#i need to finish this damn game

[flick-is-online]

I gave you all I had

[ra-vio]

this blog is 11 years old now 🎉

I drew the siblings ever to celebrate as usual

[kudakii]

why must they be made to face the horrors

[overallbrainrot]

lis sketches idk man

[chimerahyperfix]

You’re looking for something— no, someone, too, aren’t you?

(I can’t comprehend how you understand what’s going on, with your lifeless shell. Craft as you are.)

[pirate-banana]

Shoutout to The One They Call the Witch. Gotta be one of the soundtrack songs of all time

[corpocyborg]

(⊙ˍ⊙)

[tothesolarium]

Hey, so

If I draw fan art for a horror romance game

Y’all be chill

[telesodalite]

Woe, unfinished, mildly edited, fulfire fic tid-bits be upon you

-

Like a magnet, his optics kept drifting back to Misfire's face. His stupid, strangely charming face.

For a short while, after Clemency, it had been that face that haunted some of his nightmares. His recalls blurring the lines between the strange reality of Misfire's hands reaching into him to lock his fuel pump back into the very spot he'd pulled it from, and the fear that just as easily he could pull it out again. They had been bloody dreams. Dreams that had him startling awake, gripping his chest in the vain attempt to close what wasn't open, before spending the rest of the day avoiding Misfire's optics.

But now things were different. Not Misfire's face. No, that hadn't changed much. But Fulcrum's dreams had definitely changed. To say the least of what all rolled around in his processor as he slept nowadays.

Some of those newer dreams had crept to the forefront of his mind as he sat there on the couch, staring as the lights of the screen reflected dully across Misfire's plating in hazy blues and greys.

The lighting made his colors seem muddy and faded, but Fulcrum didn't really care, nor did he care to think what it made himself look like. He was too busy bringing an empty engex can to his lips while he watched the crinkle of Misfire's nose as he barked a laugh at something Fulcrum didn't catch onscreen.

He'd started noticing it months ago, all the ways the silvery mesh of Misfire's face would scrunch up with his emotions. Those little crinkles along his optics and nose when he laughed or glared. The creases indented along his cheeks when he grinned. Fulcrum found himself quietly logging away these little details. Idle notes and observations that had suddenly started piling up in the corners of his processer.

He… He'd never really done that before? He'd never really noticed those sorts of things in other mechs.

The faces and expressions of his past colleagues never seemed terribly important. All the details of every smile and frown were never worth filing away, outside of few notable moments where those expressions reflected his work performance. But besides the smile that meant promotion, and the frown that meant he'd screwed up, nothing else was noticeable. Nothing was worth remembering.

But now the memory of every genuine laugh that bubbled out of Misfire sat comfortably besides memories of warm joyful optics that Fulcrum found himself collecting every time Crankcase cracked a rare half-smile for him, or when Krok placed a reassuring hand against his back, or the times Spinister spontaneously pointed out something odd but ultimately nice about his stupid frame.

He didn't really know why he was doing it, memorizing all these mundane little things, just to have them flit through his processer randomly. Maybe it was because those expressions, those details, felt… comforting? Comforting in such a strange and unfamiliar way. But, a good way. A good sort of strange, much like the mechs themselves.

-

-

He had stared for a long moment, the credits and their rolling tune playing somewhere in the background as Fulcrum stared back. But Misfire was never one for personable silence, even as the sound of some likely long dead Iaconian orchestra filled the room.

"What is it?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping him as he brought a hand to his face, "Don't tell me I've poured it all over myself again."

It had taken Fulcrum longer than usual to unstick his glossa from the roof of his mouth as he watched Misfire run a thumb over his lips, but eventually he had coughed out a small, choked, "No."

That had earned him an odd look at first, but with their fields loose and open, Fulcrum could almost feel the exact moment something clicked in Misfire's mind, as the idle comfortable static he projected in pulsing waves evened out into something openly curious and almost subdued.

It wasn't often Fulcrum felt him that clearly.

Misfire tended to keep his field fairly close, though, maybe not as close as the others did, what with how Crankcase kept an iron grip on his, and how Krok's always held an air of strained control, even when it slipped from him. But still, Misfire's was always hard to read, no matter the reach or depth of his field.

Even then and there, with it loose and unfiltered and buzzing with the engex running through his system, there was an ever present undertone of something indescribably jumbled about him, like too many feelings at once, each too vast and hurried for Fulcrum to really feel or understand.

It always seemed to stir the passive anxiety Fulcrum must've been forged with when Misfire's field brushed against his own. As facing the indescribable vague mess of Misfire felt like trying to untangle a pile of live-wires he couldn't even see.

It was almost frustrating in a sense, the need to try and sort and understand what wasn't even his to begin with. But at the same time it was almost exciting as well. It was like a game, like a puzzle he had yet to solve.

-

-

Finally letting his own can go tumbling to the floor to join Misfire's, Fulcrum had brought a hand to cover his face as he drew his legs up and leaned back against the arm of the couch, trying to suppress the fit as the sly look slipped from Misfire's face at the sounds.

While Fulcrum had laughed, and… snorted, embarrassingly, he had felt Misfire's field change again, brushing something fizzy and almost warm against his plating as Misfire's features softened.

"I'm looking at you," Fulcrum had said then between gulps of air, letting his hand fall from his face as he reached out to poke at Misfire's chest, "Dumbaft."

His finger had lingered over the thick plating there for maybe a little longer than necessary, drawing Misfire's attention as it slid down a little before pulling away.

Looking back up again with his helm angled slightly, Misfire had followed the sight of his hand leaving his plating to where Fulcrum let it fall between them.

"Wow…" Misfire had chuckled a little dryly, "I was gonna make it real easy for you. I was going to say something like, ''Do you like what you see?'' or-… or something like that. But now you've ruined it. Good job."

Meeting Fulcrum's optics again as he pulled his own hand back from Fulcrum's shoulder, he brought it to rest between them as well.

"And you're laughing at me," He said next, faking a small pout as his hand drifted closer to Fulcrum's, "Which totally ruins the whole vibe I was going for really. I mean, it's sort of hard to be all nice and suave-like when you're being laughed at. Total vibe killer. Bit of an ego killer too if I'm being honest. So thanks for that loser, thanks for saying I have a funny face."

With Misfire's fingers brushing distractingly past his own, Fulcrum didn't think before the words stumbled out of him.

"I like your face."

It came out almost matter of fact sounding, Fulcrum's laughter having died down while Misfire complained about it. But at the same time the words felt so simple, they came out so easily, and in a weird way they felt nice to say. But Misfire's optics had widened in surprise, his frame frozen and his field suddenly struck quiet, and despite the engex numbing his usual nerves, Fulcrum felt a sudden pang of anxiety because of it.

The silence in Misfire's field was terribly alien. It felt wrong, and something in Fulcrum spiraled to think he had caused it. But slowly, almost as if it were creeping forward, an odd almost scrutinizing uncertainty fanned outward in a careful wave. Misfire moved with it, leaning closer as he searched Fulcrum's expression for something.

"Oh yeah?" He'd said lowly then, and that sly look returned. But that vague uncertainty didn't fade with it, if anything, Fulcrum felt it strengthen. Caught between what he saw, in Misfire's easy smile and dimmed optics, and what he felt, in the growing hollow distance within their fields, Fulcrum found himself frowning and pulling back.

-

-

Growing frustrated with himself, and wanting that feeling back, he had pushed forward, shifting onto his knees as he reached for Misfire's face before the other could pull away from him entirely.

"I like your face." He said firmly, maybe too firmly. His expression still drawn into a frown as he pressed his fingers into Misfire's helm, brushing his thumbs across the silver mesh he'd been staring so intently at before. "I like your optics, and your nose. I- I like the way you smile. When you really smile, and when you laugh. I do. I'm not lying."

And oh there it was again, that little curl of warmth in Misfire's field. Almost a tangible thing, like a brush of ventilation, but Misfire wasn't venting. His mouth hung open ever so slightly, but no breath left him as he stared at Fulcrum with widening optics.

Spurred on by that tiny bloom of warmth, Fulcrum chased after it with slightly slurred words and clumsy hands as he tried to fix whatever he'd done wrong, hoping with each word that Misfire might soften and smile again.

"I like your expressions, and- and I like your voice," He said, glancing down at Misfire's parted lips, and laughing softly, nervously, as he continued, "Even when you say something so stupid. I like- I like the way it sounds. I like your accent, I like the way it makes your words sound. I- I like your- your mouth?"

Once more that weird but nice feeling settled in Fulcrum's chest. Those simple words felt good to say. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, like an admission he'd been waiting to say. About what and why? He wasn't really sure. But the warmth grew, and Misfire took a sharp vent inwards, and that felt right, so Fulcrum kept on.

"I like your helm," He said with a smile, reaching up to brush his fingers over the jutting finials there, before dropping his hands to settle lightly over Misfire's chest. "I like your frame, the colors of it. I like your-"

Before he could finish, Misfire was surging forward, knocking their helms together and nearly bruising the mesh of their noses as he tried for, and just barely missed, Fulcrum's lips.

-

👁👁👍

[secretsimpleness]

Is Kesten a kinda stick-in-the-mud who probably works way too much? Yeah. Did I like him from the very first moment he was introduced? Yeah...

The (newly!) Baroness, Kesten Garess / Pathfinder Kingmaker (c) Owlcat Games

[loverboybrightsideghost]

listening to rqg 159 and alex describes how zolf would recognize wilde’s “eeerrghhhhh it has to do with touchy-feely emotions” face. yeh

[redishsunflowers]

"who was he? sejanus?"

yeah i wish you were sejanus buster boy

[bootlegdvdmenu]

why is building kerfur omega a sisyphean task.

[nebulousfishgills]

Please do share the notes with us 👀

Okay, let me transcribe *exactly* word for word what I wrote down in my journal for you all (Again, bear in mind that my bestie and I have NOT finished the game yet, so this isn't the full list, I will be adding more):

(The whole dialogue exchange between Henry and Brenner when Henry's getting his tattoo touched up and calls Brenner a parasite because *chef's kiss*)

Orange for Lunch??

Freedom in mind void to ability suppression

Windows

Russian Spies?

Losing Control of the hivemind?

Eleven makes him emotional?

Control over the hivemind is fickle?

"Creepy Henry" by the other kids

Mind Flayer bullies him

Using the hivemind to hunt for Eleven

"Obsession is how you love"

Eating dinner away from the rest of the family as a child

Comic books

Eggs?

Flies around like Spider-Man with the vines

Corpses = Trophies

Spiders = Muse

Mind Flayer communicates to Henry with Brenner's voice

"Most human thing about him" is feeling time

"Tied down like your mother" ??

Physically inside brains?

Obsession with the past

Obsession the only way he can connect

Influence only goes as far as the corruption

Ants? Spiders eat ants?

Chapter 2 says November 1983

Mind Flayer wants to devour everything

Will the key

Chapter 3 The Possession of Will Byers

Vecna in communication with Will

Manipulates Will's memories?

"I understand you more than anybody else"

Can possess technology?

Sows seeds of doubt

"You'll finally matter to someone, Will"

Fascinated by environment (nerd)

Mind Flayer absorbs Henry's memories

Studies Henry

Brenner said he'd take the chip out

Stole some of the Flayer's power?

Mind Flayer is a DICK

Keeps escaping Mind Flayer's influence

Rewarded for hurting things

Saw Eleven like a sister - "Alice"

Eleven was the "replacement?"

Mind Flayer deadass pulls out a "rate your emotions" chart

Henry corrupts the Upside Down

We stopped in the middle of the memory nexus loop since the headset was dying and it was getting late, but that's what I've written down so far. I'll update this once we finish the game and then maybe come up with a more comprehensive analysis post.

[scopophobia-polaris]

Oh and the best part about the whole au hyrule is about 3,000 years old is that it only dates back to the hypothetical creation date made 50 years before the first war for the triforce (the pre sksw one) so the planet is probably older then people are thinking and yet.....

Like truly no one, not even the Deku Tree knows the day or hour the world was created, what does it feel like just being born? No one is going to know how old the planet is it just popped up one day and a very short time later everyone got malice in their hearts and tried to grab the triangles all because Hylia let it slip that it's a fragment of the trio and is borderline all powerful.