#mad dog lisa

[0verseer-o9]

Happy Lisamas

[basofy]

now that the @lisadigitalzine account made the announcement i'm gonna post my submissions!! this time i was given the opportunity to make the cover for the credits which was really nice :) i loved making these! pls check the rest of the zine!!

[scarylarry376]

RISE RAPH X MONA !!!!! look me in the eyes and tell me Raph would make the first move. you can't.

First one is what Raph thinks of himself 😨💗

[lisa-the-stupidful]

I do drawing

In a drawing

In a drawing

[pyreball]

All the LISA companions with their favorite foods!

[umbralundertaker]

Because I havent stopped thinking about it ever since I saw it. I want to talk about a detail at the end of Mad Dogs campfire cutscene

Brads statuses make enough sense. But Mad Dog... why is he blind? From my understanding, the whole point of his character is that he is very, very aware.

Mad Dog is distinguished by the fact that he is fully cognizant and understanding of the abuse he is causing and the abuse that his father did unto him.

Marty, Mr Angoneli, Brad's grandfather, Brad himself... Out of all these abusive fathers, Mad Dog is the most fully and completely awake. He knows the full effects of child abuse and trauma and the vicious hellacious cycle of hate; knows how deeply they affect someone and how fully they ruin their lives and families.

Brad's grandfather knows as well, but he sought to cause that pain and expected it to become something positive. Something that could be constructive, that builds character, that teaches you how to defend yourself, that tells you to be greatful, that prepares you for the harsh life ahead. To people like him, it's a lesson to be learned.

Yes, some men either dont care or are unaware of the effects of their abuse. But some fathers value their offspring, their progeny, their blood, so much so that they wish to mold these children into their own image. Brad's grandfather and some of the others believed that, despite how awful this abuse was, there was some positives to be made out of it. Strong men create good times, right?

Mad Dog knows that's not true. He knows it just causes hate and selfishness to broil and stew and magnify in new and increasingly twisted ways each generation.

His conversation shows that he's not blind to the effects of abuse and toxic masculinity. He looks it right in the eye. He's not ignorant or uncaring of how horrific what he's doing is. In fact, he is the only one that can fully see.

Its so odd!!! Why is he blind!!! I know its such a small detail but it nags at me every time i read the transcript (which is often).

[rainissance]

drawpile stuff

[sporbb]

Art of Mad Dog, Beastborn and Olan Hoyt from Lisa due to them being my party members for most of my playthrough of the definitive edition

[deoster]

LISER LISER I LOVE LISER

[lisarpgheadcanons]

Mad Dog is the best wrestler (despite the 3 actual wrestlers in the party)

.

[brooklynislandgirl]

@ronmanmob  {{xx}}

From the outside in, there might be more Horlicks nights than might be seemly. Some might argue that there are made up reasons for the too-long wakefulness, that they are cheating themselves out of sleep. Those people are only looking in from outside, are utterly myopic. They do not live with the every day reasons why she or Ron cannot find rest, when the mind is a buzzing hive of grief or anxious energy or a half a dozen other things. And sometimes, sitting round the table in robes and pyjamas, or sometimes just tee-shirts and boxers ~Ron's all the way around and sometimes she thinks she sees a sparkle once in a while in his eyes when she dons them~ or whatever makes them feel comfortable in terms of temperature and textures are concerned. Despite neither of them ever needing to lift a finger in their life, capable of hiring a staff that would befit the estates of royals, Ron and Beth are not the kind of people to take advantage of their situation. He opens the pub daily baring his poorly days or the odd wild hare that has him taking her away from the city, or out with his brother, attending to their other affairs. Those last times are the ones that she is usually keen to stay at home. It isn't that she doesn't enjoy some of the Kray Brothers' fine establishments, but the less time she spends around Reg the better. So after the forty-eight hour week she's put into the hospital and twice that put into the pubs and clubs, this is their moment. Their chance to check in with one another and reconnect. She isn't ashamed to admit she needs that. That she needs Ron. He is the force that keeps her grounded and holds her aloft. She hopes that it is the same for him. She doesn't mind those moments where instead of words he offers her what they call wingdings: nonsequitors, starts and stops, hand gestures and verbiage with no actual shape and purpose. Those are the things she loves more than she can tell him and she doesn't know why it should be so. Maybe it feels a little like a verbal kiss. An embrace she can lose herself in and gives her a chance to catch up with all that is said around it. She sits across from him, one sock-covered foot braced on either side of his own, a compromise she makes with herself when she'd much rather have them in his lap, head tilted affectionately. She doesn't see the dark depths of his gaze but rather watches his mouth as is her wont. She grins when he refreshes himself with his drink. Hers is mostly pulling double duty by warming her fingers as she keeps them wrapped around the cup. She isn't really prepared for his confession though she could, if asked by anyone else, tell them somewhat the same. The walls that may exist between them are so thin as to be made of glass. In ways she cannot explain to anyone who doesn't struggle within the world like she and Ron do. She knows that in many ways he has it worse off when strictly speaking of symptoms, emotionally they often fight similar but separate battles. But if Ron could be seen as a tank, unmistakeable in shape or form when the struggle became words, then Beth is a master spy. Most of the time she can pass for perfectly typical, perfectly normal as long as all she needs to do is look pretty and laugh at the appropriate time. And yet, they seem to understand one another better than any one else, he doesn't lie. There isn't the same exhaustion that could be heard in her brother's repeated pleading and nor the frigidity that comes from Reg's distance. His want for Ron to be the way he was before, an impossible and terribly painful dream. There isn't fear. Beth knows that is the name of one of his demons. He tells her of the way his mum and aunties were before. The double loss of Rose and his diagnosis has left a trench between his family and himself. Reg thrives on the terror a flat affect can have on those uninitiated. Ron's broad shoulders and his stocky frame paired with that less than strictly focused mien, the whispers of immense violence turns into something else. Something she's seen with her own eyes that Reg often weaponizes, without realising that it has a second and more insidious effect; it dehumanises his brother, turns the bright and beautiful soul she knows who loves dogs and has the softest spot for children into a unfeeling thing. Paints Ron with the brush the rest of the world already sees as justifiable. Does more damage than the disease, and feeds the phobia of every one who has to wear that diagnosis as a sort of scarlet letter. It's disgusting, and nothing about Ron's twin makes her want to flay him to the bone for it. What she doesn't understand is the why. Violet is far kinder in many ways than the Admiral. But Beth isn't blind. She sees the way Reg is doted on with love and respect, with a certain kind of admiration. As if the way he treats his wife ~like rubbish best left on the curb for the trash-men to come collect at best, and at worst...she's absolutely certain he's threatened to lay hands on the woman who is almost as small as Beth and a lot less confident~ but it is vastly different than the way she is with her youngest. Ron is coddled, yes. But aimlessly. She doesn't get quite as close. There are layers of worry in her eyes, anxious lines around her mouth and eyes when she tries to hold conversations with him. That arms-length wears on Ron until he starts to fray. She might argue with him on Pat. Big Pat Connolly is a dear man, gentle giant, a stalwart friend and champion of Ron's and she knows without a doubt or a problem with it that the man's the keeper of more secrets than she can imagine. The same could be said about Jayden Morgan, her own best friend. There might be things between them that she and Ron have forgotten, or missed details of, a hundred innumerable moments. She doesn't mind that. Ron needs a brother the same way she needs a sister, and their friends are hanai siblings. His next truth is one that hurts. She can empathise with this sliver of his inner-self. She's been honest with him about her own frailties, has built on its back some of their support of one another but she doesn't and more importantly won't speak of her own experiences. The thin faint scars along her forearms. The reason why sparks and lightning scare her into burying her face in his arm or back or chest. She has lied too, to her doctors, and only half confides in her therapist. She doesn't trust a single one of them to not be on the Admiral's payroll. Waiting to throw her under the bus for the slightest thing. She doesn't have words but nods as he speaks, reaching out and laying her hand on the table between them should he want the contact. But her heart breaks the way he says that softly. In that tone, which isn't really one, though the attendant gestures and glances do provide depth and shades, she sees a side of Ron she isn't used to. The longing for his most loved relative. Being separated unto eternity. When all your world hinged on someone and then...they were no longer there. She would give anything for one more minute with her brother. To hear his voice even if he was nagging, to hear his laugh deep and full-throated. To feel his arms around her while she dug a space for herself in his chest. Worse, she'd actually tried. Something Ron doesn't need to know. "I don' t'ink ya mad," she says finally. Of course she doesn't. "Wheddah part of ya illness or mebbe some consideration from source of all goodness...I'm glad she come an' see ya. Dat you get ya moments wi' her." She won't say she's envious, she doesn't honestly feel that way nor is she sure she could pay the exacting price that Ron does for every single moment he gains to his benefit. It would be more than disengenious for her to say so. But something that hits her hard enough to nearly steal her breath is how he talks of the changes in abstract. How that makes so much sense and provides her with the words she'd never been able to find to express how it feels, deep down. Doors between him and the universe opening. Beth has never heard silence. From time immemorial everything has been loud and she's heard every sound that isn't there, all the ones that are magnified to a point that she cannot make sense of words, of her own thoughts some times until they become too dark and too bitter inside of her head. To the point she doesn't even want to be part of that infinite chorus any longer. She squirrels the words away unil such a time when wintery deprivation make them needed. "Jus' because someone who love ya is gone from wha' mos' people can see an' hear, taste an' touch, don't mean..." Her turn to shrug, knowing he can most likely fill in the space. Her eyes sweep the rims of her lower lids and the hand on the table comes up to the side of her nose. Knuckle brushes the tip once, twice. "Mebbe...mebbe she one of ya beddah angels now, yeah?"

[0verseer-o9]

If the party members found out about Yado:

[basofy]

doodles i drew for fathers day or smthn

[aideshou]

followed by “you wanna see my box?”

[desire-mona]

u rbed this last night but i wanted to be sober to respond cuz i dont want u thinking im mad at u or anything like that

i do agree that liking things and marketing them as part of your being "just a girl" is kinda really dumb. i do think the general "look at how crazy and fucked up i think and post and bc im a girl!!" thing is kinda redundant and playing into harmful stereotypes is Not Great but its not smthn im gonna make a big stink about.

re: edblr, i knew that was gonna happen from the getgo bc as soon as the love for ldr and "girlhood" and shit like that came back full swing, so did the importance behind being skinny. i still remember lana herself losing weight and there being a whole thing about ozempic or whatever. thats not something ive seen a fuck ton of (bc i block tags about restrictive eating for obv reasons) but i did know those two communities had a big overlap.

re: gatekeeping, lets maybe not say that its important to gatekeep things from these ppl. 1) i dont like gatekeeping things anyway, puts a sour taste in my mouth. and 2) maybe we SHOULD let girls who say their whole shtick is how much theyre suffering mentally enjoy something that makes them happy. even if they dont specifically have bpd, i do think we shouldnt say that people are lying and are completely fine when they say theyre having a rough time mentally. speaking hyperbolically ofc i know thats not exactly what ur doing.

(big red sign that says this user does not approve of romanticising mentall illness and that labelling bpd as this glamorous thing to be sought after isnt great)

the main reason i asked was to get the answer u provided in tags:

which was very helpful. glad we're turning being a girl into stereotype-y suffering personified again good job girlbloggers

i promise im not trying to be a hater but truly what the fuck does girlblogging even mean

[pyreball]

hello pyreee, this is silly but since you like character design, i was wondering if you knew about the fact that we can see the body of mad dog's son in game? in a cave where you find his original club, although it's not a unique sprite but a reused one(i think), so i was wondering if you would want to make your own take on mad dog jr? and what do you imagine he was like??

I have thought about him sometimes and what he would look like so thank you for the motivation!

I've always imagined he was a big boy, extra strong, but always being pushed further by his father who didn't see his son's raw strength as being enough. Even after all the training, Mad Dog would still call him soft and one day Jr. had enough and told his father he could beat him in a fight right then and there. The end result of that being where you get Mad Dog's spiked bat from...

Since he was born he'd been forcibly molded into who "The Dog Cycle" told him he needed to be and with that he lost any unique personality he could've had. MDJR came off as a tough guy who rarely spoke, just like his father. He had the personality he thought he was supposed to have. Very loyal and strong although he lacked the domineering traits MD wanted him to have and as such saw him as soft. Who knows what he would've been like had he not been influenced so heavily by his father.