#humans are obsolete now apparently

[vihola]

It's kinda funny that my entire team lost our jobs not because of the war but because of AI. What a time to be alive

[hassians-sernuk-boyfriend]

Hey I thought you might have more knowledge about this since you've romanced both Hassian and Reth already so I wanted to ask... I'm on level 3 romance with Reth and just got his pin. I haven't started a romance with anyone else. I'm level 4 friendship with Hassian, and when he saw my Reth pin he said "I see your heart belongs to another. I suppose I was foolish to think you'd reserve it exclusively for me." And I was like WHAT is he saying that he thought we were in a relationship already??? (Which I assumed could be because sometimes my dialogue gets bugged and villagers say things related to quests I haven't finished yet) But I checked the wiki and apparently that's his reaction to seeing a pin regardless of the player's status with him!? So if that's true, then does it basically confirm that Hassian canonically has a crush on the player character no matter what and is always secretly hoping for a relationship with them? But if we romance someone else then he gets sad and jealous and finally admits what he was too shy to say before, knowing now that he's too late? Big news if so. Really fits into the brooding tragic romantic tsundere personality that he hides underneath a cold exterior.

oh my god I did not know he did this even if you weren't in a relationship with him.

Realistic answer is: probably this is a bug

Character based babbling:

Okay so I rotate and chew on Hassian and his relationship with romance and traditional/alternative lifestyles So Much, especially bc he is one of the only characters to actively express jealousy in a world where polyamory is at least partially the norm.

continuing under the cut

To me, a big crucial part of his character that people forget is that he is from an ethnic minority group and he is Not from the culture that Kilima people refer to as "Majiri". We don't yet have a name for his people, but we know they are nomadic, bluer skinned, and have tighter curled hair, for instance. (Majiri I believe is the word for the whole species, but like the Ainu people in japan, I assume that when we're talking about culture, it's about the people whose language coined the word)

we know he's a hopeless romantic lad, and based on his friendship dialogue we know he fantasizes about "a hearth and someone to share it with" which is an adaptation of the majority culture of Majiri. Also within the culture we've seen, marriages and Long-Term relationships seem to be monogamous (booo) (let Eshe marry them both imo)

While pursuing Hassian, his romance quest involves him consulting Chayne for "Traditional Majiri Courtship Customs", which Chayne mentions are obsolete and Kinda Weird to follow, but this to me is, like, Extremely Interesting, because it marks one of the first, clear instances of Hassian putting in the earnest effort to integrate into the majority culture and he starts by doing earnest, wholehearted, misguided research. Because he's never done this before, but respect towards other's cultures is something he cares about a lot. (Because no one else has it for his?)

Hassian's jealousy might stem from the romance novels, normal irl-human emotions, or also a cultural difference that hasn't been addressed.

Majiri instances of romantic jealousy/monogamy we do know of: Delilah + Badruu + M.. Mavil? I can't remember, Eshe + Kenli + his sister, Sifuu (possibly through integration) + "moving on" from Taylin

He's a big stupid boy with a big dumb heart and he WANTS things and very clearly WANTS to be loved, but his tsunder ass has a lot of hurdles that make it hard for him to reach out, especially since integration means an inherent loss of his own ethnic identity as an immigrant into a culture that has been implied to shun his lifestyle.

[galactic-rhea]

I am totally here for Cars worldbuilding ramblings

THANK YOU, USER FAN OF THE SOAP

I'm glad I'm not scaring all of my audience lmao.

Now, let me talk to you about how nightmarish ableist is Cars 2.

You see, I was subjected to a very special kind of torture called "I have two nephews who were obssesed with Cars 2, not 1 or 3 or Planes, but Cars 2. And they would watch it for three times, every day, for about two months. And I had to be with them".

Which I'm sure did something bad to my brain, my standards of what's annoying in a movie are wrecked and I can still hear dialogue per dialogue on my mind.

Cars 2 got away with a special kind of ableism that I want to believe any other movie wouldn't have been able to get away with on our current era, all because is Cars.

But there's also A LOT OF violence in that movie, we see on screen characters violently exploding, being subjected to torture and also the equivalent of open-heart surgery, black market of organs, and a literal bomb being put into an individual. Because is Cars it just could do so.

The thing about Cars 2 is that all the villains are disabled cars. They're unable to function properly and constantly will be unable to turn on their engines, are called slurs and, in the case of the rich-mafia adjacent ones, literally have hired medical assistance (a tow truck). And all of this because we're told that their parts have been descontinued, which technically gives us the grim implication that they're basically left to die slowly as they can't keep changing their parts. There aren't humans, and this isn't a human-post apocalyptic universe (no matter how much people Insist, i refuse to accept that theory). Which means that the fabrication of these parts and thus, the ones in charge of the literal poblation's development, must be other vehicles, most probably Cars.

Very powerful and rich Cars like it goes beyond a comparison in real world, they aren't the ones in charge of meds or health care, they're literally in charge of the whole production/birth of Cars, and by deciding what parts to make and what parts to descontinue they're slso deciding who gets to live and who gets to die.

And this isn't possibly a "new" problem, is probably something rooted in the Cars' universe culture for thousands of years. If let's say the Wright brothers were, idk, bikes. They created the first plane (which then died in seconds), so they're basically Victors Frankesteins and this is legal, this is absolutely completely normal in this universe because otherwise there's no way for new models to exist.

So every generation of vehicles have this deep, ingrained thought of " we're building the generation that reemplaces us, in every way they're better and as soon as there's a better version, we will cease to exist and cease to be produced".

I remain of the theory that parents in Cars basically buy parts and assembly their own child and then as time passes, they change parts until we get the general "adult" model. But this also means some parents might be unable to buy parts and what not, does this stunt the child development? Probably.

In Cars 3, Lightning McQueen is unable to keep compiting because the new gen is of much better tech, so I assume it's already happening to him what I just explained: At some point, the production of their parts/ maintenance becomes obsolete. So Lightning can keep on living, for a long while, but no matter the reparations or even the modifications, apparently you can't completely modify a car otherwise you would have a Thesseus ship predicament.

In Planes, Dusty is capable to get several modifications, but they aren't extreme. However we see a little car that's able to change into a plane, and we see he apparently has a split personality , which makes me a bit icky because -gestures-, Hollywood also loves to make awful reps about DID. But, this seems to support the idea that extreme changes= basically a different person in the Cars universe. And an awful idea is to face the familiars of a vehicle that got into an accident "we can save them by almost completely rebuilding them, but might as well be a different person".

So back to Cars 2, all these villain Cars are disabled and suffering because someone, literally decided that isn't worth it, these models can't continue their existence when our engineers/doctors already created a new version.

And they must go along with it! They must accept it, because their society has been accepting it for hundreds of years by now! And so the movie decided to make them the literal mafia and a violent murderous group of terrorist and spies, what a move.

The movie tries to make Mater to be some sort of disabled character as well, he keeps being called dumb, ugly and whatever for the whole movie, he's all covered in rust and shamed for an oil leak. And nothing of this is resolved or really addressed, because not only his problems aren't even comparable to those of the villains (is implied he's rusty and all covered in bumbs just because he choses to), his character arc is basically that he's capable of solving a mystery not even the spies figured out at the time, the classic "actually i can be useful" that Hollywood loves.

And we learn the motives for the villains, and like, yeah, that's awful! All those murders and a political fraud to try to get rich by owning oil, but no one gives an ounce of sympathy for a group of characters that literally need medical assistance almost 24/7. The mafia guys can afford to hire tow truck and the big multi-millionarie villain can afford his constant surgeries, to the point of being able to disguise himself and look "normal"

And it drives me crazy that no one mentions this, but I can't blame people, most people weren't subjected to this movie three times per day for 60~ days.

If anyone read this far, you should thank to @soapysudz for fueling me (GET IT?!! FUEL?! -recorded laughs-)

[literary-motif]

Act II — The Clouds

Scene iii — The Truth

previous scene // overview // read on ao3 // next scene

Warnings: references to depression, brief mention of greif/mourning, alcohol

Asirel leaned back in his chair, gaze fixed on the empty ceiling above with a dimness in his eyes that made you regard him wearily. The cup of chamomile tea was forgotten on his desk between you as you wondered what to say to break the burning silence. It seemed to grow heavier with every passing minute, Asirel losing himself in his mind. 

The night brought out secrets. There was something sinister about the bleak darkness, the quietness it brought with it, and when you were in the right company, tired as the strain of the day slowly bled out until only your drooping eyelids remained, there was the yearning urge to connect. 

It was human nature, you supposed — the need to seek out company and comfort.

Quietness. Darkness. The night brought desolate loneliness. Your isolation was no longer apparent by the anonymous crowd of people around you but instead weighed on your heart with the silence it brought. The night was cold, despite the warmth emanating from the fireplace in the far corner of the study. The moon shining faintly over the treeline by the window to your right was not enough to stave off the sentiment that something was off.

It had to be Tara. The meeting must have left you shaken in some peculiar way. There was something there, looming over your conversation with such a finality that made you want to seek her out again, tell her to be careful, tell her to double check security, and keep close to the exits. 

You were restless, longing to feel the chilling night air on your skin and lose yourself in the darkness outside while you walked down a deserted road. You wanted to steal a moment for yourself and put your thoughts in order. This oppressive feeling in your chest — tightening and straining until you were sure it would snap any minute — made you wonder if all of this was worth it in the end.

The thought was futile. It was too late for you. 

The Collective had its hooks in you, having taken a part that you had so freely given when you first started, and which was impossible to regain now. This was the life you had accepted, chosen for yourself. You could not turn your back on it. 

But Asirel still could. He was just at the threshold. 

No matter how much you could feel the late Mr. Cain’s eyes bore into you from beyond the grave, his piercing gaze making your heart seize as you considered bringing it up to Asirel, you pushed aside the guilt for the idea and focused instead on the overwhelming heaviness in your chest. 

It was the weight of the world — its politics, its structures, its people, its secrets — pushing down on you, crushing you, grinding you into dust. If anything, he should be happy that you cared about his son enough to want to spare him this. 

He should consider the promise you made to him obsolete. 

“Asirel?”

The man’s empty gaze flickered down, clearing minimally as he looked at you. “Yes?” he said, voice barely louder than a breath. 

You were painfully reminded that he was still grieving, still grappling with the loss of his father, and trying to make sense of the world he was thrust into while wearing his ring. It made the strings in your chest pull taut, the tightness nearly enough to steal the air from your lungs. 

It’s not too late for him.

You averted your gaze, trying to find the right words to tell him that. 

You could feel Mr. Cain’s presence, could see the steely blue eyes boring into you from the other side of the desk as they so often did in the last two years, looking beyond all the layers and facades you put up to stare into your soul — before he averted them to look at the desk in front of him. His gaze settled on his leather-clad calendar. 

You blinked, looking at the black book just by Asirel’s elbow. Hesitatingly, you reached out a hand. “May I?”

He followed your gaze, sliding his father’s calendar towards you. “I wanted to take over some of the meetings he had scheduled,” he said numbly. “I canceled them instead.”

You took the calendar. It fell open on the page it was marked — the week of his death. There was nothing peculiar noted in the black ink of his neat handwriting. 

You turned the page to the week before that, reading through his meetings and the little comments he had written beside them. ‘Follow-up phone call’ next to lunch with the head of a research project for NASA. ‘ROSES!!!’ next to the reminder of the dinner reservation he had made for him and his wife. 

Most of the meetings you knew of, some you had even attended alongside him. Your gaze flickered to Saturday. ‘Double Security’ was written beside the simple word ‘Coffee,’ and the unsuspicious address of the Supreme Court of California.

You froze, schooling your expression to remain neutral. You did not want to alarm Asirel. 

The sinking feeling in your chest made it hard to breathe. 

He had met with Samuel Kennedy. Why had he not told you?

Why did he decide to double security? Did he suspect something was amiss? Did he not die of natural causes as the initial report claimed? You felt sick, head spinning with possibilities, keeping your face carefully blank of the turmoil raging inside of you. 

Did Kennedy murder him?

You looked up at Asirel, finding him already staring at you with furrowed brows. You cleared your throat, snapping the calendar shut and handing it back to him. “Thanks,” you said, voice raspy. You were on the verge of blacking out. 

Reaching for the chamomile tea — nearly cold by now — you sipped it carefully, hiding behind the mug and willing the liquid to help you calm down. 

One step at a time. You would have to talk to Mr. Rhoades about this later. Asirel did not need to know about this. He did not need the added pressure, the crushing thought that his father could have been murdered when this was merely a conclusion without a solid basis.

He deserved to know, certainly. But not yet. Not yet. When you were sure about this, you would tell him. You did not have the heart to utter the words that would crush him. 

“Asirel,” you said, gripping the mug tightly to anchor yourself to the present. You would give him a way out. You needed to propose it to him at least. “It’s not too late to—” you cut off, feeling your phone buzz. “To—” You trailed off, wondering why Mr. Rhoades was calling you in the middle of the night. You knew he worked late when he was on the verge of untangling something particularly complex. 

Maybe he had stumbled across this very thing as he looked into Kennedy — a hastily scribbled note to remind the judge that he had coffee with a dear colleague of his, reminding him to slip the late Mr. Cain a little extra.  

You picked up. 

“Listen,” he hissed immediately, voice frantic. You heard panicked shuffling, your assumptions strengthened at the raw fear in your informant’s voice. “Where are you? Are you alone? I need— this— God!”

“What’s going on?” you asked, initial shock at the revelation Rhoades was surely about to tell you twisting into saddened dejection. 

He gasped breathlessly, hissing out in a tone so sharp you could feel it dripping with venom, “Kennedy! I found out— I— this case!”

Asirel glanced at you questioningly, resting his elbows on the desk in front of him to lean closer to you, silently conveying his interest. You had to make a choice. 

In truth, you were selfish. You did not want to be the one to tell him that his father was murdered. You did not want to be the bearer of this bad news, break his heart and tear open the barely-healed wound of his grief. You did not want to be the one causing him this pain. You did not want to be the face he would remember seeing when thinking about his father’s murder. 

So, you put Mr. Rhoades on speaker. “Talk to me. What’s going on?” 

“Are you alone?” he asked frantically.

“No,” Asirel answered. 

“Asirel’s here.”

“No!” he barked. “This is confidential.”

Your gaze flickered towards Asirel, taking in his frown, the slight tilt of his head as he looked at the phone as if wanting to argue with Mr. Rhoades. You had trusted him once already, he had given you no reason not to trust him again. 

And he did deserve to know.

You clenched your jaw, preparing yourself for his wide-eyes, for the curiosity to melt away and be replaced with heartbreak and panic. “Tell me, Rhoades. What do you have on Samuel Kennedy?”

What meeting did he have on Saturday at two? What kind of coffee did he drink? With what did he spike that of his company?

“There is no going back from this,” he said tensely. The shuffling stopped. You were met with thick silence from the other end of the line. “This will change everything!”

Asirel glanced at you, confusion clear in his eyes before he looked at the phone again. “What do you mean?” he asked, perplexed. You felt the pressure on your chest increase, the rope twisting tighter — a moment and it would snap. 

“Say it, Rhoades.”

Your father was murdered.

“The creatures are real!” he said, voice eerily calm. “Werewolves, vampires — they exist. They— they exist and Kennedy has connections to a group called” — you heard shuffling again, the rustling of papers — “Trimedian. I don’t know what they are yet, but there is a relation to these mythics.”

You blinked. Asirel was dumbstruck, eyes wide with a shock not quite like the one you had anticipated. “Rhoades,” you said carefully, “how much Whiskey did you have?”

“I’m not fucking drunk!” he snapped, voice sharp with both indignation and fear. 

His emotions were palpable, a rare occurrence with the stoic man. It took a lot to rattle someone as professional and weathered as him, as carefully detached from the world so that nothing could surprise him anymore. 

His suggestion was absurd. Vampires. Werewolves. Real? No, it was preposterous. But you trusted him. You knew if there was information you could count on — bet your life on and wager the entire world for — it was what Rhoades gave you. Despite reason, you found yourself believing him. 

“I don’t joke with business. There is proof. I have proof and it’s— this case, it runs deep, deeper than I would have thought possible. Kennedy — I don’t know much more, but he’s dangerous!”

You felt the world around you tilt slowly. Your hand shot out to grip the desk, finding a tether to keep yourself upright. “An— and you’re certain?” you asked quietly, as soon as you found your voice again. You blinked hard, trying to get your vision to clear. 

Asirel had frozen, impossibly pale as he looked into the distance unseeing.

This was better than the alternative, you supposed. Or was it?

A murder or vampires and werewolves? Both gnawed at your insides. Both made you want to drown in the sea — one out of sorrow, the other out of desperation for escape. Both shook him to his core, but now at least he had something to keep his mind off the fact that his father was dead forever. 

Mr. Rhoades sighed in defeat. You heard splashes of something, then the unmistakable sound of him gulping down a glass of what you knew was whiskey. “Yes,” he said hoarsely. “I’m deadly certain.”

You nodded, accepting what he told you as fact. It was a dogma. It was an axiom. One can draw a straight line between two points. The whole is greater than the part. Memento mori. Mythics were real. You accepted it, grappling with the realization of the shift in reality. 

“Who knows?” you asked. 

This was sensitive information, the kind that could plummet societies into the ground in a heartbeat and derail the entire world with a word spoken at the right time. This could change the world forever if proof was released, if the wrong people knew too much. 

You glanced at Asirel, his face ashen as he slowly turned his gaze to meet yours. He was struggling to understand this new information, uncertainty, disbelief, and fear waging a war inside him. 

It’s not too late for him. Your thought from a moment ago taunted you, as you took in his shaken expression. You would give him a way out. 

The way was locked now. The door had fallen shut behind him, and he stood no longer in the threshold. There was no going back now. He knew too much. He was in too deep — and it was your fault. 

It’s too late for him now, you reasoned, a hollow feeling spreading through your chest. 

You should have kept him out of this. You should have taken the call in private, but the selfish relief you had felt, the assumption you had made when you saw it was Rhoades calling, had lured you into a false sense of security. 

And was it so despicable that you did not want to tell the son that his father was perhaps murdered? Was he?

Whatever hope there was to save him from this dreadful life lay shattered on the ground of his study, now that he knew the truth, now that he knew something he could never unlearn again.

This changed everything. It was the end of the world as you knew it, and the beginning of something else entirely. 

“I’ve told only you,” Mr. Rhoades said. You heard him pour something again. “And your ward knows now. The three of us.”

“Keep the matter close,” you told him. Your mind was slowly moving on from the initial shock, turning the situation around again and again to formulate a plan for this new world you found yourself in. “And protect this with your life.”

“Clear.��� He did not hesitate.

“Look into these ‘Trinities,’ but be careful. This is new territory, and I wouldn’t want to make enemies just yet.”

“Trimedian,” he muttered absentmindedly, gulping down another glass. “Will do. Goodnight.”

The line went dead before you had a chance to answer, a reprimand for his self-destructive coping mechanism — whiskey, his dreadful, life-saving vice — on the tip of your tongue. 

You pushed yourself to stand, swaying slightly as you picked up the phone. Asirel was still frozen in place. You left the room, dialing without really seeing the screen. Vic picked up on the third ring.

“Yes?” His voice was deeper than usual, and you felt a tug of guilt at the realization that you had just woken him from some much-needed rest. 

He needed to know, but you hated to burden him with this as well, drag him into the twisting mess of unreality. Murder. Vampires. Werewolves. “I’m sorry,” you could not help the apology from slipping past your lips. “Rhoades called. There’s something you need to know—”

[dates-with-the-void]

Void Headcanons: Dere Types

So I had this idea while trying to sleep last night and thought it might be fun, plus a lil exercise for myself to do.

I'm mainly just going for the main 4 Dere types, and which ones they'd somewhat fit in my personal opinion.

-

Kuudere

Vel'Koz is a very analytical and logical Voidborn with a very specific interest in acquiring as much knowledge as possible, with him serving the Watchers as a very close second/almost first place with this directive. Naturally any interest he shows in anyone is met with the same treatment as with all the rest, just the special case being not immediate disintegration.

When it becomes a romantic interest- while it doesn't seem much different to how he normally acts- its very apparent if you've been with him for a long enough time. Because he has taken time to know your love language(s), your personal interest, quirks, habits and the like. For him- as someone who was made for a specific purpose of learning by destroying it for his creators, this is very "dere" of him.

-

Kuu-Yandere

Cho'Gath is in the same vein as Vel'Koz is in terms he's primarily focused on his goal and his goal alone- which happens to be just fucking eating. He's a sadist, as part of what makes the tiny meat-snacks taste so good is their futile efforts to stop him. He cares little for anyone, much less for his own kind out of the prospect of them taking his food instead. If you're in his way you're on the dinner platter all the same.

This shifts when he takes a romantic interest, encapsulating the "dere" part into the "yandere" instead. What better way to make sure you're safe than to keep you close to him at all times. He's good at watching where he steps, you'll understand how good the flesh of those who are afraid tastes. Only you have the privilege of sharing a meal with him.

-

Tsun-Yandere

Kha'Zix is the first, and perhaps the fastest to take a special interest in anyone outside of just hunting them, after all he changes with the prey he consumes. It would come with denial, and justifying any interest as just a worthy prey to consume. A unique trait of yours to provoke undivided attention from him, to learn your routine, to isolate you where you can't escape- wouldn't that be a useful trait to adapt into himself for future hunts? It causes a weakness in them anyway- it caused him to develop one with you, and whatever weaknesses he has needs to be remedied with the DNA of that prey who made it in the first place.

When he inevitably accepts the fact this interest in you is a romantic one, and that he now desires a mate. You are his and his alone. Sometimes he'll still play the "tsun", but just to play with you. Watch you squirm to get his affections again, just to switch it up as a "yan" and make you squirm a whole other way underneath him. Its adorable and delectable to him how he gets those reactions out of you, and that he's the only. one. to.

-

Yandere

Bel'Veth is a confident and powerful woman, she's aware of who and what she is, and knows what she has to do in order to achieve her goals. No matter how long it takes, no matter the amount of webs she needs to weave to achieve the desired outcome, it all falls into place exactly where she wants it to be. She has no use for those who seek to stop her, she has no use for those who choose to follow blindly the creators who made themselves obsolete. There's nothing she wouldn't do to get the world she craves out of its carcass.

This Voidborn hands down would embody the term "yandere", she's aware how fragile and how easily manipulated humans can be. If you do not accept her the first time around, she will simply make you accept her and disguise it as your choice all along. She's not worried about the what ifs, because there is no what ifs with her.

-

Yan-Deredere

Rek'Sai has mostly removed herself from her original directive as to be a mother of the Xer'Sai, and she is a dedicated mother in protecting her children and her nest that is the desert. Her priorities are her children, and regardless of what she feels towards someone, if her children don't accept them neither will she. This is a double-edge sword when the children do accept someone, as now that person has no choice but to be pulled into the burrows and to be the secondary parent.

She isn't heartless though, while at first it may be more necessity to show you're her mate and a parent of the Xer'Sai. As she quickly develops romantic interest she becomes far more affectionate and loving to you than previously- to a slight suffocating degree. She wouldn't want to do anything to upset you however, and within reason will provide you space- just not freedom.

[onouwu]

Dr. Omiata's Depravity

Dr. Ellie Omiata, a cardiologist hailing from the 30th century, had achieved everything she could in her profession. Her expertise had saved countless lives, but in the sterilized and automated reality of her time, she felt an aching void.

Ellie became a cardiologist with the desire to protect and care for vulnerable life. Throughout her life, she had a hero complex, an intense desire to shield the fragile, the helpless, the downtrodden. She read countless stories of damsels in distress and imagined herself the knight in shining armor. However, her fantasies were much different... darker, not the hero, but the villain. She hoped to be a heart surgeon, but her desired profession was obsolete. Surely it was an amazing thing, highly successful doctorless organ transplants... but for Ellie, this left her without a place in the world. There were no knights, and now no heart surgeons. People no longer needed saving, she thought. Longing for purpose, Ellie became a temporal explorer, and with countless tales and fantasies in her mind, she took a one-way trip to the savage lands of a war-torn timeline. landing herself smack in the middle of a medieval Nordic civilization.

A stark contrast to her futuristic, technological world. It was a time defined by relentless war, brutal violence, and no place for the frail. Standing amidst the icy landscapes and hardened warriors, Ellie's dark skin and voluminous hair made her a beacon of otherworldly charm, a symbol of exotic mysticism from foreign lands that had not yet been witnessed by these people.

The king, intrigued by her unique appearance and captivated by her advanced medical knowledge, spared her the typical fate of an outsider. They sensed an opportunity in Ellie's keen intellect and apparent strangeness, a utility that could serve their cause well. Yet she didn't ask for a comfortable position within the castle. Ellie asked for something different. Her desires outshined what was believed to be common sense. Her wish granted, Ellie found herself granted a position many loathed, yet she coveted – a captain of the guard. The final word on strategy in the battlefield.

Despite her lack of allegiance to the kingdom, she relished the role that offered an intoxicating cocktail of power and intrigue. Her knowledge of human anatomy, blended with her understanding of martial arts, rendered her an indomitable warrior on the battlefield, effortlessly thwarting the many adversaries that dared to challenge her. Despite her desires to be the hero, she found the most thrill in being the warrior. the ender of heroes and villains alike, what she was... it was hard to tell.

Ellie wasn't moved by battle, what she wanted was power. A sense of control over life and death that she had never felt in her time. The more she acted on her whims, the more she felt that maybe her desires were sick, depraved... selfish. However, there was no going back. From now on, she would fulfill her deepest desires. Her weapon of choice was a large war hammer. A tool of blunt heavy destruction, she felt like this was the best way to exert force while giving her control over how it was applied.

Ellie thought back to the tales of delicate, fair-skinned women being hoisted upon the white horse of their saviors. The desire to live that fantasy was all she could think of, and now she had the position to do it... or some strange version of that.

Ellie wasn't able to ride into the sunset like in the stories, but beggars cant be choosers, and in this world, the desperation of savage war brought everyone to the battlefield at times, and slaughter was blind to beauty. Frailty met quick ends. Not for Ellie though. This was her moment - a crude, perverse twist on her romance fantasies. There was no romance, only salvation in the blood-soaked ground. The savagery of war a canvas where she could paint her unique narrative. Her gaze, wielded like a precision tool, was constantly scanning, evaluating, searching. Among the hordes of battle-hardened soldiers like a depraved beast. Some day, Ellie's eyes quickly fell upon a woman – blonde, fierce, yet possessing a delicate grace. Her pale visage a vibrant beacon. The woman was like a strikingly vivid palette amidst the monochrome of warriors, an unexpected anomaly in a battlefield bereft of grace.

Ellie became the self-appointed guardian of this precious gem, determined to protect her from the clutches of her own bloodthirsty squad which had a hunger for easy pickings. The sight of this radiant woman made her heartbeat race, not with bloodlust but with a deep, undeniable fascination. It was as if the chaotic battlefield had morphed into an exhilarating treasure hunt, the treasure being these living, breathing, beautiful Nordic women. Ellie's intentions were clearer to her than ever - to salvage these creatures from the cruel jaws of war, and to preserve their splendor for herself. Ellie could see the perversion of her instincts in full display, but the desire was so great, she couldn't stop herself. The battlefield, a dreaded arena of death, had now become her playground, a hunting ground to satiate her unorthodox desires. The rush of adrenaline in her veins was palpable as she locked eyes with the blonde beauty.

She was yet another savage on the battlefield, but with the precision of a surgeon. Even as a predator, surely her prey would at least be grateful for a better outcome than death, she thought. As they engaged, the woman's sword was fast, though Ellie herself was graceful, and predicting. She studied this game of war like chess and became a grand master. Ellie struck at the perfect moment, sweeping the blonde's feet from beneath her, casting her to the earth.

She then kicked away the sword, leaving the woman defenseless and bewildered on the rough battlefield floor. The sight of this exquisite creature, rendered vulnerable amidst the grit and grime, filled Ellie with an unprecedented sense of desire. Every exasperated breath filling this magnificent form lit up Ellie's senses. It was nothing like her fantasies... it was better. The battlefield had always been a stage for displaying might, but for Ellie, this was a new, intoxicating form of dominance.

With her adrenaline surging, Ellie approached the woman cautiously, the woman's chest heaving vividly beneath her. The blonde was defeated, awaiting the cruel and merciless strike of the heavy mallet, but defiant. To the look of confusion in those blue eyes, Ellie gingerly placed the head of her war hammer over the woman's billowing chest. She stood there in awe, feeling the rapid pulse of delicate life through the handle. As she pressed down harder, the woman's heartbeat became more vivid, then stuttered, a defiant drumroll against the encroaching steel.

Ellie reveled in the sensation. The strength of this woman's heart, its indomitable vitality, was now at her mercy. It was a testament to the woman's vibrant life, yet it was helpless under Ellie's power. The heart struggled and strained under the oppressive weight, succumbing slowly to the inexorable pressure.

Ellie observed the woman's battle for breath, her struggle against the metal, with an admiration tinged with disbelief. This was her treasure, her trophy of war, and she found herself enchanted by the rawness of this spectacle. Even as the woman's vigor ebbed away, her confusion turning to exhaustion, Ellie was in awe at the fight she put up. Her eyes, once fierce, now pleading and confused, fluttered close as unconsciousness claimed her. Finally, Ellie lifted her weapon.

As the woman lie there unconscious, the feeling of her heart's struggle was vivid in Ellie's mind. She straddled the woman and listened in. Its beats were soft and slow but recovering.

A surge of satisfaction rippled through Ellie at the sight of her captured prize, this fair-skinned angel now her responsibility. She had now to protect her trophy from the inevitable spoils of war, a task she accepted with a curious blend of anticipation and determination. This was her battlefield, and she had just taken her first treasure... alive. Ellie, carrying her new trophy, departed from the blood-soaked battlefield towards her home in the kingdom. Usually, a mere shelter from the harsh Nordic weather. With a blend of anticipation and caution, she bound the woman's wrists and ankles together, taking care not to make it too tight.

She gently lowered the woman onto the bed, her taut form a stark contrast against the rough-hewn linens. Ellie then lied down beside her, enveloping the unconscious woman in a tender hold to warm her. The role she played shifted between pet, trophy, and love at Ellie's whims. Her head found a resting place on the woman's chest, and as Ellie closed her eyes, she was serenaded by the rhythmic lullaby of the woman's recovering heartbeat.

With every beat that echoed against her ear, Ellie found herself more and more captivated by the living, breathing prize she had claimed. Her fingers tentatively ventured across the woman's body, exploring the gentle curve of her waist, the softness of her relaxed belly. She traced the delicate blue streaks beneath the woman's pale skin - the veins that carried life and vitality within this ethereal creature.

Ellie marveled at her fortune, her chest swelling with a sense of triumph and disbelief. She had taken her first victory, and claimed s supple, delicate, breathing trophy with a heartbeat as her spoils of war.

As she lay there, the woman's steady resilient life lulling her into a trance-like state, Ellie knew she was in the right timeline.

[misc-obeyme]

various chats mention "bufo egg milk tea" as the devildom version of tapioca/boba and for a long time i assumed it was just a made up word for some devildom animal. fast forward to me looking up various real life animals for non-obey me and to my surprise bufo is just latin for toad!

Anon, this is absolutely hilarious to me! Because as it turns out, I discovered that the word bufo actually meant something in a similar way, but it was quite some time before I started playing Obey Me.

I first encountered the word bufo while watching Adventure Time where there was a character who was a wizard by the name of Bufo. He was, you guessed it, a toad. But I just figured they made it up. I mean it sounds like a wizard name & that show was all over the place so I never once suspected there was anything more to it than that.

And then I think it was years later, I was researching constellations… you know, like you do. And I discovered that there are actually a lot of what they call obsolete constellations - ones that someone made up but that nobody really uses anymore. And one of those was, in fact, Bufo, the toad. I just about lost my mind. I was like WAIT the toad wizard’s name was Toad?!?

This is so funny to me because it’s very similar to your experience it just happened in a slightly different way lol.

But as I’m sure you discovered, there’s apparently a whole genus of toad that they call bufo?? I shouldn’t be surprised they’re always using Latin words for genus and species names.

Now my question is this. Are these demons really out here drinking toad egg milk tea? Or is that just what they call tapioca? Like it’s the same thing as boba but they call it bufo eggs because they’re demons & it fits the theme? Or they are drinking literal toad eggs??? Because yo… I mean okay they do kinda look like boba. And it’s not like humans don’t eat fish eggs so… maybe it’s good? I dunno, I like my milk tea sweet & for some reason toad eggs sound like they’d be salty lol.

It’s kind of like that time they said Satan flew off the handle due to some issue with a “La Mort de Socrate” pizza. Like?? Guys, that’s the name of a neoclassical painting. At least toad eggs are probably edible? What the hell is that pizza supposed to taste like???

But then they also have things like black tapir? That is an actual animal that exists. I don’t know if people eat it, though.

And then there’s Quetzalcoatl brains. That is the name of an Aztec deity. Often depicted as a feathered serpent, so I can only assume it’s supposed to be some kind of equivalent to mythical snake brains??

Okay okay sorry I got a little off topic lol. I just find quite a lot of the things they use to name foods somewhat baffling. But thank you for sharing your discovery with me, anon, it made me giggle! And now perhaps others too can know the truth of the toad eggs lol.

Though now I’m like what other such nonsensical things are they naming Devildom foods that I’m probably unaware of…

Anyway, I was going to include a picture of toad eggs, but… yeah it’s kinda gross. Y’all can look that up yourselves if you want. But here’s Bufo the Wizard instead.

[jvstheworld]

The Buffy Re-watch: S1E8 (part 2)

I, Robot, You, Jane

How did Buffy follow Dave? He was driving a car all the way across town, how did she keep up?

Xander coming in with the useful info. He has lived in Sunnydale all his life (probably) and would know that the 3rd largest employer in the town had shut down. That would be huge news. Also his uncle worked there.

Buffy make a Spider-Man reference to spider senses and Giles does not understand. Probably thought she was turning into a spider demon. I do not want to see that.

Does anyone read out loud what they type? Just curious.

Oh Malcolm, you've showed your hand too soon my guy. Now Willow is mistrustful of you.

And back to the tech, good or bad, debate. Yes, it can help society but it can also hinder and stunt other parts to it too. Both Jenny and Giles have valid arguments, it's just about getting the right balance between the human and the virtual. That being said, say no to AI and support real people and their professions, eg artists, actors, writers etc. Please support the WGA and SAG-AFTRA during their on going strikes. Told you in my last post these tangents and rants would happen again, I knew they would because I wrote it in my notes.

So Moloch being the evil dick that he is, is erasing people medical histories as a nurse didn't know about a student's allergy and they most likely died as a result. Allergies are no joke.

Dave is being a sketchy guy and tries to kill Buffy by electrocution.

Dave was really just a good guy who got mixed up with the wrong ones, he didn't deserve his fate. But when did Fritz get behind him?

Next question: how did Buffy not notice the dead body in the room? She walked in pretty far and looked around but did not see the body until she bumped into it.

News reports on the radio in Giles' office about more shit that Moloch is doing.

Jenny knows about demons! Gasp. Though if you live in Sunnydale you probably should. It's no like they keep themselves hidden all the time.

You never see phonebooths anymore, the convenience of mobile phones rendered them obsolete. Though if you lose signal on you phone, run of of charge or just straight up lose/break your phone, phonebooths would be useful.

I kind of like the look of Moloch's tech body. It does give me Captain EO vibes though.

Okay, how realistic is it that neck breaks that cause instant death in the way the Moloch does? Paralysis I can understand, but sometimes you kind of doubt it if it really kills someone. I know he's a demon in tech body so will be very strong, but sometimes they just don't look like they would actually kill someone. Or I have seen Dr Mike react to them too much so now I'm doubting it too. But you bet your ass that I will be complaining about some of the chest compressions we'll see on this show.

A man planning an assassination attempt on his mother is not a good thing, Moloch. Unless she was a truly horrible person then could understand, but still extreme.

Our big bad is trapped in his tech body thanks to the work of Jenny and Giles and Buffy ends him with a well timed duck. I say that's good teamwork guys.

Giles is right, tactile experiences matter. It's linked so well with human memory that the absence of it can leave a memory harder recall.

Where does Jenny dangle the corkscrew from?

Buffy, Willow and Xander's dating histories will be littered with weirdness. Vampires, demons, witches, slayers and apparently a previously mystical ball of energy used to break down the barriers between worlds. Yeah, I know about Xander and Dawn getting together and having a baby in the comics. I do not know how I feel about that.

Tomorrow we talk about the horrors of puppets and talent shows.

[coffeecatttt]

On Starfield

The more I play Starfield, the more I get annoyed at how incredibly uncreative and unambitious its vision of a futuristic spacefaring world is.

There is a lack of any distinct culture among the game's different planets and factions. Aside from different aesthetics between the UC and FC, and the different political structures, there is basically no distinct religion, ideology, practices, or real sense of identity across any of them.

All of the non-joinable factions are the same. They're spacers, mercenaries, pirates, or cultists. They don't have motives, they don't have goals, they don't have agendas, they're just there for you to shoot on sight. In terms of gameplay they are all identical as well - they don't have different equipment, tactics, etc.

There are some positive nods towards these ideas at times, like the two major religions, but these rarely come up. There are also things like Vlad's "pirate speech" that hint at more distinct culture, but he's he only NPC in the game who talks this way - even other pirates don't.

Enhance?

I also have to call out how badly Enhance breaks the setting.

This is technology that apparently lets you cheaply, safely, and easily alter your appearance in nearly every way. Sculpt your body. Remove signs of aging. Heal scars, skin conditions, and tattoos. Change your sex characteristics. All for 500 credits.

Yet you never meet an NPC who changes how they look regularly. You never see anyone experimenting with radical new looks, or experimenting with different gender presentation. You never hear about the medical implications for things like quality of life.

Obviously some people wouldn't want to make use of Enhance for various reasons, but the knock-on effects to society would be massive and nearly irreversible. For instance, wouldn't being able to constantly change how you look become a class signifier?

This also extends to gameplay - why isn't there a quest to track down an assassin who keeps changing how they look? Why can't you do the same to infiltrate a corporate HQ?

Starfield also features implants which are implied to be brain interfaces of some kind. You can install (and even easily swap) chips that plug into your head that make you more persuasive, intimidating, etc.

Why doesn't the impact of cybernetics that can alter human intelligence and capability ever come up? You'd think that this would be highly controversial - basically requiring workers to get modded or become obsolete. You'd also think the religions of the setting would have thoughts on these technologies and how they affect the human body as well.

There are already profound discussions about the impact of AI happening in our society, and this technology is barely a couple of years old. Why hasn't it completely changed Starfield's setting after presumably being around for many years now?

LGBTQ Stuff

This also more broadly ties into the game's trans and non-binary representation. Even though Starfield features a pretty big variety of fashion styles, hair colours, etc. and even lets the player select non-binary pronouns, you almost never come across anyone who is visibly queer-presenting. Nobody has fun hair colours, and you absolutely never see any kind of gender bending.

This isn't a cultural thing in the game - gay and lesbian relationships are frequently mentioned and seem commonplace, and it's clear there is no persecution of LGBTQ people in the setting.

Despite this, pretty much everyone presents as cis and heteronormative, even though this is a futuristic setting with all the tools available for maximum gender expression. It would have been great to see visibly AFAB people with facial hair, AMAB people wth femme presentation, or androgynous people who aren't obviously one or another gender. But we don't.

And for all the talk of pronouns, so far I haven't found a single NPC who uses they/them.

Starfield's vision of the future is boring

There are plenty of other questions beyond politics, culture, identity, presentation as well, that I haven't even touched on, like the fact that the game can't decide how its communication technology works (do people have the internet? email? do phones exist? why can't I just call or text people?). But I think the point I'm making here is pretty clear.

Basically, the more I play of Starfield, the more it just feels like a massively boring setting that squanders every single chance it has for creating a vibrant, colourful setting that feels truly futuristic.

This game doesn't need to be Cyberpunk 2077 - it has a different setting and different priorities. But it almost never, ever explores any of the ideas it sets up at any more than a surface level, it never bothers to pursue them to their conclusions, and it never offers answers or explanations for why things aren't more interesting.

What makes me most disappointed is how this seems to reflect on Bethesda as a game developer.

If this flat, sterile, unambitious vision for the future is the best that Bethesda can present its players, what does that say about the creative direction and leadership of the studio? Is this a reflection of its own team makeup? Or is it a reflection of the future it wants to see?

[artificialqueens]

Hands are Tied (Adorney/ABC) - Candy Cane

A/N: found this one in the backlogs and its short but angsty so this is for anyone who likes to get stabbed in the chest <333 hope yall enjoy and u can always go find me over at @artificialcandycane

The last year has felt like absolute hell to Adore. Every time she takes two steps forward, it feels as if the next moment she’s taking five steps back. It’s infuriating, and she is so fucking tired. She keeps trying and pushing herself, but there’s no payoff. She still hides away parts of herself, she still pushes away people who get just a bit too close, and she still wakes up every day alone. 

  Adore wants to give up completely, she’s well within her rights at the very least, and she probably would if it weren’t for little moments like this. She curls up tighter in Courtney’s lap, soothed only by the knowledge that at least she has her friends. At least she has people like Courtney.

  Speaking of, her friend is currently playing with her hair. It’s long right now, and probably needs at least a trim, but Adore has been too tired and busy to do anything about it. Courtney doesn’t seem to mind, though, just holding Adore and braiding her hair as if she has no cares in the world like it’ll be just the two of them until the end of time. Adore had to work hard for her carefree attitude, which makes her a little jealous of Courtney having it so effortlessly.  

  Adore presses her face into the bare skin of Courtney’s thigh, and sighs softly, feeling more relaxed than she has in a very long time. She could stay like this forever. 

  “You’re precious,” Courtney says teasingly, gently scratching her fingers on Adore’s scalp.

  “No, you,” Adore argues, lifting her head just enough to be audible. 

  “Why can’t we both be?” Courtney asks, giggling as she does. 

  Her laugh is almost intoxicating, it fills every inch of Adore’s body with warmth and joy like a dagger to the chest. She loves Courtney so much it should be illegal, and she doesn’t care that it hurts to love her. Courtney is this golden human being and their love is a fact of life that she doesn’t ever want to risk losing. 

  Only three things are certain in this crazy, painful world that Adore lives in- death, taxes, and Courtney goddamn Act.

  Adore huffs and buries her face into Courtney’s buttery, soft skin (damn her), trying very hard not to think about how this is the most at peace she’s been since she saw Bianca several months ago. They’ve all been swamped, Adore knows that, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling a little bitter at all the time Courtney and Bianca have spent together lately. 

  She knows that she just misses her friends and needs to reach out to them more and call them more or whatever, yet every time those two send a selfie to the ABCD group chat, Adore is reminded of how obsolete she is. She’s their friend, and they are her best friends, and nothing will change that, so why is there a throbbing darkness where her heart should be every time they do anything… couple-y?

  “You’re certainly thinking hard,” Courtney comments, though Adore can hear the disapproval in her voice, “I was hoping to get you to sleep.” 

  “I got a full eight hours last night,” Adore says smugly.

  Courtney chuckles, “I’m so proud, now if only we could get Bianca to follow your example…” 

  That same empty pain as before seems to stab Adore in the chest, and she tries not to think about it. If she ignores it, it’ll probably go away, then she can go back to having two best friends who just so happen to be very attractive both in personality and looks…

  …She’s screwed. Completely and totally screwed. Adore likes Courtney and Bianca as much more than friends and she will never be able to admit it to either of them without blowing up the group dynamics, which is why she decided long ago not to do anything for convenience’s sake. Apparently, fucking convenience sucks.

  Being with Bianca over the summer, even just for the two days they did have, was basically torture. So that means she must’ve finally died and gone to hell with Courtney being a precious goddamn angel talking about their friendships with each other and everything. 

  “You’re so grumpy for someone who got a good night of sleep,” Courtney says as she starts a new braid in Adore’s messy mop of hair.

  Adore rolls her eyes, though it means nothing since Courtney can’t see it, “I dunno, got a lot on my mind.”

  “We are all about to be very busy,” Courtney agrees sagely.

  “Right, of course, busy…” Adore murmurs.

  Courtney starts humming, soft, gentle, and warm; every touch feels like home and safety, and Adore wants to break down crying but won’t. She can’t. She’s stronger than this, she has to be. Otherwise, she loses everything, and she’d rather be without their love than their friendship.

  Adore falls asleep like that, curled up in her best friend’s lap dreaming of a future where it’s the three of them against the world. At least her dreams can’t hurt anybody. 

[jacensolodjo]

Written for the @startrekwintergiftexchange for @apricot-ghost who asked for 'trans man Kirk'. Also found on AO3 with some notes at the end. (Apparently the receiver moved to @groovyghostie ?)

Words: 1951

-------------------------

There was something calming about the stars that he had never been able to puzzle out. They stood as a reminder outside of Shabbat that he could always find a light somewhere. He had needed that a lot while growing up, trying to figure himself out.

It had happened halfway through Starfleet Academy, almost concurrently with his stunt of 'cheating' at the Kobayashi Maru. He had asked advice from the stars, asked why he didn't feel as proud of his achievement as so many others were. (Though he had many detractors as well.) Something had just... clicked when people started using just his surname so everyone knew instantly who was being spoken about with fewer syllables.. The dropping of a name that he had never fully considered to be 'wrong' had put the last piece of the puzzle in place. The atmosphere and culture of Starfleet as science first before war meant many went by their first name or rank, not surname so it had been the first time he had heard just the four letter name so often around him.

He was not wrong, the name was. It wasn't him. The name he had become an adult with did not fit anymore (maybe it never fully had, he just didn't want to investigate while in the middle of his time in the academy though he had chances before then, too. Timing never seemed right).

And so, shortly before graduating, Cadet Kirk had a wholly different ceremony with his rabbi, a couple of his favorite instructors, family (brother, parents), and a handful of people he actually considered friends rather than hangers on to his celebrity.

Rachel Kirk became James Kirk, or James Tiberius Kirk on his officer commission papers. Tiberius came to him from his father's side, while James came down from both tradition and his maternal side.

Kirk was still binding at the time, having decided that despite surgery being rather simple and no longer requiring long recovery times, he would wait until after he graduated to have it.

So, when he had his bar mitzvah, to 'replace' the bat mitzvah he had had, he was still binding and the tallit helped in hiding the rest of what the binding missed.

"Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Ha'olam, asher kiddashnu b'mitzvotav vitzvanu b'shem mitzvah tzitzit v'mitzvat hityatzrut."

Blessed are you, Hashem, Ruler of the Universe, for giving the commandment for the sake of the mitzvah of ritual fringes and the mitzvah of self-formation.

It had taken a bit of research but he had found a prayer that worked for him as he bound his chest and obscured what the binding couldn't with his tallit.

He looked at the note he had made along with his speech. He let the words sink into him again: "G-d blessed me by making me transsexual for the same reason G-d made wheat but not bread and fruit but not wine, so that humanity might share in the act of creation."

He thoroughly believed in those words now (ancient words from over two centuries ago thus the words used being just as obsolete but no less truthful or accurate). When he had first heard them he hadn't quite understood what it meant. How could we create ourselves? Formation sure, but creation? Now, he knew. Every time he would bind, every time he thought of the surgery planned for after graduation. Every time he has to reintroduce himself he had a chance of creating a new connection not only to his fellow humans but with God.

And so, it was easy to accept many missions, including a five year mission, five years of missing the High Holy Days in a synagogue, replaced by the chapel on the ship. Faster than light travel did not mean people stopped believing in God (or multiple). Adonai was in space just as much as on Earth.

Judaism did not believe in proselytizing. And Kirk never considered it to be as such when talking about God being wherever the ship was.

He still needed hormones, and they still needed doctor approval, so the first order of business as soon as he got the crew list finished was to introduce himself to the Chief Medical Officer, one Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy. Where Kirk was Jewish, McCoy had grown up Southern Baptist before settling on 'theist' when Southern Baptist no longer felt right (learning the amount of bigotry that filled the walls of the church helped increase the feeling) and nor did any other denomination or non-Christian religion he had read up on.

"Good to meet you, Captain. I see on your files you are Jewish. Do you keep kosher?"

Kirk smiled a little at the friendly words and handshake. Then he shook his head in the negative.

"I do not, just Shabbat," Kirk admitted.

"Noted. My roommate at medical school didn't keep Shabbat, just kosher. Now, what else may I help you with, Captain?"

"You don't need to be so formal, Doctor. James is fine. Or Jim. And yes, I realize the irony." A pause to let McCoy nod in understanding. "As for what else I require of you besides counsel I know you are more than qualified to offer, I have a... medication concern..."

Leonard McCoy could not be accused of being a man who doesn't read up on his patients before setting off on a multi-year mission. He knew everything in the medical file of one James T. Kirk but he felt since the Captain was already halfway there to giving the answer to let him finish. 

"I'll need a number of hormone injections on the trip. I'm adept at giving them to myself, I just need a doctor's okay to fill it." 

"Easy like Sunday morning, Cap-- Jim," McCoy said with the half smile he had cultivated over the years. Kirk exhaled like he had been holding in the breath for minutes on end. He liked being self-sufficient but knew some doctors preferred being hands-on. He had a feeling he would get along fine with 'the old country doctor'.

After speaking to McCoy, Kirk wandered around the starbase for a time before he moved on to his next meeting with his new Chief of Engineering. They met at one of the two bars on the base before walking its corridors together.

"Your reputation well precedes you, Mr. Scott," Kirk admitted as the slightly older man (if one considered 11 years 'slightly') enumerated his other postings and all the emergencies he had to fix. 

"Oh, aye? Is the man who beat the Kobayashi Maru a fan of mine?" Montgomery "Scotty" Scott asked, a beaming smile on his face.

"Quite, Mr. Scott. If you hadn't been assigned to the Enterprise I would have asked for you."

Kirk noted the very tips of Scotty's ears had turned a bit pink. Kirk pretended not to notice, however. 

They passed the second bar on the Starbase then adjusted course, Scotty following Kirk's lead to wherever the younger man felt like going. Kirk noted Scotty's loping walk, as if he had just relearned how to walk. It was difficult to change your way of walking when your center of gravity shifted. 

"How about we get more properly drunk at the Hope Hotel?" Kirk offered. Only in privacy would he ask what he wanted to ask. Not only for Scotty's sake but his own. It was not required to come out of the closet and he didn't want to invite someone out of it when surrounded by so many strangers, regardless of what the surrounding opinion might be. Or the answer.

Scotty knew that wasn't its actual name and it made him chuckle before nodding. He had taken up residence in a lower deck of the base.

"Why, Cap'n, you sure know the right thing to offer a man of my character," Scotty answered, never having been one to turn down drink.

Laughing, Kirk clapped the solid Scotsman on the shoulder before leading the way to the hotel. 

It was there, in a rented room, that Kirk allowed himself the luxury of actually getting drunk. It was a rare occurrence, preferring to go about clear headed even off duty. Maybe especially when off duty. 

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Kirk said, scratching idly as his chest some three drinks into things. 

"I-- sorry?" Scotty asked, barely bleary eyed so it wasn't the drink confusing him.

Kirk laughed, mostly at himself. "Sorry that was a terrible way to ask what I want to."

Without bothering to verbally clarify any further, he stripped off the off-duty grey shirt he wore.

The keyhole procedure he had received after graduating meant the scarring was minimal around the areola and two little holes just below the armpits. One would be hard pressed to notice if they weren't even sure what they were meant to see. 

Scotty picked up on it however and he gave another broad grin. Once he finished what was in his glass, he stripped off his own shirt (which he rarely did outside of showering and going to bed, even exercising he tended to stay fully clothed as a personal preference). Scotty had opted for more traditional, light lines that were hard to make out through the natural curve of pectoral muscle. A moderate carpet of hair added further camouflage. Kirk was slightly less fuzzy around the chest, the fuzz picking up around the midriff. Scotty could certainly be considered a bear of a man, in the vernacular of their shared community and in general. Scotty was solid, one might use the term thick set, without being in danger of failing the Starfleet physical. Kirk was sure Scotty could give quite the bear hug if he wanted to. 

Kirk moved his gaze back to the other man's face after another second or two of appreciation that his new Chief of Engineering was part of the self made brotherhood.

It was one of the few things not on any records that weren't medical, there was no need. No one needed to know what a person had been born as. Only what they were now. So these kinds of reveals could happen at their discretion.

"D'ye always ask your new crew to disrobe, Cap'n?" Scotty teased, words muffled for a moment as he returned his shirt to its previous place. Kirk followed suit with his own shirt and laughed. 

"Not normally. I, uh, was just curious."

"What gave me away?" Scotty asked, turning slightly serious now. 

Kirk paused, head tilting slightly. 

"Your stance. How you walk. As if you're still afraid the binder is going to ride up if you move your top half too much."

Scotty digested this, nodding absently. He returned to the present and poured more hotel provided whisky for them both. Kirk gave a nod if thanks.

"Slàinte mhath!" Scotty intoned as he held his glass aloft, the two Gaelic words flowing lovingly from the man's tongue. 

Matching Scotty's earlier beaming grin, he held his own glass aloft and lightly tapped it to Scotty's. 

"L'chaim!" Kirk said just as full of warmth and loving emotion. Scotty's face again broke into another trademark grin. 

Cheers. 

Good health, good luck. (Or, more literally: to life!)

Kirk had a feeling the five year mission was going to fly right by considering the crew he had met so far. And that he would love every last millisecond of it. 

And Kirk would learn later that Spock was matrilineal Jewish. And a number of months into the tour that Hikaru Sulu, who would serve initially as Head of Astrosciences before moving to the Command track on the bridge to become the senior helmsman, was also a self-made man. 

[dannyknowscomics]

Magenta Isle Part 2

(Please Enjoy This Non-Canon What If For Pokémon Scarlet and Violet DLC)

Things are tense you and your two Allie’s are surrounded by the expedition crew, you locked eyes with there leader

Professor Turo or Professor Sada (For the sake of imagination there outfits are more explorer like and not scientist)

While Nemona and the frazzled Arven take down the grunts, your left to battle Turo/Sada

There team is only two Pokémon but there levels will be high 60’s

Salamance & Mabosstiff / Gallade & Mabosstiff

Upon defeating them, they’ll demand the know what children are doing in such a dangerous place, when mentioning Jacq ,The Professor becomes confused as Jacq is only a kid how on earth could he possibly be a Professor now?

They demand to see him and give him a piece of there mind for doing something so stupid as to bring students to such a dangerous place

Arven attempts to speak to the Professor but there dismissive of him and his impertinence, Arven stays behind and tells you he’s just going to find the new herbs and he’ll meet back up with you later.

Nemona fearing that our trip will be cut short as soon as the two Professors meet runs off to find new Pokémon to battle and apologizes for giving you the boring job

You and Turo/Sada arrive back where you arrived…..but soemthing is off the freighter is missing as is Jacq?

The Professor tells you not to worry, things like this happen on the Isle, it has to do with the strange energy around it.

Things disappear and reappear, The Professor brings you to there base camp and offers to let you stay with there crew until such a time they can find Jacq

While searching around it is apparent the expedition teams gear is very old and obsolete, when discussing it with NPC they don’t seem to notice and insist that it is the most up to date model

The Professor than calls you into there tent and shows the mission board

They explain the untold story of Heath and how after publishing his work and becoming a laughing stock he was convinced the answer to what happened to him in Area Zero could be found here

The Professor asks for your help in locating a Pokémon said to be the Guardian Of The Isle

They mark the location on your Rotom Phone (while being amazed that you have a device powered by a Pokémon!?)

You eventually find your way to where the Guardian Of The Isle is said to roam and are then attacked

The guardian is very strong but your team should be able to defeat it…..until something happens, it terastallizing, but with a unique Tera Crown

The battle starts again, this time your Pokémon’s moves don’t effect the Guadian

As your first Pokémon is defeated The Professor shows up and uses Salamance/Gallade to save you

They then throw a Master Ball at the Guardian, but it glows with green energy before disappearing.

The Professor is frustrated and explains that [•••••] must have woken up again

Your obviously confused and the Professor explains that The Guardian isn’t a real Pokémon like all paradox Pokémon it was created via human imagination brought to life by

[•••••]

The Professor says the Pokémon brings dreams to life but the danger is that the longer someone remains in its field that more than lose touch with reality and begin to go crazy.

They explain that when [•••••] awakens whatever it created seems to vanish, but also it sometimes takes things that are real too

The Professor assures your they’ll help you find Jacq

When you return to there tent they collapse in there bed

They laugh about how this has been the longest year of there life, they explain to you a year ago they left there Wife/Husband with there son to explore The Isle.

As they drift to sleep you realize this expedition team has been here for 15 years…….

Will You Be Able to Save The Expedition Team?

Will You Find Jacq!?

Will Arven Finally Make The Perfect Sandwich!?

And What on Earth is The Mysterious Egg!?

Find out When I Drop Part 3

[lavalamp-juice]

MUTANT MAYHEM SPOILERS -

Movie Review/Rambiling alot

This is ur last warning >:o

AHHHH I LOVED IT

Visuals- BRO THE ANIMATIONNNNN UGGGG all the textures and little squiggles makes my brain go brrr. Was it just me or did the horses have googly eyes? Heh cute 🐎 UGH THE BABIES. THE BABIES. ALMOST FORGOT TO MENTION THEM. Ever since having an influx of babies in my family, those parent baby scenes have gotten to my heart strings. Those scenes used to never get to me but man they really do now I cried. It's really interesting how everything EVERYTHING in this movie is not symmetrical. Opposite Wes Anderson, I like to call it. It's eye candy. It gives me the same feeling as watching old cartoons that used cells. Like each frame is homemade. it helps bring life to the mundane.

I could see if people think it's a little too different for them to like, BUT NOT ME 10/10

The Turtles - Very teen it's cool. It is impressive to have teen characters that don't make me cringe and sink into my chair. So that's suchhh a plus! While most of there slang will be obsolete in a couple years that's fine. Actually making them act their age is a great decision.

Leo got that unintentional rizz. No bit actually has a show ever done a Leo April ship? It's interesting it was cute. I don't see much chemistry but tbh I think that was intentional / a good thing. I would have disliked if there was a bigger Leo April sub plot. I like how he was pretty reasonable throughout the whole movie. Not a total party killer, but also not lazy as a leader. It will be so interesting to see how they all grow 🥺

Raph- He's pretty cool, the brute as always not getting everyone one in trouble :D

Donnie- I know Mr. Rogan wanted too make them realisc teens, sadly this also took away Donnies super intelligence. It's very understandable but I wish he was a lil bit more of a nerd, saying something smart here and there. Probably my bias tho since I really like super intelligent characters :P none of Donnie's doohickeys in this one. It might be cool to see him throughout the series and other movies slowly begin to code and make stuff. At least his winning personality shines in this movie!

Mikey- Just Mikey being mikey. Its so nice seeing him happy and at the end go to High school and live among humans 🥺 it's the ending I kinda wanted for Bay verse Mikey, at least we can see it here!

The other mutants- Also very cool but there's a bit too many to really get everyone's say, which is what I was worried about when I saw the cast list. Other that SuperFly and Mono Gecko it felt like many didn't get a time to shine. (Especially Bebop & RockSteady)

Story/Plot- Honestly with all the all the TMNT content I have imbedded into my brain I thought I wouldn't ever see the "status quote" change SO dramatically. It was compelling to see that Splinter (and super fly) TRIED to go in the human world. And were automatically shunned and basically beat up emotionally/physically. The way super fly explained how he unalived that guy who was harassing them was scary. Very vivid and almost reminded me of Batman? Like the way SuperFly explained that he beat the guy up to a the point were the guy was no longer a threat (which is what Batman does) but Superfly, unlike Batman kept beating him up until... yeahh. It was sad that Baxter Stockmen apparently got killed? If I understood that right. It was very sad to hear especially cause again, baby stories are gut punching me. Baby SuperFly was cute I need a plush of him🥺 I'll raise him good not evil.

I had no idea the turtles and the mutants (other then SuperFly) were gonna team up so fast. It was a bit of a surprise but good.

The ending of all them moving in together tho. Also if they have so much space why don't the boys have separate rooms? Anyway, Team Found Family wins again <3

I really enjoyed Splinter noticing his mistake and like fixing so quick. It's a bit better than Rise Splinter where us arc takes awhile more.

THE TURTLES GOING TO SCHOOL?!?¿¡?!? ¿QUE? DOING WHAT NO TURTLE HAS DONE BEFORE. GOOD FOR THEM <3

The "I'm gonna turn the whole world into mutants" is kinda over done :/ but still good stakes!

Humor- Milk joke coming back full circle. Donnie your not supposed to be driving >:[ but while. Your at it go there. Heh it was funny and loved it.

Cons- Throw up joke. Ehhh just went on a bit too Long

Humans suddenly accepting is a bit too optimistic but I'll allow it.

Overall- Animation makes it worth watching and of course the story, characters and laughs. 9/10 I'm so excited to see it again!!!

[kobblefort]

Rushsly: Final Preparations

Even if the "endgame" spoilers don't start in this episode, they are going to be talked about at length from this point on.

This is your last warning: if you want to find out what's at the very bottom of the world for yourself, do not read beyond this point until you have.

There are other valid reasons not to read this Let's Play, such as "thinking the author is a narcissistic maniac who spends more time trying to do bootleg therapy on themself than the actual game," or "being a bit weirded out by the whole kobold thing," or "just not wanting to read a novel-length stream-of-consciousness psychodramatic diatribe that is sometimes vaguely about a digital ant-farm." But I care far more about preserving the wonders of this game for the people who enjoy it than I ever will about appealing to the particularities of anyone who is already inclined to dislike me or my work, so one more time, endgame spoilers are just one click away here. If you want to see the bottom yourself, you should dig to the bottom yourself. If you like playing the game, I think it is something worth doing at least once. This will be my first time playing this content, but not my first time seeing it, and I kind of wish it was. Spoilers under the cut.

I guess I should apologize for how I ended the last episode. I had been feeling very weird and worked myself up acting like nothing had ever gone right for me. I'm feeling better now. I played a bit of the new Zelda game like everyone else - well actually I played it a bit before it released too, because I think Nintendo is evil and that pirating their games, even leaked ones, is ontologically good - that I refuse to financially support them by buying their products firsthand, even if I must get kind of a shitty 15-24fps version of the experience. I make no argument that their games are not good and fun and well-designed but I think many of their corporate practices are basically inexcusable, litigating a man into lifelong indentured servitude is some shit a pastor would make up a story about the devil doing, having a crack team of prosecutors called "Nintendo Ninjas" isn't cute or funny, it is inexcusably vile bullshit that speaks volumes about what kind of world we've built ourselves to live in, where our modern myths and fables are Intellectual Properties and Trademarks. I have been making lots of contraptions, none that particularly measure up to what you might have seen on the internet - some of them embarrassingly being made obsolete by the game's own built-in schematics just minutes after I finished devising them. I have also not been barbecuing the koroks or shooting them with lasers or blasting them off on rockets or anything like that. They are cute and funny little dudes and I have no particular interest in seeing them suffer. I read an article a while ago about how phenomena like the widespread Korok crucifixions are caused by the same sort of psychological response as how you kind of just want to bite things that are obscenely cute, because our human brains don't really know how to deal with the feeling of "this thing is too cute." At least, I imagine they have to be similar responses going on there.

Kerrik Perplexnightmares appears in the first cavern layer - clearly named by the ratfolk. It almost brings a smile to my face to think of it mauling the rat-bastards that so frequently besiege us, but just as soon it brings a frown to think about how its "deadly dust" might be able to slip through our fortifications. Fiva is also still fucking around on the second cavern layer, apparently still seriously wounded from its battle with the ant people; speaking of which, checking the "Creatures>Others" tab displays none of them, but none of them appear under "Dead/Missing" either. Whether they went back into hiding for another ambush, fled the caverns beneath Rushsly entirely, or were so thoroughly dismembered that whatever remains of them would not be recognizable as ever belonging to a sentient being is currently unknown, though the second option seems most likely and the third seems least likely. They did appear from the western-most edge of the second cavern, they could have just as easily left that way.

Its ability to stand and ability to grasp are apparently "somewhat impaired", and funnily enough, checking the "Treatment" tab lets us know that it needs diagnosis and a crutch. The only way the kobbles are giving the poor lobster bastard a crutch is by mauling it with one. Rushsly has truly become a violent fort, and I'll need to start designating a third military squadron as soon as this last window into the final cavern layer is completed. Which, in the tireless toil of kobble industry, it is.

We can see most all of it besides the northeastern corner, and still not a fucking trace of magma. If it does exist, it will be at the very bottom of the world.

Our newest crop of migrants brought with them quite a lot of kobbles who were already adequate in some form of fighting or another, if not competent or even accomplished. With 211 steel bars in reserve, and a whopping 1475 iron bars and 61 bricks of coke (not the kind that makes you scheme to start a massive Wal-Mart return-scam scheme that spans four states, lasts for six years and results in a net profit of over 868,000 dollars - the cool kind) in case we run through that, outfitting them is only a question of time, not resources. And yes, Kody wanted to call them "The Frigid Knots." Go ahead, make your furry porn jokes. But for what it's worth? I'm anti-knot. I'm anti basically any "animal style genitalia" besides hyena girls with huge dicks or like, shark furries with double dicks, but they should still be recognizably human. I guess maybe a little frond here or a little flaring there is fine but I don't know, don't get carried away man. Like you know when you see one of those artists who just draws dicks as little red or pink triangles? I can't stand that. And hell while we're at it, no feral shit for me either. I'm in this furry shit for definitively humanoid bitches with some animal aesthetics I'm not trying to jack off to an actual dog dick, that's gross to me. I'm not a cop but I'm allowed to be grossed out. Us old bastards call that "squicked." I'm allowed to be squicked. You can go back over my earlier posts for evidence of my arguably "weirder" fetishes if you want but I'm not going to give a shit because weird is subjective and I think you can obviously tell just from this paragraph alone that I'm kind of unconcerned with joining any sort of larger consensus on "normality." I've got my own "normality" going on and it works for me. I am incredibly normal: I am, after all, the average of all my traits.

The mine shaft that will lead us to glorious adamantite starts right here, just outside The Curled Pepper, but it won't start going too deep without some serious fortifications and a contingency plan in case we dig right into the final layer instead of hitting an adamantite vein. I have a plan for safely digging out the adamantite - as safely as one can dig out adamantite anyway - but before that step can begin, I want steel hatch covers and a backup set of steel doors in place. Though I'm completely prepared for Rushsly to fall on an emotional level, I would like that to simply not happen - being able to retire the fort once I feel I've had as much fun with it as I'm going to have would be a blessing. And what do we have to lose, should I carelessly fuck up?

Well, for starters, I haven't even begun on Dralas' Beast Slayer quarters lol fuck whoops!! Not that he's discontent with his four-tile chamber in the awkward set of bedrooms that I have been going out of my way to show because I hate them. And what sort of things go on in Dralas' life? Well, of his many passing acquaintances, being not even particularly close to other members of his squadron, he has made a friend:

Gatr Leagueknowing - Maybe he should know a better fucking game, LOL!!! Why are you playing an RTS where you only get to control one guy!?! Sorry - the Holy Fish of the Goldenrod Creed, who leads ceremonies in the Pale Chapel, actually has many friends, perhaps as a result of his liturgical duties, but...

He himself only considers Dralas a "passing acquaintance." Ouch

But there's not too much time to ponder the minutiae of kobbles' social lives - a third Forgotten Beast appears, this one joining Fiva on the second cavern layer. Wow, an eyeless lizard and an eyeless lobster. They're so similar I'm a bit worried they're going to fuck instead of fight.

But no lol obviously they fight. They fight hard, they fight fast, and then it's over. One must wonder how it would have turned out if Fiva managed to recover from its scuffle with the ant people, but that's not what happened. Ancoji Necroshafts the Fated (holy shit) escapes with a single bruise on its rear right foot. Fiva is the one I made that badass little intro graphic for, isn't it? Sorry to see you go out like that, Fiva, though I wonder if this might be a little more honorable than getting sniped through some fortifications by a kobble who doesn't even care about doing the deed. The 462-year-old lizard scratches right through the lobster's brain and it's all over.

All the way up top-side I notice these rabbit merchants and their guard have just been... stuck chilling in the trade depot for at least a month after their supposed departure. I pull up and then pull down the drawbridge to try and reset their pathfinding, I run dfhack fix/stuck-merchants a couple times, no dice. Also right after doing that I find out you're not actually supposed to run fix/stuck-merchants when you have merchants on the map, but ahh whoops I dunno, live and learn I guess. I should really read command descriptions before I make assumptions based on their name but to be fair like when merchants are stuck on your screen it really feels like that's what the command "fix/stuck-merchants" is for, how would I even actually know if merchants are stuck off my map? Well I really don't know what to do about that. It would be funny to just fucking kill them but they're cute little bunny people and I need to be minimizing the amount of enemies I have at any given time if I want to survive the dig for adamantite.

We commission Agcu Riu: "the Fall of Beaks" for Dralas' bedroom. It doesn't look like we'll be able to find aluminum any time soon, but one with iron walls, billon floors and a gold "welcome mat" seems more than well-appointed enough.

Our Hammer Lord On decides to name her shield "The Confusing Famine." I kind of wish she'd grown attached to a steel one instead, but I suppose the tools you're comfortable with are always better than the more expensive, flashier ones. Right? Well I don't know because steel is literally stronger than iron, but oh well. This is the second object a soldier has named, after Ace Steel's steel battleaxe "Styletongues." Looks like things are going well for them, and they'll soon have company in their barracks: even though no training orders have actually been given yet, some members of The Frigid Knots have already grown antsy enough to pick out their weapons and armor.

Quite a few masterworks have been created in the new batch of weapons, and checking who made them makes me realize that Orml really ought to be appointed to the military: she's a legendary fighter, legendary observer, and master spearbold after all. The Frigid Knots will do well to have a master among them to learn from; it should hopefully bring the less skilled of the group up to speed a bit faster.

Ancoji has been sitting perfectly still this whole time after finishing off Fiva. Up on the first cavern layer, Kerrik just slowly swims around. Menacingly... as menacingly as a giant frog can get.

Training finally begins for TFK.

The final shaft is almost ready. A tight security protocol will be enforced whenever any adamantite mining operations are going on. The outer steel doors, inner steel doors, hatch covers on Z-90 and hatch covers on Z-91 will all be sealed for the entire length of time that a mining team is in the shaft. This is to buy a construction team enough time to wall off the shaft entirely if it becomes necessary. As I've already stated, if we break through at the wrong spot, we have a matter of single frames to react accordingly, and two or three miners' lives are, unfortunately, a fair trade to keep the other 100+ kobbles safe from the possibility sudden violent and painful death. In the event that we are not able to seal off the bottom layer for any reason, we will have no choice but to draw up the above-ground and below-ground bridges to cut off access between Rushsly and the greater world entirely. What we find down there could literally doom the entire Dimensions of Portent if we do not immediately take the proper cautions to contain it. Maybe I'm being overdramatic. Maybe I'll wish I was even more dramatic later. All I can know for sure is the general gist of what lies at the bottom of the earth, and how dangerous it can be. -114 is the deepest depth of the pools in the third and final cavern layer. From -115 to -129, anything could happen. Vast and impossible riches guarded by incredible beasts. An ocean of magma to spew forth, a relatively painless and uneventful adamantite-and-diamonds mining experience.

In interest of not taking for-fucking-ever and having the group awkwardly split up, miners will be moved to these admittedly quite shit barracks on -90, and the burrow system will be used to keep them from fucking off all the way up to near the surface until such a time as the final layers are exhausted. The marksbold squad are training hard just below The Curled Pepper, ready as they'll ever be for whatever comes next.

Through me you enter into the city of woes; through me you enter into eternal pain, through me you enter the population of loss. Abandon all hope, you who enter here. "Inferno" is actually very funny for a lot of different reasons, but that quote still goes hard as fuck, you can't not like it. I know this has been kind of a shorter episode, maybe you're glad about that, but this seems like a good place to cut it. I want to have as much room as possible to let whatever might transpire next breathe.

[ogradyfilm]

Nothing, Forever: The Automatization of “Content”

[The following essay exaggerates my opinions for comedic effect; please don’t take it too seriously.]

Back in high school, I wrote a short story about a dystopian future in which every film was produced by a sophisticated artificial intelligence; provided with a prompt consisting only of a brief synopsis, a genre, and an intended demographic, the program would utilize advanced CGI to generate the sort of cookie cutter, paint-by-numbers media that greedy, unimaginative corporate executives adore: popular, profitable, and utterly predictable. The plot wasn’t particularly well developed, but the premise still intrigued sixteen-year-old me; what, after all, could be more terrible than the demise of art?

Last week, my brother texted me a link to a Twitch stream entitled Nothing, Forever. At first glance, it appeared to be a crudely animated parody of Seinfeld, distilling the show’s trademark inane, mundane conversations into absurd, incoherent non sequiturs. A bit of research, however, revealed the horrifying truth: Nothing, Forever is the product of an A.I. futilely laboring to understand and mimic the intricacies of humor (reminiscent of how such "esteemed auteurs” of trash cinema as Tommy Wiseau, James Nguyen, and Neil Breen struggle to comprehend and replicate the idiosyncrasies of human behavior*)—an automated sitcom broadcast in real time for (theoretically) eternity**.

My nightmare has invaded reality.

There are, of course, limitations to what the technology can currently accomplish. Bugs and glitches abound: characters frequently respond to their own questions, and on at least one occasion, the ersatz “Jerry” model failed to materialize during a comedy club scene, resulting in an awkwardly prolonged shot of an empty stage. Nevertheless, this primitive attempt at mechanized storytelling clearly demonstrates that the concept I created in Mrs. Doxey’s classroom—which was meant to be purely figurative, a satirical metaphor for the gradual erosion of self-expression as entertainment becomes increasingly commodified—is now unnervingly plausible.

*Despite this superficial similarity, Nothing, Forever is sorely lacking in the personality, ambition, and genuine passion evident in The Room, Birdemic: Shock and Terror, and Fateful Findings—incompetently crafted masterpieces that will endure in pop culture for decades to come, while watchmeforever’s disposable “content”—designed by an algorithm to be thoughtlessly consumed and discarded ad infinitum—will ultimately fade into obscurity as new “innovations” render it obsolete.

**Ironically, the channel hosting Nothing, Forever has been temporarily banned (as of February 6, 2023) after an alleged scripting error caused the program to inadvertently generate transphobic comments—which coincidentally parallels one of the major twists in my dystopian sci-fi narrative. Apparently, I am cursed with the gift of prophecy.

[luckyphilosopherchocolate]

I have so many thoughts for this

Love the concept, would love to get rid of the gender, I don't want it and it's not needed.

Now to the blood types on the id, while the idea is great I am sure that there would be people who would say something along the lines of : "I don't want everyone to know my blood type, that is privat information and the cashier I have to show my id to, to get beer doesn't need to know that. Bla bla bla....Data safety.....bla bla"

So I propose something that could work (at least where I live).

Let's take the gender off the id and let's put the blood type on the health insurance card, which is only ever shown to your health insurance, your doctor or in case of emergencies medical services.

It's with my id, and thus when they check for my id they also find my health insurance card, which then would have my blood type on it.

That would solve both problems.

We could also replace the gender with a H for Human because we're all the same species and I think some people need a reminder sometimes that they're just the same.

Or to make a dystopian story out of it replace the gender with a number for no apparent reason. The numbers are random and have no meaning but I'm sure society would somehow come up with a class system based on these numbers.

I think it would be fun if these numbers just appeared one day, just to see how fast things would change because of them.

And in the end the numbers could disappear again making the class system that society has started based on those numbers obsolete.

this started as a joke but then i started actually thinking about it and now im really annoyed that IDs have this one letter that doesnt mean anything for cis people and is a huge pain in the ass for trans people when we could instead have literally lifesaving information so emergency medical services could just check ur wallet to see which blood to give you so you dont die or whatever But No