#hammering thoughts

[nailyourcoffins]

WHY NO ONE'S TALKING ABOUT LJOGA CONFIRMING CRISTOPHERS'S BIRTHDAY??

Basically, yesterday Ljoga posted a Youtube video where he talks a lot about the future of the rpg and some fun facts about his characters in a Q&A he made on Instagram (which i highly reccomend checking if you can)

BUT SPECIFICALLY, someone on the comments section asked him about Cris' birthday and lo and behold:

[trans] "I can't believe i missed the opportunity to ask you when's the birthday of my favorite character, cris 💔💔"

L: "August 11! :D"

AUGUST 11!!!!

So, that makes this babygirl right there

🎉🎉🎉A LEO!!!🎉🎉🎉

but also 59 years old at the very start of OSNF and exactly 1 month older than Veríssimo.

[toaster-boi]

i should probably back up my blog after this

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

A phone call between brothers (takes place AFTER this incident and Fiddleford's phone call)

Sorry if this is OOC!

[paarthursass]

[lil-playful-pup]

He's from where?

[baking-bugs]

Stop -- Hammer time !

[heartorbit]

the star you've longed for

[lightnersdream]

i've been thinking about exactly why people portraying one of the other crew members successfully killing Jimmy as a "for what you did to Anya" kind of thing rubs me the wrong way a bit and it's because like..... this is just another form of taking agency away from Anya, in a way. it's kind of framing her as some meek, shivery woman-thing who's entirely at the mercy of the men around her, either to hurt her or save her.

(i understand these are mostly for wish fulfillment on the audience's behalf because everyone would like to see Jimmy pay for his crimes. whether or not this is the intention of the person writing it isn't really relevant, characterization happens with or without intent. i feel like it misses the point by portraying it as an 'ideal ending'.)

because... Anya is a capable person. she takes things into her own hands when she can. it was partially(?) her idea to get into the cargo,

(before he interrupts her.. remember when she interrupted Curly in the dead pixel segment?)

it was her idea to get the code scanner from the cockpit,

it was her idea to get the medication from behind the foam.

(the chance to do these things herself is not given to her.)

she'd been keeping Curly alive for months in a critical state somehow, her psych evaluations at the start are only so useless because Jimmy refuses to take it/her seriously and Curly is obviously biased when he puts it into his own hands. he's known him a long time, like he said. "I'll just put good for that one."

there's not a lot of material to work with because of how the game is framed, but it's there. we are working with two very biased perspectives and neither one lends Anya what she deserves

there's significant changes in how she speaks post- and pre- crash, and depending on who she happens to be talking to. i recommend re-reading her dialogue, because the difference is drastic

she acts the way she does around Jimmy because he has tangibly done horrible things to her, is actively hostile, and physically could not escape him by any means. she can't take away Curly's agency herself, in my eyes. you have to remember that Especially in the post-crash segments of the game, it's entirely from Jimmy's POV, and he obviously does not (and has never) thought very highly of her or treated her with a shred of respect

i've seen a general idea that she can't bear to hurt other people for any reason, but that doesn't really track to me. this is the real point of the post by the way

it seems based on the parts where she says she struggles to give Curly medication. "It just hurts him so much, I can't stand the noise." "It makes me nauseous."

it's not really the same thing as, say, hurting someone in self defense

this sounds like she did want the gun itself. this never felt worded like someone who would refuse to, at very least, threaten Jimmy with a gun, with violence. if she had been given the agency to make that decision on her own. she wasn't though

she still tries to reclaim some of it even as she's denied it

by the end she's still trying to keep that gun out of his hands

i think some people overly soften her, for similar reasons the game itself is trying to comment on. she's not a tender victim who couldn't cause pain to another out of the softness of her soul, she's a person who's had every last bit of agency ripped from her repeatedly until she couldn't take it anymore. that's the point. that's why framing her that way, "needing" someone to save her, is odd to me

she didn't need Curly to save her, she needed him to take responsibility

she didn't want to escalate things, but she's not an idiot. self defense was absolutely on her mind

but who knows im just saying shit *smiles serenely*

[bacchuschucklefuck]

and! barbarian!fig! its her

[nailyourcoffins]

There's like, two asks in my inbox but it only shows one and it's driving me insane since last month, is it anything related to a word i blocked? Is it tumblr being broken as always? Who knows...

[copia]

"Hiding from the light, sacrificing nothing; still you call on me, for entrance to the shrine." ⛧ Ghost — Square Hammer [source]

"At the end of the day, one of the biggest misconceptions of Ghost is that it's just about the devil. It's always been about mankind and living." — Tobias Forge [source] "There is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans, that the moment one definitely commits oneself that Providence moves, too. Whatever you can do or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now." — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe [source]

[lonelyzarquon]

Peter Cushing in Horror of Dracula (1958)

[sky-snz]

An itch that takes multiple good tries sneezes to get rid of.

One, to break the surface tension, a first hard hammer swing at the carnival game contraption, just barely enough to ring the bell at the top.

Two, to help it along. It’s followed by a mindless sniffle, and those have been much more plentiful, generous even, sometimes scratching the itch and sometimes shifting against the sensitive nasal membrane just the wrong way, and then they’re leaning back in the chair, knowing they’re about to reach-

Three, and at this point, they’re panting a little. Eyes that were once softly focused are now blinking, and wincing at the pressure and burning pressing into the left side of their sinuses, they sniffle again, gently pressing their fingers against warm, wet nostrils. 

Four and Five tear out unapologetically, seeming to barrel like cattle through a flimsy gate. They suck in a rather soupy sniffle, and sigh. Annoyance swims in their bleary eyes, which dart around for a couple of seconds before their other hand quickly reaches to pull a tissue from the box on their left. But the box’s contents are dwindling, and they have to shake the white delicate three-layered sheet for it to come out. They know they’ll need a second one, the fetching of which requires the same silly method. Quickly, they layer the tissues, and with their chest heaving with more preparatory breaths, lift them with a fairly dramatic gasp.

Sihh- Or... No. Not… Not yet? Siiii…. Sihhh’HIHH’—- No. Fuck.

They sigh, and sniff loudly, blinking down at the soft, neatly-folded landing pad they’ve acquired. In their frustration, they lift two fingers to scrub aggressively at the sore, indecisive appendage at the centre of their face, which can only offer a watery stream down their upper lip, through rounded nostrils that blush more deeply at the abuse. Clicking, squeaking, and another harsh sniffle whistles through the troubled, swollen passages, introducing cool air against newly aggravated, reddened stretches of irritated nasal membrane, their fingers finally relent, and-

Six. Seven. Some watery blinks, and an improvised series of eighth note breaths, and-

Eight, Nine, Ten; wrenching and useless,

Then a long, high-pitched gasp, pulled from the depths of their thorax, and out bursts Eleven, which mercilessly tears through damp layers of tissue. They feel the heat of a tear create a thin trail down their stiff, reddened face, before they sniffle again noisily and reach for more tissues that pull the poor, steadily hollowing box with them, tumbling across the table. Clutching the sodden wad of tissues to their disruptive nose, they one-handedly fold the new tissues and have to pinch the mess away from their warm, still-leaking nostrils before replacing them.

Twelve rips against the roof of their mouth, scraping the back of their throat and sending a hurricane blast of air and moisture that the tissues can barely contain. Awful, and the same time delicious - it sweeps the ticklish sensation away in one violent, punctuating go.

A pained, shaky mix of a sigh and groan creeps from their lips. That one must have hit the bell. Sitting there in a soft daze, they can feel the brass reverberations ringing between their temples.

[rocketbirdie]

wtf (who's that frog)

[redrobin-detective]

My fic writing process

Me: Here is an interesting idea, extrapolating the story's inherent, underutilized worldbuilding and not only acting upon it, but expanding it and making it my own to explore themes and characters I enjoy. Also Me: Ok but also this would be Hilarious

[philyuri]

can someone PLEASE. PLEAAAASE ask a question about phillippa for a preshow. i miss her. i think about her. i want phil to talk about her please