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weeewooobitsfallout · 20 hours ago

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Companion rambles: could they operate a vehicle + other random assortment of headcannons

Curie:

Knows every single part of a car. Knows every driving safety rule. Do not let her near a vehicle. Her driving style is mad-max levels of fear. She will giggle and comment about how much fun she’s having, and how she wishes she did this sooner. Danger level: 9/10. You won’t die but you’ll never look at a corvega the same.

Cait:

In trying to hotwire it, will either blow it up or will turn it on for just enough time that the alarm goes off. If she did find a functioning one, it would probably end up in a ditch. Danger level: 7/10

Deacon:

He can drive, but in the same way that a elderly person would: you don’t know if he should be behind the wheel, but goddamn it if he’s not going to Tokyo drift into the last parking spot in front of the super-duper mart. Danger level: 5/10

Danse:

Why concern himself with pre-war ruins that aren’t even technologically interesting? He *technically* can fly vertibirds, but also…heights get to him sometimes. If he did have a car, he would dive super safe and basically act like a midwestern dad. Do NOT try and merge without signaling in front of him. Danger level: 2/10

Mac:

Really good at taking cars apart. Only knows about driving from comics. TBH I think he would be the type to only learn how to ride a bike at 10+ years old. He can’t even start the car. Danger level: 0/10

Hancock:

Would try to drive but would get either lost or just confused after about a half hour. Would probably try to add a bunch of stuff on top, like a missile launcher or a turret. It would be so decked out that it wouldn’t even be functional anymore. Would take joy in doing demolition derbies with Mac. Danger level: 3/10

Piper:

She knows how a car works, but like, only from reading 4 pages of a really old manual when she was board. She claims to defunct know how they work, but has no idea what to do when she lifts the hood. Either causes an explosion or ends up breaking at least one part. Never gets it moving. 6/10

Gage:

He can probably figure it out after about a day or two of trying to compare it to a coaster. When he does start it, I think he would actually hate driving. He’s the sole one in control, with his foot on the gas the whole time, and there is no way in hell he is ready for that. Would probably make up some excuse about how raiders don’t need to use cars to make their points. 2/10

Preston:

The safest driver in the world at first, but then he starts going after bigger things. Trucks would help with transporting supplies to settlements, he argues. If we had a garrison of tanks, imagine how many people we could protect, etc. He’s not wrong, and not bad at driving, but he really needs to stop adopting every bubble-top he comes across. 3/10

Nick:

Can drive. Will drive. Then will have to confront the reality of his muscle memory being from a person he never really was. He’ll still take a spin now and then, especially if going long distances, but he prefers to walk. It’s more….him. 1/10

Longfellow:

Cars, no. Boats? Hell yeah. He’s taught just about every sailor far harbor has. But try to get him to drive on land and he will straight out refuse. It’s not who he is. 0/10

Strong:

No. Car for throwing. Inside small, only for weak human. No need metal shell to go fast. 0/10

Dogmeat:

Sticks his head out the window. Can honk the horn. 0/10

Codsworth:

Listen, somewhere in his programming is knowing how to drive a car. Also how to assemble one from 4 cans and a high powered magnet. Can drive it either completely normal and safe or in a way that would make vin diesel scared. 7/10

X6:

Danger level: 10/10. He would succeed in the way Hancock could not. He turns it into a weapon. Stuff of nightmares. Avoid at all costs.

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shiba-sketch · 2 days ago

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Under the Mask (Capitano)

This post contains spoilers for the most recent archon quest, Natlan, and Capitano.

FIRST OFF, making the disclaimer I'm a fan of "faceless" Capitano, as hiding his face kind of ups the "horrific" factor. That said, I'm an artist and I want to draw the beloved as accurately as possible...and I can't do that if I can't see his face!

So, I decided to do some digging to try and figure it out what it looks like. We do have SOME visual clues and descriptions to give us an idea in the game, so this is what I based it off of.

First, looking at Capitano himself, we can clearly see that his facial features are still intact (his nose/lips by the silhouette), which means his nose and lips haven't decayed in the way a corpse's would.

(Let's set aside how silly his mask is, the power of anime makes him able to see+obscures his entire face from view)

So...how disfigured is he, to the point it makes Traveler make a face like this?

Well...he's not a hillichurl. He seems to be a pure-blooded Khaenri'ahn, which would make his decay similar to Dainslief and Pierro.

However, there's really nothing that intimidating about this.

But, Capitano's decay is far more advanced than Dainslief's. We know purebloods don't become Hillichurls, but I thought perhaps the curse was similar. Hillichurls are described as having skin covered in ulcers...which immediately made me think of Deadpool of all things.

I looked up images of Deadpool (from the comics, not the live action), and in some renditions of his face, his nose and lips are still intact (albeit still scarred).

I originally was going to just put lines on top of the mottled skin kind of just like markings on Dain's arm, but then I got the idea to make them split apart, sort of like cracks. Like the ulcers in his skin are slowly breaking apart, letting abyssal energy out of his body, since his flesh literally cannot contain his immortal soul. Maybe I'll work on it more visually, because the cracks and open sores could reveal a sparkly, glowy skeleton or something cool underneath...

I also thought maybe the cracks look like Ronova?

Anyway take my offering, I tried.

Stay strong comrades, our King will come home!!

#capitano #genshin impact #genshin lore #il capitano #fatui harbingers #genshin impact fanart

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tekesima · 2 days ago

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this is the 5th and unfortunately last page of this mini comic. This was intended to be a quick project but ended up stretching to almost if not a year of work due to my commitments to irl stuff. I loved working on this and I'm once again thankful to @blood-injections for letting me make these few pages based off their post here.

you can find the previous pages here: 1, 2&3, 4

more explanation and background beneath the cut

I underestimated the amount of work that would go into making these, especially with all the pages being fully rendered. Initially there were supposed to be 6 pages but I ended up having to stretch it to 7 pages. But now I've decided to end it here on the 5th page due to a number of reasons. The first being that I just unfortunately do not have the time for this kind of commitment anymore with me in college now. I also have just moved on from mcr content and have been more interested in other bands and other media. Another reason is that I do not have a lot of time in general to even do digital drawings anymore and finally I feel like my art style right now that I'm currently happy with is a departure from the style that i started this comic with, and it just doesn't fit it very well.

I felt pretty bad having to take so long on working on these pages and only coming out with one, maybe two pages after 3 months, since i've only been able to work on these during my semester breaks.

Thank you to people who've been following and reading along, and again, thank you so so much to @/blood-injections for giving me permission to make their post into this short comic, even if I never ended up finishing it.

This part will just be some final thoughts. I learned a lot while making the pages; panel shapes and placement and how to make it appealing, how to space out and arrange speech bubbles to make the dialog more digestible and easy to read, how to sort of draw out the sound effects which I'm still trying to get the hang of in terms of fonts. The hardest thing I found about making all of these is consistency, not just in terms of schedule but in terms the process of making the comic itself, particularly the designs of the characters. I hadn't created a character reference sheet at all for this since I anticipated it to be short and quick (it was not lol), and so there were quite a few times where I found myself accidentally forgetting to draw some details of the character's designs but since I had already posted them, all I could do was just add the designs I missed in the next pages. I hope that didn't bug you all too much :'3

That's pretty much all I have to say, thank you for the people that stuck around this long but I apologize for not being able to continue the comic due to personal commitments and having moved on to other interests. I hope you all have a good one :]

#my chemical romance #danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #party poison #jet star #fun ghoul #kobra kid

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more-sonorous · 1 day ago

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Uh I love going through your channel and reading all of the stories you come up with and I’m amazed and love them. It brings me joy to read them. I don’t know if you take requests I was wondering if you could do one where race has some problems and Jack is the only one who can get him to talk. Thank you!!!

i loved this ask! played around with it a bit and created a piece full of brotherly love that i'm truly hoping is what you were looking for!

have this little slice of life :)

.....

little ray of sun-- racetrack and jack

By all accounts, Jack Kelly had a decent day. He’d spent the morning pissing Pulitzer off by drawing egregious comics all of the other artists found funny, flinging droplets of ink onto the man’s shoes every time he strolled up to his desk, and using the most horrible grammar he could muster. By five, Pulitzer’s jaw was twitching but he had three spectacular political comics staring him down, so he couldn’t complain. Instead he glared up at Jack and a snarl formed beneath his perfectly groomed mustache as he dismissed him for the day.

Pushing old Joe’s buttons was Jack’s favorite work pastime when he worked at The World on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. It always put him in a chipper mood to know that he was one of the most popular artists on Pulitzer’s team, so the old bastard couldn’t really fire him even if he wanted to since people were raving about his comics. He couldn't fire him over little things anyways, like Jack putting his feet up on his desk or wearing a bandana ‘round his neck instead of a tie. He’d gotten good at subtly irking the man without breaking any office rules, and it added a bit of life to his boring office work. When he earned that little jaw twitch? Well, Jack considered the day a win.

He carefully shelled out a few cents on a pretzel for dinner and finished it on his way back to the Lodgings, brushing the coarse salt off on his trousers and whistling to himself as he walked. At his core, Jack Kelly was a little shit. He enjoyed his little shit moments when he could.

As he dreamed up ways to dramatically retell his office antics for the littlest newsies, he rounded the corner to find Albert’s head of gleamingly red hair perched on the steps leading up to the familiar lodging house. The moment the sarcastic ginger laid eyes on him found him shooting to his feet and practically speedwalking to Jack.

“Kelly!”

“Yo, Albert.” Jack greeted cheerfully, removing his own hat and pushing a hand through his hair as he took a glance at the distressed expression on the freckled face in front of him. His cheer seemed to slip into nothingness. “Everythin’ okay?”

Half of Albert’s thin mouth curled into a snarl. “No. Obviously it ain’t. It’s fuckin’ Racer, Jack, he’s– he’s doing that thing he does and I dunno what the fuck to do.”

“Ah, shit.” Jack sighed, glancing up at the doors as a spike of worry for his almost-little-brother shot through his chest. Tension coiled through his limbs. “Okay, I’ll handle it–”

“You better, man, because I couldn’t. I even got Crutch and Davey to try. He wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t say a goddamn word to us. Davey’s out collecting bits from the guys to pay for Race’s bunk tonight, and I’m sure he’s gonna get enough, but this can’t happen tomorrow. Racer’s already short on cash–” Despite Albert’s harsh, biting tone, Jack knew the kid well enough to see deeply rooted concern in the furrow of his brow and the tight shrug of his shoulders. He was tense right up to his ears.

“I got it, Albert. Anyone tried getting him to eat yet?” He started a quick jog up the stairs and into the building. Though Jack knew what to do, that didn’t make him any less jittery when things like this happened.

He found himself despising his ‘real job’ because it meant he couldn’t spend mornings here with the boys. If he’d’ve known about Race’s situation sooner, maybe his brother wouldn’t’ve missed out on a day of selling. Jack barely checked in with Kloppman as he thundered up the stairs, Albert trailing behind and talking a mile a minute through a lopsided, thickly accented mouth. His speech might’ve sounded like another language to someone that didn’t know him well.

“Yeah, Crutch’s up there workin’ on dinner. I just dunno what coulda caused this one, Jack, he seemed fine yesterday and he was playin’ poker last night before bed– he seemed fuckin’ normal and now he ain’t even speakin’ to anyone–”

“Well, sometimes there ain’t a reason.” Jack toed open the door to the bunkroom and Albert stumbled to a halt behind him, both of them gazing at the sight of Crutchie murmuring softly to a despondent lump of Racetrack. Other newsies lingered silently around, awkwardly pretending like they weren’t nosy-ly watching the scene in the corner unfold. Jack’s chest squeezed tightly and a soft exhale escaped him, worry and exasperation all in one. “Sometimes he just gets like this. But I’ll figure it out, Al, don’t go all batshit on me.”

The redhead practically growled, proving every stereotype of fiery gingers more than true at that moment. Race would be delighted to know that he had an angry guard dog as a best friend. “I ain’t even close to batshit, Kelly.”

“Well, if that's the case, why don’t’cha help Dave collect donations? Scare the kids into puttin’ a penny in your hat or somethin'.” He swiped Albert’s backwards cap right off his head and held it out with a well-practiced cheeky grin, earning him another sneer.

Albert snatched his cap back and stormed out of the room, each movement tight and tense with worry. Jack crossed the room in a few strong strides, gently tapping Crutchie on the shoulder. He held a glass of water and a sandwich wrapped in wax paper, both entirely untouched. When Crutch met his eyes, a silent understanding passed between them and like the well oiled machine of brotherhood they were, the boys switched places. Crutchie ruffled Jack’s hair and tucked his crutch beneath his arm, immediately limping off to go clear the stragglers out of the room.

Jack pushed a hand through Race’s head of fair hair and glanced over his expression– tight with sadness, blue eyes staring straight ahead. “Mornin’, buddy.”

Racer closed his eyes at the sound of Jack’s voice, which he took to be a good sign as he ran his fingers through his brother’s tangled hair. Jack's skin seemed darker than usual against the light coils of Race’s dirty hair, matted and tangled. “Rough day today?”

As expected, Jack didn’t receive a response. He carefully set the sandwich and water aside and tugged his fingers through Race’s hair. It wasn’t very intimate or sweet as it might’ve been with someone like Dave or Kath, because Race was a proper mess and his hair was beyond tangled. Jack worked the kinks out and watched his nose wrinkle and twitch, upper lip curling every so often as a reminder that he was cognitive and alive and feeling something, still.

“Everybody’s worried about you.” Jack started, trying not to betray just how deep that worry was. This wasn’t the first time– far from it– but that didn’t make it any less scary. “I am too, a’course. Wish I woulda been there for you this morning, buddy, but Bastard Old Joe would fire me if I was any more than a minute late to his shitty office. Still, ‘m here now. Want’cha to talk to me, if that’s appealing at all. You gotta talk to someone, after all, or Albert’s gonna get so mad his head’ll turn as red as his hair. Then he’ll explode or some shit, I dunno.”

Jack knew this side of Race like the back of his hand. He remembered countless days in their shared past when Race would wake up just the same as he was now, glued to the sheets and subdued and silent, remaining still and motionless for as long as possible. The impossibly impish trickster he normally was would disappear beneath lumps of thin quilt and stony silence would take over in its wake, turning Racer into someone unresponsive and lethargic. Jack had a hunch that it was because of the constant motion Racetrack was in. Always with a smirk or a stinging quip, running betting circles and poker games and puffing cigars. Full of biting sarcasm, mind racing a mile a minute, bright as a star with nowhere to shine. An engine constantly chugging along, overheating until the point of exhaustion. Breakdown. That was whatever this was– the point where he chugged to a sudden halt and collapsed, withdrawn and almost unreachable.

It happened once or twice a year, almost always in the bleak, dark, wintry months. Sometimes Race would spring out of bed the next morning, chipper like nothing ever happened. One time, when they were around ten and twelve, he was stuck in bed for a week. Jack wasn’t about to let that happen again.

“You don’t want Alfred to explode, do you? We’ll hafta find another token ginger…”

“No.” Race croaked, finally responding to the subtle joking that always drew him out of his shell.

That’s what Jack had figured out– gentle touches, lighthearted mood, quips and teases. It took that. He didn’t respond well to Crutchie’s optimistic mothering or Albert’s intense pushing. Jack could picture Davey in all of his awkward loveliness trying to sternly coach Race out of the bed with false logical positives, like he was waking Les up and trying to get him dressed for the day. No, Jack knew Race, and he knew that Race responded to the feeling that he hadn’t done anything wrong. That things were normal.

“That’s what I thought.” Jack responded, with the same calm cheer coloring his tone. “Now c’mon, you can’t let me have better hair than you for a whole day. You wanna get up? Have a bite of dinner? Looks like someone got you somethin' from Jacobi’s…”

After a moment of silence, Racetrack weakly shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. “Can’t.”

“Can’t get up, that’s okay. I ain’t gonna make you.” He parroted, gently pulling his fingers through Race’s separated curls. “I would like it if you’d talk to me, though. So’s I can get a good night’s sleep, knowin’ what’s on your mind. I know you like torturin’ me but I sorta need my rest…”

The blonde let out a quiet snort, the motion jerking the blankets he held clutched to his chest. Jack couldn’t help his own smile at the transformation in the younger boy’s expression. He seemed to soften around the edges, with a little exhale that spelled progress. “Can’t deprive the great President of his beauty sleep… How’s he gonna sell papes without his pretty boy face?”

“That’s the problem– I need my pretty boy face. It’s the only thing I got goin’ for me.” Jack joked back with practiced ease, like everything was fine and Race wasn’t having one of his bad days. It was good, and it worked, because Racer snorted again.

In one shift of obviously difficult motion, Racetrack rolled onto his back and stared up at the wood holding up the bunk above them. Jack placed a careful hand on his shoulder and went still, waiting patiently. He could see Race’s mind moving behind intelligent blue eyes, the dart of his irises and the wrinkle of his nose as he thought. Sorting through his thoughts. Analyzing. A mathematician's brain, not at all like Jack’s artist brain or Davey’s literature brain or Kath’s journalist brain. Solving a problem. Race was a skeleton of problems and solutions wrapped in skin with a trickster’s smile. He was missing one of his pieces in that bed, because half of his face was occupied by an uncharacteristic frown.

Finally, he spoke. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about what the fuck I’m gonna do after this.”

“After what?” Jack tried to put the pieces together, but he’d never been good at solving Race’s cryptic riddles. “When you get outta bed?”

“No. After all’a this.” He muttered, throwing one hand up as if gesturing to the entire bunkroom. “I got nothin’ planned. Once I’m eighteen and Klop gives me the boot, I’m done.”

Oh. Jack knew this rabbit hole of thought all too well. The cause of Race’s spiral was one that had caused him many spirals of his own, and it probably did the same for almost every newsboy that came before them. “You ain’t done. You basically got two years to figure shit out, man. Plus, you’se smart as a whip. Anybody would kill to have you workin’ for them if they knew how your brain worked.”

“Yeah, but they don’t, and since my Ma had to go and fuckin’ die on me, I ain’t got no schoolin’ to show for it. No proof.” He muttered, dragging his hands over his face. “I hit eighteen and boom, I’m on the streets. My Pa’s gonna want me to join his fuckin’ gang and I can’t do that, Jack, I swear to God–”

“You don’t hafta join any gang, Race, we’ll find you some other job. Stuff comes up when you least expect it. You gotta look at the good and the bad.” Jack reassured, carefully squeezing Race’s shoulder.

He sighed, hard and long. “Well sometimes it don’t feel like there’s any good.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” Jack responded, even though he knew the feeling far too well. Before Pulitzer miraculously offered that job, he’d been thinking the same thoughts. Now he was staring down the barrel of a secure future where he worked full time as an artist for the paper. It had all been pure luck. Chance. How was he supposed to explain that sorta thing? “I hear you, but you might not be lookin’ in the right places. Listen– we’ll get Davey on the job hunt with us. I’m sure he knows a couple places that are hiring. You can get in early, start up part time like me, work your way up. By the time you’se eighteen, you’se set.”

“Okay.” Race breathed, eyes fluttering shut. “Okay, that… that sounds okay.”

“Yeah?”

A tiny nod, a jostling of blonde curls. Jack let out a sigh of relief as Race finally pushed himself to sit up, rubbing his hands over his face. Every movement seemed like he was pushing through a sea of syrupy fatigue, fighting his own body to get things working again. Jack rubbed his back through it all– though he’d never experienced this sort of thing, Race had been through it more times than he could count, and it looked the same every time. Painful, difficult, but a surefire show of Racetrack’s incredible determination.

After a moment, he twisted awkwardly and lurched into Jack’s arms, wrapping him in a messy embrace. “Thanks, Jackie.”

“Don’t call me that, bud.” Jack responded simply, swinging his arms around Race and embracing him happily as the little shit exhaled a harsh laugh into his shoulder. He smelled like sweat and stale bed linens but he was talking and awake and moving, and that was more than enough to make Jack grin. “You want dinner? Water? You’re prob’ly fuckin’ parched.”

“Huh. Guess I am.” He said almost absently, like he was just then remembering his own humanity. Race reached across Jack and downed the glass of water in one go, before Jack offered him the sandwich and he slowly tucked in.

Moments like this made Jack remember why he’d stayed in this position for so long, leading these boys. They made him dread the day he had to leave, too. He slung an arm around Race’s shoulders and leaned back against the headboard of the bunk as the door creaked open, revealing a green-eyed boy with his cap held carefully in his hands. Jack motioned Davey in, tugging Race closer up against his side. The younger boy curled up beneath his arm, seeming to melt into the embrace.

“Hi, Racer. Feeling better?” Davey asked politely, coming to a halt beside the bed and tucking freckled hands into his pockets.

Race nodded wordlessly, without making eye contact as he bit his sandwich. He’d probably only be talking to Jack for a few hours, but that was how things always went. Jack had a remarkable knack for weaseling into people’s cracks and gently breaking them open. Davey rocked back on his feet, wearing a pleasant little smile. “That’s good. Your bunk is all paid for tonight, so no need to worry about that.”

“Great. Thanks, Dave.” Jack briefly grabbed his hand and squeezed, and like clockwork, Davey squeezed back. He trailed up to hold onto the taller boy's wrist as an idea struck him. “Hey, Davey, you think you could help Racer here start up a job search? Like, a post-newsie career?”

“Well, sure. I can think of a couple things that suit you, Race.” He smiled the type of smile that appeared when he had an idea. Jack felt confident for Racer that Davey was going to take good care of this little issue. Things would be okay, even if it was slow going. Even if Race was burrowing further into his arm, looking stony and miserable. “I’ll get back to you on that as soon as possible. Is it alright if I go tell the guys you’re alive and well up here?”

“Go inform the masses.” Jack responded easily, shooting Davey a lazy grin.

Davey returned the bright smile, crinkling his wide eyes into crescent moons. “Yessir. Oh, and Jackie?”

“Yeah, Dave?”

“Les gave me a couple of taffies for Race.” He briefly dug into his pocket and carefully deposited the candies in Jack’s palm, just a simple brush of pale skin against tan. “You don’t have to eat them if you don’t want to, but if you do, I promise they’re safe for consumption.”

Jack thanked him and he disappeared as quickly as he came. Only once Jack had set the taffies aside, did he notice Race’s shit-eating smirk. A little bit of bright mischief was returning to his eyes as he trained them on Jack, brows curling downwards into a ghost of his usual impish expression. That was both a good and bad sign. Jack felt his own eyebrows raising. “What? What are you making that face for?”

Race’s teeth flashed in a little grin as he did a remarkable impression of Dave: “Jackie…”

And that earned him a smack upside the head. Jack’s face prickled with heat as he adamantly shook his head, rolling his eyes to the soundtrack of Race snickering beneath his arm. “Shaddap, ya’ bastard.”

Then he started fucking cackling, and Jack didn’t even have the energy to be pissed off at being the butt of the joke, because Race was gonna be okay. Rough patches were tough, but he could see a bit of sunlight through the clouds. Jack held him a little bit tighter and thanked the higher powers for small breakthroughs.

....

thank you for the ask, darling! <3

#newsies #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #crutchie morris #davey jacobs #david jacobs #they're brothers your honor #sonorouswrites #and has fun writing #i love the jack and race dynamic #asks #answered asks #like they love each other so much #they understand each other #and crutchie too thats the trifecta of sad orphan boys #they give each other shit but its all love #the brothers ever #newsies fanfiction

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digitalgate02 · 3 days ago

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How to corrupt Daisuke and give him a dark evolution (and why ep 22 did not need one at all)

Ni has just watched Kamen Rider Geats, and this subject just came into my mind because my favorite character in this series so far has all the traits Daisuke has, and he's even a walking-mess unlucky kid who gets dragged into a whole chaotic series of events which ends up changing his character DRASTICALLY after a point of the series.

No Geats spoilers mentioned here. Don't worry. We're going to pick our favorite specimen Motomiya Daisuke and study how to apply a corruption arc on his portrayal.

This is a spiritual sequel of this post, which explores Daisuke's weaknesses and how you can exploit them to break and beat him. This is an important step, because if you want to turn a character who canonically lacks malice, you need to understand his weaknesses and then go from there.

First thing to know is about Daisuke's pragmatism. One of the episodes which this gets very clear, about how Daisuke being pragmatic is dangerously SCARY, is ep 25:

This whole discussion between the 02 kids (mostly Daisuke, Miyako and Iori) revolves around the fact Golemon is deadly serious about destroying the dam and having more victims and and that they all should just consider the idea of taking that digimon down and avoid the worst scenario happening. I think Shiha explained this part better than me in this specific subject, so check it out.

But knowing this, let's get to the fun(?) part -- Knowing that Daisuke's weaknesses and his pragmatism you can connect them and realize that breaking him is the only way to drive him into frustration and despair. Daisuke, as I said in the spiritual prequel to this post, cannot work well under pressure, so torturing him psychologically like what happens in episodes 8, 10 and 11 is where you weaken his strength and resistances.

In order words: you have to smash every spark of hope inside him, enough to make him lose his way and then start taking questionable choices in order to solve the problem.

Remember: Daisuke has no malice, therefore he wouldn't turn into a sadistic villain who enjoys hurting others for pleasure and wanting others to just suffer. Daisuke's actions would've still been the same as ever, but corrupt.

He would still want to help others, but instead of finding ways the sane Daisuke would've done, he could've been trying to track down whoever ruined everyone's lives --his included -- and take them all down. Because it aligns with his pragmatic approaches, it matches with the concept of "killing the enemy to prevent more causalities" except it gets driven by the seek of revenge and not the pure intent of saving everyone.

Hurting his friends and family -- or even killing them, if you're THAT CRUEL -- is the key. Because the only way to break someone who is not malicious and yes pure-hearted, is attacking all the things he cares deeply about.

As for 02 ep 22, which kept being unfairly criticized for ages because of the misconception about Dark Evolution...

Daisuke has been running in circles and fooling around only.

He had no negative emotions -- something that it is ESSENTIAL to dark evolution

Daisuke and V-mon had been on good terms in this episode, unlike Taichi and Agumon in Adv'99 in which helped to make things worse because Taichi kept pushing a torn of pressure on Agumon thanks to the Crest. The novel has another approach pointing out that Taichi wanted all the glory of being the first to Evolve Greymon further, which tracks with the idea of having corrupted intents (negative emotions)

Daisuke and V-mon ended up in REAL DANGER later, which means sooner V-mon would evolve normally because digimon evolution is also a sync between human-digimon in order to protect something or someone for noble reasons (at least it's what I think it is about)

Therefore I don't agree with the slander Daisuke and this episode suffer from time-to-time.

But there's more: on a very crack-ish drama CD you have this comical corruption arc for Daisuke...

Narrator: And so, Daisuke and V-mon went into the lumbering fog. Soon, it became apparent that the fog had the same abilities as those of the Digital World to change what someone was wearing, like how Miyako had ended up in her battle suit. And during that moment, a certain kind of thought was swirling in Daisuke’s head… Daisuke: I want to be popular…I want to be popular…I want to be popular… Narrator: And, in order to do that… Daisuke: A dark hero…a dark hero…a dark hero… Narrator: …for example? Daisuke: The Digimon Kaiser…The Digimon Kaiser…The Digimon Kaiser… Narrator: And thus, Daisuke underwent a dark evolution. (evolution noise) Daisuke: Daisuke, evolve…!…Digimon Kaiser.

Daisuke: (evil laughter) Miyako: Who’s that?!…Aaaaaaagh! It’s the Digimon Kaiser! Boltmon: What?! Are you the Digimon Kaiser? The one from all of the rumors? Daisuke: Now, everyone. Bow down before me. I am the one who can control even the power of darkness…the Daisuke Kaiser. Hikari: D-Daisuke-kun? Daisuke: I have been reborn. I shall live on as a hero of evil. Understand, you insects? Tailmon: Hmm…it’s lacking in a bit of punch. Daisuke: W-What. Palmon: He’s saying the right words, but that’s not gonna work by itself… Daisuke: Gh — ah — grrk — Mimi: Yeah, I think we all agree. Crowd of girls: Yeah, Ken-chan is cooler. Daisuke: D-Dammit…Why… V-mon: Daisuke! Try kicking me! Like how the Kaiser was always kicking Wormmon around! Daisuke: A-Are you sure?! Okay…

(kick) V-mon: Ow! Daisuke: Aaaaaaaaah! V-mon, are you okay? I was trying to hold back, too, I was hoping it wouldn’t actually hurt… Crowd of girls: Boo! Boo! Boltmon: Boo. Boo. V-mon: No, that’s not gonna work, Daisuke! Even Boltmon’s booing us! You gotta get into the whole “evil” thing! Daisuke: But…I…can’t do that to you… Ken: Motomiya-kun! Daisuke: (attempting Kaiser persona again) Ah. Ichijouji. Ken: I saw you turning into the Kaiser and came running!…(Kaiser voice) Motomiya-kun. You don’t have what it takes to channel the powers of evil. Daisuke: Hey, you don’t know that for sure! I…have decided to live in the grasp of evil! How dare you imply I don’t have enough willpower. Ken: (evil Kaiser laugh) “Not enough willpower,” you say? Hah. Motomiya-kun. You know nothing of the words you speak. It would be more accurate to say…you don’t have enough power to begin with. [...] Daisuke: Nggghghhhgnnnn…V-mon, is it okay if I go all out…? V-mon: (vaguely Wormmon-ish voice): Dai-chan! It’s okay! I don’t care what happens to me…!

... you realize that Daisuke really has no evil in his heart, therefore he's unable to do sadistic things Ken (as the Digimon Kaiser) has done, and then he fails at being a villain.

When Daisuke is trying too hard to be something he isn't, he completely fails at it. He only succeeds at being a cooler or terrifying person if he's not trying to pose as one. Which makes it 10x scary imo...

So i hope you enjoyed how i perceive the concept of corrupting Daisuke in a very effective way... at least for myself 😅

#ni's digiheadcanons #ni's digitheories #motomiya daisuke #digimon adventure 02

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