#he gets gamer drawbacks

[oldmanlusting]

Okay gamers I need your help should I push for sharing a hotel room OR a cottage with my crush because apparently we might have Options

[fluidstatick]

I keep reading reviews of Indika, and I'm astounded by how many people have called the points and leveling a drawback of the game. "The points and leveling are pointless," they say. I want to reach through my screen, gently grab each reviewer by the shoulders, shake them slightly, and say "Observing religious convention in a secular world doesn't have material consequences. The Points Are Pointless, and that's the Point."

At a certain level juncture, you have a choice.

Level up - GUILT: gain twelve points now. A short term gain for a short term emotion. Feel bad about something specific, get a little nod of approval from the orthodox tradition that views guilt as constructive.

Level up - SHAME: Point multiplier. Gain extra points from each action in the future. A long term gain for a long term emotion. Feel like shit about the fact that you exist, and you're being pious. Rack up stores in heaven with interest.

It's genius commentary on the emotional and psychological handcuffs that religious institutions use to control believers. Gamers follow directions without questioning the dubious language of the leveling, because that's how games work: level up enough and gain control over the outcome of the game. This is also how religion works. Obey the laws of the institution, and eventually you'll feel secure in it. We, the player, are conditioned by the medium of video games to trust the point system. Indika, the nun, is conditioned by the institution of orthodoxy to trust the church.

The devs posit that being virtuous doesn't mean anything outside of the system that decides what's virtuous. You don't get points for filling the kettle by the refectory because your superiors don't value you. Religious icons are scattered across the map, neglected, forgotten, but as you collect them your points increase. The holy relic you spend most of the game trying to find is an empty box. Lighting a candle by an icon of Mary is functionally identical to lighting a candle by a portrait of Marx. You can save a man's life, but it won't make number go up, because he'll hate you for it.

You don't get power or insight or protection from your score. You just get the chance to gather points a little faster. The pointlessness is the core of the mechanic. That's why it keeps showing up on the loading screens. Don't waste your time. It's good advice! Number go up, number go down, your agency over your circumstances - or lack thereof - never changes.

I think video game reviewers need to play Indika again. I think they should read everything twice. Think about the flavor text for each inventory item. Dwell in front of each lit candle after points are collected, and consider the surrounding environment. A woman kneels on her husband's grave. She tells you he wasn't loved. You light a candle in his memory; why? Notice where Indika loses ten points, or one hundred, or several thousand. Consider why points are only lost when another person does something to her.

Indika's prayers can only get her so far across the map. In the crane puzzle, she literally dismantles a literal church, rearranging it so that she can lead Ilya to his goal. It's impressive, but in the end it doesn't accomplish anything.

The pointlessness is the point. The level names are logical inside the bounds of the church, and nonsensical everywhere else. The Kudetsk is empty. The voices are all your own.

Let go. Wake up.

[alphabetatoes]

fantasies come true (n. kento x reader)

a.n.: hello everyone 👁️👁️ alr ✨ l i s t e n ✨ gamers, i was listening my musicals playlist on spotify and "fantasies come true" came on so i thought to myself 'hARK! what a great fic idea!' and here we are. also realized i hadn't posted anything in almost a month oops :)

feeling: evil :)

summary: you confess your love to nanami in your sleep (or do you?)

having kento nanami as a roommate seemed to only have one real drawback: your work lives were a hurdle neither one of you could quite get over. these conflicting schedules leave little overlapping breaks with your best friend. but that doesn’t mean you don’t try to carve out time for each other. one day, you’re able to leave the highschool early for what feels like the first time in forever. kento is still confined to his office, tidying up his last few pieces of business during overtime.

the two of you decided to go for a movie night, as it wasn’t too energy intensive and you’d still be able to enjoy each other's presence. kento watches as you eventually fall victim to sleep, making yourself cozy on his side. he admires your ability to find serenity, not quite ready to succumb to his own tiredness. he’d been looking forward to seeing you all day and didn’t want to waste a moment of it. 

the movie progresses on; a cheesy boy-meets-girl romcom. yet the plot feels a little close to home. and kento laughs to himself as you scrunch his shirt, anchoring yourself down to reality during whatever fantastical dream you seem to be having.

you start to babble in your sleep. it’s nothing coherent, but kento finds it endearing nonetheless. “…love you, kento.” 

his ears perk up in record time at the comment.

you yawn into him and repeat the sentiment once more. kento can feel the tips of his ears getting warm as you double down on your confession. he’s at a crossroads. does he acknowledge your comment? pretend like it doesn’t light a fire in his stomach, yearning to cross the line from friends to something more? kento weighs the options but settles on one. he pulls your frame closer and whispers a sweet “love you too, sweetheart.” in your ear. for now, he can revel in your confession. 

for now, he can finally be content.

“ken?” you lightly poke him awake, careful not to startle him. as he comes to, kento lets out a confused “hm?” sleep stricken eyes meet you in a daze, confused by his surroundings. you give him a sweet smile, the one that always makes him melt into a million tiny pieces, and brush his hair out of his eyes.

“you practically passed out as soon as you sat down.” just as he does, the reality of kento’s situation awakens as well. “thought you were the one asleep.” “seemed like you were having a nice dream though.” 

“too good to be true.” those sweet brown eyes pour into yours, hoping you might just know what it was about. but kento knows that’s not how it works. yet he takes it in stride. “so how was it? what great triumphs and tribulations did i miss?” kento sinks back into the couch. he watches as you give an animated retelling of the film plot (including voices), and a little part of his heart breaks. it’s bittersweet, but for now he would accept the platonic nature of your relationship. kento already had it in his mind that you would need to be the one to raise the topic of a more romantic dynamic. yet there was no doubt about it. he was smitten by you.

even for a moment- even if it was just a dream, he was able to have his own wishes feel like reality. and he’d wait patiently for the day you’d reciprocate. the day his fantasies come true.

[eucidianlyendless]

Okay, how do I do this,

Let's see uh

Okay I have nothing to copy and paste really, so I'm just going to write from scratch. Bear with me.

Hiiiii I'm Edmund Endless. I'm 18, as of last February. Seems important to put out into the world.

I'm a little weirdo. Or, well a tall one according to some people (is 5'8" tall?), But either way, I fully admit that I am in fact rejecting the term normal when it comes to my identity. I'm in fact very eccentric in between the fact that I consider things like slacks to be casual pants and almost always wear some kind of Hawaiian shirt out in public because I like the design of a short sleeve button up with desgny stuff, that definitely counts.

As far as hobbies go, I've had a bit of time to accumulate some, such as being an artist on paper and digitally, a rudimentary writer in the works, and then I look cooking and playing Minecraft (I am most certainly not a gamer but that will hopefully be something I can work on)

I also like to dress super femme [though, also, I see clothing as a thing all should be able to enjoy free of gendered norms, sooo-]. So far not anything huge since I'm working on getting a job as we speak, but once I have money flowing in, I plan to do more. I think skirts, fishnets, and makeup are all amazing things, and that's not even the start of it.

Edit: I've been considering Gothic Victorian attire... I think it's also called Gothic Lolita? Outfits I've found look cute and i wish I had them now-

Anyway, as mentioned in my blurb at the top, I am neurodivergent. As far as I know I Do have an official diagnosis but I don't know where they are because I was not the one who got them- but anyway I have Autism and ADHD. I like to think of them as additional overlays over my brain (I imagine ADHD as like the weird additional RAM space over with my left hemisphere for example) that have a few drawbacks but generally make me who I am. Everyone is a unique individual and I think that's one of the best things ;]

Formerly I was a proud owner of a surprisingly old cockatiel whom I love and cherish- he got to be 31, nearly 32, this year. And throughout the last summer, I also care for two cats- neither of which have any problem with my bird. Usually it's more a concern of if he'll bite them lol

Since my birds passing I've adopted two rescues who needed a new person and while they're not fully tamed yet, we all enjoy each other and I hope to further the bond with time and effort.

Anyway it's a fair warning that because of that I may or may not understand certain social cues, sarcasm, certain jokes, etc. I definitely understand text tones a little better even before people started employing the /srs or whatever stuff, but it's better to put that out there. I can also be a little blunt, but between autism and experiences, I do try to not be harsh if I can.

Anyway I'm running out of long things to list so I'm just going to put some additional facts down here

- I currently have at least one experience working on an alpaca farm, and as a result I have a couple vague understandings of the stuff that goes on there and why they're quite profitable.

- I really really want to dye a bit of my hair hot pink. I think it would be awesome and very outside the box. [Edit: I DID IT! I'M GONNA DO IT AGAIN eventually]

- I like scary stuff and I like silly stuff, and I especially like it when both are involved. Mainly because I see a lot of the same humor nowadays and horror doesn't always phase me (I was one of those kids who got into FNAF when I was younger so a lot of the feeling of being scared over those kind of things desensitized me a little.)

- I at one point wanted to be a YouTuber as a career, but most likely that will not happen due to the ridiculousness of the platform not likely going to mesh very well with my vocabulary at least half the time consisting of Fuck here and there- which is to say I will probably still eventually get back into that because I wanted to post things on there too.

- I've been getting into baking and I really want to try to make creamy jalapeno popper stuffed chocolate donuts from scratch. I also want to make a pizza from scratch :]

- I love Legos and I like making transformers out of them when I can figure out how to do it.

- I like music that is either from the 50s jazz era, older rock, shitposty songs, and then will wood. I/me/myself babyy :D

- I have read the entire Twilight series and shamelessly admit that I used to think it was the coolest thing when I was younger. Not So much Anymore.

- I'm a big fan of books by Rick riordan, James Patterson, and other obscure artists that right strange cool stories- such as The hitchhiker's guide which I also read the entire trilogy of four books.

- for some reason my default thought to looking cooler involves spikes and leather and you know I can't entirely say why. But I think it makes anyone look instantly cooler to be dressed in at least a cool leather jacket and heeled matching boots.

- I am in fact the person behind the two projects R.O.O.T and Enduralt. The former (Root) which I work on more because that's a long-term project and an original project. The other one (Enduralt) was just something me and an old friend kind of jumped back into for fun and I figured I'd keep the ball rolling as long as I can since I felt like it deserved to have its ideas shown in some capacity.

- I have a C shaped spine last I checked. It doesn't affect a whole lot as long as I'm careful, but I think it's an interesting fact to mention.

- through very roundabout means I am related to Johnny Cash, but not by blood.

- at some point I really want to have the space to build the model of an old car but retrofitted for modern road safety stuff since nowadays you need to have at least a partially electric car to drive on the road. I'd like to have mine look nice and cool.

- this probably should have gone upwards by the cake idea but I really like mixing foods together and at some point I intend to create my ultimate burger I've always dreamed of.

- also my favorite color is magenta and I am frustrated that it is hard to find that color in the kind of clothes I like to get because if I could I would have a lot of nice sweaters and skirts and stuff in magenta and it would be amazing-

Anyway, that's all I can think of right now, so unless I something start reblogging and adding more to the list, that's everything relevant. Feel free to ask more about that stuff and I'll tell stories like the weird uncles/dad friend that I am to people.

How the hell do I pin this-

[eccentric-nucleus]

so there's this old actionbutton review of prototype (that has apparently been removed from the actual website, which i guess is fine b/c on reflection the review overall isn't super good) that has a part that i think about a lot.

Prototype is clearly a game that was originally meant to be a challenging action game that took the concept of super-powered main characters out of the ego-trip where you simply explode in ever greater fireballs the entire universe, like a Final Fantasy character in a platformer, and into the realm of the thoroughbred racer. A realm where the power is a tool that must be used carefully, because there’s so much of it, that there’s too much of it. Restraint is what we play video games for, in a sense. We restrain ourselves from making the wrong choices. We take pleasure in our sense of timing. We enjoy learning and growing and doing and, above all, not doing (the same thing over and over, due to failure).

b/c like... yeah that's the thing with power? power invites complications; that's kind of what power is: the ability to affect change at greater magnitudes, which invariably means a reduction in your fidelity of control. unintended side-effects and all that. but the entire concept of the 'power fantasy' is about not having the drawbacks of power, & that's what video games are all about, so it makes sense that that doesn't really come up that much in games. leveling up is just Good, it makes you better at things, because if it made you worse gamers would find that to be bad design, etc

this also comes up constantly in progression fantasies. unsurprisingly!! b/c their thematic content is entirely the power fantasy, so of course getting more powerful is an unalloyed good.

there's another prose chunk in a similar vein i think about a lot that's from a wizard of earthsea, near the beginning: duny (as a kid, before he's named ged) has his island raided by barbarians and they're gonna burn down the town and kill everybody.

He had worked all night at the forge-bellows, pushing and pulling the two long sleeves of goathide that fed the fire with a blast of air. Now his arms so ached and trembled from that work that he could not hold out the spear he had chosen. He did not see how he could fight or be of any good to himself or the villagers. It rankled at his heart that he should die, spitted on a Kargish lance, while still a boy: that he should go into the dark land without ever having known his own name, his true name as a man. He looked down at his thin arms, wet with cold fog-dew, and raged at his weakness, for he knew his strength. There was power in him, if he knew how to use it, and he sought among all the spells he knew for some device that might give him and his companions an advantage, or at least a chance. But need alone is not enough to set power free: there must be knowledge.

(incidentally i think reading progression fantasies has made me a worse reader. they're frequently so wordy and yet nothing happens, and the writing never really says anything or has specific sentences that capture the mind, and so i've gotten into this really bad habit of skim-reading through them snatching out nouns and verbs. so now when i go back to reading prose that's actually, you know, good, i still end up skimming it and missing out on relevant details, since relevant details actually matter in real stories, instead of just being wordcount padding.)

anyway the rest of a wizard of earthsea is basically all about the relationship between knowledge and power and what responsibility comes with that.

i guess this is yet another post all about how i really don't like the thematic simplicity of all the progression fantasy but boy have i been thinking about that a lot as i've been writing other stuff. fun fact, 'goblin cave', my royalroad story, and 'blinded by the summer sun', the tmnt porn i've been writing, have basically the same themes b/c they're both actually about the blunt nature of power + the problem of needing power to exist in the world vs. the grotesque nature of people who seek only power. b/c as you can see by all the above that is kind of a thing i've been thinking about a lot recently. it's just one of them has turtle porn.

i mean i'm fairly sure i've mentioned it here also but they're very heavily influenced by dead zones of the imagination, which i would recommend everybody read. it's only like 20 pages.

To be more precise: violence may well be the only form of human action by which it is possible to have relatively predictable effects on the actions of a person about whom you understand nothing. Pretty much any other way one might try to influence another’s actions, one at least has to have some idea who they think they are, who they think you are, what they might want out of the situation, and what their aversions and proclivities are. Hit them over the head hard enough and all of this becomes irrelevant.

It is true that the effects one can have by disabling or killing someone are very limited, but they are real enough—and critically, it is possible to know in advance exactly what they will be. Any alternative form of action cannot, without some sort of appeal to shared meanings or understandings, have any predictable effects at all.

[...]

As long as one remains within the domain of theory, then, I would argue that simplification can be a form of intelligence. The problems arise when the violence is no longer metaphorical. Here let me turn from imaginary cops to real ones. A former LAPD officer turned sociologist (Cooper 1991), observed that the overwhelming majority of those beaten by police turn out not to be guilty of any crime. “Cops don’t beat up burglars,” he observed. The reason, he explained, is simple: the one thing most guaranteed to evoke a violent reaction from police is to challenge their right to “define the situation.” If what I’ve been saying is true, then this is just what we’d expect. The police truncheon is precisely the point where the state’s bureaucratic imperative for imposing simple administrative schema, and its monopoly of coercive force, come together. It only makes sense then that bureaucratic violence should consist first and foremost of attacks on those who insist on alternative schemas or interpretations. At the same time, if one accepts Piaget’s (1936) famous definition of mature intelligence as the ability to coordinate between multiple perspectives (or possible perspectives) one can see, here, precisely how bureaucratic power, at the moment it turns to violence, becomes literally a form of infantile stupidity.

and so on. that's power, baby! the power to define a situation and stop anybody else from objecting to your framing. by killing them!

[liyawritesss]

I just watched the new valorant cinematic "revelations" and my mind is completely blown away.

TL:DR: me rambling abt the things I noticed in this cinematic i.e. sage showcasing her combat/firearm skills, design choices for the cinematic, etc. I DON'T PLAY THE GAME FR IM JUST A LORE FANATIC SO IF I GET SHIT WRONG BE NICE TO ME

1) Riot has always been very good with the visual storytelling they do for valorant, and I think that taking the silent approach this time around, the only notable audio being the music, emphasizes the "quiet" or "mysterious" characters that are given the spotlight this time around - sage, omen, and cypher.

To delve a bit further I think it was a great design choice to have the music be the overlooming audio instead of the characters talking because as mentioned earlier it highlights the more quiet and mysterious characters we see represented now. I can speak for all character but right now i wanna focus on sage as she seems to be the star in this cinematic. Now correct me if I'm wrong in any of this but: sage can be seen as a more docile character who due to her nature and her radiant abilities can be seen as more of support, like a mediator, but in this cinematic we see the more ruthless side of her, and I'll even go as far as to say this is the side that made Brimstone see her as a qualified candidate for the VP AND his second in command. A side we as viewers, lore fanatics and gamers alike have yet to see until now.

2) someone in the comments noted that in Sage's locker there's a note that says something along the lines of "I'm not just your healer" and I find this so symbolic bc from what ive seen/read a lot of people play sage as a support character (correct me if I'm wrong) but this changes everything - it shows how once again the valorant agents are so complex and have layers to their intersectionality and its honestly refreshing to see that in a game, even if it's just a cinematic.

I also wanna note that I lowkey called this in my "drawbacks of their radiance" headcanons that I did for Phoenix, Neon, Jett, and Sage, of which I pointed out that self-doubt is more than likely to be a part of Sage's character given the practicality of her powers and the fact that majority of the time she's referenced, especially in fandom content, it's specifically in the realm of her being a support person, using her powers to help people. But this cinematic points out that Sage is (or possibly has already) growing out of that and is ready to showcase her skills beyond being a healer.

3) this is kind of an edit to this post BUT as I've been getting back into valorant and rereading the lore, I watched a video by Sir Jeppy explaining the valorant story line to date, and in it he mentions that the sage we see in this cinematic is actually mirror earth sage, and his evidence is one of KAY/O's voicelines which says something along the lines of "in the future you're no healer, you're a warrior" (or something like that, but i remember the term he used was definitely reminiscent of a more ruthless descriptor), and I just wanna say that parallel between earth 1 sage and earth 2 sage is so fucking good! It makes me wonder I the radiant wars do they ever fight each other? Does earth 2 sage play mind games on earth 1 sage tryna get her to turn on her own team saying that she's weak and that's all her team sees her as? Would we get a physical representation of internal conflict with sage? That's a route I hope valorant does take on the more cinematics they do...

And if they ever need a fresh storyboard writer...👀

[syrupspinner]

i just beat Slap City

by which i mean i did all the story mode stuff

i like platformer fighters. ive got like, 300 hours in smash ultimate, probably more in brawl from my childhood. as something of an indie aficionado, i totally respect something thats pretty directly inspired by a AAA game. platform fighters as a genre are already pretty derivative from smash, and whenever you dont have the copyright for a crossover spectacle, you usually aim for the competitive market. i mean, nintendo doesnt support melee as much as they should, but you know aether studios is gonna host rivals 2 tournaments for as long as they can.

but wheres the silly. i respect serious competitive gameplay, and as something of a hardcore gamer myself its what most of my gameplay looks like. but since smash tries to strike a balance between fighting game and party game, i think more games should silly it up like slap city does

the first clue is the fact at all that they had a subspace emissary mode. brawl is arguably the most casual-focused smash game, and having a platforming story mode is something of a clue to that. the general vibe is pretty ridiculous too, its pretty telling when the princess of saturn (who is also a nurse that things her fights heal people) is the only one taking this seriously. at least, i think? im gonna be real, most of the dialog just kinda bounced off me. like, they make fine enough jokes, but i didnt really retain any of it. i think its mostly because i was so antsy to get to the next level and see how it plays with the new character.

...or rather, to get it over with. yeah, youre playing the same 15-level story mode with everyone. this comes with the obvious drawback that you cant really tailor too much to a specific platforming to one character, but only most of the time. like, i like how in the second level, theres a branching path, and unlocking on of the routes requires you to know an obscure detail of how the characters moves work, like jenny fox's skateboard having its own hurtbox in her recovery. some of the more specific ones, like you having a unique chargable arial special, are tutorialized in the final room of the level. good shit, it encourages experimentation and it informs you of what you missed after you had that chance so you can replay it if you want. its a bit of a pain you cant just get all the collectables in one play of the level, but its worth it for the silly little experimentation bit. its more then the other platform fighter non-battle story modes, which all keep themselves playable for anyone. im impressed, because having a lower budget would be an easy justification for more copy-paste, but they really went the extra mile here. buuuuuuut playing all of them back-to-back still instills the feeling of playing the same story mode back-to-back

so, how about the fights? theyre silly, but theyre still like, actual fights. fishbunjin can hover in the air for like 3 full seconds charging up a thrown dumbell that ricochets like a bouncy ball. every single one of ashas special moves is an identical teleport. buisness casual man looks like hes supposed to be voiced by tom kenny. literally every one of goddess of explosions' moves is an explosion. this is like if everyone has the same amount of "what the fuck are you doing here" as wii fit trainer and im living. but heres the catch: everyone works as a fighter. nobody sacrifices playability for spectacle or silliness, it feels like they really prioritized having something enjoyable

so yay, play this game! especially if you have friends. im gonna close this out with a tier list, not of which characters are the most competitively viable, but of what characters i personally enjoyed playing as the most

[kyrodo]

Love can be as simple as having someone to wake up for. Choskey loves hearing my voice, sleeping with me on call, waking up when I do and spending as much time with me as possible when he doesn't want to be responsible. Which is silly but he spends more time with me than anyone else. He tries to include Red as much as possible. And this is the picture perfect example of what a poly should be.

I know at times Red still gets a bit jealous that happens a lot less. I've always had difficulty listening to Red talk about work for more than an hour knowing there are people waiting for me to get back to the call. Though I had difficulty before Choskey. When I used to want to get back into league to tweeting negative things. He would drag on for hours. I can't stand for long hours on end. If I were in a comfortable position it would be a bit easier for me, like on the bed. But I simply don't have a great attention span after 20 minutes of one sided conversation. And Red doesn't stop at 20.

So at least Choskey will be there to relieve some of that as well. I wish I was better at it but I'm not a machine and I like spending time gaming or being on vrchat. If he did it in vrchat it would be a different story. Because I deeply enjoy being in that kind of environment. I would be able to listen to Red for hours there without fear that Choskey would be wondering where I disappeared to. And I would be in a game like space with beautiful scenery. I would be much more attentive there as long as I'm the one being talked to. Otherwise if we're watching hours of YouTube content I would probably open a game and start playing it.

And I do enjoy being social. I miss the old days when me and Choskey would invade people that are fun to hang out with. Choskey is more comfortable spending the entire day alone with me than he used to. So it complicates being able to make progress on single player games or look at porn. Which is a drawback but not by much. I am more than several magnitudes happier than I used to be before Choskey, spending days and days having nothing to wake up for, just finding ways to waste time by myself like adofai practice, other games, or instrument practice. Or more bitter ranting on more public spaces than just here.

Moving to Marcus's place alone was emotionally crippling, especially given the timing. I desperately needed Red to comfort me while I was heartbroken but I could not. And I went back to what I was before Ronnie, spending time alone with myself, even moreso than when workaholic Red was there, or rather not there.

Marcus allowed me a career that I wouldn't hate myself for and a comfortable job. Temporarily a place to stay. Red coming back made it less lonely again but the reminder that things were never that great kinda bummed me out. We simply don't do enough together because of how different we are.

Choskey allows me to keep Red while still having someone to love that I can spend a lot of time together with. I am first and foremost a gamer before anything else. And opportunities for social interaction is another thing I wouldn't have without him there even though we don't get much of it while he's worried about job searching. Choskey also gave me the bravery to be able to face people in vr and use my voice. Without him I would never have been able to grow into vrchat.

I love being a cat. I love being cute and admired by people. I love finding constructive conversations in places I wasn't able to before. I love finding social successes with people, from adding new people to my friends list to making someone's day, or just having a good talk with people. Or even just being petted by someone while they talk to other people. It is addictive. And it is so much more meaningful than all the time I spent coping alone.

And I just wish I had gotten here sooner. Because then I wouldn't have even had the time to brood on Twitter enough to have met you.

I won't fault you for not understanding my situation when we met, especially given how I used to behave particularly around you. But you don't have any excuse for not understanding me now.

Back in norcal I spent so many days alone waiting for Red to get back from work only to not do much of anything other than get food and listen to him rant about work. Failing to find programming jobs inn silicon valley. Having to work temp at peloton yet again after finally deciding it was taking too long to find something else. Melting in the heat or getting bitten by mosquitoes, or fighting off ants in the bnb we stayed at. I spent so much time alone with my thoughts. And Red would always get back extremely late or I'd stay at work with him extremely late sleeping in the car or on the couch. I was glued to Twitter posting about league of legends or whatever other games I was playing and posting videos of pentakills and backdoors, or tft. Hoping someone would follow me that actually cared.

I needed you. And now I need Choskey. And this time I'm actually getting what I need. None of this mechanical bullshit about "being rewarded". I have someone who actually loves me, cares about me, wants to spend time with me, wants to talk to me, so much so that we can barely leave each other on call. And all you gave me subtextual bullshit. Calling me a client instead of a friend yet somehow still acting like you had a crush on me back. I am so fucking over you.

It's not my fault you gave me a hard time, that was a choice you made yourself. I'm not sure what I would have done in your position given the understanding you had at the time, or whoever else was around, but there is so much shit I wouldn't have done. When I had my reality check it was clear I couldn't stay the way I was. So I had a choice to become just like you out of spite or to be everything you're not. And I made the right choice. I don't give a fuck anymore if you're still doing the same old bullshit to other people or not, my role in your life is over.

[llycaons]

whenever I google spells I don't know there's alwaysa reddit thread like 'is this worth using' and half the time the answer is NO with a big list of like, the enemy can save against it, it's concentration, it's not a lot of damage, etc. and I know gamers are notoriously hard to please and obsessive about getting MAX efficient damage every single time but have these chucklefucks thought about the fact that context matters a great deal in a lot of these cases and a spell that has some drawbacks (as nearly ALL spells do) can come in clutch for a specific scenario? that concentration spell that only does x amount of damage might have prevented the enemy from making a strength save he needs to move and then saved the life of someone who was down. context matters!!! read some hxh and then you will realize the power of flexibility, specificity, and creativity in battles

[captainmdhridoyhossain-blog]

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[aethelar]

All the world’s a game

And Izuku’s the main player. A My Hero Academia AU where Izuku has a gamer quirk.

-

Izuku Midoriya’s abilities started developing when he was three years old, marking him as one of the eighty percent majority that had a quirk. They didn’t give any sign that they’d started, of course; no small objects flying towards him, no fire hiccoughing out when he sneezed. Nothing obvious at all in fact, but quietly behind the scenes, his quirk developed.

“An invisible quirk,” the doctors called it, a year later, when Izuku’s x-rays came back free of extra toe joints. “It’s possible it has an obscure activation criteria, or an effect which hasn’t been noticed yet.” This particular doctor pulled a rusty but at least somewhat sincerely sympathetic face at Izuku and cautioned him, “You may never find out what your quirk is, I’m afraid.” He laughed, then added as though he couldn’t resist the pun, “Invisible quirks can be very hard to see.”

“Shows what he knows,” Kacchan scoffed when Izuku faithfully relayed the explanation. “If you were invisible you’d be impossible to see. Stupid old man.”

“I don’t think that’s what he meant,” Izuku said, pushing himself into a jog to keep up with the taller boy. He ran, as he always did, for precisely seven seconds, then walked for four, then ran for seven, then walked, and so on.

“Keep up,” Kacchan yelled from several paces ahead.

Izuku ran for another seven seconds at top speed before his feet slowed stubbornly to a four second walk.

-

“Maybe,” he theorised to Kacchan several months later, “maybe it’s a brain quirk.”

Kacchan wrinkled his nose. “What, like a super nerd? That’s lame.”

“Izuku’s super smart thought,” Tsubasa said thoughtfully from his other side. “He’s really good at homework.”

“That’s even lamer. How is homework going to help him be a hero?”

“I don’t think it’s homework.” Izuku frowned, trying to find the words to explain something he wasn’t even sure existed. “It’s like… I always know where I am if I’ve been somewhere, but I have to actually think about it first. And I don’t know how I know but I do, you know?”

“Oh, that’s a quirk?” Tsubasa asked, wings shifting in excitement. “I do that too! I thought I just recognised places. You think I have two quirks?”

“Yes, I mean, no, but - as in, I think I have a map? In my head? Of where I am now and where I’ve been before. But a moving map, not a paper one. And I fill it in when I go places.”

“A map?” Tsubasa’s wings drooped. “Oh. I can’t read maps. They don’t make sense.”

“Maps aren’t quirks and you’re both idiots,” Kacchan said. He pushed himself off from the wall and landed with a harsh thud on the ground, palms sparking with just enough force to slow his descent, and Tsubasa and Izuku scrambled to follow. Tsubasa opened his wings into a controlled fall with a graceless but effective flap, while Izuku turned around and began the lengthy process of climbing down hand over hand.

“Slow,” Kacchan complained. The fact that he couldn’t scale the same wall didn’t seem to occur to him, nor the fact that it was a smooth stone, entirely lacking in footholds or anything to grip.

“Sorry,” Izuku said, dropping the last step and waiting the required four seconds before he was ready to run. He was up to eleven seconds now before he needed a rest, but climbing was harder - he could manage six, and never on glass, under an overhang, or in the rain. Six seconds of going vertically up pretty much any non-smooth surface, but then his arms and legs would seize up and he’d go tumbling to the floor until his required four seconds of rest were up.

(He’d learnt the hard way.)

 -

“I’m hungry,” Izuku explained again.

“You want to be hungry and in trouble? Move, Deku!”

“Kacchan,” Izuku said, voice wobbling dangerously close to tears, “I’m hungry. I can’t run. It doesn’t work.” And, because Kacchan still looked mutinous, he sniffed and added: “It’s part of my quirk.”

Kacchan threw his hands up with far too much exasperation for any six year old to reasonably feel, then settled the issue by dragging Izuku into an uncomfortable piggy back. “Anything else I should know about you being hungry?” he asked, jabbing an elbow into Izuku’s side to make him stop squirming.

“Um. If I’m hungry for too long I get sick?”

“Your quirk is the most useless thing ever, I swear.”

 -

“Here,” Katsuki said, roughly shoving a packet of crisps, a juice box and an apple into Izuku’s bag. He knew better than to give them to Izuku to hold directly; he had two hands, and therefore could hold two things, and if given any more to hold had a bad habit of dropping them on the floor like an idiot.

Because he was. An idiot. One who couldn’t be trusted to take care of himself, which is why Katsuki was feeding him, so he wouldn’t go hungry and stop running again.

“Ah, Kacchan - wait -” And the second Katsuki let go of the last item, Izuku staggered to a halt and sat down hard.

“Deku,” he growled. “What.”

“It can only hold ten things! You put too many in there and now it’s full.” Izuku shrugged himself out of the straps and tugged forlornly on the top handle, but the backpack stayed resolutely on the floor as though Katsuki had tipped lead bricks into it instead of food.

Tsubasa took the opportunity to lean over and peer inside the bag. “There’s still space,” he said helpfully. “It’s only half full.”

“And anyway! I’ve seen you carrying things for Auntie, there’s no way you can’t lift that!” Katsuki had seen Izuku casually lift a table to move it around the living room. For a scrawny mess of big eyes and freckles, Izuku was sometimes freakishly strong.

The scrawny mess in question heaved at the drooping school bag, twig-muscles standing out on twig-arms as he failed to make it budge. “They weren’t eleven things, Kacchan! Quirk says ten max!”

“Your quirk is a pain. Tsubasa, carry Deku’s bag.”

“‘Kay,” the other boy said, lifting the backpack up with the tip of an outstretched wing. “Have you got any more juice boxes? I finished mine.”

“You can have mine,” Izuku offered. “Then I’ll be able to carry it again.”

Katsuki knocked Tsubasa’s hand away. ���No,” he said. “It’s for Deku when he’s hungry. I’ll get you one after class.”

“‘Kay.”

 -

“Ten things,” Kacchan said later. Izuku turned towards him warily; he recognised the tone of voice. Kacchan was planning.

Kacchan’s plans only sometimes went right for others involved, but it was never a good idea to try and back out. Wariness was about the best Izuku could manage.

“Any ten things?”

“Um,” Izuku said. “I think so? I tested some of it, and it’s definitely ten. But if they’re in something they only count as one.” He got a somewhat blank look, so pulled his bag towards him to explain. “Like, here. My pencil case. It’s got ten pencils in it, right? But it’s only one thing because it’s a pencil case, so it counts as one. Even though it’s actually ten. Or, well, ten pencils plus one case so eleven. It’s eleven, but it goes in my bag as one thing.”

Kacchan turned the case over in his hands. “Huh,” he said, squinting at Izuku. “Could you put a hundred pencils in ten cases and put those ten in one big case and put that in your bag?”

“Yeah, I think so! So long as they fit. I did some testing when I discovered it, I think I have the notebook somewhere -”

“Nerd,” Kacchan interrupted with a roll of his eyes. “I believe you, I don’t need your diary.” He snapped the pencil case shut and handed it back - then doubled over laughing when it slammed Izuku’s hands to the floor as soon as he took it.

“Ow - Kacchan! What did you - you added something to it!”

“A sticker,” Kacchan wheezed. “I put a sticker in it and you actually can’t - oh my god Deku your quirk - a freakin’ sticker -”

“Ten of anything, Kacchan! Only ten!”

Anything, it turned out, really meant anything. The backpack wasn’t big enough for Kacchan’s liking so they retrieved Izuku’s mum’s suitcase from under her bed and filled it with the heaviest things in the house, including, at one point, Kacchan himself. Ten items or less, Izuku lifted it no problem. Add the sticker as an eleventh, and it crashed to the ground.

That part wasn’t so bad, but Izuku had two hands as well, and each hand could hold one of any item. Including Kacchan. And the sofa. But add the sticker, and, well, that’s how Izuku’s arm broke.

“Shit,” Kacchan swore, staring at it white-faced. In any other circumstances Izuku would’ve protested at the language, but he could be forgiven for being distracted.

“It’s going backwards,” he said with a morbid fascination that was probably the only thing keeping the pain at bay.

“Don’t touch it!” Kacchan slapped his good hand away. “And don’t tell Aunty! It’s not hurt that bad. I’ll get you a chocolate bar tomorrow if you stay upstairs and I’ll tell Aunty you’re sick and don’t say anything.”

“But it needs a plaster - ow!”

Izuku’s eyes filled with tears and Kacchan dropped his arm as though burned, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, don’t cry,” he flapped. “I’ll get a plaster, you’re fine, right? Plaster, bed, chocolate, don’t tell Aunty, stop crying. Right?”

“Two chocolate bars,” Izuku argued between sniffs. “And I want the All Might plasters, the normal ones aren’t as good.”

“Done,” Kacchan agreed, and hustled the shorter boy down to the bathroom. The All Might plaster was dutifully stuck on Izuku’s shoulder (they weren’t sure if it would work there, but seeing as his arm hurt when it was touched the shoulder seemed the safest place), Izuku himself was practically barricaded in his room, and Kacchan prepared his best innocent smile for lying through his teeth to every parent in the vicinity.

It was foolproof.

The fact that Izuku woke up in the morning with his arm completely healed only proved how flawless their planning really was. (That and the unmistakable power of All Might plasters).

 -

“Where’s Deku?”

“Here!”

“Shit, don’t do that! Make some noise or something, seriously.”

“Sorry, I forgot I was crouching.”

“Your damn quirk Deku, I swear to god.”

“Sorry, Kacchan.”

 -

“Again, Midoriya,” the gym teacher said. “And this time actually try to run the course without stopping.”

“But sensei, I can only manage thirty eight seconds of sprint and it takes two minutes and four seconds for each lap -”

“Midoriya!”

Izuku growled wordlessly and stomped back to the starting line. “Middle school is the worst.”

“You want me to hit him for you?” Tsubasa offered, standing ready with a stopwatch. He eyed the teacher, carefully comparing his wing strength to the man’s arm muscles in the way Katsuki had taught him. “I can hit him for you.”

“No hitting teachers, Tsubasa. No hitting anyone. We’ll get detention.”

“You and Katsuki will rescue me,” he said with easy conviction. “You’re heroes, it’s what you do.” It made Izuku smile at him, briefly lifting his mood. His old teachers had got used to the oddities and restrictions his quirk put on him, but even a month into middle school and his new teachers didn’t seem to have caught up. In a class full of visible quirks and Kacchan, Izuku was easy to overlook; it was an annoyance, but not one worth getting into trouble for.

At least, Izuku didn’t think so. Kacchan had practically exploded with protective fury when a teacher had tried to stop Izuku eating between classes, but Kacchan liked exploding so it probably wasn’t a good test.

“Heroes don’t hit people,” he told Tsubasa. “Unless they’re villains.”

“Yeah, but villains are people who disagree with heroes, and you ‘n Katsuki are heroes, so you can hit anyone who disagrees with you. It’s how it works.”

“It’s really not -”

“Midoriya! Less talking, more running!”

Izuku fought the urge to glare back at the teacher. Tsubasa, far too honest with his feelings and unused to fighting his urges, glared double.

“Let’s get this over with,” Izuku muttered, settling himself into ready position. “Count me down?”

When he was done, the time on Tsubasa’s stopwatch showed a clean six minutes, twelve seconds, with a precise time of two minutes four seconds per lap. Exactly the same as the previous two times Izuku had run the course.

He might not be the fastest of runners in a straight out sprint, but at least Izuku was consistent. If it wasn’t such a pain to stop and eat when sprinting made his hunger ran out he’d make a good long distance runner, but it was a pain, so he didn’t.

Also quirk use was forbidden in gym class.

“You need to push your boundaries,” the teacher said with a disappointed head shake. “I won’t tolerate slacking. Here, collect these and take them back to the equipment cupboard.” He pressed three stopwatches into Izuku’s hands, and Izuku could only watch in resignation as one of them tumbled to the ground.

“I’ll get it in a sec, sensei,” he said dully and trudged off to deposit the two in his hands before he could be accused of being disrespectful of school property.

Tsubasa jogged up, the fallen stopwatch carefully retrieved. “I can still hit him. You’re sure you don’t want me to hit him? Kacchan won’t mind.”

“No hitting people, Tsubasa.”

“Even villains?”

“Sensei’s not a villain.”

“Oh. Do you want me to hit him anyway?”

“Tsubasa.”

 -

By the time he was fourteen, Izuku thought he had most of his quirk nailed down. He wasn’t sure what the common theme was - he had suspicions and ideas, but seriously, a gamer quirk? Ridiculous - but he was pretty certain he’d got the features in place.

The map he’d started filling in as a four year old covered most of the city by now, with long spider legs arching out along the train lines. It didn’t include a compass, but he could usually tell which way was which just by tracking his position along the map as he moved. It was on the one hand less useful than the map his phone gave him as it didn’t show places he hadn’t been, but also more useful in that he could zoom it into buildings and bring up floor plans if he concentrated hard enough.

His phone didn’t give him as many headaches though.

The issue with only being able to hold one thing in each hand, or ten things in a bag, required some creative thinking. Packing for a trip anywhere was the worst, everything had to be grouped in stacks of ten and placed in other bags just to allow him to pick up a suitcase. His school bag was usually ok, but carrying shopping was a logistical nightmare. Thank god for multipacks, that’s all Izuku was saying.

On the other hand, there didn’t seem to be a weight limit on what those items were, as Kacchan had so spectacularly discovered when he dropped a sofa on Izuku’s head and broke his arm. Izuku hadn’t found much use in his life so far for being able to deadlift a bus (plus up to ten passengers, but the bus was the impressive thing), but he was pretty sure it would come in handy as a hero.

And the other discovery from that day with the sofa, although neither of them had realised it at the time - sleep was good for Izuku. None of this waiting around, lying awake in bed unable to drift off; if it was night, and Izuku was in a bed, then he slept the healing sleep of the dead right through to sunrise and woke up in perfect health. On the plus side, he never had a nightmare, and never had an illness or injury follow him through to the next morning.

On the downside, Izuku didn’t budge from bed until the sun was up. In summer, he woke early. In winter, he still woke kind of early because sunrise in Japan only ever got as late as around seven-ish. But if he needed to be up before then, well… No. Not physically possible. A villain could burn the house down and tango on the ashes, and Izuku wouldn’t stir until sunrise came.

He got surprisingly used to skipping sleep all together when he needed to be up early. That and apologising for being late, he got the apologies down to an art form.

(He hadn’t yet unlocked the feature that wouldn’t let him sleep when enemies were nearby for the simple fact that, at fourteen, Izuku didn’t have enemies. Nor had he discovered yet that he couldn’t sleep without a bed because why on earth would he try to sleep without a bed? He’d once mortally offended Kacchan by offering to take the floor when they were having a sleepover, and Kacchan had responded by drowning Izuku in blankets and smothering him with pillows until he apologised and promised never to do it again.)

And, of course, his stamina. By fourteen, Izuku could sprint for forty six seconds before his forced rest of four seconds. Climbing gave him twenty three seconds, which was usually enough to reach some kind of ledge or windowsill to recharge his energy. The rain was still deadly, as was the bucket of water he and Kacchan had experimented with that other one time Izuku broke his arm. He could hang stationary on to the side of a building practically endlessly, but if he reached his twenty three second limit of actively climbing, he just dropped.

Incidentally, Tsubasa had got surprisingly good at catching him.

So, that’s Izuku’s quirk: he navigates weird, he sleeps weird, he runs and climbs weird, he carries things weird, and if he ever gets too hungry then he just goes weird. He’s only once pushed his hunger long enough to make himself sick, which was more to find out his limits than anything else. They’ve probably changed in the past few years, but when he was twelve he had two hours, twenty six minutes between being unable to run and being so hungry that he threw up in a trash can. Thirty four minutes after that and he’d been shivering and sweating and unable to stand, and eight minutes after that he’d been found by Kacchan and yelled at and force fed corn soup from the closest vending machine.

Ah, fond memories.

All of which led, approximately seven months ago, to Izuku deciding: “Yuuei. I’m going to apply to Yuuei.”

“Well, duh,” Kacchan said, making a face at him over his spicy chilli noodles. “We’re going to be heroes. Where else would we go?”

“Doesn’t Shiketsu train heroes as well?” Tsubasa asked. Kacchan rolled his eyes and kicked him in the shin.

“We’re going to be number one hereos,” he amended. “All Might went to Yuuei. If I’m going to be number one and Deku’s going to be number two then we need to go to Yuuei too. It’s logic.”

And when Kacchan put his unique stamp of approval on one of Izuku’s plans, that was it. The plan was happening. He, of the green hair and the twiggy, bus-benching arms, would go to Yuuei and be the number two hero.

Off the edge of his mental map of Tokyo, in a part of the city that he hadn’t yet unlocked the map for, a small marker started flashing in his mind.

Main quest: Yuuei Entrance Exam. Achieve a passing grade in both the written and practical portions of the famous hero class entrance exam and begin your journey to becoming a pro hero...

[manyblinkinglights]

my one cousin and his wife are running a bakery in China and he’s the one I’m passing my 1080ti to... he’s so thrilled & I NEED TO FLOG MYSELF INTO GOING TO THE POST OFFICE WITH IT PROPERLY THE INSTANT I GET BACK.

[thefirstknife]

Are we really making divinity a disability thing. I don't think disability makes you need a gun that increases the damage dealt to an enemy by 30% (which only one other thing, a super, gives) with literally no drawbacks

No drawbacks? Are we ignoring that the person running Divinity is not doing dps?

Divinity buffs others because the person running Divinity is not doing dps. If the buff is too small, then running Divinity makes no sense. It would be better for the sixth person in the team to just run dps, even if they miss, or at least rocket launchers. Because of this, Div is really not that good in anything other than raids (or any activity with more than 3 people). The drawback is that it's niche, it pulls one person out of dps and requires them to sacrifice all other weapon utilities and damage because Div occupies an energy slot and special ammo. You have to use a primary kinetic and non-exotic heavy that you probably won't get to use on anything other than add clear before the boss. Running Div is such a drawback that most gamers are pissing and shitting when they have to use it.

It's also an exotic raid weapon that you have to do a special quest for. I thought working to earn something should be rewarded.

And yes, it's not strange that it's been largely used as an accessibility tool. Since it buffs damage, that means that the rest of the team can do sufficient dps even if they don't have god roll weapons (which is often something new players and new raiders don't have). It also means that you can have someone on Divinity and a few people on their god rolls while someone else can run something they feel more comfortable with even if they have god rolls (I personally heavily dislike linears and feel more comfortable on Witherhoard and rocket launcher, it's my comfort loadout that makes me feel less anxious about messing up in a raid and anxiety is also a disability).

Since it creates a bubble on the target and hitting the bubble acts like hitting crits, it helps people who have trouble aiming, or issues with their vision, or issues with their motor skills. It also helps when the boss is exceptionally wiggly (Atheon) or when you have to stand beneath the boss and hit a crit on his head (Taniks). It also helps when the crit spot on the boss is BIZARRE and incredibly finicky to hit (Golgoroth). I genuinely cannot see shit on Golgoroth. I either suggest Div or run Div myself because at least if everybody misses, whatever shots do hit, will do extra damage. It cuts down my time in Golgoroth's rancid soup pit by 2 damage phases.

It's unsurprising that a lot of people run Divinity to help players with various issues and disabilities. It's 100% a weapon that many disabled people see as their saving grace.

The aggressive calls for a nerf (out of nowhere?) are steeped in ableist talking points. Salta himself started his essay by saying that one of the most important things in the game should be aim and that aim should matter and that Divinity removes the need for aim. This is incredibly ableist since, as I've noted, it takes two seconds to realise that there are people who struggle with aiming due to a wide range of disabilities. So saying "aim should matter" is basically a shorthand to say "if you can't aim, you don't deserve to raid." This is insane.

After that, Salta moved on and said he wouldn't remove the crit bubble so that can stay and we can have our aim help (thank you big content creator for your mercy), but that the debuff has to go because it's too much and makes the boss fight boring (boring for who?). Again, this talking point entirely ignores a large section of the players who just don't feel comfortable running certain weapons and the damage buff helps them. It also helps people who are new to the game and haven't been grinding god rolls for three years or are unable to grind current activities that would give them those god rolls. Not everyone has a team to run Duality consistently in 20 minutes every day. I'm fine running Duality, but I don't like the visual mess of the Nightmare realm and the snapping of the camera when dunking standards (I am prone to motion sickness).

I'm saying this to illustrate just how many possible problems people can have that you may have never thought about or even knew existed. This is identical to how dismissive people are of real life disabilities and accommodations that disabled people need.

And ultimately, sometimes I just want to get the raid done and I use Div to cut it short. People have lives outside of the game. Most players' job isn't to play Destiny for a living. You can be perfectly abled and want to use Divinity to make raids an hour long instead of three. Why this should be anyone's problem is beyond me.

As for "it creates a meta and everyone has to use it for day 1 raid race" consider: I don't care. Day 1 is a special competition that happens twice a year. We are not going to be tuning weapons and abilities for that special competition at the detriment of the majority of the players for the rest of the year. It's also laughable that this is about "meta" since if Divinity is gone, there will be a new hard meta for day 1 raids. The only problem with this meta is that gamer dudebros don't like being a support class. Tale as old as time. It's identical in every single video game. Being support and not doing damage emasculates them so they don't want to do it and they think it's objectively bad and objectively boring to everyone. We could really cut this whole drama short if they would just admit that.