#maya feels like she’d love mobile gaming to me

[perrigoaway]

So have you ever heard of cookie run Kingdom cause there are these 2 cookies a defensive attorney and prosecutor and I'm wondering what you think or draw? What would happen if these cookies met phenox and miles Edgeworth

I have zero knowledge about this game, but I imagine it might be something Maya might play LOL

[cruddyborderlandstheories]

Punk Girl/Civil War Submission by The Wild West Pyro

Heyo, good morning/afternoon/evening/night

My friend on discord (The Wild West Pyro) had an absolutely mind-blowing theory concerning who the band ‘Punk’ Girl is, why she’s important to the story, and how she will lead to the rift in the Calypso Twins relationship. I don’t want to spoil anything for you guys, so I’m just going to dive right in.

(A majority of this will be directly from our conversation, with [some edits by me] to help with context and add in pictures.)

Here we go!

So we figured Punk Girl is in some way related to the CoV, or the cult in general, as she makes an appearance on what seems to be a cult-centric shirt on the gearboxloot instagram page (more credit to @ifalnasminiatures for providing me with this link!) 

“Well, there are [a few] ways this could go:

Punk is linked to the COV and is intended to spread their message even further with the typical subliminal brainwashing thing. So they can broadcast outside of the planets the Cult has a presence on.

It’s a sore subject between the Twins, but one they hide rather well. The girl is related to them, she’s just considered by one of them as “that disgrace who refused to reclaim the birthright and ran off to join a band instead, ugh.”

She’s a band that works for the Cult sometimes. But in fact, she’s the eyes and ears of the Alliance within the Cult. Best of all is that she’s directly related to the Twins. Secretly, she disapproves of what they’re doing, but she’s the Alliance’s best hope of what’s going on.”

[That last one is the one he goes over the most, and it’s super interesting.]

“The Twins never suspect that the spy was in fact the one closest to their hearts.”

[my response: It would explain why there are no other bosses on the MoM that we know of (excluding the twins bc those are guaranteed), because she’s never going to become a fight even tho she looks the part]

“Also, [regarding] the last bit of your post, it’s just asking for a sidequest where it’s revealed that all the Gen 3.0 VHs known how to play some sick bass.

Punk Girl: ‘Hey, my bass guy is sick, can you take over?’

Zane: ‘FECK YEAH’”

[We talk a bit here about a Scott Pilgrim-esque Battle of the Bands, with Mr. Torgue as the competition, so there’s a bit of a transition that’s missing.]

“Hey, you know how Athena encrypted her messages between Engorge commercials? Punk Girl cleverly hides her messages in her music or backmasking. That’s how she sends her info to the Vault Hunters.

The twins never suspect a thing, and when she finally reveals she’s been working for Lilith, they’re genuinely shocked- and then the rift develops. One sibling would want to protect the girl, the other would want to punish her. The twins seem extremely close, so I personally feel it’d be odd if one of them up and betrayed the other [without outside influence].

It would be a great twist, too. Jack always had something planned out to trip up the Vault Hunters. But Lilith has learned much within these seven years. It turns out, Lilith is far better at pulling the strings than we ever thought Tyreen was.

Also, when Punk Girl reveals that she’s a spy for the Alliance (likely mid-game), this happens:

Tyreen screaming “YOU BITCH” amongst other horrible things and ECHOing up Punk Girl to verbally abuse her for hours, which continues through the rest of the game.

Troy trying to gently persuade his youngest sister to “Please come back” and “I don’t want to kill you”, attempting to smooth-talk her back into supporting the Cult. He keeps on ECHOing her gift baskets.

The twins arguing with each other over the fate of Punk Girl. Which, if done right, could potentially lead to a civil war within the Cult…

And to think it was all over a nice girl in a cool band.

Of course, both Troy and Tyreen are trying to kill the Alliance still, they’re just now divided over the fate of the girl and who’s gonna get the power of the vaults.

Which would add a human layer to it all- in the end, it’s just two selfish children squabbling over some big, universe-shattering toys. Albeit with billions of lives ended in the crossfire.

The war predicted by the Watcher was terrible. Zarpedon said so as well.

And, honestly, nothing’s more brutal and vicious than a civil war several galaxies-wide.”

[It was at this point that I absolutely lost my shit (in a good way) bc goddamn bro]

“Ideally, Tyreen goes out of her way to harass, demean and try to ruin poor Punk Girl’s life, and the [Crimson Raider] Alliance have to help her stand emotionally as Punk Girl undergoes a truly horrible campaign of cyberbullying, physical assault, very violent death threats and actual attacks on her band members. Tyreen mobilizes all her loyal followers to just try to hurt Punk Girl on whatever way they can.

Troy is a little different. He’s supposed to represent the streamer who manipulates fans into giving him what he wants, or scams folks by pretending to be disabled or whatever. Or the handsome fellow who’s a total self-centered jackass on the inside, but charms many people’s hearts nonetheless. So he tries to subtly brainwash Punk Girl into returning over to the Cult, and sweet-talking her to try and get her back on his sides. He’s like the caring, warm big brother on the surface, but really he just wants a new loyal sibling at his side, someone he can control far more easily. Troy’s promises are extremely alluring, his followers appear to be proposing an alliance with the Raiders (which Lilith refuses at all costs) and it’s going to be difficult for Punk Girl to resist his brainwashing techniques and honeyed words.

Basically, protect Lilith’s most treasured and loyal agent, including asking out Atlas and maybe other friendly corporations for favors to protect Punk Girl and her bodyguards (the new VHs). Bonus points if Punk Girl really is a latent Siren or something, and her power has to be safeguarded.”

[So, we know the unknown Sirens (there are two atm) are, if we understand Siren powers correctly: 12 and 7 at the time of bl3. 

HOWEVER. It’s been stated by Danny Homan that there are multiple ways for someone to receive Siren powers: 

The most important part of this exchange is the idea that, in universe, somehow, existing people can become Sirens. Now, I am not sure if this is solely through other Siren powers (Tyreen), or Vault bullshitery, or if they just wake up one day with the tattoos, but according to Homan, it’s definitely possible. In fact, I would go so far as to say the writers are keeping things intentionally vague for this reason.

What I’m trying to reason here is that even if Punk Girl is older than 12 or 7 (odds are she is, if she’s in a band!), she could still be a Siren, just that she got her powers at a later age, like 11 or so, meaning she’d be about 23 or 18 in BL3, respectively]

“If Angel does return, and Punk Girl is going through utter hell thanks to the twins, Angel will be the finest confidant and greatest friend she’ll ever have. Angel went through similar treatment at the hands of Jack, and she’s not going to let another girl with wings get hurt again. 

I mean, most of Punk Girl’s story arc would be heartbreaking, as it really seems like the Twins have fully turned their wrath on her rather than Lilith and the Alliance. Luckily, the Vault Hunters are there to act as her shield. Like, whenever you pass her in the ship, your character can give a random line of encouragement in the really tough times she’s going through, or something like that. 

And if Punk Girl turns out to be the final Siren after all, Lilith, Angel, and Maya would all ensure that she’d never be hurt like they were in the past. 

As the abuse Punk Girl would be receiving is from her own blood relations, [it] would be far more painful for someone to experience.

Now, for how the corporations may get involved, they’ll probably just start by trying to exploit this new galactic-wide civil war (especially as it’s hinted that the Twins do mass brainwashing or something [in the] Psycho character guide), then throwing each others’ armies at their rivals in support of one Twin or another. Although I’d imagine that Atlas and maybe Jakobs would stay out of it. [In addition], the Hyperion analyst in Moze’s ECHO from Commander Lily has dialogue that implies that all the corporations are preparing in case a Second Corporate War breaks out, since the first one essentially made the BL universe what it is now.

There we go, we have the war set up, as entire populations turn on each other, having become psychos pledging undying loyalty to one of the Twins. It’s going to be a mess.

[To end] on a comical level:

Maya: (hugging both [Ava and Punk Girl]) I love my dumpster children.

[Also:]

Tyreen, with this red background and thrash metal playing in the background and “angry war face” makeup: HEY MY WHORE OF A LITTLE SISTER, YOU ARE A [insert hate speech from evil liverstreamer gremlin here].

Troy, in a fancy suit and in a warm armchair with a fireplace roaring behind him: Hello, little sister. You remember the time we played at the beach together? Well… [insert sentimental tale of sibling love and fun here that is really a thinly veiled plea to rejoin the Cult].

That’s it, that’s both their streams from that point on.”

[I don’t have much to add, to be honest. This was great.

I love the whole thing, all the way down to his characterization of everyone involved. I can totally see Tyreen being the loud, explosive one out of the two, with Troy being quieter, but far more manipulative. I think it would contrast nicely with their designs and what people might be expecting from them, especially with how Troy is the big one with his cybernetics and always scowling, and Tyreen is shorter, always smirking and looking like she’s in control. It’d be so funny to see those two roles reversed and I really, really hope that’s the plan. Especially after the reveal that Troy is the one with the braincell lmao.

The idea that this small incident could end up causing a huge, brutal war, not just between the twins, but the corporations as well, is great. We know the Watcher claims ‘war is coming’, and this would help explain what we should expect. It would be very interesting if we needed to pick a side of aid at the start of the fight (i do imagine this will be Troy if The Wild West Pyro’s characterization of the twins is true), then turn on that side once the other is eliminated.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I do!! Massive credit to The Wild West Pyro for literally all of it. It was a really fun read.]

[attractionjapan]

The Birth of Japan Game: Episode 1: The Love Hotel Kid

The Birth of Japan Game is a chronicle in ten parts, recounting the early years of Dorian Gray’s journey along the path. The narrative begins some time in 2006 and concludes in early 2012. Names have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent alike.

Momoka was late. I’d been waiting outside Shinjuku Station for fifteen minutes, and I had better things to do than waste time on a complete stranger: improve my Japanese; hit the gym with friends; go shopping for new clothes with Maya, my girlfriend. I didn’t owe Momoka – who I could barely remember – anything, and I glanced down at the time on my mobile phone and considered going home.

Two weeks ago I’d been walking back from a night out with my friends, the other foreign exchange students at the university I attended in Tokyo. We were a hard-partying bunch of Europeans, Americans, and Australians like myself, and we spent almost every night out in one of the city’s numerous bars and izakayas: combination eating and drinking establishments with dim lighting and traditional decor. Textbooks and lectures were passed over in favor of watching Japanese television and making friends with the locals, some of whom had excellent drug connections. On this particular night I started talking to a young girl and the young man who seemed to be her boyfriend as we passed them on the street. I was known for approaching strangers while drunk, a trait that had gotten me in trouble over the years. But this time the girl immediately stopped and stared at me with rapt attention.

“Where are you going now?” I asked her in Japanese.

“Karaoke.”

“What are you going to sing?”

“Björk.”

The young man next to her made no effort to interfere, and I ignored him completely.

“Really? I like Björk too, favorite album is Homogenic.”

“You know Björk? Not many Japanese do,” she said.

“Yeah, like I said I have all her albums. We should go to karaoke together and sing some time.”

We exchanged numbers, and then my friends dragged me away. By the next day I’d forgotten all about the girl who had tapped her name into my phone as Momoka. When she called me a week later, it took me a few moments to remember who she was.

“When are we going to karaoke?” she asked, a bit petulantly.

“Um, what?”

I was cooking spaghetti in the shared kitchen of the student dorm where I lived, and a drama was playing on the television.

“I was waiting for you to call me.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I’ve been busy with my girlfriend.”

“When can we meet?”

“I don’t know, on the weekend? Saturday night?”

I agreed to meet her in Shinjuku, one of Tokyo’s busiest stations, and not far from my university. I couldn’t remember what she looked like and didn’t plan to stay long; I was going clubbing with friends later. Simply put, I didn’t trust my drunken judgment. Momoka would probably be unattractive, boring, or both. I vaguely remembered the Björk conversation, but in my admittedly limited experience, the hottest Japanese girls didn’t listen to experimental electronic dance music, they listened to J-pop and mainstream R&B.

Standing outside with a cigarette in hand, I looked towards the station and watched the hordes of people streaming from the entrance. Mixed in with the salarymen and tourists were countless beautiful girls: university students with dyed brown hair and miniskirts, office ladies in smart form-fitting suits, hostesses with elaborately-styled hair and ornate nail art. I watched them wistfully, wondering how I could get them into my life. Pursuing girls wasn’t my main reason for being in Japan, but I couldn’t deny that it was always at the back of my mind.

Suddenly one of them caught my eye and I stared at her longingly. What would I have to do to meet someone like her? There were lots of young women in my social circle, but none so beautiful and stylish. Girls like her were out of my reality.

Wait. Now she was looking back at me.

I smiled and expected her to look away, but she held my gaze, her expression demure yet intense as she cut through the crowd. Whoever she was here to meet was a lucky man. I expected him to appear soon, doubtless a rough and heavily-muscled Japanese youth in sunglasses, or one of the effete model types crowding the pages of the fashion magazines. All we would have would be this shared smile, and then she’d be gone forever.

Then she walked straight towards me and spoke my name.

Wait.

This was Momoka?

The same girl I’d forgotten ten minutes after meeting? Whose phone call I’d almost ignored?

I was now looking at a girl like a love goddess from a teenager’s fevered dream. Taller than the other girls and even men walking past her, with a model’s posture and penetrating eyes. Long silky hair, perfect baby doll lips and a captivating, heart-shaped face. Strong yet slender legs gripped by ripped thigh-high fishnets. Generous breasts displayed by a revealing top, and a mind-blowing ass brought into relief by a black miniskirt and the pressure of her ultra-high heels. Her fashion was high-end glamour with a hint of gothic punk, all black lace and coordinated rips. She was eighteen years old, still in her last year of high school, as I would later learn, and already a world-class stunner.

Had I really been so drunk that I’d forgotten this?

All my dismissive cool deserted me. Disarmed by her beauty, I suddenly had no idea what to do. I couldn’t take her to McDonald’s or some cheap noodle house, could I? A girl like this would have expectations, would be used to classy bars and expensive restaurants. But my student budget was already stretched to the limit by Tokyo’s cost of living, and even if I could afford places like that, I didn’t know where to find them. I’d been in Tokyo for six months, but my knowledge of its more upscale night life was pitifully limited.

But Momoka knew exactly where to go. She’d already eaten, she explained, so there was no need to look for a restaurant; why not go straight for drinks? I was hungry, though, so we went to Sukiya, a cheap chain restaurant, where I wolfed down a beef rice bowl. Then, taking my arm, she led me to Don Quijote – often abbreviated as Donki, an all-purpose store selling everything from cosmetics and costumes to electronic goods and cheap souvenirs. On its bottom floor we found the liquor section, where Momoka selected a tall bottle of vodka.

“You buy it,” she told me. “I’m underage.”

Vodka in hand, we headed to karaoke and booked a room for two hours. We ordered drinks – brought up one of the uniformed staff – and liberally topped them up with the bottle we’d smuggled in in Momoka’s handbag. I’d only been to karaoke a few times before and was impressed by the choice of songs; along with the comprehensive library of J-pop were tracks by all kinds of Western artists, even obscure alternative and indie bands. I’d always been obsessed with music, and now I let loose with an array of favorites from my teenage years, many of them mopey dirges and anguished songs of despair. The Smiths? The Cure? Joy Division? Not exactly an ideal date soundtrack, but Momoka seemed to like it and even recognized the bands. And true to her word, she knew every line of every song by Björk, her voice nearly a match for her idol’s. I was in love already, but so caught up in singing that I barely noticed the rapidly-emptying bottle of vodka, and didn’t think to make a move either. Before long an hour had passed, and Momoka was leaning against me, so close that our faces almost touched.

Then she leaned over and shyly kissed me on the cheek.

It was on. I threw my arm around her and kissed her deeply, my hands exploring the rips in her clothes and the sexy curves of her body. She kissed back with equal fervor, darting her tongue into my mouth and gently biting my neck. Soon I lifted her on top of me and buried my face in her breasts. Things progressed quickly and before long her panties were off, my hands sliding them smoothly from under her skirt. I unzipped my jeans and laid her down on the vinyl seating, stopping only to throw on an ancient condom from my wallet.

From my current perspective of nearly ten years later, sex in karaoke seems normal, but at the time I was terrified. What if one of the staff walked by? And what about security cameras? I couldn’t see any, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Even so, I entered Momoka and gripped her tightly, feeling that I’d somehow slipped into Heaven. Her long legs wrapped around me as I gazed into her eyes and tried to hold out as long as I could.

“Hoteru iku?” she whispered in my ear afterwards: “Can we find a love hotel?”

For those who’ve missed the countless sensational books and films about Japan, love hotels are full of rooms used by adulterous lovers, young couples who still live with their parents, and anyone else without a ready trysting location. The decor ranges from functional motel-style units to elaborate fantasy themed rooms: jungles, castles, and honeymoon-style suites with kitschy pink sheets. They’re usually found in the city’s seedier districts, such as the back alleys of Shinjuku’s Kabukicho where we were now. After leaving karaoke we continued down the street and saw scores of other couples on the same mission, scanning the numerous hotels for any vacancies. I noticed a few young men turning away from their girlfriends and glancing at us, lingering on Momoka as if to say, “With a foreigner? Really?” I couldn’t believe it myself.

At peak times – weekends and holidays are the worst – love hotels fill up quickly, and it’s not uncommon to find yourself wandering around for ages, searching in vain for an available room. Fortunately, Momoka and I managed to secure one in the third hotel we checked. It was small and overpriced – more than my weekly food budget – but I didn’t care. We drunkenly stumbled inside, still holding hands, and before long our clothes were strewn across the floor. Now we were free to enjoy each other more slowly, without the threat of interruption, and we took full advantage of it. Momoka’s stunning naked body enthralled me, and after kissing every part of her I went straight for the condoms which had been kindly left in the room. Unfortunately, like most Japanese condoms not labelled Extra Large, they were painfully tight, so much so that I finally gave up on them and resorted to the pull-out method. After a few passionate rounds we fell asleep in each other’s arms. Or more accurately, Momoka fell asleep a few minutes before me, so that the last thing I heard as I drifted off was the sound of her soft snoring.

I’ve always felt there’s something captivating about a beautiful girl who snores.

The next morning I woke up with a hangover, still unable to believe the previous night had happened. My phone was full of messages from my friends wondering why I hadn’t shown up for clubbing. Momoka had to get up and prepare for her part-time job at a convenience store, so after a quick shower we threw on our clothes and left the hotel. We took the same train line back, and on the ride Momoka showed me photos on her phone, many of them with her in her high school uniform, her bare legs gleaming in the sunlight.

“Mata au?” she asked: “Will I see you again?”

I smiled like a moron.

The post The Birth of Japan Game: Episode 1: The Love Hotel Kid appeared first on Attraction Japan.

from Attraction Japan http://attractionjapan.com/birth-japan-game-episode-1-love-hotel-kid/