became my comfort. My way to cope with all trials and tribulations of everyday life. No matter how mentally straining school was, how exhausting work was, or how bad my mental state was at any given time, so long as I had wifi, my laptop, and the will to stay awake into the dead of night, I had my escape. I could let my mind wander to a world where I wasn't alone or stressed. Where there was no homework that made me feel like I was going insane, no entitled or argumentative customers, no overbearing managers. Just me and my horses exploring the island of Jorvik, saving the world from evil organisations and dark magic, and living peacefully, knowing the real world couldn't hurt us here.
At least, until recently.
In the game, there are certain areas of the game that are closed off, having both invisible and physical walls around them to prevent players from getting in. They're either areas that aren't done yet, or ones that just never ended up opening up. Not that that stopped anyone though. If there's any area people know they're not supposed to go, they're gonna do everything in their power to get there. This is usually done through knowing the layout of the land, knowing what steps to take, and, often, getting a bit creative. There's countless tutorials online of how to get into closed off areas. Some are no longer working due to patches in the game, but finding one that still works is never too difficult. On days when there are no quests or special events, and training starts to feel repetitive, I've taken to testing these glitches and seeing just how efficient they are. I've glitched into Ashland, Devils Gap, Marchengast Castle, Cape Point, the typical areas that seem of interest to players. I even started trying the techniques in other areas to see if I could glitch myself somewhere no one had seen yet, though my efforts have so far seemed to be in vain.
Late one night, I was attempting to glitch into Mystic valley, like I had before, in hopes of getting some nice photos. I jumped out of the Secret Stone Circle and fell into the purple haze as usual, when I heard a familiar whinny, followed by a black screen with the text “Your horse was badly hurt.”. Great. I must've messed something up, I figured.I waited for my screen to return, expecting I'd be transported back to my home stable and have to start the glitch all over again. But to my surprise, when it did, I was in the Mystic Valley, as though I'd successfully made the fall, only, the area was now covered in a thick fog, like when you entered the Mirror Marshes.
I suspected that it was a glitch, or maybe the area had been updated. Hoping to find something new, I rode around a bit, checking all the edges and open space of the area. But after around 15 minutes running around and bumping into invisible walls, I still found that everything seemed normal. Just the same old rolling hills, sparsely placed bushes and trees, and occasional unfinished textures. After a while, I grew bored, and just started looking for some nice photo spots instead. But as I rode past an indented area in the mountain, I saw something I hadn't before. Something white amongst the trees and shrubs that was just barely visible through the fog. A horse. A grey horse with a black mane, standing perfectly still near the base of the mountain.
I had seen plenty of unused or work in progress models hidden in supposedly unreachable areas to keep them out of sight from players, and although I'd never seen one in Mystic Valley before, that's what I suspected it was. Possibly a new NPC horse or even an unreleased breed or colour the developers had been testing. I tried to get closer to see it better, but was blocked by an invisible wall that hadn't been there the last time I visited. Of course, they had to block off the most interesting thing in the area. I tried a few times to pass the wall, but no matter the angle or area, my horse halted and reared in refusal. I was giving up hope of getting any closer, so I resorted to just taking a photo and zooming in as much as possible. I got off my horse in the slim hope that I could get a little closer for a better angle. Only, this time, the wall didn't stop me. My horse couldn't pass, but I could walk on foot as close as I wanted. It was odd, but I wasnt about to question it.
I started approaching, but the closer I got, the more I realised how odd this horse looked. It didn't look like any breed of horse in the game, or like any breed I knew of. Everything looked… wrong. Like a bunch of different horses merged into one. Its legs were thin and long like a saddlebred, but its body was thick and wide like an ardennes or Jorvik wild horse. Its neck looked like that of the friesian, but it was bent down at an odd angle, like its head was being forcefully pulled against its chest. Its long, dark mane looked twisted and tangled, like a longer version of the mustangs. But what was the most disturbing was its face. It looked like it meant to be shaped like an Arabian, but the eyes were all… wrong. They were angled far more forward than they should have been, placing them more on the front of the face than more to the sides. Not only that, but the eyes themselves looked inverted, making it appear as though there were instead two hollowed out sockets in their place. Even the shading made it seem as though that was the original intent. Everything about this horse was downright creepy. Why the hell would SSE make something like this?
I decided to take a picture and see if anyone online knew anything about this eerie horse or if they had any idea why it looked like this. I pressed the photo button, but the second I entered photo mode, the horse vanished as though it wasn't even there. Was SSO so determined to hide this thing that they even hid it from the photo mode?
Not wanting to leave without evidence of this thing, I resorted to screenshots, taking a few photos before clicking out of the game to check the folder. But when I did, what I saw made no sense. In every screenshot I took, I saw my character, the area, the fog, even my own horse in some shots… but not the NPC horse. How was that even possible? The screenshots weren't in game, they should have just captured what was on the screen. I clicked back to the game to try again, but completely froze.
The horse had moved. It's neck twisted at a harsh angle, as though it had been broken in half. Its previously hollow indents of eyes now had two small pinpricks of light at their centre, barely big enough to make out. And with those tiny dots that made up its eyes, it started.
It started at me.
Not my character.
Me.
Have you ever had someone stare at you so intensely that, even if you had your back to them, you could feel it? Like an almost primal instinct kicks in to warn you that there's danger and to prepare to defend yourself. The moment you notice, you get this split second where your body freezes up, and everything around you goes numb except for that feeling of a pair of eyes. That's what I felt when I saw that things eyes staring back into mine through my computer screen. Those hollow eyes felt as though it was staring straight through to my very soul, making my blood run cold. I wanted to move, to scream, to  do anything, but I felt frozen in place, as though that things cold, unblinking stare had me trapped. As I stared, I began to hear the faintest sound in the back of my mind. Almost like a raspy, gargled breathing. The longer it stared, the louder the sound got, slowly becoming the only thing I could hear. As though, even without moving, it was drawing closer.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I managed to snap out of my frozen state, quickly slamming my laptop shut, not even caring in the moment if it broke. The second I did, everything stopped, and I found myself gasping for air despite not even realising I had been holding my breath. My eyes flickered around the room, instinctually looking around the room for danger. After a few minutes, I managed to calm myself down a bit. My body trembled as I became drenched in a cold sweat, and questions ran through my mind faster than I could even process any kind of answer. 
What the fuck was all that? Why did it feel like that thing was actually staring at me? Like it was actually in my room?  What was that messed up breathing sound? Why was that disturbing thing in a game targeted at kids? What the hell was going on? The questions, as well as the lingering adrenaline and paranoia of what just happened, kept me up the rest of the night. My eyes cautiously scanned the darkness, as though that thing would creep around the corner at any moment, until sunlight finally poured in the windows of my room.
I went about my day in an exhausted haze, still mulling over what happened as I tried to find a logical answer. I just couldn't stop thinking about it. Was it a glitched horse model? Or a new scare tactic to keep people from glitching into areas they weren't supposed to, like the old anti-pirating screens of old video games? Maybe even an early model of a new Halloween horse? But why was I so freaked out by it? It was just a pixelated horse in a video game, but when it stared at me, it felt so terrifyingly real, like it would crawl out of the screen or even like it was already in the room with me. Maybe I was just tired from staying up late so often, and I was starting to become paranoid because of it?
The more I thought it over, the more I managed to convince myself. Of course it wasn't staring at me. It was probably just a glitch. Just a bunch of pixels on a screen. It wasn't real. Hell, maybe it wasn't even as scary looking as I thought. My brain was probably just experiencing hallucinations from lack of sleep. That had to be it, right?
Besides, even if that thing was real and as scary as I thought, I wasn't going to let it stop me from playing my favourite game.
That night, after I had dinner and finished my homework, I turned on my computer (which, thankfully, was not broken from the rough treatment last night), and logged on to Star stable again. As I waited for the site to load, I couldn't help but wonder. What if it was real? What if I loaded into Mystic Valley again, and that thing was still there? What if I froze up again? I pushed the feeling away. I had already left the lights on to ease this ridiculous fear, I wasn't backing down. It was just a stupid creepy horse in a video game. It was fake. I was safe. The game opened with the familiar welcoming ring, and I was thankful to see I was back in front of my home stable, and there was no glitched NPC horse anywhere to be seen. I sighed in relief. It was all just in my mind.
I spent the next few hours training my lower level horse, completing race after race as I made my way across the map like always. I even competed in a few championships, despite being one of the only people online at that time of night. However, I couldn't shake this eerie feeling. Everything was normal, but I kept feeling as though I wasn't alone. Like there was always someone or something watching me from just out of my line of sight, and whenever I looked around, it would disappear. I tried to ignore it, telling myself it was my imagination or that I was still just anxious from everything.
At around 4 am, I had finished all the races and decided to call it a night. I called for pickup, and went to enter my stable. But after a few seconds of loading, I noticed something. There was no image of Maya walking through the stable to take care of the horses. Just a pitch black screen with no text. At first, I thought my computer had frozen, and I begrudgingly waited for the “Star Stable.EXE has stopped working” pop up. But, after a minute or so, the loading finished, and I was standing inside the stable. Only, my horse was gone. All of my horses were gone. Was my game crashing? I looked around briefly before clicking the stable button to see where my horse went. 
What I saw made my breath catch in my throat. In place of every icon that was meant to be one of my horses was instead replaced by that same, deformed face of that horse, staring back at me with those dark, soulless eyes. And where my horses names should have been, was instead my name. My real name.
How was that even possible? I never used my real name anywhere on star stable, or anywhere online for that matter. I exited the stable menu, and there it was. That mangled, horrifying thing standing in the stable aisle staring at me. I felt my body tense, but I refused to let that thing trap me again. It's not real, I told myself. It's a glitch. That's all.
I pressed the exit button to quit the game, but nothing happened. I kept pressing, but no menu appeared. I started to panic as I heard the distorted breathing begin again, and as it did, I watched in horror as the horse's jaw slowly unhinged, stretching down towards the ground, revealing a set of sharp, fang-like teeth that lined its jaw. I felt its eyes burn into me, like a predator sizing up its prey before going for its throat. This wasn't in my head. This wasn't just a glitch. Whatever this thing was, it was real, it was sentient, and it wanted me. I kept clicking every button I could think of to get the game to close, but still, nothing worked. Even when I finally had enough and slammed my laptop closed again, I could still hear those tortured breaths getting louder and louder in my head. I covered my ears and closed my eyes, begging it to stop, to just go away, but still it persisted till I couldn't even hear my own panicked heartbeat over it.
I was about to scream out of pure fear and desperation when all of a sudden, it stopped. Just as quickly as the breathing had begun, it stopped, leaving me in the silence of my room. I sat motionless for a few moments before slowly opened my eyes, tears threatening to fall as I looked frantically around the room for any sign of danger, but all I saw was my lit bedroom and my computer all but tossed off my lap, teetering near the edge of the bed.
Was it over? Was that thing gone? I sat as still as possible for the longest time, as though waiting for something, anything to happen, but still, nothing. After what felt like hours, I mustered up the courage to reach for my computer. I had to know. Just a quick peak to make sure it was off and that that thing wouldn't come for me. Slowly, I lifted the screen, just enough that I could see the light of the screen.
Nothing.
Inch by inch, I opened the laptop fully, only to be met with a black screen. A sigh escaped me as I confirmed the computer had powered itself off after being closed. So long as I didn't log on to the game, that thing couldn't possibly get me.
But as moved to close it, my eyes caught sight of my reflection in the darkness of the screen.
And I saw it.
In the reflection was that long, grey, mangled face with its dead, hollow eyes staring motionless at me from the shadows, its jaw still unhinged like a snake.
The next thing I remember was my parents rushing into my room as I screamed bloody murder, thrashing violently as I tried to get away from that thing. They practically had to restrain me to get me to finally calm down. I cried in their arms as they frantically pushed for answere to figure out what had happened. When I tried to explain, they chalked it up to a night terror brought on by stress. The more I tried to insist it was real, the more they assured me it wasn't. I only stopped insisting when they started suggesting getting me psychological help and the idea that I was having a mental breakdown. I knew no one would believe me. Even if I got proof, what could they really do about any of this anyway?
It's been months since I last played Star Stable Online. Even the thought of logging on makes me feel anxiety build up in my chest. I want so desperately to have things back to the way they were. To just log on and forget the world again. And yet, I know that I never will. That thing didn't just  traumatize me. It stole a part of me. It stole my comfort. My escape from the world. It stole that sense of peace and safety, a part of me I will never get back.
What's worse, it stole my sense of reasoning. I tried researching what I saw and asking around the community. I even emailed Star Stable Entertainment themselves, just hoping for any kind of answer, and still got nothing. I dont have an explanation for what happened or why it affected me so much. 
I can't explain why it chose me, or how it was able to do what it did. 
I can't explain why I still see it, or why it almost appears to be getting a bit closer everytime I see it in the corner of my eye. 
I can't explain why every night since, the moment I start to fall asleep, I hear those same, horrid, gasping breaths in my ears, getting louder and louder. 
And, no matter how hard I try, I can never explain why Ive started feeling a cold rush of air run down my neck in time with each breath.
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tonythr · 1 year ago
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Sometimes you are so sad you turn into a game construct, and that's ok
Part of the reason I love Hollow Knight is that you never know when a certain phenomenon is a part of the game's actual lore or simply a gameplay convenience, but most of the time it's up to you to decide anyway. Like, yeah, I know that looking too much into what should be just a game mechanic and/or a simple animation effect makes you more of a clown than a lore master, but, honestly, at this point the entire fandom wears rainbow wigs and squeaky red noses in order to forget about the pain of no Silksong, so no one has the right to stop me from having fun with some observations I made and how they might be intentional lore pieces. So yeah, what I'm trying to say is that this theory might be a bit of a stretch, but I think it's neat, so I'm gonna post it anyway.
Now, here's the question: what do you think these two have in common?
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Both are very sad because they lost someone who was close to them.
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2. Both give the Knight a Mask Shard when they die.
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My theory here is that these two things are connected.
Now, Mask Shards are weird, lore-wise. The locations where they are found don't always... make much sense. Like ok, aside from the two that I mentioned above, we have ones that are found on top of ancient black statues — this implies that those shards are connected to (and probably were made by) the Ancient Civilisation.
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We also have some shards that we get from various NPCs (Sly, Bretta, Seer) — those also make sense, since there's nothing wrong with those weird bugs possessing some ancient artifacts. But then we have Mask Shards that just kinda... float there.
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No ancient pedestals. No reason to suggest someone actually owned them. No reason for them to be there aside from the game wanting to reward the player for something.
This is also true for some of the Vessel Fragments.
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Although the fountain one is exceptional. The fragment is actually a part of the Pale King's statue, but it detaches once the needed amount of geo is reached. It looks like this statue actually 'gives' it to the Knight once it puts enough geo in the fountain. It could be something that has to do with PK's magic, or with the whole 'sacrifice' theme that's going on with him. Anyway, it's not hard to come up with an explanation for how that one works. What is more interesting is how these shards and fragments are created.
Because apparently this mf can just materialize them out of thin air.
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Now, I KNOW this is probably just a nice animation to emphasize how cool of an award a mask shard is, but it also wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that what happens here is Grubfather actually manipulating Soul to create this shard for the Knight. I mean, Grubs do possess some sort of 'holy strength' that was never properly explained to us (that's why I'm hoping to see some grubs in Silksong), and one of the two charms created from their power is something that straight-up gives the Knight extra Soul. If we don't count the Shaman charms, which were used only to extract and use Soul more efficiently, the only other charm that does that is Kingsoul, the embodiment of the union between two Pale Beings. So yeah, the Grubs are totally OP, and Grubfather probably does create a Mask Shard out of Soul here.
Which only proves the fact that both Mask Shards and Vessel Fragments are made out of Soul. I mean, come on, the Knight literally consumes them just like it consumes each of the spells and the Soul of its enemies, AND it takes Soul to restore broken masks. I think it's safe to assume that those ancient masks that the Knight is using to strengthen its shell are made out of Soul, or at least some material that is heavily tied to Soul in some way.
Another fact is that those masks and vessels have big connections to the Ancient Civilisation. Aside from the obvious things like the fragment/shard statues that I mentioned earlier having clear similarities to the Soul totems, there's this whole thing with the engravings on those masks and vessels having a bunch of connections with magical secrets of the Ancient Civilisation...
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What I'm getting at here is that the bugs of the Ancient Civilisation probably knew the secrets of manipulating Soul and used those secrets to create masks (for protection) and Soul Vessels (for containing Soul), as well as Soul Totems. It means there is a way a Mask can be created out of Soul, aside from what we see the Knight do when it heals (which is an interesting process, btw - when a mask breaks, the Knight can restore it using Soul, but it can't create new masks to have infinite HP, so the masks it collects must have unique properties that prevent them from being completely destroyed and instead allow them to be recovered after breaking). And maybe that process was already shown to us.
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Ok, now I'm actually talking about my theory again. See, the reason I think there's more to these two moments than just a simple reward being given to us by the game is because there's some overlapping philosophical (symbolical?) motifs that connect Brooding Mawlek and Grey Mourner AND possibly give us a glimpse into the secrets of Soul discovered by the Ancient Civilisation. I'm talking about what Soul itself might represent as a sorta metaphysical concept (I don't know how to say that properly... Just bear with me pls).
In the world of Hollow Knight, there are many philosophical concepts that give depth to the nature of various in-world phenomenons. For example, the Void is heavily tied to regrets, perhaps dark memories that keep us from moving forward. That's why it makes sense that, ultimately, Pale King faced his demise at the hands of the Void - he sacrificed thousands of his own children in order to save Hallownest and failed anyway, so there is no way he could avoid (pun intended) being overwhelmed by his regrets about this whole thing.
The Soul is the power that contrasts the Void.
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It's implied by Jiji that, when the Knight leaves behind its Shade, it starts to drain *hope* from it.
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This line was probably left there to explain this game mechanic:
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When the Knight dies, it can no longer fill its Soul meter to the full, until it finds and defeats its Shade. This implies that Soul represents *hope* in contrast to the Void representing regrets.
If we accept this assumption, we can see that it makes sense how:
The White Palace is shown as a beautiful, calm, hopeful place despite it being filled with thorns and sawblades (that might or might not be a metaphor for the PK's pain of trying to hide his mistakes and regrets).
The shamans' dying thoughts are often their last hopes of being free, being heard etc.
The Soul is literally what gives the bugs' bodies the energy to move.
I feel soulless when I wake up at 7 a.m.
All things considered, it's easy to see how Soul is something that might represent such things as hope, motivation, faith - all those feelings that make a person feel whole.
And when the fate forces someone into situations where those things are lost, their inner self breaks. When something separates us from our loved ones for a whole eternity, leaving us as lonely, empty shells of our former selves, our soul hardens.
We already know that masks in this game directly correspond to the person's self, their ability to define themselves as who they are. A mask is literally the core of the person's mind.
And when a person breaks, when their hope becomes eternal sadness, when the essence that animates their body becomes a solid rock, their mind shatters, leaving only a single shard of what should have been a whole mask.
Perhaps, something like that also happened to the bugs of the Ancient Civilisation? Or maybe they found a way to control that sadness, just like they found a way to manipulate the power of regrets? They look like a bunch of cool goth bugs, so I wouldn't be surprised if that was their thing.
TL;DR: ancient masks that the Knight uses are made out of Soul, and Soul is a power that represents hope. When a person experiences a feeling of strong loneliness and hopelessness, their mind literally breaks, and their Soul literally hardens, resulting in the creation of Mask Shards. The bugs of the Ancient Civilisation might have known this.
Kinda edgy.
I like it.
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houseboywife · 1 year ago
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The primordial serpents of Dark Souls: there is something under the surface
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Kingseeker Frampt and Darkstalker Kaathe are two characters that I would define as quite nebulous. Only appearing in person in Dark Souls 1, their presence nonetheless is felt even in future installments. But what exactly is their deal? It's a rather difficult question to answer, for a simple reason: they can't be trusted. At all. This post isn't gonna be a sort of unified theory on who the serpents exactly are: however I'll try to compile most of the information we know and can infer about them and why there's way, way more to them than what meets the eye. Waaaaay more. Yeah this is gonna be a long post. VERY long. But, in my humble opinion, quite thought provoking. Disclaimer: probably not all of the following was intended by the writers. But you know, death of the author and all. I think it's fun to speculate and create meaning even where there might be move.
That said, let's start with the Serpent Species.
Besides Frampt and Kaathe, the Dark Lord ending of Dark Souls 1 (which we'll get back to later) shows us a large number of Primordial Serpents, so we can assume that there's a whole species of them. Maybe. It's never brought up again. Nonetheless, there are several things we can infer about the Serpents in general, or World Snakes as they're known in japanese.
First off, presumably, they're ancient. Duh. How ancient? From the age before the First Flame, possibly. In Dark Souls 3, the description for the Covetous Silver Serpent Ring reads as follows:
A silver ring depicting a snake that could have been, but never was, a dragon.
Interesting. So snakes (or at least some of them) are some sort of imperfect, malformed dragons. Additionally, Dark Souls 3 shows some statues depicting a more humanoid version of the Serpents, of which we can ordinarily only see their heads. Considering their depictions are very different to each other, I'm assuming it's just an artistic interpretation and the sculptors didn't actually know what they looked like. However, one should note the locations of these statues: the Grand Archive (probably connected to Seath's Duke's Archives) and the Ringed City ("gifted" by Gwyn to the Pygmy Lords).
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Now, let us talk about Frampt.
That Kingseeker Frampt is lying to you isn't exactly a groundbreaking fact. After all, this close confidant of Gwyn is in cahoots with him regarding the prophecy of a Chosen Undead, a made up folk story to get some poor undead bastard to throw themselves in the fire in order to kindle it once needed. This is all bullshit obviously, there's no such thing as the prophecy and the kindling of the fire is an unnatural sin performed by Gwyn. This means that Frampt is manipulating you with incomplete information in order to get you to link the Flame. One would assume that this would be his ultimate goal.
Or is it?
There are several odd things about Frampt.
For starters, as mentioned before, the Dark Lord Ending. In it, when you refuse to link the fire, Kaathe (we'll talk about him later) makes a point to say that both he and Frampt will now serve you. Why would Frampt do that? You could speculate that he's bound by some sort of oath to the Dark Lord, perhaps because of his nature as a quasi-dragon born in the dark. This could maybe explain the statue of him found in the Ringed City. But by this point, everyone that could be considered his "superior" is dead, and I'm not sure why he would have any obligations to serve you: if he feared being killed by the Dark Lord, well, he could just hide. Perhaps his oath is more fundamental, and he can't go against the Dark Lord because of the very nature of his being. Maybe he allied to Lord Gwyn to try and break this shackle? Perhaps. But I suspect, once again, that there's more to it.
Let's take a look at a very strange mechanic: feeding Frampt.
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In Dark Souls 1, you can feed certain items to Frampt, and he'll pay you back with souls. Usually this is not really worth it, because he undervalues items a lot. However, here's the curious thing: for some items, he will only give you a meager 1 soul, while for others he will reward you with a bounty much higher than the value of the item. This is not a mistake, it's hardcoded in, so hey, it should have some significance. Let's look at these outliers.
Frampt will give you 1 soul for anything that has to do with either Seath the Scaleless or Smough; conversely, he will reward you handomely for anything that has to do with Gwyn (soul included), Gwyndolin (soul included), the Moonlight Butterfly, Dragons, Queelag and, funnily enough, women armor sets. So huh, let's unpack this.
It's the women's clothing, believe it or not, that provide some insight. Given that he pays you more for it, I'm assuming that he gives you more souls as a reward for bringing him that item. Either that or he's a misogynist, but I'm more leaning towards horny. And certainly the Soul of Gwyn, the one he pays you the most for, fits: your objective was to kill the crazed Gwyn, and his Soul proves that you've done it. You can't actually feed him it without going to ng+, but hey, it's a technical limitation
With Gwyndolin things start becoming a little bit strange. To have his Soul, you must have killed him. This is a problem for a few reasons: first off, it's his best friend's son. Why would he be happy about you killing him? Secondly, killing him means dispelling the Anor Londo illusion, meaning finding out that the Gods, and him, are lying to you. Now why would he be ok with you knowing that?
The Moonlight Butterfly is a bit strange, since it was created by Seath, but it seems to be connected in some way to Gwyndolin (the moon theming plus the same music). I don't think it's terribly relevant anyway.
Queelag, I have no clue about, epecially considering the fact that he gives no special reward for the Soul of the Witch of Izalith. It could either be because she's guarding the second bell of awakening or because she's hot. Probably cause she's hot.
Now, let's look at a strange thing. He gives nothing for Seath but a lot for the Dragons. Seath betrayed the Dragons, so this is relevant. But how? If he dislikes Seath, this would imply that he's on the dragon's side. But this cannot be, since the dragons and Gwyn are enemies. Maybe he just likes to consume dragon items in an attempt to become a full fledged dragon: this would also be strange considering his allegiance. Maybe he just enjoys eating dragon items but dislikes the taste of Seath (who is physiologically pretty different from other dragons). This, however, would imply that he also enjoyed eating Gwyn and Gwyndolin. Which, frankly, I find the most likely possibility, with interesting implications.
As for Smough, let's be honest, he probably tastes like shit.
Let's move on to Kaathe.
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Darkstalker Kaathe seems to be, at the same time, more and less trustworthy than Frampt. More trustworty because he's the one to tell you about the lies of Gwyn, and the truth about the Dark Soul. And he's not lying to you about that. At the same time, he convinced the Lords of New Londo do embrace the Darkness, as well as the people of Oolacile to dig up the corpse of a Pygmy which didn't end very well.
Not much else is known about him: a somewhat obscure fact is that he considers Seath the Scaleless to be a traitor: so, it seems, he's aligned with the dragons despite not being one. What this says about the other Serpent is hard to tell.
However, one last thing is known about him. He wants to let the Flame die, and make the world turn back to an Age of Dark.
Or does he?
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The Sable Church, helmed by Yuria of Londor, is an organization devoted to a single goal: usurp the Flame and bring forth an age not of Light or Dark, but of Hollows. This is different from an Age of Dark in several ways. First off, the Flame persists, but is claimed by an individual who is both Unkindled (that is someone who attempted to link the Flame but failed) and Hollow. In an Age of Dark, with the Flame gone, it is unclear what would happen: it is called many times "the age of humanity", but no one actually knows what humanity's original, primordial form is: for all we know, it could just be an existence spent in a formless void as wandering spirits.
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At the same time, nothing says that it couldn't be an utopia: but the point is that you can't know, there is an impassable veil that hides its true nature until it happens. At some point some embers will reappear from the Dark again, and bring forth a new age of Fire. But will it be a good one? Who knows. In comparison usurping the Flame is much more straightforward: similar to the current Age of Fire, except it's Hollows that hold power and not Gods. It is not clear how sentient would Hollows be in such an age, considering their usual zombie-like behavior, but since hollowing is tied to Gwyn linking humanity to the Flame we can presume that something would change, otherwise it would be quite a shitty age and idk why they would pursue it.
There's another thing about the Sable Church. From item descriptions and dialogue it is evident that they worship none other than Darkstalker Kaathe, who appears to have perished since the first game (there's a theory I like about it but this post is already long enough).
Now hold on, hold on. Doesn't Kaathe want to bring forth an Age of Dark? Where did Frampt go in all of this? What is going on?
Let's take a step back. If Kaathe wasn't lying to the Sable Church (and I don't believe he is) then he was lying to you in the first game. Not an unlikely prospect, since Frampt was doing the same thing. But why try and get you to be the Dark Lord if what he was looking for was a Lord of Hollows?
First off let's establish something. No matter which ending you pick in Dark Souls 1, I don't believe that an Age of Dark ever happens between that game and 3. This is because there seems to be a linear continuity (somehwat) between the eras the game is set in, which wouldn't be possible if, well, the cycle underwent a big reset. So even if you become Dark Lord, something happens to stop a true Age of Dark from happening.
With that out of the way, here's what I think. When is the only time that a Lord of Hollows can arise? Only when the world is in shambles due to the strain of the artificial cycle taken to its extreme. How do you get to that point? By continously linking the Flame and making it fight the Abyss over and over, purposefully feeding the feud between Light and Dark that should have already ended long ago, slowly weakening the Flame until it is just barely able to hold on and the entire world has been burned to ashes. At that point the Lords of Cinders arise from their graves to link it again, and again and again, until even them refuse to do it. At this point, the Unkindled will rise: after an endless, purposeful cycle of stirring both the Flame and the Abyss.
Flame and Abyss. Frampt and Kaathe.
I want to show something, now. An interesting little design on an otherwise unremarkable shield. The caduceus round shield.
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Two serpents heads, joined at the body. Now, is there any reason to presume that this shield is a true depiction of the nature of Frampt and Kaathe, some sort of bicephalous Ourobouros? Well, we don't know. It would certainly make some amount of sense, however. What I think is that, no matter how literally true this is, it shows at least metaphorically the relationship of the two Serpents. They're working together.
You're not the only undead that they contact, after all. Plenty more people, like you, in your world and parallel ones, are spurred by Frampt to link the Flame and by Kaathe to let it die. This is why neither of them particularly cares about you finding out the truth, or joining the other. You're just a disposable pawn in the grand scheme. When a Dark Lord arise, they pretend to worship them, only to betray them at the last second, getting someone else to kindle the Flame and keep the cycle going. Over, and over again. Till the Unkindled finally rise.
There are, of course, some open questions. Why do they want an age of Hollows to come to pass? Perhaps it is linked to their complicated relationship with dragons: after all, they're only incomplete dragons, and they would hardly have a place in an Age of Dark. Perhaps it has something to do with a promise made to the first Pygmies. Or then again, perhaps to defend against them. And then, what about the other Serpents? Are they working with them? Are they from other worlds? Are they all joined in some sort of giant eldrich hydra, its true body hidden from sight?
It is all very complicated, frankly. We probably will never know the true motives of the Serpents, as well as their nature: however, what I hope this analysis has made clear is that there is much, much more under the surface than what it seems like. Like their body. That's literally under the surface.
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