#or at least learn the fucking history of it

[babyblankyerror]

On the Stanley hit man thing(please note 1: prices are at least semi accurate to the 70s and 2: I have no idea how hitmen work and there’s only so many google searches I’m willing to have in my history. Also the name of The Guy is a reference to an actual person who was related to an actual big US government fuck up):

Rubbing soap and water into well-worn gloves in some gas station bathroom in the middle of the night was, at this point, a new normal for Stanley. There were better ways to do this, he knew that, but patience and a horrifying amount of soap did the job just fine. Better than leaving the gloves on the ground where someone might stumble across them and realise there are small dried splatters on them.

The best way to get blood out of fabric was to wash it out quickly. Flood it with water, then scrub soap into it and try to wear through it with paper towel after paper towel until the water runs clear. It was a similar method to removing paint from a roller or shirt. That meant that Stan could just pretend he’d messed up on some project, for an art class or something. Or was messing around with his brother's paints. There was only so well that could work after years of the same routine, but it still worked so there was no reason to change it.

As he ran the gloves under the faucet again, the water flowed only carrying suds. No more damning pinkish hue. Now he just had to dry them, and that could be done back in the Stanley-Mobile.

First he’d have to leave the gas station. Then call the number given to him last week when he got the job and tell them it was done. He’d learn where to meet them to get the back half of his payment, then he could see how to split it. Enough to keep going went to him, a little bit went towards saving in case of an emergency, and the rest went to his dork of a brother.

The first step, out of all of them, was always the hardest. There are only so many ways you can hide sopping wet gloves, especially when it’s warm enough out that you can’t just wear a bulky jacket with inner pockets.

He folded them in half, longways, and put one in each of his pant pockets. It was as inconspicuous as he could get.

Stan hurried to the door of the bathroom, before opening it at a much more reasonable speed and meandered out of the gas station store. He took special care to walk in plain view on his way out. As much as he’d love to skirt around the edge of the store to keep out of view, that would only look suspicious and risk drawing attention.

As the store door closed behind him he let his shoulders drop slightly and fished his gloves out of his pocket as well as his keys. His car was parked right outside so there was no need to separate the actions.

Unlocking the door he sat down in the driver’s seat. He already had a small towel on the passenger side of the bench seats. He dropped the gloves on the towel before swinging his door shut, sticking his key in the ignition, and starting the engine. There was a pay phone a few blocks down, but having just left the store he should still move his car.

It was funny how despite about… three years, he wants to say, he still was always on edge after a job. It made sense, considering that the jobs he took consisted of killing people, but it was still a lot of time to adjust to it. At least the pay was good, and he had ways to get through the actual murder part.

Just line up the shot, and count to three. If you make it to three you might chicken out and fail, or if you aren’t sure of aim you might panic since they keep breathing after the shot. Not to mention you leave a distinctive trace of who’s done it with the bullet. But guns left less room for regret and letting them live than knives or fists. It helped that he pulled the trigger on two, before his mind could catch up to what he was doing. By the time he was weighing whether or not he should do it, he was already checking to see if any blood was on him. Usually just his hands if he got close, but on occasion a drop or two would land elsewhere on him.

Shoes he filed the treads off left no recognizable prints as he would walk away.

The drive to the pay phone was silent beyond the low rattling of the engine. Shifting gears and parking the car was so automatic that if he was asked if he’d done it or not he genuinely wouldn’t know the answer. He took a few coins out of the cup holder and a note from where it was tucked into his front visor.

The air had the everpresent heat of summer, only cut through by a slight wind. He vaguely wondered if it was similar weather where Ford was. Sure Indiana was northeast of Arkansas, but it couldn’t account for that great of a change in weather. Especially since there would be enough plants to keep the heat in at night as opposed to if Ford was in the desert out West. Ford should have been in the desert out West, or at least just near it. He’d driven through the west coast once, it went from desert to a small bit of forest by the coast.

He slotted a coin into the phone and punched in the numbers written on the little sheet of paper. It rang for a few moments before someone answered with a tired ‘hello’. Made sense, it was probably around midnight.

“Is this S Higgins?” Stanley asked, staring up at the sky. The town was big enough that the lights faded some of the stars out. Probably for the best, Ford always liked the stars and it was best to not think about Ford when on the call with a client. His voice got too soft, and when your voice gets soft suddenly everything is up for negotiation.

“It is. I take it, you've done it?” The voice on the other end of the line replies. Always with euphemisms and never saying what they asked for. They wanted someone dead and now they’re dead, and he’s the only one that has to face it.

“Yup. You can check; Kelly on York street- dead center of Warren.” Stan says. He knows they won’t check, but it’s always best to give the information so there’s never any doubt he’s done it. It’ll be in the headlines anyways, Warren doesn’t seem like a place where a double homicide goes unreported on. A lovey dovey couple who just so happened to know a few details problematic to an ongoing political career.

“Is Ray’s in Monticello in three days good for you?” Came from the phone, crackly and disconnected. Three days, enough time for news and an investigation to start. Also enough time to plan out where to go next. There were certain people who talked, and it was through that grapevine his name got spread around. Or more accurately his license plate and car’s description did, it was not exactly inconspicuous, and with that ways to contact him. He just had to go wherever people who knew people that might want someone dead were. So pretty much anywhere, but he’d been thinking about seeing New Orleans so maybe he’d head there. And if nothing came up he was certain to find something in Mobile.

“Around lunch?” He asked. The least suspicious time of day. You could openly talk about his work at lunch and it would be taken as a joke. Because it’s the middle of the day and no actual plots could ever take place in the middle of the day.

“See you then.” The words came out and were quickly followed by a clack and silence. He set the phone up and made his way back to the Stanley-Mobile.

Monticello was less than twenty miles away. He could get there and get a motel room that night. But Warren was a small town and the newcomer disappearing the night of two murders would put the cops on his tail, so he swung around and headed back towards the motel he’d gotten a room at here.

The fact he didn’t immediately collapse meant he must have been running on adrenaline, and so rather than fight it for sleep he got his things packed. He’d sleep in and leave at a reasonable time in the morning before heading to Monticello. That seemed ideal.

———

Over the next couple days the only notable occurrences were the headlines about what he’d done, and him visiting the Allen House. From murder to the suicide house tourist trap. Way to go him!

Stanley had to admit though, while the ‘hauntedness’ of the Allen House left something to be desired he enjoyed the fun romp. He could do it better if he wanted to, but that would mean getting a house which would probably require legal documents that were left back in the apartment on top of a pawn shop in Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. Or he could do it illegally, which was much more likely, but at this point too much of a hassle when his current gig worked just fine.

Noon was approaching though so he turned on the Stanley-Mobile and headed towards Ray’s.

The diner was somewhat cosy despite having a metal back wall that looked like that of a storage container. Probably the warm lighting, benches, and soft music playing from a radio on the counter. He grabbed a table by a window, staring out of it to wait.

After a few dozen minutes of nothing he decided to go ahead and order some fries and a burger, making sure it wasn’t enough he could reasonably eat. He got a to-go bag after picking at them for what he deemed a good amount of time.

It was maybe another half hour or a bit longer when he watched a slightly too-clean Pacer roll up. A man who looked like he’d just been told what ‘casual’ meant last night stepped out and headed towards the diner. That was, without a doubt, Higgins then.

When he walked in the door Stanley waved him over, calling his name with a slight cheer as the man came over.

“You did… the job.” Higgins muttered, pulling a chair opposite Stanley’s spot on a padded bench and shuffling to sit down.

“I did. It’s on the news if you need to check.” Stanley said, leaning back slightly.

“I… I already saw the news. I have the money.” Higgins said, pausing to hum and haw before continuing, “Three thousand, right? Here, in cash.” Higgins said, reaching into a pocket on the inside of his clearly not weather appropriate jacket. And right. Stanley really should remember to get checks and not cash. Checks were easy to hide, especially since he went about being a contract killer in the dumbest way. Instead of just getting in with one group and staying there with a consistent pay and a good public facing business set up for him, he traveled around and essentially worked commission. Granted he got his start making enemies, so maybe staying in one place wasn’t the best. Especially when he could then work for just about anyone he deemed not an immediate risk, instead of just one organization. No matter what though, he should get better about checks instead of cash. Too late now though. Stanley held his palm out and felt a small stack of hundred dollar bills hit his hand, with no small amount of worry. He clutched the bills and tilted his palm down, hiding them from any quick glances.

Stanley dropped the bills into the to go bag as he reached in, and pulled out a small container with the fries.

“I have extra if you want.” He said, opening the lid and turning them towards Higgins. The man seemed to writhe in his chair, face morphing into a performance of guilt. He was certainly new to this. Higgins got up with a rushed apology and excuse of having to get back home. Stanley watched him go and placed the fries back in the bag. Well, to the bank then. He should deposit the cash slowly, he knows this, but he’s fairly certain that the new semester is starting m at Backupsmore which means Ford will need to be spending his money on textbooks. Which means Stanley is going to be extra sure to pay for his tuition.

Stanley’s pretty sure he caught an article about Ford and some other guy proving something or other about the universe, and a few more campus newspapers mentioning the two of them spending time together. So his brother finally made a friend! He’d drive up and hug the nerd out of pride if he weren’t certain Ford wouldn’t be too willing to speak to him. He did figure though, that he had enough saved for an emergency that what he’d usually cut out of his pay for à ‘just in case’ could go to Ford’s friend instead. A brief line of phone books and library visits, as well as word of mouth, made it clear that the guy was also the first of his family to go to college. And was riding on a couple scholarships in order to just cover tuition, but probably still had to take out a loan or two. He wasn’t going to risk Ford’s friend having to drop out and leave him alone due to finances.

The face of the bank teller was of mild confusion when he went to deposit five hundred dollars. Just because he wasn’t waiting to deposit the money didn’t mean he was an idiot. He was just going to spend the day hopping between a few banks to do it in chunks. Stil suspicious on paper but he has a current guise of being ‘an artist’ so sudden large deposits because he ‘sold a painting’ at least didn’t get too many questions.

At the end of it all he ended up sending one thousand five hundred to Ford’s annual tuition, so he should be set for a while longer. Though the idiot of a genius was taking twelve different full courses and each individual course has its own lesser tuition so it wasn’t the full semester it would have been if his brother knew how to stop. Frankly that had been the main reason he’d stepped in, Ford probably could have managed the tuition for one or even two or three courses on his own but somewhere in his mind he’d decided that taking twelve was a good idea. Stanley’s sure Ford could have figured it out, but that’s his brother and he didn’t want Ford to have to figure it out.

He sent seven hundred to Ford's friends’ tuition after some double checking names, and so the apparent Fiddleford McGucket had one less thing to worry about.

That meant he had eight thousand remaining, he wouldn’t have to take another job for a while. A long while. Maybe he just goes to New Orleans as a vacation.

~~~~~~

Ford and Fiddleford were staring at the Backupsmore administrator. They’d gone to check up on what they had to pay for tuition, only to find out that not only had Ford’s gotten a significant amount paid(which was becoming an odd yet consistent occurrence) but Fiddleford’s as well.

The money had been wired in, which meant whoever sent it had a known bank account, but had apparently mandated anonymity. As far as the school administrators were aware, it could have been the king of England sending the money.

The walk back to their dorm was shared in stunned silence. It wasn’t until Ford was sitting on his bed that Fiddleford stopped pacing and stared out the window before gripping his hair and yelling, in the whisper yell mandates by shared walls, cried out.

“WHAT in the world is GOIN’ ON.”

Fiddleford turned to Ford, lowering his hands to gesture in confused annoyance.

“Well, we know whoever is sending this must have a lot of money on hand. And we have been covering a lot of neuroscience, and specifically how to alter brains- right? It’s probably some larger entity with stakes in our current research.” Ford posed, though his voice still tilted with unsureness.

“True, but you started getting the payments before the whole tie thing. So there must have been some sort of investment before then.” Fiddleford argued. Ford shrugged.

“I mean, I suppose the sheer number of courses I was taking may have been noteworthy?” He offered.

Fiddleford began to pace muttering to himself, before an idea seemed to strike him.

“Hey, if we can get into the school records and figure out what bank the money has been being wired from, maybe we can call them and ask for information?” Fiddleford suggested. Ford took a moment to think through the idea, before grinning and jumping up.

“Exactly! Even if we can’t get a name, we’ll still get a rough area and we can go through phone books until we find someone who has a ridiculous amount of disposable cash and a vested interest in both of us!” He exclaimed.

They were probably going to have to break into an office or something, hopefully childhood shenanigans with… his childhood shenanigans would help with that.

Bro you need to publish this on ao3 or post it on tumblr or SOMETHING because HOLY SHIT?!??!?!

THIS is exactly what I was imagining for the Au!!! This is fuckkng great!!! I LOVE LOVE THIS AND YOU AND AAAAAAAA

I imagine Fiddleford doesn't really worry about the random money Ford gets until HE starts getting it too. Then yeah he's freaking out because WHAT THE HECK??

I love this you wrote this so well, so nice and omg??? You did research??? That's more than I'd ever do XD

[alpaca-clouds]

"Why didn't I learn this in history class?"

Lemme talk about something a bit more serious today. Because ever since I started to ramble once more about historical context for Castlevania Nocturne I have gotten asked this one so often:

"Why did I not learn this in school?" Or: "Why did I not learn this in history class?"

And I shall tell you why: Because school sucks.

I do not mean this in some exaggerated way or hyperbolic way or anything. School sucks. And you do not go to school to learn anything useful, you go to school for two reasons: a) So that you are out of the hairs of your parents and they can be exploited at their work place. b) So that you learn to listen to authority from a young age on and get some basic skills that you will ideally be able to leverage for your own exploitation.

I am sorry for sounding so darn Marxist right now, but that it is it.

And here is the thing: Because the entire school system is build towards exploitation, nobody actually wants you to learn about actual history. It could give you ideas, and that would be very tragic, wouldn't it?

Depending on the country you live in, history class mainly is concerned with two things. Teach you a bit about the bad stuff, and then also get some nice patriotic propaganda into your head. The latter stuff is especially strong in the US. I mean, pretty much every kid learns some variation of the entire darn "thanksgiving" bullshit. I just will leave you with the Adam's Family Values scene about this.

I mean, this is especially noticable right now of course, where everyone is crying about kids maybe learning just a little bit of real history in school - and so many people trying to forbid it.

In Germany, our history class basically goes like this: We note everything that has happened until 1900 in about three hours, only doing a very, very rough overview, and then we will talk about the Weimar Republic, First World War, Third Reich and Second World War at nauseum. Which could be good, if we actually talked about how the Nazis came into power. But if you ever talk with any random German who has not studied history, you will notice that most of them are of the opinion that the Nazi party was not elected in the popular vote, and that at least 40% of all people in the Third Reich were in fact against Hitler. Both of those things are not true. Nazis were elected - and they used some trickery to stay in power - and more than 90% of Germans were in full support of Hitler.

And the French Revolution? Obviously you will not learn about that. It might give you ideas. You know. Ideas what to do with unelected people who rule your country. And if you learn about the French Revolution, you might see how there are certain parallels to modern times.

You see, those who do not learn from history, are fated to repeat it.

Which kinda brings me to the even more radical part of this. You know what you can do to really fucking annoy those in power? You can learn about history. And you can teach others about history.

They will often tell you, that history is not as important as STEM. And in some way, sure: History will not cure cancer, and it will only do so much to help with climate change. But... It will teach you about how to recognize tyranny. And how to fight it. And frankly, under tyranny you will most likely not get cured of the cancer, let alone climate change. So yeah, tyranny - and getting rid of it - is important.

And, how did a wise man once say?

[weepingalaxy]

i would like to hear your mossman essay... always looking to appreciate more women (especially the half life women. god bless alyx but i think she's the only one not relegated to an expansion or trapped by Misogynistic Writing)

TAKES A DEEP BREATH. anon youve opened the flood gates with this one i have so so so many thoughts about her. these may not make sense because english is my second language and i have probably some form of dyslexia But. i hope. itll make enough sense to offer something interesting to the table

so. judith mossman. aka the perfect example of learned helplessness and how it makes you look to the past

..i have no idea how to start this in a way that isnt kinda forced so youll have to bare with me okay.

i think the core of judith as a character can be summarized by those guys who look at something in history and say "if i was there i wouldn't have done that, rip to you but im different". there's been a misunderstanding about judith in that she "glorifies" the black mesa incident, when thats never what she does or what i understood alyx's comment about her as? see, judith doesn't say it to gordon in person, only talking about the science of teleportation with him (which i'll get into), it's alyx saying how judith has gone on and on about how it should've been her in the chamber that day.

that's not a "i wish i couldve been the one to cause the incident" or glorifying what the incident did or anything, that's a "if i was there it wouldn't have happened" as frivilous and ridiculous that is to imagine for us, the players, as people who saw what happened. but she didn't see it, all she knows is something happened in the test she applied for, and gordon's at the center of it

i believe judith resents gordon. not only because he took the position she wanted/applied to, but because she blames him for the incident happening in the first place. why else would she believe things would've been different if she was there? the way she talks to him is with this surprise and focus on what eli is going to feel about gordon's arrival, then talking about her own knowledge on the teleportation technology, it feels almost like... what would i call it. showing off? but not by saying "i" or "me", but by saying we. yes it's kleiner's technology, but imagine what they'd do if they knew what we've been doing with entanglement. she's the only one who talks to him about the technology like that, and it's like she's trying to prove she's as capable as him? i guess? especially when she still props up gordon's intelligence and says she's happy they get to work together. she wants to prove even more she could've been the one at the chamber but never saying it outright to his face.

and of course, this resentment is why it's easier for her to work with wallace breen to bring gordon to him. if you had a way to ensure the safety of the people you care about, and it'd require the capture of a man you believe was the catalyst for the end of the world, wouldn't you at least like... consider it?? not to mention the way she acts with breen is very... submissive, like maybe she's been with the combine for a specific reason that he can dangle over her head that makes her unable to go against him. the safety of eli, a way to live somewhat comfortably if her wearing a pristine off-white turtleneck is anything to go by, god knows what else.

augh. sorry my brain's losing steam but like. i need to at least mention: her going after the borealis after she breaks free from combine (and, most of all, breen) control is something i took as not just her trying to find something useful for the resistance, but also like... a way to apologize/make up for what she did? but without asking for forgiveness? she went to the fucking arctic to find one of the most valuable pieces of... tech? ... most valuable artifact? Important Ship, specifically so she can fix everything. and how will it fix things?

the borealis has weird temporal elements that lets you go back in time.

of course the woman who's focused so much on the past and the "what-if"s would go looking for something that would let her fix things in the past

[p-a-c-k]

"killing them won't stop violence!"

Yeah no shit Bethany

But it will stop them from making everyone they think as beneath them from suffering as a result and will save more lives than if we didn't

They don't give a fuck about if we live or die

So long as we all turn on each other

keep money in their pockets

and their little egos enlarged

Why should we care about them?

If you don't wanna be that radical fine

I get it

But don't condemn us that do

Because we're fucking angry and done

And we want to live in a world that's actually fucking learned something from literally every moment in history where we have lived this again

And again

And again

And again

And we have learned NOTHING

At least they haven't

And I'm tired

[dreamytfw]

Hello friends! This is what we call projection!!

[maeamian]

Becoming deeply radicalized against the idea of crewed Mars missions, y'know how the Rovers keep sending back better and better data what if instead of that we made an even bigger one and devoted nearly 90% of its capacity to holding a guy in a bubble on top of it instead of sending back useful data, but wait! They'll eliminate like a half hour of latency and also almost certainly contaminate the landing site and possibly the entire planet, so it's not all downside.

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

i shouldve been an art history major.........

[moghedien]

if you say that the Wheel of Time show is giving Legend of the Seeker/Sword of Truth vibes, I'm legally allowed to fight you in the streets

[remyfire]

Fucking nerd has had a very specific movement of a very specific symphony stuck in her head for days on end and it will not release her

[jouno-s]

i think maybe it’s a little telling that almost every person i’ve had the ‘are zoos/aquariums ethical?’ debate with doesn’t actually work in the industry or have any animal-specific education

[catsarehumanstoo]

what is this Mars thing

this Mars thing is also a timkon fic! it is set in the late 1920s and features kon as a former silent film child star trying to make the jump to both adult movie roles and talking pictures while also trying to work out who he is and where he comes from! also featuring tim as a surveyor for a map company (read: spy), who has a plane and a 35mm camera! i do have documents detailing exactly what camera and plane he has because i spent way too much time researching what was available then to lose that information!

it is not a no capes au but it is a low capes au - superman is very much around and kicking, but batman is not a thing bc bruce is busy doing other things (running a spy ring).

also featuring the various archaeological discoveries happening in the middle east and egypt bc tim's parents are archaeologists and i wanted to write about ur. sue me.

this one is on the backburner mainly bc as i worked out the plot i realised i needed to know more about contemporary middle eastern politics, and the more i looked into the history and politics of the region the more i realised there was more i needed to know. so it's on the backburner until i get a degree in 1920s middle eastern history and politics ig ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

snippet for you anyway!

"You'll be safe, won't you?" his mother said, stretching her hand up to clasp his, reaching out of the cockpit. "I've seen the terrible things that can happen when these airplanes crash." "Most of those crashes happened when there were other planes shooting at them, Mom," Tim said, smiling at her. "I'm just doing triangulation. No guns on this civilian craft." He patted the Redbird fondly. "How much does this job pay you, anyway?" Jack asked. "I can't say it's a career I expected you to go into." "It pays enough, Dad. And I get to keep the plane after five years' service." "Well, if you're sure. You know, it's not too late for me to write to Marin, see if he can get you a job in the company." "I don't want a job pushing paper for Drake Industries, Dad. I'm happy doing this." Jack nodded and shrugged. "Have a safe flight, kiddo."

[wifeiy]

sometimes (much too often in the past year and a half) ur 60 y.o catholic conservative pinoy father watches content/debates that is, from what u hear upstairs, akin to ben shapiro dunking on young liberal university students And u start to wonder if u could get a job right now and who would move out w u

[atracaelum]

This is just kvetching into the void but I periodically see posts on this here internet and website essentially trying to police the terms people use for their own art, ie "you can't call something a doodle if it looks finished (to me)" or "stop doing sketchbook flips that are finished pieces, it's supposed to be doodles and wips in a sketchbook!" and usually there's a reason given about these things setting an unrealistic standard either for other artists, or non-artists, and these irritate the piss out of me every time I fear.

Your 'finished piece' might BE someone's low effort doodle, that's just life sometimes! This is fine! It need not reflect on you!

Similarly, the sketchbook is the medium. Whether it's showcase of completed works or practice sketches is irrelevant. They are showing their sketchbook.

Much of this moaning is indirectly shot at people who are full-time artists, if not professionals, posting online. Are you under the impression their grasp of art terminology is just flat out wrong? Or is it just broader than you would like?

I can't take the fear of unrealistic expectations seriously, sorry. People are very ignorant, yes, but the cure is never a dumbing down of the topic, nor trying in vain to universalize it.

This all kind of wraps into how social media turns people sharing their art into this cut throat arms race, how divorced people become from means of actually learning their craft in that sort of environment, and the, to be blunt, sour grapes that grow from all of this. Sincerely, I just encourage people to worry less about other artists minding their business and focus more on personal growth. Maybe let yourself get inspired! And then we'll both win, because I will see less incessant whining out in the wild!

[clonerightsagenda]

vynofiron please update us if you find out

Last I heard they were wandering around the area looking for promising looking holes and might try dumping red dye into the street the next time it rains so I will certainly keep everyone posted on the slapstick routine that is my life

[lord-squiggletits]

I need to reread the comics again to have specific arguments/evidence for this, but like

I feel a bit like I could've been sympathetic to the way other Cybertronian colonies view Cybertron, if it weren't for the fact that at least several of them (as in, ones that get notable dialogue/screen time) are so low-key self-righteous?

Like, idk... there's a lot of criticism of Cybertronians because they're so "warlike" and how their obsession with violence and vengeance is just dragging the whole galaxy down with them, but uh. The Autobot-Decepticon war was basically a product of societal ills bubbling over for like 6 million years beforehand and then finally boiling over into a 4 million year war that lasted as long as it did because the people involved had immense social/psychological trauma from being "raised" in an oppressive society.

So when the colonists come in being all 'omg you people are so violent and uncivilized why don't you just like, stop fighting' it kind of pissed me off a little bit as a reader/person like. Idk the colonists really came into this society of people full of massive amounts of trauma where even before the war society was super oppressive and no one has any experience of living "normal" lives unaffected by violence and bigotry. And the colonists were like "ummm wow why don't you guys just??? stop fighting???." Like idk it wasn't EVERY SINGLE MOMENT, in fact I think that when it was played for laughs it's quite a funny "fridge horror" type element. It was just annoying because like.... IDK???? It's just really annoying to watch a bunch of people who lived relatively sheltered lives on their own planets come to a different planet full of traumatized people and be like "omg why are you people so fucked up" IDK BRO MAYBE BECAUSE THEIR SOCIETY WAS OPPRESSIVE AND THEY LIVED THROUGH A LIFELONG WAR???

It also doesn't help that the colonies were literally founded based on imperialism and conquest so like, it's fucking rich to hear colonists scolding Cybertronians for their violence ruining the whole galaxy while literally sitting on planets that their Primes colonized from others. The hypocrisy of this is briefly mentioned in Unicron (literally the FINAL STORY OF THE SERIES) but like, that's basically the only time Cybertronian characters are given a reprieve of sympathy from other characters in universe and it's so tiresome.

I've talked to other people who didn't like the colonists and thought they basically (narratively speaking) existed just to shit on the existing characters, and it's actually really easy for me to sympathize with/outright agree with that assessment of the story considering how much of exRID/OP seems to be preoccupied with "Cybertron/the Primes/Optimus sucks" with very few reprieves for anything positive happening and even fewer chances for characters to get to explain themselves and experience a little bit of justice? Like, as the audience, it's just very frustrating to see the characters you spent hundreds of issues keeping up with get shit on by a bunch of "literally-who"s and then not really get a chance to ever defend themselves, either by literally defending themselves in conversation or having some sort of narrative thing happening that vindicates them at least symbolically

[saccharinerose]

Wdym Neuvillette knows that he could achieve full dragonhood AND stop the prophecy + save the people of Fontaine if he, as the Dragon Sovereign of Water, had the authority over the element returned to him but bc, according to him, the Archon (aka Furina) would need to "disappear" for that, he's like nah we gotta find a different solution to the prophecy.