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mechanicalinertia · 2 years

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STMPD Recommends Bubblegum Crisis Fanfiction: Mike Breen's Father's Pride, Mother's Passion

You know, I wonder if I should tag this with Highlander... eh, nah, wouldn't make a difference. Anyway.

I read Father's Pride, Mother's Passion over the course of several months, really. The first two parts in a burst around New Year's 2022, then I just came back to part 3 and just finished it. It was worth it. Undoubtedly. Perhaps the ending struggles to find its feet for a bit, perhaps you can see the author changing his mind as to where he wants the story to go somewhat last minute, but even so this story continues Death and Life's tradition of being insanely good on every relevant level. Even story beats I don't usually like in other stories I like here.

For context: You can read my original review of D&L here, and access the pages for both these stories (and a few sidestories I haven't read yet) here.

So. Where to start? Well, I'm going to start with the epilogue's author's note, because it says a lot about what FPMP is:

"I got very positive reactions to "Death & Life," and many people asked if I was going to write a sequel. I wracked my brains a bit to figure out where to go with a story, or even if I wanted to. As far as I was concerned, "D&L" was a complete entity, and when I finished it, I didn't really think it needed a sequel. Priss was Immortal, she was the good guy, eventually she'd whack Quincy. Plus the fact I wanted to go back to writing straight HL stories. Simple, ne?"

"Not really. The more requests for a sequel that came in, the more I began to seriously think of one. And the more I think, the more in trouble I get. Many people on a.f.bgcrisis know about my dissatisfaction with BGCrash, and how I felt there was a good story lurking somewhere beneath the crap if only the date was pushed up a year and some explanations were made for the discrepancies between the BGC characters and their BGCrash selves. Oh, yeah, Quincy and GENOM had to be central to the plot again with a suitable explanation for their absence from everyday Megatokyo life, Largo needed to be ejected from the plot entirely, the ADP slacker attitude had to disappear, the hinted-at-in-ep-7 relationship between Leon and Priss needed to be consummated, and Adama had to be severely rethought. Hey, cool. I'll rewrite BGCrash the way I thought it should go. Originally, I was going to write a straight BGC story within the same cycle, but with little or no HL influence beyond Priss' rapid healing and inability to have kids."

"Then they cloned that damn sheep..."

So, yeah, cloning had just been done with Dolly, and that was an inspiration. The desire to see Crash done better was another inspiration. Both good things to draw from.

Anyway, yeah. The story is told as a flashback from four hundred years after BGC, after the rest of the Sabers are long dead, where Priss's Watcher interviews her about the events assumed to be Crash. Of course Priss says that what we know as Crash was cooked up as fabrication by Sylia to hide a far stranger Immortal-related truth (how coy, Mister Breen, how coy) and from there the plot kicks off hard. Priss is friends with a fellow Immortal Patrick happens to know from the bad old days in the nineties, she's started to develop her own label alongside said immortal to help finance less idol-y acts like her own -- and then Sylia comes back into town by just emailing Nene (instead of doing some tomfoolery with hacking a game center) and they've got a new set of jobs - and yet, and yet, Sylia isn't afraid to admit the other Sabers are getting older, and that there's no shame in swapping out the old members for new ones over time. This is a running theme, really: winding down the Sabers instead of destroying them in a blaze of glory. Which even Priss, much mellowed by having killed two other Immortals in the last fic, is down with.

So that means shacking up with Leon, and it means trying to get custody of Sho. And, uh, the scene where Priss explains to Sho that she's an immortal is the cutest thing in the whole goddamn world, I am not joking, it's not even close.

But evil never rests. Quincy and Madigan have some seriously diabolical plans tied to Immortality, and they involve planned blackouts, a different kind of MacGuffin, the Illegal Army, and Adama - no, not the Adama you're thinking of. Something infinitely stranger and more twisted, and uh, tied to the themes of the story, about whether or not Immortals can have normal lives given their supernatural status.

Now, despite loose pacing and plenty of scenes of characters just talking, of the ever-closer bond between the Sabers and Patrick O'Brien, I really like everything that happens. It all happens for a reason, see (and it also justifies Nene going full savage for a moment there), there are a few good hardsuit fight scenes against the Illegal Army, and it all builds up until the end of Part 2. Part 3, though, is when it stumbles. The hardsuited showdown we've been building up to, we just don't get. We get some killings, both of two people we care about and of one person you're probably going to want dead by that point, but it doesn't feel satisfying. The only death that cuts deep is - well, you'll see for yourself. Suffice to say that even with poor execution (heh) in that last part, Father's Pride, Mother's Passion ultimately sticks the landing and succeeds at being the kind of story it wants to be, at once triumphant and tragic, the best kind of stuff.

Did I mention all of Priss's parts of the story are told from first-person POV? It's a nice touch, especially since it helps convey how much of a better-balanced person Priss is compared to the original anime, and compared to most fanfic including my own. Another positive quality.

Supposedly there was to be a final part where Priss finally killed Quincy, but it never came about. Fine, it was made clear it would happen some day. And what we've got is still worth a good readthrough. Seriously, give this one a go. If you've read Death and Life, and you want more of that, you will not regret it.

#stmpd reviews bgc fanfic #bubblegum crisis #fanfiction #bgc #fanfic rec

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maximuswolf · 16 days

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Cyberpunk 2077 is a way better game than The Witcher 3!

Cyberpunk 2077 is a way better game than The Witcher 3! Cyberpunk 2077 is way better than The Witcher 3I very much prefer cyberpunk, but The Witcher 3 is still a pretty good game. Cyberpunk w/ dlc: 9.5/10 Witcher 3 +dlc : 7/10You can tell there were more people involved in the making/development of cyberpunk. It's truly an amazing world to explore. This may be a pet peeve with The Witcher 3, but so many of the characters are gross looking, dirty, always hocking up phlegm, and coughing. How many people can possibly be sick? Like half the population? Their faces are badly designed, and the world just isn't made as well imo. The cutscenes aren't as interesting for me. (In cyberpunk, the cutscenes are almost interactive, which is really cool) The way the characters in W3 speak is just odd at times(not saying the writing is poor, it's actually arguably good, just not my thing for some reason). The combat is way better in CP as well. I actually have a ton of fun during action sequences, where as in the W3 they're mehhh. The stealth/pistol/hacking style of play in the CP is soo cool. You can also play the game how you want to play it, unlike in W3The artwork is infinitely better in CP. The colors glowing everywhere you go is wonderful(especially the server rooms/ command line screens everywhere). W3 is like a bunch of brick buildings and shacks/hovels. The wind constantly blowing in the trees looks unnatural and odd. The interiors of the W3 all looked the same! The clothing is kinda bad in both games, but I still prefer CPs. Those caps/hats in the W3 are so ugly lol(Also you can't sleep/own property in W3, so Ifeel less immersion)I like fantasy and cyberpunk/sci fi equally btw. Not intended to offend, just wanted to get some thoughts down and see what people think. Thanks Submitted September 06, 2024 at 08:39PM by KnightofAmethyst2 https://ift.tt/COE7RzT via /r/gaming

#reddit

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scottfraserphotography · 1 year

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The Pursuit of The Sound

By Scott Fraser

April 04, 2023

In a place far, far away, in a time long, long ago musicians pursued a quest for the search of what was referred to as “The Sound”. It started somewhere in the late 1950’s. During the 1960’s musicians around the globe would tweak, hack, and modify their guitars, amplifiers, microphones and even begin the creation of effect pedals in pursuit of “The Sound”. Each musician had their own idea of what exactly the sound really was, and what it meant to them. Recording studios, sound engineers, guitar techs and even artists from other fields contributed to this pursuit. The album Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys is perhaps the greatest example of this during the 1960’s. Everyone from The Beatles to The Who to individuals such as Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page, Toni Iommie went to great lengths to produce their version of The Sound.

Maybe it was the drugs these artists were consuming. Maybe it was the technology that was emerging. Maybe it was the changing of the social constructs of the era. Whatever the reason music became something that would dominate western society. The impacts were scene and heard everyone - from fashion, to art such as paintings, photography and the graphic arts, movies and television, even the political ideals of the time were impacted.

Corporations were also parts of this pursuit as they were not immune to the quest for The Sound. Companies such as Marshall Amplifiers, Shure, Tascam, AKAI, and Foster would refocus their corporate goals to align themselves with the artists. On the home front corporations such as Yamaha, Marantz, Sony, Pioneer, Rotel, JVC and Techniques would join in on this quest by producing home audio equipment that was based in professional studio audio engineering equipment. Out with the basic mono single tube under 5 watt home stereo equipment and in with the high end hi fidelity equipment.

The seventies would see the peak of this pursuit on the one audio front. The drive by engineers and geeks to reproduce to the frequency and exact note without distortion, the exact sound that the musicians had mastered in the studio became the defining goal. Every company had their own idea how to achieve this and some did it better than others. The seventies saw the rise of the home multi-channel equalizer, the home cassette player, high-end turn tables, multi-channel multi-speaker home amplifiers, pre-amps and a whole slew of tech that would enable the home listening to experience what the musician had intended when they recorded it.

Brand loyalty became a thing. Brand snobbery soon followed. Unknown to most who laid down their hard earned cash for high-end equipment, a large percentage of gear was actually made by only a few companies. C.E.C. manufactured audio equipment for companies including Marantz, Sony, Toshiba, Alpine, Teac, Kenwood and Grundig. Others such as Foster produced studio, recording and high-end home audio components for companies such as Realistic (yeah, Radio Shack). And yet others were rebrand to in-house brands such as LXI (for Sears) which in fact were produced by Pioneer. Magazines emerged to educate and inform the public, as well as a means to generate revenue and showcase the latest and greatest home equipment. Manufactures in turn upped the game by producing home equipment that were pieces of art in their aesthetic beauty.

Home stereo equipment went from costing tens of dollars to thousands of dollars. Out with the big console pieces which were as much furniture as audio device, in with equipment that looked like it belonged in a rack in a recording studio. Out with just a volume and tuning (radio) dials, in with a multitude of dials and switches that enabled the home user to have mastery over everything from High’s and Lows, loudness control, bass and treble control, etc. By the end of the 1970’s you could spend as much on a home stereo as you could a well equipment automobile of the era.

The early eighties was the end of the visually artistically stunning home units (unless one was buying uber high end brands such as McIntosh). By the mid-eighties tubes had been replaced by solid state and computers and embedded chipsets were integrated into home stereo equipment as the “home theatre” became a thing. The mini-system was born, bookshelf speakers became a thing, and the CD had been born and began to replace the warm rich sound of vinyl.

It wasn’t that the tech had become that much better, it was that modern systems were cheaper to produce. CDs were way way cheaper to produce than vinyl. Like many things, profits became more important in the end to the corporations than producing quality old school gear. The solid wood cases with shiny steel and alloy polished fronts were replaced with black everything, including as much plastic as was possible. The glow of lights on dials and the radio dial were replaced with cold digital digits.

In 1988 CDs outsold vinyl. Like reel to reel tapes and 8-track tapes, vinyl was on the way out. The modern computer chipset home amplifiers focused more on things like replicating the sound of this or that music hall, and less on sounding like what the musicians mastered in the recording studio.

Thankfully there were geeks, hackers, and music lovers who refused to compromise on sound quality and the under-ground era of “vintage sound” began. From flea markets to thrift stores purists searched high and low for older equipment, often restoring them to their former glory. Repairing and restoring music components from decades gone by became a hobby. With some basic soldering skills one could restore a high end amp for pennies, and the unit was normally acquired for little to no money as people gave them away or sold them at garage sales. Boxes of records could be had for free as they were left on the street as people gave them away as they had transitioned to CDs.

Like many of my Generation X peers I held onto to my vinyl. I shopped at used record stores. I recused boxes of records from people downsizing. To my ears vinyl has always sounded better. As someone who has spent his fair share in recording studios and jam spaces with bands as they record and practice I appreciate the warmth that digital music has never held. I bought one of the last series of turntables from the Sony store in Bonnie Doon mall in 1994 as a friend working there at the time advised me that it was the last model Sony was making. I still have that turntable. It’s mated to an early Yamaha Natural Sound amp that was designed to do one thing and one thing only - play music load and clear - no Dobly, no theatre modes, just play music clear and with power. The amp in turn is connected to two mid-seventies JBL loud speakers. The amp is new enough to have a CD selector and old enough to have tape 1, tape 2 and phone as well. There is nothing wrong with it. It’s not black, but it isn’t polished alloy. It has a digital dial for AM/FM, not the old school dial with lights of the earlier models. It’s case is all alloy, no wood. It has brought me countless hours of joy and happiness. It’s the amp my children grew up experiencing classic rock records being played through. I still remember the day I bought it and what I first played it through it (The Ramones for the record, no pun intended).

I didn’t grow up with high end audiophile equipment in the family home. Yes my father purchased an LXI system in 1984 (I was never allowed to touch the family unit have blown a speaker when I was younger), but prior to that the family owned the ever common all in one (8-track, record player and AM/FM receiver) from Consumers Distributing. In my room I had a similar system except mine had a cassette deck, and not an 8-track. Quality of sound, pure clean replication of music was not what these units were about. I think it took me two weeks to blow one of my speakers when I got it for Christmas from Santa Clause at the age of 11 (thanks mom). As a result of said blown speaker I began my hobby or repairing building speakers. Radio Shack was my best friend during this era. One could score high quality tweeters and woofers for pennies on the dollars compared to the brand name stuff that I so couldn’t afford. I learned how to solder. I learned how to swap out capacitors and such in order to build my home-grown version of a high end speaker. I learned why speaker wire thickness was important as well as keeping the runs even length and as short as possible.

Ever year I would grab the newest Radio Shack catalog when it came out. I’d spend too much time hanging out there and asking questions. I also became a pest at the high-end stereo sales stores. I dreamed of one day owning one of those pieces or art that could produce that beautiful warm sound I knew existed.

My Uncle Jimmy was the first to own an audiophile quality home system. In 1983 he purchased a full AKAI system after a settlement paid out (he had been hit by a drunk driver and barely lived). Jimmy was more than happy to let me use his system. He taught me all about it. He even sent to me with the manuals for each component so that I would truly understand how it worked. He’d let me bring over my records to hear them on that beautiful and expensive system. To this day I still have a sentimental attachment to the vintage AKAI systems.

In my bedroom as a thirteen year old I would look through the Radio Shack catalog and circle what I wanted. The folks at RS would list setups from good, to better, to best - they would also mate components together and show the buyer how much they would save buying all together at once VS buying individually. Not that my parents or Santa Clause was ever going to buy me said home setup but I could dream.

The older we get the more sentimental we become. At least this has been my observation. For the past few years I have been keeping my eye on FB Marketplace as well as the local Used goods website watching for a pre-80’s Yamaha or Marantz (or maybe get lucky and see an AKAI system). This late winter (late January 2023) an AKAI amplifier (AM-2400) and receiver came up on FB Marketplace. I clicked the Save button on the ad and told myself if it was still there come by birthday in April I would make an offer. Last week I made my offer only to find out it had sold. Dave G replied that he had a Realistic STA-960 in cherry condition and sent photos. It was beautiful. Visuals and aesthetic are really important to me but this is an amp, how would it sound? So I started my research on said amplifier. Sources I trust in the audiophile community ranked it better than a Marantz 2045 which is an amp I know well, and it was being offered at half to a third of the price. Dave then mentioned he has the matching turntable and loudspeakers for it. My research indicated it was in the higher end range of Radio Shack offerings and manufactured by Foster (whom I respect).

Time to make arrangements to go view and hear it. When I arrived at Dave’s place the first thing I noticed was the two Volvos. I smiled, because myself I am also a Volvo fan. My gut right then and there told me I could trust this guy.

It was beyond beautiful to look at and sounded even better mated to the matched loud speakers. The silver finish makes the unit look far more expensive than it really is, and the solid metal knobs feel like they were machined with precision. What makes it really work is the beveled glass front cover which allows the warm orange glow of the tuner dial and meters to really stand out. I turned the lights off multiple times just to enjoy the effect. The large solid metal volume dial has a notch to each point on the faceplate giving a very satisfying tactical feel when adjusting the volume. From the local FM station to Black Sabbath’s Paranoid (first pressing) it was everything an audiophile could hope for.

For my 53rd birthday I purchased the amp I had stared at in that 1981 Radio Shack catalog all those times as a child. I’ll be picking up the matching turntable and speakers in the weeks to come. I have no idea when I’ll be able to set up the whole system as currently the speakers won’t work in my current space, but I have a pair of bookshelf which should be fine. The first album that will be played on it will be my recently acquired first pressing of Iron Maiden’s Somewhere In Time.

Who says dreams can’t come true?

PS: In the infamous words of Darby Mills (and the Headpins) Turn it Loud

#audiophile #realistic #STA-960 #SFP #ScottFraserPhotography #ChildhoodDreams #TheSound #Music #stereo #VintageAmp #vintage stereo #1981 #RealisticSTA-960 #Vinyl

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upismediacenter · 2 years

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LITERARY: S.O.S.

The world was spinning around Janus. His legs stumbled and gave way as his eyes filled with a haze of pain. The forest he was traveling through was more dangerous than he thought. He forced himself to focus on the creatures that put him in such a precarious position —giant lizards with monstrous teeth and long sharp claws. Beasts of pure malice, any attempt to destroy them only led to his robes getting torn to shreds. As he fell to the ground, the vicious monsters converged around him, gaping maws ready to devour their prey. With the last of his strength, he stood up and snapped his fingers, blue electricity surrounding him as he teleported meters away.

Thomas sighed as his character hid from the lizards again. Hiding in the ruins of a nearby shack, he waited for his character’s health to replenish. It seemed like Janus just couldn’t get past this level, no matter what magic Thomas used. He had tried a direct assault, summoning a giant fireball to burn them. He had tried sneaking past them with illusion magic too. Nothing seemed to work. He told his friends that he could complete the level without them, but he was stuck.

“It’s already 10:30,” he said, “maybe I should get some rest.”

He was about to stand up from his computer desk when a sudden ping grabbed his attention. It was a notification from the game's multiplayer chat system. Janus would like to start a conversation with you, it read. Confused, Thomas clicked to accept. Once he accepted the invitation, he saw that the other person was using his account.

“Was I hacked?” he asked himself. Then he saw that the other player was typing. He waited for about a minute until a message appeared.

I don’t think we can do this alone, Thomas, it said.

Thomas furrowed his brows. He was on a private server, and there was no way that anyone could have seen him failing the level over and over for 10 hours.

“Who are you?” he typed. Could this be a new feature? Or was it someone playing a prank on him? Whatever the case, he nervously waited for the reply.

When it came, he couldn't believe what he was reading.

It’s me, Janus.

Thomas stared at his screen. Janus was there, waving his arms and trying to get his player’s attention.

“You’re alive?” Thomas asked, hoping that this was a prank.

I think so. All I’m sure of is that we can’t fight the lizards alone.

Thomas was utterly puzzled. He wasn’t sure if this was a rare easter egg triggered by failing this level multiple times, but he wasn’t going to let his character boss him around. Alive or not, Janus can’t change the fact that he wasn’t ready to play with his friends.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m determined to finish this by myself. We’ll get past it. Eventually.”

He looked at Janus again. The tall elven wizard had his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Thomas was now 50% convinced that his character was truly and secretly alive. After a few seconds, another message popped up, and Janus pointed at the chat. Hands trembling, Thomas read what Janus wrote.

I have access to your friends list, you know. All of them are online. Two of them have strong characters that could take the damage while we deal with the enemy. The other two have access to healing spells. I think we’d be able to take on the monsters if you all worked together.

Weirdly, sentient Janus was right. Dealing with the level would be much easier if he wasn’t playing alone. But still, Thomas wasn’t sure if being around his friends was a good idea. He didn’t know how to explain that to Janus.

“I just don’t want to bother them right now,” he typed, “is that so hard to understand?”

He looked at the screen as he hit send. He saw Janus frown upon receiving the message. Seconds later, Janus sent his reply, still looking concerned. How could a digital sprite look so worried?

Is there something going on? Why don’t you want to play with them?

Thomas sighed. He might as well be honest with Janus. After all, he is just a video game character, and who else could Janus talk to on a private server?

“I haven’t seen them since the lockdown. When it started, my friends started doing all these cool things. And me? I just got sad and did nothing. I realized that I wasn’t as well-adjusted as they were. So I decided to learn how to be on my own. I didn’t want to be a bummer.”

After he sent that message, he could see that Janus was taking the time to read and reply.

“He probably thinks I’m being dumb,” he said, “I obviously can’t do this on my own anyway.” Ping! Janus had finally sent his message.

Learning to be independent isn’t bad, but there’s also nothing wrong with reaching out to people when you need help. I don’t know much about the outside world, but I know that it must be pretty bad out there if a lockdown was happening. So cut yourself some slack, okay?

“Do I deserve some slack?” Thomas mused. “I’m not as good as them. They’re all much better and much cooler people.”

He looked back at his computer and saw that Janus was still waiting for an answer.

“But what if they’re only friends with me because they pity me?” he typed. “What if they don’t really care about me?”

Thomas’s mind was starting to swirl. Thoughts he tried to forget now had free rein in his turmoil.

Your friends don’t like you. Why would they want to spend time with a guy like you?

The thoughts snowballed into an avalanche of negativity, burying everything else. Thankfully, a ping from Janus shook him from his spiral.

Based on the hours you spent playing together, I know that’s probably not true. People don’t voluntarily spend 15 hours a week with someone they dislike. And that’s not even mentioning the chat history between all of you.

“You think so?” Thomas asked, “But I feel like I’m wasting their time.”

Just talk to them. Talk about what you’re feeling. Maybe speak to a professional about the thoughts you’re having.

Thomas blinked. How was Janus giving decent advice?

“Thank you, Janus, though I can’t understand how you know what to do.”

Janus shrugged, looking directly at Thomas. Ping! Another message.

That’s because you already know what to do, Thomas. You just needed a push.

Thomas blinked again. But when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t sitting upright anymore. Instead, his head was leaning on his arms, using them like cushions.

“I was asleep! So that means —”

He checked his computer. There stood Janus, unmoving without his input.

“Maybe I should get some proper sleep,” he said, rubbing his tired eyes.

He started to make his way toward the bed but stumbled to his computer. He saw that all his friends were on server one and decided to join them quickly.

He opened the chat and typed. “Hey, guys! I need to go to bed, but I’ll be able to play tomorrow. Tbh, I need help with the lizards.”

“Alright! Sleep well, dude! Let’s catch up tomorrow, ok?”

Thomas smiled. He might get past this level after all.

#MC2023 #MainCharacter #literary #english #Jaina

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king-dail · 3 years

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Baoh Minecraft Headcanons

Walken (Username: The_Carnage_Warrior)

- Walken is SMART he would pimp out his place in a matter of hours while Ikuro is still in his dirt cave - Only comes up from his mine when he has a full inventory (He also has at least one 64 stack of diamonds) - Finds diamonds in his first hour on a new world. Absolute chad - Could speedrun the game if he wants to, but doesn't - Constantly challenges Ikuro to PvP's, but is always rejected - Gets really mad when Ikuro doesn't wanna fight - Is neutral to redstone. He can do it, but he doesn't see the point - Only speaks in voice chat to roast ppl

Sumire (Username: CodeCrackingCrayon24)

- Sumire bugs Ikuro to change the difficulty to peaceful whenever she wants to go and mine (Spoiler alert: He always caves in) - Her house is like one of those hobbit houses (She definitely looked up inspiration from google) - Collects flowers and animals - Has a dog with a brown collar named after Nottsuo - Makes sick ass murals with stained glass - Definitely makes memes and puts them on maps to fuck with Ikuro - She is in charge of all the decoration since she and Ikuro live together (Last time Ikuro tried to decorate he put snow everywhere) - Ikuro once fell into powder snow and nearly died. Dorudo laughed but nobody else did. As punishment, Sumire put powder snow all over his house and watched him freeze while screeching in chat - Likes redstone and is really good at it - Talks about her day in voice chat

Dorudo (Username: Xx_CyborgSniperDorudo_xX)

- Tries to snipe Ikuro when he's afk - DEFINITELY griefs ppl - His inventory consists of arrows and a single bow - Lives in a dirt house - Has had Walken fuck up his shit more than once - Uses hacks - Basically that friend nobody likes - Snipes monsters when he isn't trying to make life worse for everybody else - Tried to PvP Ikuro once but got his ass beaten so badly he's now reduced to attempting to shoot him with arrows from afar - Once while trying to snipe Ikuro he fell off a cliff, resulting in 1) his untimely doom and 2) everybody laughing at him via chat - He's not very well respected anymore - Refuses to touch redstone with a 10 foot long pole after a particularly nasty incident involving tnt and gravel - Gets bullied in voice chat

Ikuro (Username: SocialParasite89)

- He isn't shit at the game, but he isn't terribly great either - Mostly does farming and mining, but his real skill is fighting - However, he doesn't like to fight unless it's absolutely necessary - Has considered switching his gamemode to creative so he can give all his animals nametags - Has a massive farm and makes sure he has least one 64 stack of bread - If you were to come up and ask him for food he'd gladly give it to you - He puts signs EVERYWHERE. Some of them are actual markers for locations but most of them are just little messages like "walken is cool" and "tell nottsuo hi for me sumire :)" - Uses chat the most out of everyone and does those little chat emojis (Like B), O_O, >:)c, so on and so forth) - Goes afk often due to being called by his parents - Does most of the food making - Also breaks into ppls houses to put food in their chests and leaves (Dorudo fucking hates this, Walken could literally care less, and Aya thinks it's cute) - Sucks absolute shit at Redstone - Goes into voice chat and just talks about whatever

Aya (Username: Ac1d-Tra1n47)

- Aya's house is like right next to Ikuro's - Is more willing to throw hands than Ikuro (Basically the "He said he wanted NO pickles!" meme) - Sniped the shit out of Dorudo after the powder snow incident - Is also really good with redstone - Teamed up with Sumire and nuked Dorudo's dirt shack multiple times - Is absolute besties with Sumire - Listens to Die In A Fire by the Living Tombstone while stealing all of Dorudo's shit - Remixes songs with noteblocks - Gets on voice chat and immediately puts on MAD RAT PURGATORY while Dorudo screams in rage

Bonus: Baoh (Username: Same as Ikuro’s)

- Tries to type "Baro" but ends up keysmashing instead - Turns it's mouse sensitivity really high - Doesn't know what redstone is - When it's in voice chat the only thing that can be heard is "BAROO BAROBARO BAROOOOO"

Even Bonuser: Nottsuo

- Doesn't play Minecraft

#baoh #nottsuo #sumire #dorudo #ikuro hashizawa #aya baoh #sumire baoh #dorudo baoh #walken #walken baoh #my stuff #headcanons #nottsuo baoh #baoh the visitor

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dalekofchaos · 3 years

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Friday The 13th sequel idea:Part XIII:Camp Blood

The best way in my opinion to make a new Friday The 13th, is to unite the majority of the survivors against Jason.

If this fucking lawsuit(fuck you Sean S Cunningham, pay Victor what you fucking owe him) ever ends, this is what I’d love to see as a final sequel.

First, yes this is Part XIII because I consider the remake to be good enough to be in line with canon, just retcon the opening and Jason finding the hockey mask and Jason keeping Whitney alive because she reminds him of his mom.

So my suggestion for a final sequel is this. Tommy Jarvis knows Jason is still out there. He plans to search and bring together everyone who’s ever survived Jason Voorhees. His plan is for everyone to pose as Camp Counselors as Camp Crystal Lake is reopened and lure Jason so they can all kill Jason and end the nightmare once and for all.

Before I continue on the survivors, here is the following things I would love to see in this final Friday The 13th movie

It has to be set at Camp Crystal Lake.

It has to keep the tone from the first 4 movies.

Kane Hodder or Derek Mears must return to play Jason

Pay homage to the game by having Jason hear Pamela’s voice in his head and Jessica Lange should play her

Have Jason’s shack and shrine to Pamela make an appearance

Set it in modern day

Tom Savini does the kill effects, no CGI

Jason has his left eye missing, the axe mark on his mask and chain around his neck, to show the damage and calling cards to Part 3, 4 and 6

Show what the films never established in Jason’s flashbacks. Show Jason’s home life. Show him having a loving mother and father, who just wanted the best for him. You could even show that Elias taught Jason how to hunt and where he got his survival skills from.

Then show Jason’s survival from drowning building his shack, surviving and waiting for his mother but she never shows and we see that it was Jason who did some of the kills in the original and Jason was stalking in some scenes and Jason does watch Pamela die. This would prompt Jason to kill everyone who ever enters Camp Crystal Lake.

Tommy recruits the following

Ginny Field from Part II

Chris Higgins from Part III

His sister Trish and wife Megan Garris

Pam from Part V

Tina Shepard from Part VII

Rennie from Part VIII

Jessica and Steven from Part IX and their grown daughter Stephanie

No one from Jason X since that would be impossible

As for Lori and WIll, Jason killed them in Freddy vs Jason vs Ash

Clay and Whitney Miller from the remake

But someone that everyone never expected to see, is the one person who survived Pamela’s slaughter of Camp Blood. That’s right, it’s Alice Hardy. Here’s my reasoning. The only reason why Alice was killed off in Part II is Adrienne King dealt with real life stalkers, so I think Alice deserves to be in the final movie, plus it makes no sense whatsoever for Jason to find Alice when he never leaves Crystal Lake. SO yes, retconning Alice’s death is very much needed

There would be teens hired as counselors, so Jason has a body count to be worthy of the title. I’d say at least 13 victims, plus those unlucky survivors who happen to die.

Now I know what you’re thinking. Why are you including Pam since V is considered the black sheep of the franchise and since Jason wasn’t in it? This fan theory that suggests that Jason had a psychic connection with Pamela and Roy, thus having his presence felt throughout the franchise. Also Pam was close with Tommy.

I would say the last standing survivors would be Tommy, Megan, Ginny, Stephanie, Tina and Alice. So in total, the death count would be 21

Tina would hold down Jason with her telekinesis. Alice would jam an ice pick in Jason’s skull. Ginny would hack Jason’s limb with a pickaxe. Megan shoots him in the chest, Trish stabs him in the back, Stephanie would stab Jason in the heart and finally Tommy would decapitate Jason.

#Friday The 13th #Jason Voorhees #Horror #Tommy Jarvis #Alice Hardy #Ginny Field #Chris Higgins #Megan Garris #Tina Shepard #Rennie Wickham #Stephanie Kimble #Jessica Kimble #Steven Freeman #Trish Jarvis

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doublel27 · 2 years

Note

📓

I mentioned this to you briefly yesterday but I have an idea for an OG Roswell/Roswell NM crossover I doubt I’ll ever write. The NM crew takes Michael’s rebuilt ship and zig when they should have zagged and end up in OG verse in the West Texas desert in front of an old shack.

While Max and Michael are squabbling about whose fault it is, with the rest of the team ranging out behind them, a woman steps out of the shack with a shotgun and yells “Guerin, Evans. I don’t care whose fault it is that you crashed that Czechoslovakian hunk of junk in my front yard. Just make it disappear. Hit whatever buttons you need to make it invisible.”

There are of course the questions of who this woman is and how she knows them and she gives a relatively cryptic answer and NM Alex pegs her as Maria. And she brings them inside and sends them to the bunker underneath the shack which is covered with what the OG gang has saved as mementos.

The OG crew meets up in this cabin every so often to check in while they continue to hide from the government and the various dangers that exist.

And meanwhile Kyle has some comment about patients who will need him, and this sparks what I think is the interesting part of the story, the differences between a group where Liz gets shot in high school vs the Liz who gets shot on the eve of their ten year high school reunion. So many things would have been different for the OG crew if they hadn’t been children. And that’s part of what Maria struggles with, is this group of people who had enough resources that their Alex didn’t die and weren’t stealing blood samples and using high school chemistry labs and hacking government agencies with gaming consoles. They graduated and they have lives and means. Whereas the OG crew is on the run.

It could be fascinating. But it feels like a lot.

#my asks #doublel27 talks #writing ask game #roswell new mexico #roswell #roswell nm

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stars-a-n-d-scars · 4 years

Text

10 Days of Summer - Chapter 2

Hey guys! Here is chapter two!!! As always, constructive criticism is welcome, homophobic bitching is not. I love you!!

***

Sirius had always been an early riser. There was just something about the way the sun shot pink and orange daggers to shatter the impenetrable frost of the night that drew him. Soothed him. He couldn’t count how many mornings he had spent on the roof of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, observing a world rarely seen. Keeping the company of the moon, she who shone her light for unseeing eyes, as she slipped from dark’s cruel grasp and was liberated, to finally rest. Watching as, one by one, the stars faded into nothingness and the great eastern orb returned to claim the sky for its own. And so, it will likely come as no surprise that when we rejoin our protagonist, he is partaking in the same activity as he had every morning for the last 12 years.

The sun had a peculiar way of setting the world on fire. It was never loud or obnoxious. It didn’t burst into the sky in a shower of confetti and yell of its presence for all to hear. It seeped over the horizon, inch by inch, so that even the most attentive of onlookers could never pinpoint the exact moment that night turned to day. Sirius sat perched on the roof of the Potter’s, watching smoke from his cigarette unfurling in that inexplicable, mesmerizing way that it does. But one can only sit alone on a roof for so long before one’s mind starts to wander. In Sirius’ case, it found its way to the boy sleeping on the sofa downstairs.

He had always been drawn by Remus. From the moment they’d met, something about that awkward, scar-ridden 11-year-old had caught his eye. Maybe it was the way his timid hands had quivered when they shook hands for the first time, or the way his eyes gleamed with a type of gold that a thousand goblins couldn’t conjure. Ever since that moment, he always wanted to be around him. To be close to him. It was impossible to explain, but Sirius was under a spell that not even the most powerful wizard in the world could break.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a window creaking open. He turned around and was shocked by the sight of Remus climbing through the attic window and out onto the roof of the Potter house.

“Morning.” Remus’ morning voice never failed to take Sirius’ breath away. Simultaneously gravelly and soft, it enveloped him in what could only be described as comfort.

“Hey”, Sirius said, and it was frankly impressive how many voice cracks he managed to fit into that one, short word. Clearing his throat, the smitten boy persisted; “I thought you were afraid of heights?”

Nice one Sirius. Make him think you see him as a wimp. That’ll get him to fall in love with you.

Sirius internally cursed himself for his insensitivity, fully expecting Remus to turn right back around and go back inside out of anger. It was to his surprise, therefore, that Remus smiled and settled down next to him.

“I was. But these last few transformations… I don’t know. Every time the wolf rips me apart, I feel like I’m going to die. And so, after I changed back the last time, I decided that I wouldn’t waste whatever time I have left being scared of things that don’t matter. Because there is no way to know which full moon is going to be my last.” A heavy silence settled over the boys. As the weight of Remus’ confession sank in, Sirius found himself on the edge of tears. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t help thinking about how he would survive if Remus did die. If, one day, the blood on the floor of the shrieking shack would become too much, and they would all drown in its repercussions.

Wordlessly, Remus reached over and took hold of Sirius’ cigarette. Their fingers brushed only for a second, but it felt like forever and was over too soon. A shiver ran down Sirius’ spine at the feeling of Remus’ cold finger on his. His finger, surprisingly unmarred compared to the rest of his body, seemed to set every nerve in Sirius’ body in fire. That simple act of proximity was enough to set his heart beating at a rate that, frankly, shouldn’t be allowed.

When Remus withdrew his fingers, the cigarette perched between them, Sirius was left tingling in the small but infinite point of contact, and he vowed never to wash that hand again, lest he lose the shimmering ecstasy that the tingling brought. The situation was not improved by Remus’ decision to bring the cigarette to his lips, placing his mouth exactly where Sirius’ had been only seconds before. He took a long, languid drag from the joint, his beautiful lips perfectly shaping to exhale the smoke. Sirius marveled at how this boy could make even an act as simple as taking a puff from a cigarette seem like the most sensual, lascivious experience of his life. Sirius’ mind was flooded with obscene thoughts of what he wanted to do to those lips, what he wanted them to do to him. He felt dizzy at the thought (although that might have also had something to do with the sudden lack of blood in his head; it seemed to have decided that it was needed elsewhere).

The stillness was shattered by a hacking cough.

“Merlin, what the fuck is in this thing?” Remus exclaimed through another shuddering cough.

“It’s only a cigarette”, Sirius answered, confused.

Remus laughed. “I know that, dipshit. But why? What the fuck are you doing out here at bloody six in the morning smoking this cheap shit? Here.”

Sirius watched in bewilderment as Remus reached into his sweater pocket and withdrew a long, hand rolled joint.

“What is it?”, he asked stupidly.

Once again, he found himself blessed by the presence of Remus’ gorgeous laugh. “It’s weed. Marijuana. It’s a muggle drug.”

Sirius was skeptical. “And it’s better than cigarettes?”

“Way better. Here.”

Before Sirius had a chance to say anything, Remus was bringing the joint up to Sirius’ lips. Startled, Sirius instinctively parted them, and let the rough paper of the tip slide in. Then, Remus’ fingers skimmed his lower lip, and he was paralyzed. His mind was plunged into a world of haze, where his lip and Remus’ fingers existed alone. Where all the unsaid words were unimportant, and all that mattered was that Remus was touching him.

But something inside him realized the sheer impossibility of that dream and brought him back to reality. A reality where Remus would never love him back, because why would he? Why would an ethereal creature like Remus Lupin, with all his intangible beauty, pay any attention to a bratty pureblood who couldn’t even tell the difference between a mandrake and a spinach leaf?

Well, Sirius concluded, if this is the closest I ever get to him, I may as well make the most of it.

Sirius sighed, leaning into Remus’ touch. Memorizing the sensation of cold fingers on his skin. But Remus drew back. Sirius supposed he must have angered him with his display of intimacy, because a red flush was creeping up his neck and highlighting his cheeks.

Drawing back, Sirius cleared his throat, which was not an easy feat, due to the joint now in his mouth. When he was satisfied that an ordinary level of awkwardness had been restored between them, he lit his joint. Almost immediately, he felt a wave of relaxation wash over him. It was amazing, the sensation of every muscle in his body loosening, becoming calm. The tension was gone from his shoulders, and he couldn’t even remember why he had been worried about this in the first place. He had never felt anything better.

He felt a tug on the spliff and opened his mouth so it could slide out, the paper sticking to his lips. It was Remus, of course. He took it into those elegant, beautiful fingers and took a puff, closing his eyes as the glorious smoke entered his system. After a couple of seconds, he exhaled again, the smoke rippling through his voluptuous lips and ascending to join the clouds in their endless dance of mesmerising shapeshifting.

The rest of the morning was spent that way, sharing that slice of euphoria, tucked away on a rooftop in a tiny corner of a tiny island in a huge, huge world.

***

The sun was dipping into the west now, and James and Peter had long since engaged themselves in a fierce game of monopoly. Surprisingly, Peter was doing very well. Although James would later claim that he “let Peter win”, it was clear to see that he was severely frustrated by his lack of success. Although, his agitation might have had something to do with his anticipation of the next day; the girls had agreed to come over in the morning and stay for a couple of nights. Inevitably, James had spent many hours fretting over what to say when Lily arrived, before finally agreeing to partake in a game of monopoly to settle his nerves. Clearly, this hadn’t helped. To their merit, Remus and Sirius had abstained from the activity, aware that an apprehensive James and board games were never a good combination. They had instead elected to watch, which proved to be a far more enjoyable pastime.

“That’s it!”, James exclaimed, throwing his money down on the table. “I don’t get this dumb muggle game. I’m going for a walk.” He pushed back his chair with an unpleasant screech and stormed out the front door, leaving a bewildered Peter in his wake. They didn’t have long to revel in the absence of James’ intense leg-jiggling, however. The door had barely swung close before it was wrenched open again, and James came thundering back in, unchanged, except for the fact that he was now soaking wet.

Fuming, he mumbles something about “s’raining”, and sloshed his way up the stairs. A distant door slammed, and the house was quiet once more.

“Well”, Sirius clapped his hands together. “I’m starving. Dinner?”

Peter perked up at the mention of sustenance but was quickly shot down by Remus’ next statement.

“In case you haven’t noticed, we can’t exactly walk to town in this weather. And the muggle delivery place won’t come out here in the rain.”

But Sirius was unperturbed. “Well I’ll cook something! Peter, why don’t you go make the guest rooms up for the girls, and Remus and I will whip something up for tea.”

Peter quickly scampered upstairs, not one to pass up an opportunity to clean a bedroom (it was one of his many unappreciated blessings; the need for cleanliness).

Left alone now, Sirius turned to Remus. Just being close to him was enough to set his heart racing, but he pushed that down.

Not right now. We’re just cooking. Just two friends, making dinner for their other two, less sophisticated friends.

However, he found himself unsure of how to proceed. So, as a demonstration of his ever-present sophistication, he decided to go with the most refined of communicative methods: finger guns.

Immediately regretting the decision, he dropped his arms to his side and cleared his throat for what was probably nearing the millionth time that day. “Shall we?” Remus nodded.

The Potters’ kitchen was sprawling with innumerable cupboards and drawers, all immaculately designed and painted to create a blend of antique styles and modern methods. There were 3 ovens, and a number of industrial fridges, including a blast-freezer. A mini fridge sat on the bench, containing sodas of all flavours and, further back, expensive alcohols. To Sirius, who had grown up in the dingy prison of Grimmauld Place, it was heaven.

He walked over to the industrial fridge and started pulling out ingredients, ideas flooding his mind. Although he would never admit it, cooking was one of Sirius’ guilty pleasures. The thought of so many elements, things that are seemingly useless of bland, coming together to form a gastronomical masterpiece was something that he enjoyed immensely. Within minutes, he was working away at a bouillabaisse, the pastry for a quiche already in the oven, and an ice-cream mixture chilling in the fridge.

Remus was watching in amazement from his perch on the island bench, a cold raspberry soda in his hand.

“Where did you learn to cook?” he asked, unable to tear his eyes from the mesmerizing bubbling of the bouillabaisse.

Sirius blushed. “Andy taught me, actually. After she moved in with Ted. I would go and visit her every Saturday and help out around the house when Ted was out working.”

Remus was well aware of Sirius’ feelings about Ted Tonks. Although he had not approved of him initially, believing strongly that Andromeda was worthy of someone better, he had seen how passionately he cared for his family, and grown to like the stumpy little man.

“She says she learned from Ted’s mother, who was a chef in France before the Depression. She said that Andy had a knack for it, and so taught her everything she knew. Since no one in the ministry would take her in fear of her parents getting mad, she decided to do everything she can at home, taking care of the house and of little Nymphadora.”

“Oh yeah, how is she going? God, she must be going on a year now!” Remus asked, remembering the pictures Sirius had shown him of his baby cousin when she was born.

“She’s doing good. It really is a breath of fresh air, seeing that even in the midst of the oncoming war, there is still such innocence and good in the world. But at the same time, I’m terrified that she might have to grow up in a world governed by Voldemort.” His voice shook on that last sentence, his throat swelling painfully as tears sprung to his eyes. He tried to blink them back, unwilling to let Remus see that side of him, but they knew each other too well. With two quick strides, Remus was across the room, enveloping him in a hug.

Sirius sank into it, letting himself be consumed by the warmth or Remus. By that comforting smell of nutmeg and tea, coupled with chocolate and books. The brush of leather jacket on woolen sweater, the feeling of heads on shoulders and hands on backs. And he knew that, as long as this boy was in the world, everything would always be okay.

***

After dinner, the boys had opted to take their dessert into the living room and watch a movie. Remus had suggested Titanic, and James had protested for all of 5 seconds before remembering that Rose bore a slight resemblance to one Lily Evans and supporting the idea wholeheartedly. But now the movie had ended, and the boys found themselves, yet again, in limbo between waking and sleeping. At some point during the movie, Remus had moved over to snuggle next to Sirius, and it hadn’t taken long before they were sprawled out on the sofa, Remus’ head on Sirius’ chest. Sirius had tried no to think anything of it, justifying that Remus was tired and probably didn’t even know what he was doing. But a small part of him couldn’t help but wonder, couldn’t help but hope.

Remus opened his eyes and looked out the window into the dark garden. The night sky was speckled with a tapestry of a thousand stars, each one so small, yet burning with a fire so intense it could consume everything they held dear in less than a second. There was no moon in the sky that night.

Then Remus turned his head to look up at Sirius, his golden eyes meeting grey ones.

“It’s stopped raining”, he said.

Sirius looked up, and saw that the skies had, in fact, cleared.

Glancing down again, he went to reply, but was cut short by the sight before him. Remus was asleep, safe in his best friend’s arms. And so, Sirius spoke his answer for the unlistening ears of the night.

“Yeah. Yeah it has.”

***

I hope you liked it!! It is up on ao3 as well, and the next chapter will be coming soon! Please reblog is you liked it, I’m smol and would love more people to see it. thankyou!!

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dreaminpeaches · 3 years

Text

New Paracosm AU: Big Hero Beau

@decaykid yes, kind of...

Okay, like I said in my last post this idea came to me after listening to Fist Pump and Viva Namida on loop with pacing.

So you know like how the original Humble Pie paracosm is very western horror kind of drama, yeah? well, this paracosm is just full on ANIME BBY!!! I'm talking Space Dandy, I'm talkin' Gurren Lagann, I'm talkin maybe a little bit of Trigun, and also takes alot from action rpgs like Bayonetta, Devil May Cry, Persona, Viewitful Joe, and Wonderful 101 (but its like only two people), and takes alot from Sonic the hedgehog (mostly Sonic Underground, Sonic Adventure 2, and Sonic Forces), and little bit from Fancy Pants ( that's not an anime or a "real" video game, its just an old flash game I used to hyperfixate on).

This paracosm is completely different which is why I gave it, it's own name instead of just adjective then "!"

This version of Beau takes a lot of inspiration from Dandy ( Space Dandy), Vash The Stampede (Trigun), Sonic The Hedgehog (Sonic The Hedgehog), and Kamina (Gurren Langann)

In this paracosm, both of Beau's parents perished in a tragic accident, Beau takes his siblings to an abandoned shack and they hide out and live out there. the tragedy this motivative Beau to become stronger and a hero, not only to keep his siblings safe but others too. The last thing his mom told him was that his smile could save a thousand lives, so because of that he always keeps an upbeat, go get 'em attitude, and he doesn't want to bum his younger siblings out. His mom also gave Beau her heart shape locket before she passed on, so Beau has worn it ever since that day.

The locket is very precious to him, he doesn't let anyone touch it (other than his siblings), and if he loses it he'll go into a panic attack and can't do anything else until he finds it again.

Dev, Beau's little brother, also wants to be strong and a hero, he tries to train like his brother but he can't keep up. Beau tells Dev that he has to be strong in his own way, so Dev decides to put his tech skills to good use and make his older brother cool weapons for him to use. I forgot to mention in this paracosm some people are born with superpowers and such, and Beau's superpowers are super strength and speed, while Dev's superpower is super intelligence.

Dev can't keep up with his brother on foot, so he made himself a jetpack to keep up, and makes science weapons for himself to use.

In this paracosm, there are evil robots, pirates, bandits, ninjas, demons, fallen angels, giant spiders, bad guys who kidnap pretty people, any enemy you would find in a video game or anime yeah it's probably here. So, there's always something for Beau and Dev to fight or someone to save from something.

Beau and Dev don't have secret identities since superpowered people are common but they get to have a pretty rad transformation scene activate when they fist bump each other.

Beau fighting style is similar to that of a hack and slack fighting game, Beau mostly use his fists to fight and his speed, he'll also use guns too, but he'll only use swords if he thinks he can pull off a cool move, since not really experience using them that much. Dev made Beau special gloves and boots that make the attack range of his hit larger so its easier to take out hoards of stuff like robots (which happens lot) and big enemies like giant monsters.

His boots are also guns so its like....

Oh, and Beau also makes sure that he always looks cool when fighting just in case someone takes a pic (which happens alot). Unlike Bayonetta, Beau is more playful with his posing rather than sexy.

Dev's wits come in handy when the two come across puzzles, riddles, or finding a way out of traps on their adventures since Beau didn't complete school once his parents passed and mostly focus on raising his siblings and hero training.

Much like Sonic, Beau is very snarky and witty while fighting his enemies (or at least tries to be), he always tries to make a snarky comment or a really cool zinger before finishing off his enemy. Due to his kind of being not the sharpest tool in the shed, it can take a while for him to come up with a good zinger, so it kind of stalls fights, and sometimes it gets to the point where the enemy is just like "Oh my GOD! just KILL ME!", this also annoys and embarrasses Dev too at times.

Beau makes money from bounties and doing odd jobs around, he makes enough for his siblings to live comfortably, but there are times where he'll go hungry because he only has enough for Dev and Carrie to eat. Beau is still a kind of a lower-level hero compare to the other well know ones around.

Dev has also made a rocket ship so they can fight intergalactically on other planets

Carrie in this paracosm is still 4 years old, she has yet to show any signs of having powers, which is pretty normal for her age since people in this world don't show powers until they hit their pre-teen years.

Beau will take Carrie on their adventures if it's safe enough, but if the mission is too dangerous Beau will take her to the nearest daycare or the nearest trustworthy femme person. Beau will try to make the mission or fight end quickly as possible if he left Carrie with a stranger, there's a sigh of relief once he finds her safe, if not (which doesn't happen a lot thankfully), well somebody gonna die and Beau tries to make it up to her by spending the next few days with her, just him and Carrie.

Beau tries to put being a good guardian/older brother before being a hero and tries his best to spend as much time with Carrie and Dev as possible on chiller/lower stakes days.

Beau had never had time to really process the feeling of losing his parents, there are days where he feels down but he never lets it show around his siblings or have it affect his hero work. There are nights where those memories keep him up, sometimes he'll cry but still try to smile thru the tears.

Beau likes to give peps talks to himself in the mirror, and pep talks to Dev, when he's feeling discouraged, although most of the time those pep talks don't really make any sense Dev still appreciate his brother's kind words.

Since Beau saves people, he interacts a lot with damsels in distress, he flirts with them, but usually gets rejected for coming across as too cheesy or cocky. He doesn't really mind it tho, he actually finds it funny, but when a lady actually flirts back he gets really flustered and has to leave immediately. Despite this Beau still tries to give Dev advice on talking to girls.

Beau still smokes and drinks because the stress of having to raise young siblings, dealing with trauma, and being a hero can be alot, but he still makes sure his siblings don't see him and he doesn't get too wasted.

Other than hero stuff, Hero! Beau enjoys reading comics, parkour, skateboarding, break dancing (which he incorporates in his fighting for some really cool finishers), practicing cool poses and phrases, playing video games with his little brother, and watching barbie movies with his little sisters (since Barbie reminds him of his mom).

Oof, I think that's all I got for now....

TL;DL Basically if this version of Beau is Sonic the original Beau is more like Shadow if that makes any sense.

#paraportal #new paracosm #paracosm #paracosm: big hero beau #para: hero! beau #I still have yet to figure out how Bonnie fits into this paracosm #their dynamic is gonna be more of a 'two stupid dorks' kind of dynamic #I dont think this paracosm could get anymore anime than this #maybe I'll make bonnie a magical girl #idk would that be too much

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 4 years

Note

(LF falls) so in The Inconveniencing, (episode where Dipper, Mabel & Wendy's friends meet ghosts in the convenience store) it could be Tommy, Tubbo, Quackity, Fundy, Niki and some others to fill the teen group. Tommy pretends to be a teen, Tubbo gets high on blue-dip instead of smile-dip, Tommy ends up saving the group by singing jump in the cadillac (lamby dance equivalent).

If this was an actual show then the Boss Mabel episode would be called Tubboss. This is non-negotiable /j. Anyway Schlatt challenges Tubbo to run the shack and goes on a vacation to a game show called love or host. Meanwhile under Tubbo's leadership the mystery hacks go through an altered and significantly less traumatic version of Tubbo's presidency.

Assuming Schlatt loses his memories in the finale, the gang lead him to the broken down shack and Tubbo desperately tries to get his gruncle to remember anything, anything. Then Henry shows up and Schlatt starts yelling about how "didn't I tell Tommy not to bring the dumb cow inside the shack?"

Fundy and Wilbur in the bunker is excellent, but I can't decide which of the two the shape shifter would pretend to be, and which one would cry over the other's "dead body". Both scenarios have great angst potential.

(Also LF falls Fundy and Wil looking at their canon selfs and how fucked their relationship is, getting freaked out and just taking some time to hang out and talk more)

-🌷

Oh god Tubbo please don’t try blue-dip. Oh god he’s going to hallucinate some weird shit. Tommy singing jump in cadiilac is hilarious.

Tubbo running the shack while Schlatt goes on the Love or Host game show? Hilarious on both sides. The exile for Tommy is just him in the time-out corner after getting into a fist-fight with George somehow.

Henry being one of the triggers is hilarious and would cause everyone so much relief.

Oh god the bunker episode. Oh jeez. On one hand we get Fundy “dying” and then Wilbur is distraught because he lost another family member and never ever fixing things up between them. On the other hand we get Wilbur “dying” and Fundy just broken because they were actually talking about things and it seemed like before and now Wilbur’s dead.

Wilbur and Fundy spending more time to hang out and talk after looking at their canon selves is perfect.

#l'manberg falls #tubbo #tommyinnit #jschlatt #fundy #wilbur soot #ask #flower anon

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border-spam · 4 years

Note

Can I get your take on the hierarchy within the cult? Also any thoughts you might have on basic bandit culture?

Yooo world-building time.

Bandits are to Psychos as wolves are to predators. They are part of the same overall culture on Pandora, but Psychos? Psychos don’t just come from Bandits.

Bandits are the roaming clans of wasteland survivors that prey on corporate settlements across the wilds of the dust-planes. They are abandoned workers like the raging ghosts of Dahl’s hidden past, failed settlers deserted on a vicious planet by their patrons who’ve realised you either play Pandora’s game or die trying, and natives who were born within the Bandit tribes and now pass their culture to newfound family.

They have laws that mean life or death, and they follow their spoken rules with savage reverence. There are clan leaders and figureheads, you’re as likely to come across a Bandit trade mogul as a skull collector. They can be reasoned with as long as you speak their language and understand their ways, and most merchant ports across the docklands have stations there are unwritten whispers about - that you don’t setup stalls there, those docks are for the ones with no names.

Psychos are something else altogether. Psychos seek out Bandit clans naturally, like they are drawn to the possibility of belonging. They don’t really belong though, they don’t belong anywhere.

Pandora has a reputation across the border planets as being where the mad congregate, like the planet itself will rot your mind over time, leave you a babbling wreck that carves crude eyes into its chest and eats through its own limbs while shrieking about the hunger and the song, but it’s not actually Pandora that’s at fault.

It wasn’t Pandora that commercialised Eridium, it wasn’t Pandora that brought tens of thousands of people to try and eke out an existence on it while hacking crystallised energy out of its rocky crust, and it wasn’t Pandora that drove its inhabitants mad 29 years before BL3.

That was.. something else. When [Redacted] tore through the minds of the people too close to Eridium, too vulnerable to the song that vibrates through its structure that before had been so silent, it warped their minds into what was after termed the “Psychosis”, the great maddening of Pandora’s civilians. Psychos are doctors, farmers, technicians and housewives. Psychos are bandits born and warped over time, townsfolk who walked too far along abandoned trails that were warned about for reasons, corporate shills and lost children. They are everyone.

It never stopped, and rumors still abound that being too close to Eridium is the trigger, that taking a job in a Slag refinery is practically a death sentence.

The people who lose their sanity to the incessant whispering and scratching at the back of their minds end up seeking out others who understand them, their urge to find belonging drives them instinctively to each other, and so they congregate together around Bandit camps. They may become part of the roving caravans eventually, but they never truly become part of the clan. Bandits are closer to the Psychos than any other denizens of Pandora, but even they hold them at arm’s length, even they know to keep their distance from the muttered frenzy that drives the mad ones.

When the twins began to form the COV, they were rejected straight away by the Bandits and shanty villages they approached. And I mean rejected. We’re talking laughed out of town at the best, and at the worst…

Well, Ty got her scars in that first week, and Troy? He doesn’t remember what happened really, just the tearing smash of the glass bottle slicing across Tyreen’s face, a scream, and then nothing.

Nothing, till he woke into a fever hours later, one that turned septic as he ranted and choked about how even though he closed his eyes, he could still see.

When they tried again in earnest after spending 6 months with Seifa, it didn’t escape either of their notice that while they had to really work for the loyalty of Bandits and townsfolk, the freaks that scratched symbols into the dirt outside the camps while screeching incoherent nonsense seemed to just come to them on their own.

There was no real effort involved, all the Psychos needed was a flash of Siren markings and a promise of family and they followed at the twin’s heels like packs of yelping Skags covered in body fluids and neon paint. The twins never really discussed this - Tyreen uninterested in challenging her own opinions about her social magnetism and Troy uncomfortable with the taste his inklings on the subject left in his mouth, but Psychos are drawn to Sirens. They always have been, they flock to them like pious worshipers half terrified and half in love with the beings they chant about as ghost mothers, vault touched, the voices of the song…

They eagerly weave Sirens into their own beliefs, they worship them without prompt, and so Psychos became the backbone of the initial COV.

They were never respected, though.

As it grew, the Holy City opened its doors to all. Except them.

The twin’s distaste for them is palpable, Troy’s more than Tyreen’s who suffocates it under layers of sickly sweet reassurances that they are family. That they have belonging here, that they are loved by her. They don’t and they aren’t. If anything, the COV views them as literal meat shields - living walls that cushion the casualties of their actual followers by taking bullets in their stead.

The Psychos live outside the city, in shacks and crudely constructed shelter towers. Far enough from the Grand Cathedral at the city’s center that the twins don’t have to deal with hearing the shrieking raucous of the sprawl that grows outside the gates daily and robs slum dwellers of decent sleep.

The city itself is filled with Bandits, traders, drug cartels run by shrewd matriarchs covered in clan symbols inked into their skin, gangs in blood feuds, but the Psychos are forgotten till a raid siren cuts across the city scape and the faithful are called to arms. The Psychos don’t matter till they can stand in front of the Twin God’s chosen and die in glory through a hail of bullets.

Tyreen laughs when they are brought up, jokingly calls them her “favourite little snacks” through a grin that doesn’t reach her eyes and shows far too many teeth.

Troy though, he shudders in confused disgust at the thought of their desperate fingers reaching to glance in worship across the warmth of his skin as he passes with a retinue. He’s strangely invested in pushing provisions budgeting to the Holy City’s slums, and rumors are that the Vanguard are instructed to turn a blind eye when food is passed through the gates into eager hands at night.

Bandits have places of importance within the COV, from Saints like Jak-Knife and Mouthpiece, to old war-hands with roles of General within the assault ranks or highly respected traders in the marketing district of the city. Bandits have a life within the cult, they have real belonging and are seen as having some form of value even by the Twin Gods, and the Calypsos barely see most other people as people.

But the Psychos are just bullet sponges, expendable assets that happily march to death in the name of a mother who lies so convincingly about her love for them.

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #sirens #calypso twins #pandora #psychos #bandits #my hcs #my writing

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poppy-battenberg · 3 years

Text

one for the rebel

This war was never about just you.

You traversed the nation, you met the people, you fought for the people.

You hear the explosion as you kiss your sister’s forehead. And you pause, then you tell her to go back to sleep.

You tell you brother to block the doors behind you. You grab the backpack you left by the door. Your father hands you a knife.

You once thought this war was not about you. But it is.

You are the people.

When the Games ended, the Battenbergs left. This time it was not just Poppy heading out on a train across the country, it was all that was left of them. Each had a duffel bag. Hers had several knives tucked away, her brother’s was weighed down with books, her sister had family photos slipped out of their frames, and her father’s was filled to the brim with the clothes his children were too foolish to think to remember. In a separate car, tucked away from the District Twelve team, Tarta Battenberg brought his children home.

There was an empty apartment above a now defunct butcher shop. It was covered in dust, but that gave the family something to do when they arrived. Ian dusted, Sara unpacked, and Tarta and Poppy met with her father’s old friend that secured them the place to stay. It was not a safe house, but it was far from the Capitol. Poppy didn’t yet know what was to come, but she knew nothing good would come staying near her aunt’s mansion now. And she hoped it might be nice for her father to see his home again.

It did not take long for the rebels to find her. A note was slipped under the door while the whole family was asleep. Tarta slept in an armchair, Poppy slept on a couch, and Ian and Sara each got one of the two bedrooms. Tarta woke first, and left the note on Poppy’s pillow.

The first meeting was in the Seam. Never before had Poppy witnessed such a state of poverty. The smells were worse than any back alley she’d ever stumbled through. Even the stables and barns of Nine were better. At least there was something fresh, even about the manure. She gasped when she saw a makeshift gurney carried out of one shack, with a girl no older than her sister lying dead on it. Her face was pale and her stomach knotted when she arrived to the meeting. No one asked her what ghost she saw. She was a Capitol-raised woman in the Seam. She was prepared for blood and gore; she was not prepared for the much crueler death of starvation.

Once a week, for three weeks, she walked through the Seam. The stench always hit her hard, and she was convinced it grew more rotten by the day. Her sister and brother begged her for details when their father was not around, but she told them nothing. She did not like to think of it when she was not there.

On September 12th, Poppy woke up before dawn. She’d only gotten a couple hours of sleep. Her father, blissfully unaware and ruining his back, was sound asleep in the armchair. She dressed, and washed her face in the cold water that never got warm. Her brother kept complaining about it. She packed another set of clothes, a toothbrush and toothpaste and towel, and a full bottle of water. There was a small first aid kit tucked in the front pocket of the bag, and four knives were carefully strapped to her thighs.

When she opened the window to see a line of miners in the distance walking away from the mines, she heard her father stir. He moved slowly, but she stayed standing with the blinds open for him to see. Soon, a group of Peacekeepers were heading for the mines. Her father asked her what was happening. If he didn’t know, he couldn’t tell. Poppy told him to get the window boarding out of the closet. They would need it.

Poppy sat with her father as they ate a meal of toasted stale bread and jelly. She didn’t want to be hungry when she left. She did not know what lied on the other side of the door.

Ian awoke before Sara. Poppy hugged him and told him to start reading slower or he’d run out of books by the end of the week. She went into Sara’s room and gently pushed some of the hair off her warm forehead. She leaned down to whisper good-bye and kiss her sister’s head, but a loud bang and a shake of the house woke the younger girl.

“Go back to sleep,” Poppy said quietly, placing a hand on her sister’s cheek. “It was thunder.”

Sara’s head slowly fell back to the pillow, and Poppy closed the door softly behind her. Every movement that came next was quick, deliberate, sharp. She barely looked at her brother or her father as she retrieved her backpack. She did not want to see them watch another member of their family walk out the door and possibly never come back.

There was a tap on her arm, and her father was carefully holding out a knife toward her. He did not look as if he actually knew how to use it, and she didn’t know who gave it to him, but she took it. She took it, and shut the door behind her. The staircase leading down to the first floor was dark, damp, and quiet. She had to slow her pace only so she wouldn’t tumble down.

When she opened the door, the first thing she smelled was burning. She didn’t know what was burning, but it stung her nostrils and her eyes. She did not look back up at the apartment behind her, running out quickly instead across the merchants’ quarters to join familiar faces as they overtook a Peacekeeper vehicle. There was no room inside, and she instead clung to the grates on the roof with another rebel holding tight to her waist out an open door. Peacekeepers began to march across the square, raising their guns. She vividly remembered when she was tased. Titaniara left her there, to nearly choke on her own vomit, without a second thought.

The Peacekeepers split up to make way for one of their vehicles. Through the windshield, she did not see the sharp, harsh helmets of the robots. They were human faces, with guns trained out the window.

“OUT!” Poppy screamed, using the bottom of her knife handle to bang on the top of the truck. “OUT! OUT! OUT!”

She leapt off the truck and tucked up as tight as she could. She dropped the knife to avoid cutting herself as she rolled, and she was followed by two others from the truck. One strap on her backpack completely tore, and pulled off enough fabric to send her things spilling on the ground. She left the bag, grabbed the knife from the hard-packed dirt, and ran. She went for the Seam, sucking in the ash and stench and trying her best not to hack up a lung as she sought refuge.

Another rebel grabbed her arm and pulled her down a path that led to the Hob. She’d only ever been told this was the way to the Hob, never actually been this way. There was no time to see what was around her. The ash was filling the sky, blocking the sun and leaving a shadow over everything. A long table was quickly moved, a shovel was used to scrape away some dirt, and a wooden door was revealed. Poppy didn’t question, just followed the rebel she now trusted with her life down into the hidden cellar.

The door slammed shut, and a candle lit up. There were four of them there, and Poppy was the only one who didn’t have to crouch down to fit. The one who led her down, a woman she now recognized as Linta from the meetings, placed a finger to her lips. Poppy nodded, and had to clasp a hand over her mouth as she tried to stifle her coughs. When there was noise above, they all sat down. They stayed quiet amid banging, and shooting, and screaming above. It lasted for a long time. So long the tickle completely diminished from Poppy’s throat, and she was hungry again. Not a single one of them spoke, instead all looked up repeatedly at the door. One loud bang was too close for comfort, and made the wooden door shake and dirt slipped through the cracks. But it stayed closed.

Things went quiet. And still, they stayed. It was not until Linta finally cleared her throat that Poppy felt like she could breathe with her mouth open again. When they tried to open the door, it was weighed down. It took all four of them to push against it and get it open under the weight of a table that had fallen on it. Everything was dark around them. When Poppy tried to take a step, she felt her feet land in something soft. She didn’t know what it was. Linta reached out in the dark to take her hand and guide her. She knew Twelve like the back of her hand, and wordlessly guided the rebel group through the overturned tables and chairs until they were on a narrow path. When Poppy looked up, she could still see a dark haze covering the sky, blocking out the moon almost entirely. She wondered if her father had dared to venture outside.

Poppy was expecting to be hit with the smell of the Seam, but instead the air seemed to clear. Tall, dark masses were stretching up around them. The trees weren’t thick, but they were densely packed. She tripped over some of the thin roots a few times. They’d probably been planted after the bombing, to try to replenish the air and vegetation. Linta came to a stop, and lit another match. A camouflage tent was set up, covered almost entirely by leaves and branches. She let the rebels inside, blew out the candle, and offered them each a can of cold soup in the dark.

For two days, they stayed there. Two at a time would leave the tent if necessary. Linta had a walkie-talkie that was turned on only at certain times to receive news. The mine bomb was successful, but the smoke and ash was worse than expected. Several rebels had been captured. It wasn’t part of the original plan, but the district leaders wanted to free them. Poppy volunteered to help Linta with the task.

When it was dark, they moved out. No candle, no light, only Linta’s knowledge to guide them back to the square. Poppy did not question, only followed the older woman with a knife at the ready. It would be useless against a Peacekeeper’s gun, but it was all she had. Linta only had a knife and a hammer, but the latter would probably be useful that night.

The closer they got, the more careful they had to be. Human soldiers and robotic Peacekeepers alike were patrolling everywhere. A carpenter near the jail left his window open on purpose, and one by one rebels slipped in for a safe space to reconnect before their attack. Poppy was to wait until the rebels were free, then help get them back to the Hob. Another group was waiting there to bring them all to a hidden safe house. A contingent armed with explosives left first, taking aim at the Peacekeepers as bullets began to fly. From the second floor, the carpenter had a rifle that he used to try to target the soldiers defending the jail. Two rebels slipped through the entrance, and that was all that was needed.

When the prisoners began to spill out, Poppy did not hesitate. She was the first one out the door, with Linta right behind her. They caught the attention of the group and started to run. Linta led them, and Poppy followed the group.

A bullet tore through her skin. It was a graze, nothing punctured, but she began to bleed profusely immediately. And it hurt. She let out a yelp, and turned with her knife raised, forgetting guns were not close-range weapons. Whoever shot her was not there, but there was a soldier in an unusual uniform. She ducked and lunged, tackling him with a pained grunt. She dropped her knife to grab a hold of his gun and try to twist it out of his hands. He pointed the barrel at her forehead, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Empty.

She wished she had time to laugh. She grabbed the barrel with both hands and shoved down, slamming the soldier in the middle of the forehead with the end of his own gun. She did it again, and again, and again, until she could tear the gun away from his limp hands. More shots were firing off, and she could hear people screaming all around her. There was a loud bang as the windows were suddenly blown out of the carpentry building. She quickly patted down the man’s vest pockets, found the magazine, and started to reload as she stood. She felt significantly more comfortable with a knife than this weapon, but she would take what she could get. Point and shoot. It couldn’t be that hard. She would need to brace for the recoil more than usual with her right arm weakened and still badly bleeding.

Her ears rang with the first shot she fired. The group of rebels was long gone now, having followed Linta to what she hoped was safety. All that mattered now was for Poppy to get to safety, too. There was more concentration on the larger groups of rebels gathering in the square, but another one of those soldiers had spotted her. She fired, missed. Fired, missed. A Peacekeeper joined the soldier, and both took aim. She fired, hit the soldier, and didn’t waste time watching him drop. She ducked behind a sign for the train station and felt the entire thing shake as the Peacekeeper’s bullets tore through the posts. She stayed crouched down low and moved quickly, rounding the building as the Peacekeeper unleashed another round of bullets.

The chaos in the square was suddenly cut through with the blaring sound of the train horn. She watched the lights on the side go bright. It was a cargo train. Almost every car was filled with coal. The Capitol couldn’t waste that resource. She knew some rebels were targeting trains. With fighting so close, and with explosives so close, it had to leave before something else went up in flames.

And she had to leave, too. She didn’t know a place where she could safely hide, not in this district that was so unfamiliar to her. She would be caught, and she would be executed. It didn’t scare her, not now as she crawled on belly and forearms along the shadow of the train tracks, leaving a trail of blood behind her. But her father did not deserve to see that.

There was a rumble, and the squeak of wheels that were getting ready to start rolling fast. She let go of the gun and stood up just enough to hoist herself up into the last car. It was empty, aside from a few bins of coal secured to the wall. Her right arm gave way, and she collapsed halfway up. With a loud groan that echoed through the almost empty train car, she dug her left elbow into the floor and dragged herself in farther. She came to rest against the carts of coal. She managed to take her shoes off and tear up one sock into a makeshift bandage for her arm. She told herself to stay awake, at least until she saw sunlight. But once the fighting was out of earshot, the border between darkness and consciousness slipped away.

When she awoke, she was hungry, stiff, and in pain. At first she didn’t know where the pain was coming from. The world was blurry and golden and moving fast. She blinked several times, and finally started to push herself up. Her arm. Her arm was what hurt the most, and the golden blur soon had a red splotch in it. Her head hurt from the hunger and more. Probably the blood loss, too. She hadn’t thought, when it happened, that the wound was that bad. But her sock bandage was soaked through, and sticking to her skin. She didn’t dare try to peel it away. With only one sock on, she tied her sneakers back on.

A loud horn sounded through the air. Her attention quickly snapped to the scenery whipping by, rattling the open door of the car. She was on a train. She was on a train with goods heading to the Capitol. She was a rebel on a train with no way to get off until she was stationary. There would be Peacekeepers at the train station. She’d heard rumors from the other rebels in Twelve of the plans for the Capitol, for the Tower. There was no way they did not have Peacekeepers everywhere.

And it was daylight now, with only one way out.

Her stomach rumbled loudly as she crawled to sit with her back against the wall right near the open doorway. Looking out at the scenery racing by, she started to get dizzy and feel nauseous. She lied down, back pressed against the wall as the air cooled and covered her skin in goosebumps. Then it was dark, and the air grew thinner. Poppy slowly sat upright, trying to focus. The train would be in the Capitol soon. She had to think fast. Looking down, she found she only had two knives remaining on her holsters. Her right hand was unsteady from the pain still resonating from the graze, but she hoped she could still keep a good grip.

Poppy pressed her palms into the wall of the car as she stood up, and kept them there to steady herself. The train slowed, and she nearly toppled over with the sudden jolt of it braking. Through the wide opening, she could see her city sprawling out before her. She could see it ruined, with shattered glass and broken doors and toppled streetlamps and broken LED displays.

The day was dawning on her city, and every reflection looked like it was on fire.

this was her city, was it not? battenberg city, they should’ve renamed it. renamed it for the blood spilled to get it.

Clever thoughts of a stealthy departure slipped her mind. She was in the last car, several yards away from where the last Peacekeeper was standing on the platform. She saw it before it sensed her body heat in the distance. She jumped from the train and raced down the concrete steps at the end of the platform. She used her left arm to balance herself as she climbed over the locked gate that said “employees only” in big, yellow letters. There was the now familiar sound of a gunshots, and she could heard them whizzing by and hitting other trains, hitting the tracks, hitting anything but her. She didn’t stay in a straight line, shifting quickly and randomly to avoid being locked in as a target. All those obstacle courses her coach made her do for agility in high school were paying off.

The gravel of the train tracks gave way to pavement, with garages spanning the length. Ahead of her was another “employees only” sign plastered on a large gate that separated the garages from a parking lot. She kept running. Even as she heard ambulance and Peacekeeper sirens begin to sound, she kept going. Even as she heard the echo of a crash. She did not stop until she was through the parking lot, beyond another gate, and finally back. She was really there. Really back in her city.

She was tired and hurt and hungry, and she had nowhere to go. The only place she could run to now was the fight.

The once buzzing city was comparatively quiet, but her heart was beating fast enough to match the excitement of her nights out.

bottle in hand, she was solo ahead of her group as she stumbled headfirst through the streets of the capitol.

Knives in hand, she walked solo over the debris now covering the streets of the Capitol. She followed the traveling sounds of sirens, screams, and shots.

she paused to stare up at a brilliant image of the young, new victor.

Hanging in the display window of a cybercafe was a picture of Nvidia Anderson. It was untouched, despite the window being entirely broken out. She hoped this war left that poor girl untouched.

the lights flashed across her skin like that was all they were meant to do. there was neon glowing where her blood should be flowing.

The siren lights flashed across her as she turned onto a main street.

Rebels were ducking behind several overturned cars, using them as barriers as they occasionally shot bullets and projectiles at a group of soldiers and Peacekeepers. The officials had actual concrete barriers to protect themselves, and bulletproof vests and another hoard of weapons in their trunk. She could see it, because she came up behind them. One of the soldiers was starting to reload his gun when he saw her.

She grabbed at his throat and dug in her nails. She drew blood as he fought back, hitting her hard in the face with the side of the gun. She stumbled around the back of the car, hearing the distinctive clicking sounds as he went back to work. Her vision was blurry and the world was off-balance, but she still found her knives at her side. It took all her focus to maintain a grip and bring them down, hard and fast, into the backs of two soldiers taking aim at the rebels. She never saw if they fell or not.

There was a sudden searing pain through her skull.

the city was dark.

#th:self #self-para #one for the rebel #126 #126 at home #tw:death #tw:starvation #tw:blood #tw:violence #unintentionally found a way to weave in her very first para look at that

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tuseriesdetv · 3 years

Text

Noticias de series de la semana

Renovaciones

Comedy Central ha renovado South Park hasta su trigésima temporada. Además, Paramount+ ha encargado catorce películas.

Apple TV+ ha renovado Physical por una segunda temporada

Disney+ ha renovado The Mighty Ducks: Game Changers por una segunda temporada

Showtime ha renovado The Chi por una quinta temporada

Adult Swim ha renovado Tuca & Bertie por una segunda temporada

Roku podría producir una película de Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist y quizás más temporadas

Sky Comedy ha renovado Bloods por una segunda temporada

Disney+ ha renovado Star Wars: The Bad Batch por una segunda temporada

Cancelaciones

Apple TV+ ha cancelado Little Voice tras su primera temporada

Amazon ha cancelado Panic tras su primera temporada

HBO Max ha descartado Overlook. Se venderá a otra plataforma.

Noticias cortas

Britt Robertson (Cheyenne) y Michelle Forbes (Margaret) no estarán en la segunda temporada de Big Sky.

Matthew Willig (André the Giant) será regular en la segunda temporada de Young Rock.

Wyatt McClure (Billy) será regular en la quinta temporada de Young Sheldon.

Fichajes

Neil Patrick Harris (How I Met Your Mother, A Series of Unfortunate Events) protagonizará y producirá Uncoupled, en la que Michael pensaba que su vida era perfecta hasta que su marido se marcha tras diecisiete años.

Cobie Smulders (How I Met Your Mother, Stumptown) sustituye a Betty Gilpin en el papel de Ann Coulter en Impeachment: American Crime Story.

Ellen Burstyn (The Exorcist, Requiem for a Dream) volverá a interpretar a Bernie Stabler, la madre de Elliot (Chris Meloni), en la segunda temporada de Law & Order: Organized Crime.

Sam Waterston (Grace and Frankie, The Newsroom), Kurtwood Smith (That '70s Show, Resurrection), Anne Archer (Falcon Crest, Ghost Whisperer), Dylan Minnette (13 Reasons Why, Awake), Bashir Salahuddin (GLOW, Looking), Alan Ruck (Succession, The Exorcist), Mary Lynn Rajskub (24, The Girlfriend Experience), Hart Bochner (Too Old to Die Young, Die Hard), James Hiroyuki Liao (Unforgettable, Prison Break), Nicky Endres (One Day at a Time), Camryn Mi-Young Kim y Andrew Leeds (Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist, A Million Little Things) se unen a The Dropout. Interpretarán a George Schultz, secretario de Estado; David Boies, abogado representante de Elizabeth (Amanda Seyfried); Charlotte Schultz, esposa de George; Tyler Shultz, biólogo que trabaja en Theranos; Brendan Morris, ingeniero eléctrico de Theranos; Jay Rosan, miembro del equipo de innovación de la sede de Walgreens en Chicago; Lorraine Fuisz, esposa de Richard Fuisz (William H. Macy); Larry Ellison, millonario interesado en Theranos; Edmond Ku, jefe de ingeniería de Theranos; Ana Arriola, diseñadora de Apple reclutada por Elizabeth; Erika Cheung, graduada en Berkeley que empieza a trabajar en Theranos; y Roland, sabelotodo lameculos del CFO de Walgreen.

Ron Cephas Jones (This Is Us, Luke Cage) y Vinnie Jones (Galavant, Snatch) serán recurrentes en la segunda temporada de Law & Order: Organized Crime como Leon Kilbride, un congresista que sabe jugar sus cartas; y Albi Briscu, un gangster europeo.

Leslie Jones (Saturday Night Live, Ghostbusters) y Nat Faxon (Friends From College, Ben and Kate) se unen como recurrentes a Our Flag Means Death.

Sam Elliott (The Ranch, A Star Is Born) y los cantantes Tim McGraw (The Shack) y Faith Hill protagonizarán Y: 1883, la precuela de Yellowstone. Serán Shea Brennan, cowboy con un inmenso pesar que tiene la tarea de guiar a un grupo de Texas a Montana; y James y Margaret Dutton, patriarca y matriarca de la familia Dutton.

Luis Guzmán (Black Code, Oz) será Gomez, el padre de Wednesday (Jenna Ortega), en Wednesday.

Minka Kelly (Friday Night Lights, Titans), Dominic Fike y Demetrius "Lil Meech" Flenory Jr. (Black Mafia Family) se unen a la segunda temporada de Euphoria. Se desconocen detalles.

Michelle Forbes (The Killing, True Blood) será recurrente en la cuarta temporada de New Amsterdam como Veronica Fuentes, una fixer que tiene la tarea arreglar las cifras del hospital.

Kerry Bishé (Halt and Catch Fire, Narcos) será Austin Geidt, empleada número cuatro de Uber, en Super Pumped.

Ian Anthony Dale (Hawaii Five-0, Murder in the First) y Laurie Fortier (Hemlock Grove, Unsolved) se unen a la undécima y última temporada de The Walking Dead. Serán Tomi, miembro del grupo recientemente descubierto; y Agatha.

Keir Gilchrist (Atypical, United States of Tara), Elizabeth Marvel (Homeland, House of Cards) y Tom Pelphrey (Ozark, Iron Fist) se unen como regulares a Love and Death. Interpretarán al pastor Ron Adams, la pastora Jackie Ponder y Don Crowder.

Raza Jaffrey (Code Black, Smash) y Sennia Nanua serán Francois Guise y Rahima en The Serpent Queen.

Ella Rumpf (Grave, Freud) participará como invitada en la tercera temporada de Succession. Se desconocen detalles.

Julie Halston (Bitsy) estará en And Just Like That..., el revival de Sex and the City. Christopher Jackson (Hamilton, Bull) y LeRoy McClain (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Respect) serán Herbert Wexley, exitoso banquero de Manhattan y esposo de Lisa Todd Wexley (Nicole Ari Parker); y Andre Rashad Wallace, exitoso músico y marido de Nya Wallace (Karen Pittman).

Poppy Liu (Hacks, Sunnyside) se une como regular a Dead Ringers. Será Greta, encargada del servicio en casa de Elliot y Beverly (Rachel Weisz).

Eiza González (From Dusk Till Dawn, I Care a Lot) está en negociaciones para unirse al reparto de The Three Body Problem.

Beth Lacke (High School Musical: The Musical: The Series), Stephen Louis Grush (Longmire) y Cass Buggé (Disjointed) se unen como recurrentes a Lightyears. Serán Chandra, antigua alumna de Irene (Sissy Spacek) insatisfecha con su trabajo en una residencia de ancianos y con la vida en general; Nick, un solitario sin habilidades sociales que lleva un negocio familiar de cortinas y tiene una inesperada conexión con Stella (Julieta Zylberberg); y Jeanine, esposa de Byron (Adam Bartley) recién llegada a Farnsworth y vecina de Irene y Franklin (J.K. Simmons).

Byron Bowers (The Chi) será Herman, un director de Hollywood que se encuentra en París promocionando su película, en Irma Vep. Tom Sturridge (Sweetbitter, The Hollow Crown) sustituye a Jerrod Carmichael en el papel de Eamonn, exnovio de Mira (Alicia Vikander).

Daniel Augustin (David Makes Man), Ashlei Sharpe Chestnut (Homeland, Cruel Summer), Amandla Jahava y Jaboukie Young-White (Awkwafina Is Nora from Queens) serán recurrentes en Rap Sh*t como Maurice, amigo y colega de Shawna (Aida Osman); Fatima, compañera de clase y amiga de Cliff (Devon Terrell); Jill, amiga de la universidad de Shawna que trabaja en Spotify en Nueva York; y Francois Boom, antiguo compañero de clase de Shawna y productor.

Richard Roundtree (Family Reunion, Being Mary Jane) y Terri J. Vaughn (Insecure, Greenleaf) se unen como recurrentes a la segunda temporada de Cherish the Day. Serán Mandeville "MV" St. James, exjuez y padre viudo de Sunday (Joy Bryant); y Anastasia, futura exmujer de Ellis (Henry Simmons).

Justice Leak (Raising Dion, Powers) será recurrente en The Staircase como Tom Maher, compañero de David Rudolf (Michael Stuhlbarg).

Martin Bobb-Semple (Pandora, Free Rein), Karim Diané (StartUp), Sara Thompson (The 100, Burden of Truth), George Ferrier (Dirty Laundry), Miles J. Harvey (American Vandal) y Zenia Marshall (Date My Dad) serán recurrentes en One of Us Is Lying como Evan Nieman, novio de Bronwyn (Marianly Tejada); Kris Greene, nuevo estudiante con lazos con Cooper (Chibuikem Uche) y Nate (Cooper van Grootel); Vanessa Clark, mejor amiga de Addy (Annalisa Cochrane); TJ Forrester, novio de Vanessa; Lucas Clay, hermano pequeño de Cooper; y Keely Moore, novia de Cooper.

Melissa Saint-Amaud (Ozark) será Claire Brockman en Long Slow Exhale.

Alfie Fuller (Little America) participará en la cuarta temporada de The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. Se desconocen detalles.

Christie Clark (Carrie), Austin Peck (Austin), Thaao Penghlis (André), Leann Hunley (Anna), Greg Rikaart (Leo), Chandler Massey (Will), Zachary Atticus Tinker (Sonny) y Eileen Davidson, que ha interpretado a varios personajes; también estarán en Days of Our Lives: Beyond Salem.

Pósters

Nuevas series

Hulu ha encargado Tell Me Lies, basada en la novela de Carola Lovering (2018), que sigue una relación agitada y tóxica durante ocho años. Lucy Albright (Grace Van Patten; Nine Perfect Strangers, Maniac) y Stephen DeMarco se conocen en la universidad, donde decisiones aparentemente mundanas tienen consecuencias irrevocables. Escrita y producida por Meaghan Oppenheimer (Queen America). Produce Emma Roberts (First Kill).

Hulu encarga la comedia This Fool, antes conocida como Punk Ass Bitch, en la que un macarra de Los Ángeles (Chris Estrada) vive aún en casa de sus padres, trabaja en una organización sin ánimo de lucro que ayuda a la rehabilitación de pandilleros y se esfuerza para ayudar a cualquiera menos a él mismo. Con Michelle Ortiz (Mr. Mom) y Frankie Quinones (The Dress Up Gang). Escrita y producida por Estrada junto a Jake Weisman, Matt Ingebretson y Pat Bishop, creadores de Corporate. Producen Fred Armisen (Portlandia, Forever) y Jonathan Groff (How I Met Your Mother, Black-ish).

Syfy encarga Reginald the Vampire, dramedia en la que el mundo está habitado por vampiros bellos, en forma y vanidosos. Reginald Baskin (Jacob Batalon; Spider-Man: Homecoming, 50 States of Fright) es un héroe improbable que tiene que lidiar con todo tipo de obstáculos: no puede estar con la chica que le gusta, tiene un jefe bully en el trabajo y el jefe de los vampiros lo quiere muerto. Adaptación de los libros 'Fat Vampire' de Johnny B. Truant. Escrita por Harley Peyton (Twin Peaks, Channel Zero).

Amazon encarga The Lake, su primera serie original canadiense. Es una comedia en la que Justin (Jordan Gavaris; Orphan Black, Take Two) vuelve a casa tras romper con su pareja, con quien vivió en el extranjero durante muchos años, con la esperanza de reconectar con su hija biológica (Madison Shamoun), a la que dio en adopción en la adolescencia, pero descubre que su padre dejó la idílica casa del lago en la que él pasó su niñez a su hermanastra Maisy-May (Julia Stiles; Riviera, Dexter). Completan el reparto Jon Dore (How to Live with Your Parents (For the Rest of Your Life)), Carolyn Scott, Natalie Lisinska (Orphan Black, Mary Kills People), Travis Nelson, Declan Whaley (Criminal Minds) y Terry Chen (The Expanse, Jessica Jones). Escrita y producida por Julian Doucet (Killjoys, Bomb Girls).

eOne adaptará The Turnout, la próxima novela de Megan Abbott (2021). Las hermanas Durant, dueñas de una escuela de ballet y con una historia familiar problemática, contratan a Derek, un contratista, para reformar el estudio. Una de ellas comienza una aventura con él que amenaza sus lazos familiares y expone secretos de la familia.

Aubrey Plaza (Parks and Recreation, Legion) y Ramón Rodríguez (Gang Related, Iron Fist) protagonizarán el piloto de Olga Dies Dreaming, adaptación de la novela de Xóchitl Gonzalez (2021), en Hulu. Trata sobre dos hermanos nuyorriqueños con una madre ausente y políticamente radical y una vida entre la élite de Nueva York tras el paso del huracán María. Olga (Plaza) es una wedding planner cuya fachada oculta un interior oscuro, su búsqueda de la perfección se ha convertido en un compulsivo mecanismo de supervivencia, cree que nadie la ve como una igual y que su éxito es una ilusión y trata de escapar de su pasado todo lo que pueda. Prieto (Rodríguez) es un congresista orgulloso de su origen puertorriqueño que creció con el papel de patriarca y mantiene esta fachada ante sus votantes y sus oponentes. Escrita por Gonzalez y dirigida por Alfonso Gómez-Rejón (Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, American Horror Story).

HBO Max desarrolla Sag Harbor, adaptación de la novela de Colson Whitehead (2009) en la que Benji Cooper, uno de los pocos estudiantes negros de una escuela de secundaria de élite de Manhattan en 1985, escapa de los Hamptons cada verano para ir a Sag Harbor, donde una pequeña comunidad de profesionales afroamericanos han construido su propio mundo. Escrita por Daniel "Koa" Beaty. Producen Beaty, Whitehead y Laurence Fishburne (Black-ish).

Fechas

Deceit se estrena en Channel 4 el 13 de agosto

La segunda temporada de Ladhood se estrena en BBC Three el 15 de agosto

La segunda temporada de Code 404 se estrena en Sky Comedy el 1 de septiembre

La sexta temporada de Queen Sugar se estrena en OWN el 7 de septiembre

Doogie Kameāloha, M.D. se estrena en Disney+ el 8 de septiembre

The Lost Symbol se estrena en Peacock el 16 de septiembre

La cuarta y última temporada de Dear White People llega a Netflix el 22 de septiembre

Dopesick se estrena en Hulu el 13 de octubre

La segunda temporada de The Great se estrena en Hulu el 19 de noviembre

The Lord of the Rings se estrena en Prime Video el 2 de septiembre de 2022

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