#integrated hammer

[historyofguns]

The article "SOG Camp Axe Review — The Ideal Stainless Steel Camping Tool?" by Randall Chaney discusses the utility and effectiveness of the SOG Camp Axe, particularly in disaster situations like the aftermath of Hurricane Milton. Chaney, leveraging his extensive background in law enforcement and outdoor skills, highlights the axe's dependable performance during hurricane cleanup operations. The SOG Camp Axe, provided by SOG Specialty Knives & Tools, features a single-handed design, making it versatile for both utility and defensive tasks. The axe is made from 2Cr13 stainless steel, ensuring durability, and includes a robust glass-reinforced nylon handle, facilitating a secure grip. Its practical hammer feature and protective GRN sheath enhance its functionality. Chaney distinguishes the Camp Axe from SOG's FastHawk tomahawk, appreciating the former's balance and utility for camping and survival use. Overall, Chaney recommends the Camp Axe for its affordability and practicality in emergency preparations.

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

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

Sorry if this is OOC!

[riseandshinedearie]

My favorite hotd couple that never was but could have been and if they were Westerosi nobles would have been shaken from their uselessness and players would have had to play harder is Rhea Royce and Daemon Targaryen.

I don’t even watch hotd, I see stuff about it on tumblr.

I guess I tumblr watch it. But alas… I’m so disappointed they never were.

[mars-ipan]

did anyone else’s public school system have like an obsession with the word/acronym “grit” and just like constantly shove the definitions of the words gumption resilience integrity and tenacity down their throats or was that just mine. either way what was up with that

[twocutlines]

this may be an unpopular opinion but personally i think the thing i struggle with regarding the idea of buck and eddie having satisfying romantic arcs apart from each other is that it is possible for sure, but i don't really. see a way for it to happen without some kind of a shift in the relationship they have each other that moves away from the level of intimacy and closeness they have developed over the past six (6!) years.

because, like, obviously you can have meaningful platonic relationships outside of your romantic partner, but even though buck and eddie are not in a romantic relationship their whole deal is also... not platonic. the space that they occupy in each other's lives is. well. it goes beyond friendship (sorry). and as others have pointed out, part of the reason buck and eddie's past relationships (taylor, ana, etc) have felt so lackluster in comparison to their relationship with each other is simply because they just do not have the kind of emotional intimacy with anyone else that they have with each other – and i don't really think you can have it both ways. the relationship buck and eddie have on the show right now can't continue as it is if the goal is to have them both in well-developed, believable romantic relationships apart from each other; something would need to change.

and i mean. they could do this; it's not impossible. but i think would be a mistake, and not just because i think they have a good foundation for a romantic relationship (though i do) – so much of the story they've told with buck and eddie is about two people who were both very alone in different ways meeting and becoming an integral part of each other's lives, and the relationship they have with each other is a really compelling part of the show. so while having them grow apart from that relationship is technically possible, i don't think it would be a good or satisfying choice narratively

[socksboxsketches]

Amy outfit and hammer idea extra under cut!

!pink mode!

[freddyfreeman]

The Guys Get Shirts

This rant doesn’t make Paul look good (...which is probably why it was taken down originally), but in terms of band rants it is #iconic 

This is the abridged version. 

[squeiky]

This is going to get long. Sorry Op, but sometimes a post just happens to conincide whislt my writing/anlysis brain is on and well.. this happens:

I know this is sonadow posting but ignoring the shipping aspect- this actually encapulates a constant trait of Shadow the Hedgehog (and team dark as well) in which he often lacks the desire or need to constantly SAY or act (in the socially obvious sense atleast) as if he cares or is concerned about you (most people will consider his behavior "tsundere"-like in the fact that he openly has tendencies to deny any allegations of caring for someone, especially that of Sonic).

However,

whats intresting to is that not only does Sonic seem aware of this factoid (that others, aside from team dark memebers as they all dervive from similar ways of expression, dont seem to actievly be aware of), but openly engages with it in a fun, lighthearted and teasing way. Though Sonic is known for his mockery and clowning, when its particularly aimed at Shadow, it always feels like a confirmation rather than a sign of "just messin with him" (though of course it can always be the case).

Its not the best example but- lets say sonic is in need of help and Shadow is on a mission and on the way he decides has to save him. So, on the outside he appears more focused on external things, simply "doing this cause buissness is buissness" or he may be annoyed and scold Sonic for being too reckless and forcing him to have to save him on a mission.

Sonic, brushes it off and is joking about the situation- showing the more braver and stronger front of his persona. This however, may cause Shadow to get angry or annoyed as the light banter contrasts with the emergency.

So basically, the whole thinh could be chalked up to "Shadow get annoyed at Sonic for being dumb and Sonic teases Shadow cause he likes to mess with people" and nothing more.

But then if you examined it a bit more, it could be something more akin to "Shadow is very worried and concerned with Sonic being in danger and actively dislikes it when he is put in troubling situations, he has doesnt express this in a "oh my gosh are you okay🥺?!" So intead he resorts to simple correction of action via light "scolding" or simply telling him not to do it again. (In colors DS, when shadow was worried about his saftey, its simply a "good, your back." Or something similar. Again. Its always implied with him and never stated upfront.) Whilst Sonic, whom understands that hes worried, but requires some amount of vocalized validation to this fact, prys it out of him via the teasing, through the light banter of "why? you worried😏? ", "i didnt know you were such a good hugger" or something like that.

I think this attitude is what makes him feel safer around the people he is with, as if they are able to handle the mocking tone of Sonics more present persona, it would be safe to say that he can trust them enough to feel comfortable lets say.. be carried in someones arms in the middle of space while hes practically dying, because if they can handle the "annoying" part of him and still care about him deeply, then thats a keeper.

I think theres a trust and validation in that aspect.

(I think this especially also plays into characters like team dark, or even knuckles and Blaze. I think hes much softer on characters like Amy and Tails.)

Especially when you realise that Sonic was so pissed off at shadow he actively antagonized and called him a "faker" (yeah thats Sonic's thing. He started that.) And somehow, not only was Shadow about to play off of that in a fun way, he used it to make himself look "better" than Sonic and might actually be one of the first characters in game (that i know of) other than eggman to actually have seriously gotten on his nerves (to the point he was pacing around in jail all like pissed off), which is hilarious.

But overall, it just shows that Shadow can effectively take the worst of Sonic and send it back in a fun way (which grabs at Sonic's addrenline junkie fun-time addicted brain). If anything, once Shadow understands that Sonic literally is "what you see is what you get" he accepts that.

I think there thats where that respect comes from. In both parties as Shadow respects Sonics autheticty and expression, and in i think he may even find an appreciation for it.

Furthermore, you also can see how Sonic is capable of reading people quite well, and is able to understand other peoples thought proccess (which makes him good at making quick jabs that piss them off).

So when swapping the tables and haing Shadow in danger and Sonic the savior, the two probably would function the same way as i discussed prior- except sonic is much more capable of expressing the easy-to-pick up on "oh my gosh are you okay🥺?!" Type stuff. He might even literally say "ohmygosh r u okay 🥺?!" If hes THAT worried.. So Shadow never needs to "pry" anything out of him. In this light, Shadow is well aware thay Sonic cares about him (hes just annoying about it). Which makes it so that what Shadows gains from Sonic is less of that "validation & trust/comfort" and more of.. acceptance and understanding.

Because Shadow is often a character that in-universe is either mythologized, demonized or inhumanized ( inhedgehogized???) But when introduced to Sonic (who remind you is the FIRST character to seriously call Shadow a "heroic hedgehog" or something akin to that)

He becomes well. "shadow the hedgehog" not "Shadow the sciene project" or "Shadow the Ultimate lifeform" or "Shadow the dangerous entity" or what not. Theres a sense of "i take you as you are" type of way that Sonic gives to him. And with that he accepts whatever form Shadoe comes to him with. Never forcing anything on or away from him (to the point where Shadow straight up gives him his own "title" which again, is something SO intergral to who he is that the fact Shadow even did that just shows how much importance Sonic reprenst in his life. It took one person to show him that authenticty and acceptance thats hes

been craving ever since well.. probably maria). I think thats where that particular respect comes from and in some ways? Especially during the very last parts of SA2 where Shadow yells out to him the "i think your the ultimate lifeform!" To sonic and in turn when Shadow "dies", Sonic says hes "Shadow. Shadow the hedgehog" theres a tradeoff there.

The fact of the matter is, i think its more than just "oh look at this shadow says he isnt going to save him but then actually does" because 1. Two difrenet contexts (obviously) but 2. I dont think its even unrealistic for shadow to say he "wont save him" but then actually does.

He cares about Sonic too much to actually let shitty things happen, but wont actively coddle him like team sonic would. If anything, i personally think its more of I "i wont save you, so dont do something stupid, because then thats your fault and im not responsible for cleaning up after you." And less of a "i wont save you, I would let you get hurt/injured and die" type ordeal?

Idk, what do you, dear reader, have to say about this?

thinking....

[william-r-melich]

Identity & Function - 04/12/2024

Since not much is going on other than the usual, what would normally be shocking events but made relatively mild in these tumultuous times, I've decided to re-write my paper on the title's subject.

It’s obvious to me that what something is, is determined by what it actually is.  However, how it is identified can either accurately or inaccurately reflect the purpose of its existence, i.e., if it has a particular function, it should be in line with its identity.  Taking that into consideration begs the question, does identity determine function, or does function determine identity?  Take for example the purpose of a plyers is to establish a firm grip that would otherwise be impractical, and/or unsafe to just use your hands.  If you were to use a plyers to pound a nail, in that moment, would that make it hammer?  Of course not, but you could call it a hammer just as you could call anything, anything you want.  Or would turning a screw with a coin consequently make it a screwdriver?  In effect you have, yet that is not the integral purpose of a coin regardless of what you use it for.  It is intended as a means of material trade.  A cardboard box is typically used to contain material items, but you could break them down and build a makeshift shelter for a homeless person to live in.  Numerous examples of things being used for many different uses in endless creative ways can make it confusing to determine this identity and function dichotomy.  Examining each consideration separate from the other can help you to make a definitive determination.  Let’s say that function determines identity.  You could then say that a coin is a screwdriver when you use it as such, which would force you to ignore what it actually is within itself.  If you say that identity determines function, you could still use the coin as a screwdriver, but you would still call it what it actually is, a coin.  By that standard, breaking down cardboard boxes to build a shelter would lead you to conclude that you’ve effectively changed the identity by breaking them down as they would no longer be functioning as storage containers.  In the other standard, function as determining identity, they wouldn’t have a singular identity until you use them for either storage or for building a shelter.  It would seem to me to be less confusing to simply identify them as boxes regardless of what you use them for. Things are what they are in and of themselves and can function more properly when used for what they are intended, and even if something functions just as well for something outside the integrity of its identity, it still physically remains what it materially is regardless if it’s been modified or changed to the extent that it changes its identity.  Given that identity remains constant as what it is or what it becomes as still having identity, and that function is more fluid in that you can use almost anything for multiple purposes, then identity is predominantly foundational.  Therefore, identity determines function.

[lathez]

Skyrim Warhammers Tiered on Whackability

F-Tier: Dawnguard Rune, Orcish, Ebony

These are far too pointy and lack weight. Especially Dawnguard Rune. I enjoy the elegant cylindrical head, but it's giving aluminum. The Ebony Warhammer is actually quite ugly and inelegant, and the Orcish Warhammer has such a large mouth that it's no good for whacking at all. BAD.

D-Tier: Iron, Steel, Dwarven

Mhm, mhm, yes yes. Much more solid here, however, both steel and iron are still far too pointy. Dwarven is perfect for cudgeling, however, it unfortunately looks too small and lacks weight. 0/10 would not whack it.

C-Tier: Nordic, Daedric, Glass, Elven

A truly reprehensible level of pointy, however, these hammers clearly have some weight to them and can WHACK. I especially feel that the Elven Warhammer would be excellent for whacking.

B-Tier: Volendrung, Champion's Cudgel, Ancient Nord Warhammer

Volendrung could feasibly be S tier but they overdesigned it and made it fucking POINTY. Solid whack but NO POINTY.

Champion's Cudgel is pointy done correctly. Love the tenderizer. But not higher because I don't like the looks of that head weld.

Ancient Nord Warhammer is one solid whack, however I doubt its structural integrity, I do feel that the handle may snap.

A-Tier: Dragonbone

NOW THAT'S A SOLID WHACK. Idk why it has a little keychain holder but sure. Who tf is gonna run up on the guy with a dragon hip bone hammer? Structurally solid. Based. Nice quality welds. If you're using any hammer below this tier, kill yourself.

S-Tier: Stahlrim Warhammer

This is the SINGLE GREATEST WEAPON IN SKYRIM. THIS IS A GIANT PIECE OF ICE ROCK ATTACHED TO A HANDLE. WHACK. WHACK WHACK. WHACK WHACK. 10/10 WOULD FUCKING WHACK.

[bubblyernie]

I've been meaning to draw Ashton for literally like... a year now, but I found the excuse to do it now bc of that album that was released (this one song in particular) :3 I loooove how well the genre was integrated and taliesin's singing is so fun!!

anyway, album cover featuring hammer-turned-guitar

art tag // commission info // sticker on redbubble

[artsy-hobbitses]

In truth there is no better place to be Than falling out of darkness still to see Without a premonition Could you tell me where we stand? I'd hate to lose this light Before we land And when I feel like I can feel once again Let me stay a while Soak it in a while If we can hold on we can fix what is wrong Buy a little time For this head of mine Haven for us

One of the things that I adore about Ties That Bind was the journey that Preston 'Prowl' Wan took to become a fully-fledged character, where he initially began as simply a mirror of IDW Prowl. And to honour that development, the man whose compassion is no less real for being learned rather than innate, who sees numbers and the faces behind them with the same crackshot clarity, and who believes not in gods or fate or a higher calling but in people, and in you Jazz, has earned a brand new character sheet! His old sheet can be found here And below, you'll finally find his full story!

Preston Wan Peirong remembers little of his childhood, which is perhaps for the best in some aspects; Hard to tell the truth from a lie in a memory when one doesn’t know how many times they have been ‘rewritten’.

However, what he can tell you with unnerving clarity was the coldness of it all. The sterility. The unquestionable sense of order and obedience to the system he was told kept the world from devolving into chaos after it narrowly avoided total annihilation. 

As a cold construct, Preston was a part of a batch commissioned specifically for the law enforcement division and grew up in the youth wing of China’s Public Security Academy in Beijing. Here, he was trained to become a police officer from the day he was old enough to respond when the numbers under the barcode stamped on his neck were called out: P7031 Names weren’t given; Names had to be earned. 

Every aspect of his life and that of those in his batch was strictly regimented down to the last minute; Food calculated down to the last calorie for maximum performance with minimum waste to funding. Lesson room, shooting range and dorm temperatures kept frigid to ‘sharpen the mind’. The text which met his gaze, the lessons which rang in his ears, the words that came out of his mouth when he was permitted to speak.

He learned early on what his purpose was in the world, and had it drilled into him how integral purpose was to keeping the system running; Everyone had a purpose, everything had its place, and as long as the people understood both, order would be maintained, and order had to be maintained to keep the peace for the good of the many. Sometimes, yes, that meant oiling the gears. Other times, it was hammering down stray nails.

That purpose drove him, and by seven, indoctrinated him so thoroughly that he didn’t question the stinging in his knees when he was ordered to kneel on rice grains during his lesson drills, or his own hunger when ordered to go without meals until he’d learned to disassemble and reassemble his weapon at a speed which put officer cadets to shame. 

At eight however, the sterile and orderly world he knew within the academy walls began to crack; Sitting on the top of his batch, it was decided by the academy trainers that he needed more one-on-one tutelage after class hours. It was decided that he needed a handler. 

Tan Yumei was a former soldier; a renown crackshot with steel in her eyes and in her bones from years in service to the state; The kind that made her sit up straighter when the offer was made for her to become a glorified babysitter—in her words—to what had to be the world’s best behaved boy. 

Asset, the interviewer would correct her. Not a boy; an asset. Our asset. 

The promise of a job in the academy which would come with pay and medical benefits which far eclipsed her government pension was too tantalizing to pass up, and she took on the child known as P7031 under her wing. 

She was to train him in field work and help with his assimilation into society; the silo of the academy gave him the skills necessary, but could only do so much to help him function as part of the system. 

As often as she was told to treat him as an asset, a tool rather than a child, that proved easier said than done as Yumei found herself warming up to all four-foot-six of stoic, stony-faced, serious-as-a-heart attack P7031. 

It started small and innocuous; ice cream as a treat for a job well done, something completely novel to the child. No sense using the stick exclusively when the carrot was there as long as results were achieved, she would assure the staff.

This hid her growing disturbance with the way P7031 was raised, more so as he began to light up when when she greeted him every morning, began to smile as she praised him for things that weren’t tied to the purpose given to him by the academy, began to question the world around him in ways he had never been given the chance to do before with the kind of childish wonderment that dissipated into thin air when it came time to return to the academy. 

And P7031 began to feel his worldview shift as well, as she was the first person to treat him like the child that he was, whether it be reading with him young adult novels not approved by the academy board or snapping the very first pictures of himself he was allowed to keep (a gift to remind him that he existed beyond the academy walls). Attachments were an alien concept to him; he understood that his purpose meant connections beyond duty—whether it be family or friends, neither of which he had prior to Yumei— were wasteful, unnecessary, dangerous. But for the first time in his nine years of living, he wanted for something more than purpose. He wanted a life with his handler, his mother, as the card he presented to her on a second Sunday in May proclaimed with words easier written than spoken.

And as the time grew near for her handler contract with the academy to end, it was a sentiment Yumei echoed. 

When he was ten years old, she came for him after hours; silent, stealthy and wreathed in shadow, promising him a life away from the academy, from a purpose he never asked for. 

And at ten years old, time froze for him. 

P7031 didn’t remember anything of that night; The escape to the docks. The lullaby hummed to keep him calm. The struggle and the thunderclap that spattered his coat in blood that wasn’t his, and the wretched, barely human sound that tore from his throat. 

He didn’t remember being dragged back to the academy beaten within an inch of his life screaming blue murder. 

Didn’t remember the golden eyes crinkled at the edges with amusement as he begged for them to stop, because he knew Uncle Gold-Eyes, the one they called Trepan, to be a doctor who dealt with ‘defective’ assets; something he had once prided himself in never being. He didn’t care that he was defective; they had already taken the only person worth anything in his life away from him physically, and they were prepared to take what remained of her in his mind to ‘fix’ him. 

His pleas fell on deaf ears, and what he did remember, after all this, is simply his dorm room, Spartan as ever. 

Life went on, with only whispers of the unexplained cancellation of the handler initiative, which he’d never heard of, as a ripple in the monotony of his classes, shooting range practice and on-field assignments.

At eighteen, he graduated from the academy and finally earned the right to a name, and P7031 became Officer Wan Peirong, assigned to the Chengdu Security Bureau where he became one of its rising stars. 

His professionalism, loyalty and sense of duty were unmatched, even among his batch, and he unquestioningly served the system that kept the nation running. Criminals had no place in the system, but as he was told by his superiors, neither did dissidents who threatened order and had to be re-educated, taught the error of their ways to become productive citizens the same way he had been molded into a model worker in the academy. 

In this period, blips in his memories became more frequent, though his attending physician dismissed his concerns as it didn’t impact his work. Work which he began to question one day when his task entailed breaking up a miners’ protest downtown. As he led one activist away, an elderly woman kowtowed at his feet, begging for him to show mercy to her son, and something in her voice made him loosen his grip with the beginnings of doubt.

Miners were not an outlying group; they were a sizable section of the populace, and they weren’t the only group voicing their grievances. He was tasked with helping keep the peace; something he was told repeatedly that the many desired over the few who bucked against the order. But who was he serving when those who bucked against the order he was told should not be challenged became the many? 

It was a question Peirong struggled with as the days went by and dissent grew louder among the working class, which authorities were ordered to respond to with mounting force even for the pettiest infractions.

He began to seek out banned texts, including translated copies of ‘Towards Peace’, supposedly penned by a Cold Construct just like him from the west, to gain clarity on the situation; He reasoned that ne had to study all angles before making a move after all, and the more he read, the more shaky his faith grew in an institution which was far from the paragon he had been promised in the academy. 

He wasn’t a fool however; he knew how the system worked inside and out, and began searching for loopholes to secretly help out people he believed were being failed by the system, as well as utilising malicious compliance to cover his tracks in a real-time game of chess with his superiors.

It all came to a boiling point one day, as he was assigned to a squad escorting a group of political prisoners to a new facility. 

Among them was someone Peirong recognised as one Brandon Shen Bailin; a charismatic and  defiant radio deejay-reporter from Hong Kong who recently came out as a Cold Construct and was nicknamed the ‘Blaster’ for the exposes he penned about the government. 

Brandon had gone missing weeks ago on assignment in Xinjiang; no amount of bandages and no large a hoodie could hide the toll that time had taken on the man, who was now emaciated and missing all of his fingers.

Before Peirong could fully process what he was seeing, the reporter was separated from the rest of prisoners and forced to kneel, as a gun was placed in Peirong’s hands by the Second-Level Inspector and he was told to dispose of this enemy of the state.

What was unspoken but clearly understood between both of them, as Peirong could deduce from the officers closing in on him, was that this was a test of loyalty as his wavering faith in the system was becoming clear to the bureau’s cabal. 

The choice was made in a split second; he refused his commanding superior’s orders, shot the man square between the eyes before they could draw their weapon and then kneecaped the rest of the officers before the dust settled.

Hauling Brandon into the shotgun seat of the prisoner transport truck and driving off, he helped the reporter liaise with a contact that directed them to a rendezvous point at the nearby contested China-Arunachal Pradesh border to fight extradition orders. 

With authorities not far behind, Peirong pressed on and covered for them as they raced towards the border, following in Brandon’s lead. He had spoken with them throughout the journey; stilted and monotonous as ever on his end as he struggled to connect with them, but two things were clear, as they made that run for freedom:

The first was that the system was untenable if it would deem parents, poets, artists and blue collar workers–the many, the unarmed—as enemies of the state.  The second, was that while they ran for their lives, he wasn’t sure whether he’d ever truly lived at all. 

This was a sentiment that Peiriong echoed, after he was overpowered by men in the same uniform he wore, to the constable pressing the nozzle of a gun to his forehead; That they were free to take his life, a life where the only moment he’d felt even barely alive was he had defied an order for the first time. 

The argument that occurred next between two commanding officers who debated his fate was a surprise, though not so much as the revelation that this wasn’t the ‘first time’ he had broken protocol, and that he had apparently broken protocol one too many times that they were now weighing his use against the cost needed for his ‘upkeep’. 

In a day of firsts, it was also the first time Peirong had allowed his emotions to overwhelm him, as his increasingly frantic demands to know what they did to him before this—suddenly the blips in his memories made sense—was met with a pistol whip to the temple, and booming sound which made him believe for a fraction of a second that the gunman had kept true to the threat to kill him. 

Except he still breathed, and despite the ringing in his ears, he dazedly managed to push himself up to see the officers scattered and stunned while a new man stood in their midst; armored, backlit against the sun, and smiling.

The words were muffled, but he could read the man’s lips clearly; “Focus on me.” 

It was the singular thread of clarity he needed to finally accept the hand outstretched to him as both of them made a run for the waiting aircraft that would, for better or worse, take him away from his purpose, from the only life he knew. 

The man, who introduced himself as Jace Zayden codenamed Jazz, was a friend of Brandon who had refused to leave without the lone cop who had risked everything to help them.

And where Peirong had feared losing his purpose, his reason for existing with the single step he took beyond China’s borders, he found that he had instead traded it in for another the moment Jace invited him to team leader Omar ‘Orion Pax’ Parvez’s table to discuss strategy; something this new team desperately needed. 

He chose a new name, Preston, to mark his departure from his old life, and focused on his new purpose as framed by the man who saw worth in his life when those he’d once pledged it to did not: Peace through compassion, even if learned, over oppression. 

And between understanding what it meant to live as a man rather than a government asset, and forging connections beyond what duty once dictated for him, maybe, just maybe he could one day piece together the scattered fragments of his past. 

[yandere-wishes]

༄｡° Ice on Ice ༄｡°

𐙚 Yandere!Capitano Drabble

𐙚 Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, gore, manipulation

𝄞 Song: Kill V. Maim by Grimes

⋆˙❅ He's molded you into his perfect darling. His perfect weapon ❅⋆˙

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚‧͙̩̩͙

It's always snowing in Snezhnaya .

Even in the dead of summer.

Capintano glides across the castle like a shadow. Shying away from the moonlight gleaming through the towering windows.

Ice slithers up his arm, forging into the hilt of his glacial sword.

He can smell your bloodlust in the air, good, you've already commenced the integration.

The lower levels of Zapolyarny castle speak only of terrors.

It's where the faithless come to die.

Traitors to Her Majesty.

It was where he'd kept you upon your initiation, where he burned you down and fabricated you anew.

His pretty little deadly thing.

So eager to please.

So loyal

The salty tang of blood permeating the air has his heart racing, furious war drum hammering in his chest. He follows the embers of your rage, standing by the threshold watching as you dig your knife deeper into the traitor's shoulder. Capitano basks in your raw fury. Your anger sweet on his tongue.

"Darling"

His voice is low, a whisper among the screams. Snowflake on ice and yet you still jump to attention. Run up to him with a sweet smile that doesn't quite suit the crimson specks adorning your cheeks.

His eyes glide across your taut body, spine straight, fingers up in salute. Your pyro delusion glowing gently at your waist. Ready to engrave his commands upon your bones.

"Master, the prisoner has confessed to carrying out treason against the crown. But he's yet to disclose the whereabouts of his fellow rebels."

"He will."

Capitano hands you his coat, relishing the delicate way you clench the heavy thing. Cradling it in your chest as if it's more precious than all the constatations above Tyvat. He pulls his helmet up, ever so slightly, enough to press his frigid lips against your cheek and lick the specks of blood. You freeze, fingers grasping the fuzzy pelt.

"Come watch, my darling"

He stalks towards the bloodied man, twirling his sword, letting the tiny ice splinters impale the traitor at random. The man cries, voice hoarse and weak. The slim glaciers replacing blood with frost.

You trail after him, lovesick and devotion in every step, his coat hanging from your shoulders.

Heavy burden upon frail shoulders, such a perplexing thing you are...

Capitano can't help but smile in satisfaction. He's molded you into perfection, sculpted you from the purest ice. He studies your work rigorously. Pain painted across the vile canvas. The traitor's right eye is missing, the socket scorched, torrid flesh pealing from his arms. His shirt ripped, rude stab wounds still fresh, still dripping ruby.

He's trained you well.

Trained you to make nation topple and archons bow. To bend the stars and flames with your fealty.

Maim and kill.

Because this world is too cruel for righteous little boys and naive little girls.

Kill and maim or else it will be done to you.

You pull the informer's hair back as Capitano lands a metal-clad punch to his face, blood sprays unceremoniously, spoiling Capintao's black-silver armor, followed by the familiar clatter of a tooth hitting the thinly iced floor.

Capintano steps back, braces himself for a moment then thrusts his sword into the rebel's thigh. Marring the sturdy hoar a rotten red. Frost blisters skin ripping the soft tissue underneath.

Ice chips bone

Meat falls to the cold ground.

The man screams, crying out locations and names in jetted tongue. His eyes slowly grow darker.

The blood continues to pool.

You clap your hands cheerfully. Letting the man's head fall forward "Well done master."

For a fleeting second, as you skip towards your master, you catch the traitor's picture in the odd light. You gulp, the creature staring back wears your face, your body, your skin. You see yourself in the dead stranger. Stubborn face and blank eyes. You blink and it's gone, a trick of the dark, one you're too eager to forget. Those days have passed, left to decay in snow-covered tombs. You are someone else now, more importantly, you are Capitano's lover, his most devoted soldier. No longer a gullible thing chasing after empty ideals.

Capitano towers over you. A stone pillar etched of ivory paragons. His iron fingers wrap around your smaller wrist as he pulls you forward. Your fingers lace through his ebony main, while your other hand pulls up the helmet, desperate for his kiss. Biting his lips and letting the blood from his armor stain your uniform. He pushes pain and loyalty down your throat with metallic spiced kisses. Replaces the pearls of your spine with molten lava and brimstone. His touches are frostbite running rampant across your body. Peeling away skin and inscribing mortality and ethereal strength into the soft tissue of your organs. Leaving your lungs corked with icy doctrines.

He has sculpted his style of blade work into your blood. Your veins pump explosions through your body.

Capitano's lips trace the expansion of your neck, savoring your essence between harsh kisses and harsher lovebites. You feel like a sword in his hands, meticulously forged with the finest steel. He has killed many apostates with you. Used you to serve the Tsaritsa without fail

Weapon of war, built from the corpse of a little lost girl.

The frenzy in your eyes, the cosmic thumb of your heart, the way your fingers claw, and the silver of skin of his neck.

Deadly deadly deadly.

He plays the role of the virtuous knight.

Only he's come to learn that many mistake virtue for pacifism.

No.

Love and loyalty are delicate threads entwined with massacre and pain.

You must kill to protect loyalty.

You must kill to protect love.

And how better to express both than in love letters penned with fresh scarlet and decay?

"Get rid of the body, we have much work to do." He raises his sword up to the thin ray of moonlight. For a second your reflection flashes across his icy sword, broken and damaged and perfect in every way. He gives you a final kiss on your templet. Before retrieving his coat and turning away. Disappearing in the dark.

You sigh, breath observable in the chill. Your fingers ignite, warmer and warmer. Preparing for another cremation.

Capitano smiles, ridged, grotesque. As a putrid sickly saccharine scent wafts through the castle's dungeon.

He's raised the perfect lover.

Devoted to a fault and stronger than any weapon.

He's looking forward to unleashing you upon the rebel's nest.

Looking forward to the dance of savage carnage.

It's summertime in Snezhnaya 

Although you couldn't tell from the snowy blizzard outside...

When is Varka coming out? I want to be caged between the two of them so badly 😭😭

Also, guys, what if Capintano is Rustam or Arundolyn?? 🤔 I feel like I'm onto something

°🪼° @choueries @animelover6000 @viannasthings

[would-they-listen-to-that]

How to Make a Self-Ship Playlist (when you're too afraid to ask)

hey there! you! yeah, you, lurking in the f/o tag, i see you. so you wanna make a self-ship playlist but don't know where to start? welcome to "would-they-listen-to-that" radio, ran by a self-shipping veteran! this post is a special request from an anonymous caller, so let's get into it! how do we make a self-ship playlist when we have zero idea what we're doing?

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ STEP ONE: BLORBO ROULETTE ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

The first step is to pick someone who catches your eye! Who's that fictional character lurking in the back of your mind? Who have you thought about snuggling with to distract yourself from the monotony of a three-hour geometry lecture? Whose tag did you take a "casual stroll" down last night? If you've got someone in mind from those questions alone, there's your target!

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ STEP TWO: DATING ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

No, not that kind of dating. I'm talking about historical dating! The time period your character comes from influences the music they listen to! Are they a vampire from the late 1980's? Try some early trad-goth bands and hair metal! Are they a magical girl from the early 2000's? Try some y2k girl groups and rnb! "But mod, what if my character is anachronistic, and their whole shtick is they act like a 1940's jazz singer yet they live in 2020?" If you somehow catapulted Ella Fitzgerald into the nowadays, don't be afraid to be anachronistic with your playlist! Billie Holiday can go right next to Billie Eilish!

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ STEP THREE: SOUNDING IT OUT ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

If your f/o has one, listen to their soundtrack for inspiration! What genres are present in their soundtrack? If they sing, in what style? What do they sing about? What kinds of music reflect their environment? If the character has any musical inclination or is a fan of certain musicians, take that into account! If your blorbo is a canon Weezer fan or sings along to Frank Sinatra, that gives a strong basis of what they listen to.

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ STEP FOUR: ULTRASOUND ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

That's right, you gotta look inside yourself. You're a character in this self-ship too. It takes two (at least) to tango! Find songs that are meaningful to you. What types of music do you enjoy? What songs do you believe are integral to your relationship with your blorbo? What songs describe your feelings towards them? If you have an enemies-to-lovers relationship, look into songs that have a similar theme. Don't be afraid to explore new music too! Who knows what you might find? There's always an opportunity to hear your new favorite song!

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ STEP FIVE: BE FREE ‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

Seriously, cringe culture is dead. If it's not, I'm giving you and your f/o hammers so you can kill it. You're allowed to have fun with fiction. The FBI isn't gonna swarm your house because you wanted to give Batman a kiss. It sounds cheesy, but the first (and only step really) to making a self-ship playlist is to have fun and be yourself. You don't need to listen to this post! I'm not the be-all end-all of self-shipping! Whether you take my advice is totally up to you! There really are no wrong answers here!

If you made it this far into the yap session, thank you so much for reading! I hope this advice serves you well! If not, that's okay too! As always,

thanks for dialing in!

[drenched-in-sunlight]

random math moment but two-handing a weapon will multiply STR stat by 1.5, Marika hammer requires 20 STR, 12 DEX and 19 FTH.

Marika has to hold it in two hands in order to wield it which means girlie’s base stat is probably just 14 STR, 12 DEX and 70 FTH (Minor Erdtree incantation) 💀

like… im wheezing cuz yeah i still draw her with muscles and all, but all that is just for show. This woman puts all her points into faith !!! [Faith build is viable joke here]

Also if it’s Radagon he can hold the hammer with one hand. (“Here i abandon my STR and DEX build”)

And the thing is, faith build is actually viable in Elden Ring! when it’s her kids! (Miquella, Malenia, Messmer, Godwyn’s faith-scaling spells are all offensive spells), and Radagon who is INT-FTH hybrid (i have a lore rant about how one of the reasons he married into Carian line is to integrate offensive spells into power of Gold)

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Today I rewatched all of season 2 with a friend who hadn't had the chance to see it, and it's really true that if the pacing seemed off to you as it aired, try watching it altogether. It flows so well when you're not spending a week in between episodes hyping up theories and over-analyzing throwaway lines.

The rewatch hammered home how lucky I feel to have this show! It's so good, friends. I'm so incredibly grateful we got this show.

Some of the little things that I didn't appreciate on first watch that I just adored on a rewatch:

How well Archie and Zheng Yi Sao are immediately integrated into our cast. They had limited time and their writing is really cleverly done to endear us to them immediately.

Every Buttons and Auntie interaction, absolute gold

Surprisingly (for me), Ed and Izzy's interactions in the first two eps. It's just so terminally unhinged. The way Izzy says he "has love" for Ed like he's ashamed of it, like how you have a sickness. "Do you think I wouldn't know the smell of my own rotting former first mate?" The way Ed handed Izzy a gun to try to get him to shoot Ed, but Izzy tried to shoot himself instead and was symbolically reborn. It's good shit.

The Gravy Basket scenes really rewards a rewatch. Try to pick up on clues something's up before Ed realizes, it's great fun.

The way Stede's devotion to Ed is immediately palpable.

Ed and Stede are so soft and cute for each other dear lord. just gets better and better.

The musical choices are top notch, especially in those first three episodes. The sound design in general is exceptional.

The way this show is shot, dear lord. There is so much care in every shot, it doesn't look like a basic TV show.

Every actor in this show is giving it their all. Rhys and Taika are phenomenal, of course, but Con is amazing, Matt Maher makes me love Black Pete more with every rewatch, David Fane is perfect, and Samba Schutte is so incredible. Roach doesn't have a lot this season but Samba gives every line 110%.

Such! A! Good! Show!! If you didn't like the pacing on first watch, take my word for it, try a rewatch.