#listen i'm rusty

[emilmoreno]

@kira-aminu Location: Beach Front, Emil's home. As the sun slowly set over the horizon, both Emil and his furry four-legged companion were sprawled across the sand just a skip and a hop from the front gate to his dwelling. Zero idea where his shoes were, or the last time he'd checked his phone - for the time, or an update from Kira on when she'd left to meet him. The man was exhausted in a way he couldn't recall being in a very long time, and he was kind of hoping perhaps the beach may just peacefully swallow him whole. At some point, the shadow of another human passed over him and blocked out the cotton candy rays of sunset that painted the sky. Emil squinted upwards, one eye still closed as he peered up at his company. "Hey there sunshine... don't mind me, I've just had a hard time talking myself into... moving, existing. Ya know." His laugh was a thick rumble in his chest. Belatedly the black and white ball of fur lazed beside him on the beach perked up and sounded Kira's arrival. "Some guard dog you are Herc..."

[coffeecalliope]

Me, every time there's a spooky book in any media after listening to The Magnus Archives:

[athousandbyeol]

st(r)ay.

he dreamed of warm hugs. tender caresses on the crown of his hair. tidying the messy curls of his bangs behind reddening ears. and he would giggle. he would blush. he would have tears in his eyes. all good things. everything wonderful.

he dreamed of a pair of piercing eyes. that gaze was never directed at someone else but him. and he would replay that scenario every night, each scene was an animation against the emptiness of the ceiling—before he could remember how lonely his nights were before he came. because he was alive when those eyes were on him—he felt so seen.

and that infamous cold smile. he saw it through the haze in his vision and the daze in his mind. and he couldn't remember anything else but that smirk, the smugness of it all.

the roughness of his palms against the softness of his own. they flutter like broken butterfly wings. but still so mesmerising. when their fingers intertwined, he saw a splash of colour, in all shades of black and blue and grey and him.

sheng wang dreamed of jiang tian.

he saw jiang tian in the recesses of his imagination. there were tears in his eyes. they fell. and fell. but jiang tian was still quiet—why was he so silent?

and sheng wang tried reaching out. but the distance between them grew the more he crossed the forbidden line. jiang tian was untouchable. elusive. like the nightmare he had as a child. like the memories of his father's fading warmth on his skin, the conversations between them, tiki-taka. and by then, sheng wang realised, everything was in vain.

so he opens his eyes.

he opens his eyes and sees a shadow of light against jiang tian's face. his features gradually soften as the moonshine dances elsewhere, promising the stars to tango. and its darkness again, in all of its glory, bestowing on the sleeping jiang tian. but in sheng wang's vision, he has always been the brightest. nothing could ever compare to jiang tian's blinding shine.

oh.

and sheng wang feels the overwhelming urge to hold him. to embrace him. to be with him. because he has always been curious—those little touches were lethal, and sheng wang's already addicted. there's so much more in jiang tian that sheng wang wishes to desire. can he?

the sense of security washes over him like a growing tide, making his lungs tighten, and sheng wang could never forget how jiang tian made him feel.

and he feels so much. too much.

he could never forget how jiang tian made him be.

jiang tian is now drenched in red.

sheng wang knows this is a warning, a sign—don't. they sound like white noise in his ears, these no's and don'ts and pleas. sheng wang couldn't care less. because temptation has always been so delicious, and sheng wang's always a bit reckless.

so he leans closer. just enough to count the long lashes brushing against jiang tian's cheekbones, lulling him to sleep. just enough to remember the zeal of jiang tian's presence, ever-so-grounding, like an old tree under the pouring rain. just enough to understand that he loves.

he loves jiang tian so. he hopes jiang tian won't go.

his heart, oh, his poor heart. sheng wang believes that jiang tian could hear it. the roar. the growl. but maybe sheng wang wants jiang tian to listen. listen to the voice calling his name ever since—ever since he knew what wanting is—ever since he understood what loving is.

it's cold. so sheng wang pulls the blanket further up, covering both of them, sheltering them from the potent glare of these red lights. and when he breathes jiang tian in, sheng wang surrenders. he shudders.

don't leave me.

sheng wang shatters.

[some-zer0]

If I had a nickel for every time Alexander J. Newall wrote a story about an infectious gestalt plant which initially appeared to be made of a non-living material and which was at least in part developed by Isaac Newton (who's gone too far in the pursuit of science with no regard for what his discoveries might be used for), then I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened twice

[callmegaith]

All eyes on you, Houdini... On stage you're the center of attention. You craved it so much it killed you.

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

KANAYA: I Must Say I Find Karkats Knight Outfit Rather... Simple

KANAYA: Not Heir Of Breath Or Maid Of Time Simple, This Is More Of The Opposite Side Of The Spectrum

KANAYA: This Is The Kind Of Simple You Get With Saltine Crackers

KANAYA: Or Skim Milk

KANAYA: I Guess I Cant Expect Too Much From A Classpect That Gives You A Pair Of S... Slops?

KANAYA: What Are Slops? 

KANAYA: Okay I Know Joggers, I Know Khakis, I Know Jeans

KANAYA: This Is A Subgenre Of Pants That I Am Not Familiar With 

[thelakesuite]

finally found the murderer music and it was the one acoustic song on a local punk band's album i first heard yesterday. somehow. anyway i guess it's albert time again

[patch-ie]

wips

[theanxiousghostartist]

A random TMA - related event from my art show last night:

I had submitted a lot of art for this show (it was my last one at my school because I'm graduating), including a lot of TMA art. Now, every year, we have a guest judge, and this year's judge happened to bring his partner, who was an archivist. One of my former art teachers had called me over to talke to them, and she had mentioned my art because she was happy that someone knew what an archivist was. Now, I thought she saw this art of Helen:

(The background is a very heavy eyestrain warning, so I tried to tame it here. Basically just a swirl of bright rainbow colors)

It's not too questionable for a non-fan ig. People who had no idea what the podcast was said the perspective looked cool.

But no. No, no. Instead, she saw this (a last minute submition to fill out space on my board):

She added in a joke/reference, saying she hoped she wouldn't have to give up her skin. I was in shock for a minute and had to quickly explain that it was from TMA and how it was a horror podcast, and the idea was from another fan on Tumblr, ect, etc.

She said that she would check it out and walked away with the judge as they continued to explore the rest of the artwork at the show.

So...

I may have gotten another person into the podcat

Or

Scared someone away from the podcast

And I don't know which 😭

[beetroot-merchant]

W E ' V E B E E N T R Y I N G T O C O N T A C T Y O U A B O U T Y O U R C A R ' S E X T E N D E D W A R R A N T Y

[loverboybrightsideghost]

hey there - I've been thinking of listening to rqg thanks to all your excellent posts about it, but I've never listened to an actual play show before. can I ask. how do you do that. are there seasons? is it all one story and you have to start at the beginning?

RUBS MY EVIL LITTLE HANDS TOGETHER!!!

but genuinely, i'm glad you asked! when i saw rqg from the outside before listening to it, i was also not really sure what it was.

rusty quill gaming is one long campaign (through not all actual play podcasts are!), and it is called "erasing the line." there are four seasons, although the seasons don't really have an equal number of episodes between them (season four is the longest). each episode is about forty minutes to an hour long, and they have mid-episode breaks, so if you can't listen for that long, you could totally pause it in the break and come back later.

you should definitely listen to it in order, and i suggest starting with the episode 0 metacast. moment of truth, i did not listen to that episode again on my relisten, i am listening to it now as i write this, but i do believe it contains Important Lore to understanding the story world, so i highly recommend starting there.

there aren't content warnings on the early episodes, but i think you can check the fandom wiki for a specific episode to see them, as fans have added them there (not sure if they're there for every episode though).

also there are kind of official transcripts on their website, but i am not sure how accurate they are as i have not read them. i know it was a Whole Deal with rusty quill (the company) to make transcripts, because they didn't do them from the beginning in 2015 and especially with something like actual play it can be hard and time-consuming to transcribe, and as there are over 200 episodes (including specials), there was also a big backlog. all this to say that there are transcripts, but i don't know if they are complete or very accurate.

apart from that, i will say that it is a little slow at the beginning, but if you give it a chance you may end up loving it :)

[flufflecat]

remembering the time that I listened to so much rusty quill gaming in such a short timeframe that my internal monologue was narrated by alexander j newall for like 2 weeks straight

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Thinking about the complexities of a "losing your magic" story in a DnD (and similar) scenerio because what it means completly depends of your class. Because while not everyone is born with magic, everyone can have it.

How for a sorcerer losing their magic is genuinally about losing a part of themselfs, to suddently not being able to do something they always did. Losing your magic is like sudently losing a limb or one of your senses. And how besides being always theirs, their magic is ancestral how it can mean losing a connection with a part of their family history.

How for paladins is about morals. About breaking their vows whatever they are, dealing with the fact that they changed or maybe that morals were always way more complicated than they thought they were. (The Oathbreaker subclass changes things but I think it can work if Oathbreaker is one of the ways to embrace the emotional conflict that took your magic). Is almost phylosofical. Is the what makes Thor worthy?

How for druids, clerics and warlocks are different levels of losing a connection. For druids is with nature, with a force beyond their comprehension but that became a part of you for so long and who are you without this feeling? For warlocks is so many things, is losing a boss, a friend, is the price of freedom, is the loss of whatever you had with the sentient being that gave you powers. And for clerics is a mix, is about if their gods are feelings like nature or beings that talk to them, but whatever it is, for clerics, for clerics is a lack of faith. Is about what happens when you doubt your god, when you can't belive it or in it. Is also about what happens when your god doesn't belive in you.

For bards and mages is the loss of a skill. The bards might have the loss of their playing or voice but even if not, even if is just the magic that is gone, well they, just like the mages, studied hard to be abble to do magic. If for a sorcerer is like losing a limb, for them is like waking up in the morning and noticing your accent changed or that you don't speak a language you once did anymore, is trying to ride the same bicycle you used to go to work everyday and noticing you just doesn't know how.

[goldenchocobo]

oh no. I rediscovered Blender and my love for animating.

[callmegaith]

Wouldn't it be pretty funny if I made a modern day AU of Rusty Lake where the lake is pretty much still the lake and the Eilanders are pretty much still a cult with Jakob and Aldous (totally not married old men husbands) owning a chain of businesses, mainly the hotel and the theater where Elizabeth and David work and perform. But when people start going missing, Dale has to invistigate.

Liz and David want to leave but are unable to, and everyone working under Jakob and Aldous is close so they never really rat them out.

And listen if I do this I'm just making Liz older I ain't drawing that lady of the lake design she got for Theater. I want my redhead goth back.

No resurrection or memory cubes or anything of that sort. Just your casual cultist sacrificing people to a sentient lake for power and immortality

[ducessaeva]

you were a king and his castle, I was every dirty rascal if you asked me for my lighter mate I gave you my fire I'd call as you climbed and I'd catch you every time you fell