#probably is an operative word
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maxoscar ficlet HELLO?!
snippet? haha well you never asked, but here is a snippet!
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"When was the last time you let loose a little?" Max asks. "Chasing the Championship is very fun. But."
Oscar knows the but. He's missed out on a lot of the partying and uninhibited nights out offered to most young people his age. Not that he hasn't partied, but Prema-videoed Christmas parties didn't really count. Nor did trailing behind Lando as they listened to Martin Garrix's EDM set while responsibly nursing their low alcohol beer, or whatever.
Oscar shoves his hands in his pockets, and stands straighter. "What do you propose?"
And Oscar does not miss the way Max's mouth flicks down to his mouth, then up again.
Max’s eyebrows shoot up. Oscar wants to get on his knees, prove something, wipe the smile right off his face.
“It’s just a kiss, mate." Max says. "Not a marriage proposal.”
#maxoscar#verstapstri#max verstappen x oscar piastri#mv33#op81#wiz.wips#wiz.askbox#in which i noodled with this overall thing for about half an hour and should probably finish it?#probably is an operative word
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i will never get over how FusionFall put those two together to be in a tutorial introduction, because they were both 'cool kids' of that era, but objectively Ben10 is a dorky overly dramatic cool kinda vibe while Numbuh 5 is just the coolest kid on the block but is chill about it vibe. they would indeed make a fun battle team-up
also why tf Ben just fistfights his way out of his battles when his watch aint working, use a bazooka or smth dude smh
#fusionfall#cartoon network#ben 10#codename: kids next door#ben tennyson#numbuh 5#abby lincoln#numbuh five#knd#codename knd#ben 10 alien force#ben 10 ultimate alien#ben 10 omniverse#is that an outfit redesign u see? yes. yes it is. im just having fun after remembering my delight for this game#now im brimming with ideas for outfits for my fav characters of this game#man if only i finished it in time for ff anniversary. that would have been cool lol. but i didnt even know it was anniversary! ;(#also just in case ITS NOT A SHIP its A FRIENDSHIP!!!! born on a battlefield for their world because they were thrown into a fight together#or more like ben is intimidated by this much younger than him knd agent because she is cooler than him and tries desperately to prove that#he is just as cool and abby is like: u might have saved universe several times and probably would have made a great knd operative but u#r such a dork mr ben 10. in other words ben wont survive the burns because abby would see through him in a second
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New Age AU (The Camp)
Hello and welcome back to another New Age drabble! As always, fuck it we ball, no editing or rereading! This one is fresh off the press!
And!! Hello to @ancha-aus @papiliovolens and @mutzelputz ! Hope y'all enjoy!
Things had been looking up.
Now, the bar for what was 'better' was set pretty low, but this time, right now, managed to reach it.
Shortly after the collapse of his former kingdom, Cross had known there was no way he could ever show his face there again. His closest friends were dead, his brother was trying to rebuild things from the ground up, and his presence would only hinder them. If he, the king's loyal dog, stayed? It'd cause he'll to break loose.
So he left. Alone. In the night. Nowhere to go but anywhere better than there.
He walked.
And walked, and walked, and walked, until he came across a town where he could find a place to sleep, a spot to eat, and to find out what the hell he'd do next.
He had almost hoped that no one would recognize him in the neighboring kingdom. That he'd get off scot-free, but they knew. He was too focused, too quick to draw his blade, too alert.
He unsettled the patrons at the inn, he was too efficient for the dock work, and the shops wouldn't have him keeping his sword on his hip. He refused to be without it.
And so within a few months he'd exhausted his resources and had to move on.
But. Just before he boarded the ship that would set sail for some new dock, he had been rushed into by a wirey, tiny skeleton. Knocked clean off his feet and almost directly into the lapping sea below the docks.
Cross was not easily placed off-balance. The skeleton was stronger than he looked.
And he looked... really nice.
Cross, as he stood his ground, found that the skeleton paused to stare at him. Big, colorful eyelight filled crescent sockets which squinted in delight. A big smile reached the corners of his eyes, and a huge smudge of some darkness patterned his cheek, breaking up the pure while bone of his skull.
Cross hadn't seen another skeleton monster in ages, aside from his brother. Especially not one with as much expression as this one. Dressed head to toe in colorful fabric sashes and pouches and bags, every one with a new vibrant color. It must've been expensive to-
And then he'd spotted that this ethereal skeleton had a familiar pouch in-hand. A pouch with a hand-embroidered "X" on it. His coin purse.
The moment he'd seen it, it seemed the skeleton had noticed, because he practically rocketed off the dock. Cross had followed without a thought. That was his pouch! One if the few things that were ever his. He needed that back, boat be damned.
And so Cross had chased this mysterious skeleton all about town, not losing his track for long when the other managed to slip away.
It felt like the worst game of cat and mouse he'd ever been a part of. But, it was somewhere outside if town that the skeleton led him to. He wasn't even out of breath when he came to the clearing just off the path. The skeleton had been out of his sight for twenty minutes, but his transportation magic was pungent. Cross knew exactly where he'd gone.
And he'd found him.
Grabbed him by one of his scarves abd snatched his pouch back. It was empty, but that was fine. Most of his gold was inside his armor anyhow.
But before he left, the skeleton had laughed. Had said he was impressed he'd been followed. Wondered what he was doing setting sail on that dingey of a ship before. Cross hadn't intended to sit down, he hadn't wanted to. After all, this guy had stolen from him.
Yet, the skeleton mentioned he might have work for a soldier like Cross. Paying work. Work that would have him moving about. Away from whatever he was running from.
And Cross had sat. And asked about the work. And Ink had introduced himself.
Ink was an assassin for hire, something which had made Cross grimace and almost leave once more, but Ink swore Cross wouldn't be expected to kill anyone. Just... make sure no one killed Ink while he was moving from job to job. A bodyguard of sorts, just until his name was off the radar again.
He promised gold, and food, and respect. People knew him everywhere he went, a sort of folk hero (though that wasn't what he'd said) and so Cross wouldn't be as judged for his past.
It had been an easy sell. Scam or not.
Cross had some things to get used to. The first being that Ink had no soul. He hadn't noticed it because the other was draped in magical items, but Ink was entirely soulless. Along with that, he had an awful memory.
To work around it, Cross had taken one of Ink's scarves to replace his bandana that was destroyed in a fight. The familiar item seemed to keep Ink from getting spooked by Cross. It was almost familiar to Cross, how to Ink he was no different than one if Ink's other cloth-wrapped belongings.
And it was two years, traveling with Ink. Helping him keep on track for his kills, keeping folks from trying to ambush him. Fighting local city guards attempting to arrest them.
It was a life on the run, but it was better than being dogged in his own hometown, missing his friends and family. Some shadow of a fallen king.
But, now, things were looking up.
Ink had said he was going to be going dark for a bit. To help an old friend. One who Cross might like.
One who was setting up a rebellion against the evil tyrant who'd taken over his home kingdom in order to defend his peoples. A righteous warrior.
Cross had to admit, the closer they drew towards the encampment, the more excited he became. He wasn't able to help in the last coup he lived through. Maybe he could be of help during this one.
.
.
The chattering and happy voices weren't what Cross had expected upon finally reaching the end of the game trail. Ink had insisted there was no main road to the encampment, and that they had to use the secret entrance, which consisted of a thin trail that wove between all sorts of flora and snagged at his fraying uniform.
When they'd emerged, Cross had certainly not expected to find himself standing before a beautiful flower garden.
It was a landscaped space reminiscent of the gardens back at the palace. It was smaller, obviously, with less variety, but the first step onto the rocky path which led towards the back of a meager cottage made his heart skip a beat.
The colors were to plentiful, and a butterfly flitted past him in a way that completely had him enamored. It was thanks to muscle memory that he didn't freeze up completely to admire the flawless plants in more detail.
Instead, he soon found himself up a set of wooden steps, just behind Ink, hand on his swords hilt in preparation.
Ink knocked on the door.
It sounded thin, and Cross wondered just how old this building was. Colorful curtains drawn over the windows gave an impression of a fresh life to a building which clearly was on its last leg. The ground creaked under the slightest shift of weight.
The door swung open.
His focus was entirely absorbed by the person on the other side of the door. Another skeleton.
Of course, Ink was shorter than Cross, but this new skeleton was shorter than Ink. He had bright blue eyelights and was wearing what Cross could only recognize as training armor. Old iron scraped up in battle and worn more casually when a soldier was among allies. It was adorned in shades of blue and yellow heavy fabric, and Cross was a little amazed that the little guy wasn't dying in the summer heat right about now.
"Oh, Ink!" The skeleton inside greeted. "You're... actually right on schedule! That's unheard of for you." He seemed to look over his shoulder a moment.
Cross followed his gaze, catching a slight view into the inner portion of the cottage. It seemed warm, and decorated, and homey. Too messy for his tastes just at a glance, but he had to imagine it was cozy for those who lived inside.
"You can thank Cross for that one. He's been keeping me on-schedule for..." Ink trailed off at that, reaching a hand back to knock his knuckles against Cross's padded tunic, just over the center of his ribs.
"Just barely two years now." Cross supplied meekly, focusing on Blue, "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Blue seemed to perk up at Cross' words, and nodded a bit.
"Right! Yes, forgive me, I am Blue." The skeleton, Blue, supplied with a grin. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Cross."
Then, after a moment, he peaked it head back inside to look at something beyond the door, then looked back out to the pair. He was clearly guarding the threshold.
"If you wouldn't mind waiting out on the front veranda? Dream and I will coke to meet you and guide you to the planning tent." Blue requested, and gestured to the left.
Cross could only imagine the porch wrapped around to the front, and he nodded in agreement as Ink shot off in that direction without a warning.
Blue shut the door, and Cross took his time walking around the side of the old cottage.
Dream.
That was the name of the person leading this revolution. Cross was eager to hear more, solely because Ink didn't always have his facts straight. His memory made it more likely that he was making things up to fill the gaps than anything else.
He'd made this Dream guy sound like a saint, and frankly Cross didn't believe it. Kingdoms can be bad, but the things Ink was saying sounded cartoonish. Blood sacrifice and godlike power? No way was any of that right. He needed to meet this guy and hear what sort of real threats this tyrant posed, and hear how Dream planned on going about claiming power.
Cross had seen a plan like this go poorly before. He didn't plan to let another one happen on his watch.
As he turned the corner, he was greeted with a shocking sight.
Not far past the front fence of the cottage, was a large clearing with a river running through it. Dotted around the edges of the grassy clearing were all sorts of large canvas tents. Ones that reminded him a bit too much of a battle encampment.
Only, the tents were strung up with colorful flags atop, banners of what had to be the Royal insignia of the kingdom in gold and purple, and, most strikingly, that was where those sounds of joy had been coming from.
People were talking, there was a dirt patch in the center of the place where it seemed there were people training, others cheering them on. The scent of warm food wafted past him and made his mouth water. Just from a distance, it seemed like a little sanctuary. Hidden away on the outskirts of a kingdom.
When he finally reached Ink's side, the other had hoisted himself to sit on a low-bearing railing that circled the porch. It barely seemed to hold his weight, but he coukd care less. He seemed content to kick his feet and watch the people out in the main area.
Cross remained vigilant (then again, when didn't he?) and was quick to turn when the front door behind them eventually swung open with a heavy creaking noise.
There, trailing Blue out of the front door, was a radiant skeleton.
His magic alone felt like a warm breeze had passed a summer path and let flower petals gently drift by to make a scenic masterpiece. It was unlike anything Cross had ever felt, and he tried not to look dumbfounded when the skeleton's eyelights skimmed up and over the scene before him.
"Dream!" It was Ink who practically stunt-fell backwards from his perch and rushed over to the skeleton's side without so much as a stumble.
Cross didn't need to see his eyelights to know they were probably both a bright, striking color. His excitement was evident.
"Ink, it's good to see you again!" Dream greeted, and to Cross' utter surprise, he reached out and pulled Ink into a quick hug. "I heard from Blue that you brought a reliable friend?" He pulled away just as quickly as he'd tugged Ink in, but he seemed to watch Ink closely with caring eyelights. A soft yellow.
Ink seemed to take a moment to process, before he gave a single nod and whipped around. In just a moment he bounced off of Cross's side and nudged him for emphasis.
"Right, this is Cross! He's been helping me, but I thought he'd help a lot with that job you needed done!" Ink introduced, and Cross gave a half-bow. He just hardly kept hinself from saluting in his old fashion.
Dream finally took a moment to look at Cross as the door to the cottage finally clicked shut on its own behind him.
It took a moment, before Dream smiled gently at him.
"Cross, it's a pleasure to meet you, truly." He greeted, reaching out a hand. Cross took it without thinking, shaking it firmly. "I am Prince Dream, and this is my knight, Blue." He added on.
Suddenly, Cross wished he hadn't accepted that handshake. A prince? Ink hadn't mentioned anything about Dream being royalty?? Surely he'd have been on better behavior if he'd known!
Dream released his hand, but gave him little time to devolve into panic, and he raised both hands placatingly.
"Please, don't fret." He asked, "I can see you are not from this kingdom and you don't know the plight we face."
It was a nice tone. An understanding one, which gave Cross a moment to breathe and think better of dropping to his knees for forgiveness.
Dream continued, "Undoubtedly you are a brave soul, and a strong one as well. If you truly are interested in assisting us in this fight, I can explain more to you in a moment," He paused, "Though, you have a burden on your shoulders, even so young. Where do you come from?"
Something about the question was so gentle. So... genuine.
Cross faltered a bit, "I-" A breath. "I come from the fallen kingdom of Ritten. A high guard, disgraced once the castle fell." He admitted, trying to will his throat to not grow tight in shame.
"And, may I ask, what brought you to this place?" Dream prodded gentle.
"My family suffered because I was not strong enough to fight against the oppressive might of my king. I ran away, and now cannot help them." He'd thought hard and long about this. Where he'd gone wrong. Every night for the past two years. "I thought that, perhaps, I might save someone else from the pain of an unhonest rule. At least, based on the picture Ink painted for me of your cause."
There was a moment of quiet.
"Mm, I don't remember painting anything of Dream yet though, Cross." Ink chimed in.
The tension felt broken and Dream's tense, serene aura burst into one of fondness and he turned to giggle at Ink. Blue, behind him, sighed.
"Figure of speech, my friend." Dream clarified to Ink, before returning focus to, a frankly startled, Cross. "It seems you're passionate. I cannot promise that helping my people will fill that gap on your soul, but I can swear that you will be doing good for them." Dream assured, and Cross couldn't help but agree.
.
From there, Dream, Cross, Blue, and Ink crossed the lawn. Dream was greeted excitedly by every person they passed, abd Blue helpfully held open a flap to a particularly small canvas tent. One whose walls seemed to block out all the noise from outside, and which most likely prevented any eavesdropping from outside in.
The four of them settled around a table, Cross sat across from Dream, Ink and Blue facing eachother.
The table was strewn with a single map, and that map was covered in all sorts of pins and charcoal scratches. Clearly a planning guide.
Along routes, there were several red X's.
"Cross, how familiar are you with this kingdom?" Dream asked him as he examined the spread before him.
"...Admittedly, I don't know anything at all aside from what Ink has told me. We just arrived two days ago." He said.
Dream nodded as Blue chimed in that Ink was 'unreliable at best'.
"Then I shall start from what I know." Dream said softly.
"I am the crown prince of this place. I was raised alongside my twin in the Wooded Castle." He began, and Cross was already a bit surprised. Twins? For monsters, having twins was practically impossible. It was unsafe, and deadly... "We were inseparable. I was to one day claim the throne, and he was to be my closest confidant. My advisor. We had always been thrilled by our coming futures. I was to be crowned and gifted our familial magic on our 13th birthday."
There was a deep, deep sorrow that suddenly seemed to overtake Dream's face. Blue slumped a bit in his own seat as they both seemed to have their eyelights glued to Dream.
"Just months before our celebration, Nightmare became paranoid and distant. He told me that if I went through with the ceremony that something bad would happen. I'm not sure who placed this idea in his head, as I had been trained from a young age to withstand and control the power. A birthright handed on from my mother's father to my mother, and from my mother to me." He explained, "He did not listen to me, did not trust me."
A miniscule flinch of Dream's shoulders. "During the ceremony, as I was presented with my birthright. An apple, meant to pass on my mother's life energy as well as untold power. My brother rushed up and snatched it from my hands. Consumed the fruit, and was changed by its overwhelming force. He did not inheret the full power, nor was he the same after it washed him in a dark and potent magic." Cross was uncertain. Anxious. What kind of kingdom was this? "Shortly after he took the crown, he... he cast me out. Banished me to a neighboring kingdom."
Dream seemed to take a deep breath. "Since that day, my people have been suffering. Someone or something is in my poor brother's head, whispering horrible lies to him. I was unable to help him when we were young, and it has led to the horrible state of our kingdom. He is using the power granted by our ancestors to flood the people's crops and to destroy their sources of income. The people cannot survive this way much longer. I need to liberate my twin from those who are twisting his mind. So I may reason with him and help guide him back towards the truth."
Cross was taken aback.
Dream literally had an evil twin, and was meant to take the throne.
"There have been many attempts to gain information on the king's whereabouts, but anyone the smaller rebel groups have sent have never made it back." Blue took over the story. "Dream has been searching for a person strong enough to infiltrate the castle to bring us back direct information. We are blind aside from the word of the people."
And the dots fell into place. Cross would be this spy, if he agreed on taking this job.
The others seemed to sense his hesitancy.
"You can back out this moment if you like, no hard feelings." Dream had added hurriedly, "I am aware that our circumstances are looming for an outsider, and it is a lot to ask of a stranger."
It was sincere, but Cross knew himself too well. He was in too deep the moment Ink had told him of Dream's plight. There was no way he would turn down this fight.
"I... want to help you. What else do I need to know?" He replied simply.
The room seemed to fill with a sort of relief at his admission.
It seemed to take Dream a moment to collect his thoughts, before he gestured to Blue. The Knight was already out of his seat and rushing out of the tent. Cross figured this meant they were getting serious.
"My first rule," Dream stated, "Please, for your own safety, avoid facing my twin at all costs." That was... a strange one. "I would fear for his death at your hands, as I truly don't wish to see him dead. Only, he is too powerful for even an army of men to face, let alone one skilled warrior. It would be your death, and I do not wish to send you to the gallows."
Then Dream sighed, "I have had Ink searching for a worthy candidate for this mission. I would send him, but I fear he would forget his goal and attempt to assassinate my twin. And be killed in the process."
Cross gave a nod.
"The second thing to know, is to avoid the Knights. They always wear masks, visages of big cats from across the realm. As far as we are aware, there are three of them. A tiger, a lion, and a black panther." He informed, brow furrowed, "You are not from this area, but I can tell you that the masks are a tradition of our heritage. They are only given to those whom royal blood deem as their most trusted. The masked monsters cannot be trusted, and when together, cannot be faced alone."
Cross hardly had a moment to place the information into his mind before Dream seemed to jolt, "The panther is the strongest of them magically. The lion the strongest. If you come across them on your own, please, just flee with what you've found. All of these people are criminals and vagrants, the lowest of the low. Hostile and dangerous." He reiterated, until he gained another nod from Cross.
That was when Blue entered the tent once again, his arms filled with maps and scrolls and... was that armor?
"We have reason to believe that the power in the castle does not keep a close eye on their guard. The plan would be for you to slip in among a grouping of new recruits and investigate further once you are dismissed from your first round of duties." Dream explained.
Cross figured that could work. He was already a soldier, always had been one, so he wouldn't have to employ his terrible acting skills.
There was only one thing eating at him.
"And... what will I be searching for while I'm there?" He asked boldly.
That was when, almost like a cue, Blue set a scroll before him. It seemed to be a list of locations, people, and imports and exports.
"That is a list of all the things in which Nightmare has destroyed in the past year. All the locations and people affected by his wayward deeds." Dream explained, "I ask of you to listen, and find word of where his next area of disaster is planned to be. That way Blue, myself, Ink, and the others might intercept his Knights before they cause more harm to my people."
Okay. Just information.
Cross almost wondered if it was fate which brought him here, to sit before the radiant prince and his loyal followers.
He'd eavesdropped on his father and spoken with his siblings enough to understand exactly what Dream was hoping he'd find. Plans, schemes, people even thinking of slandering this king who he could crush under his boot.
This list was full of names and towns, written in a gentle cursive script, no doubt written by hand by Dream. Like there was a mourning etched into every stroke of the quill.
"Alright. I'll do it." Cross confirmed, though mostly to himself. Then, "When do I set off?"
#hoping deperately that I tagged the right ppl-#New Age AU#but hii guys welcome back!!!#Cross perspective this time! and our first (official) look at Dream!!!#there's a lot of thoughts I have on this but 1) Cross is a hopeless romantic. he thinks Blue Ink and Dream are all gorgeous and Is In Fact#repressing that feeling lmao#2) Dream is very very regal here but that hug with Ink is genuine. Ink is a good friend but Dream keeps him at arm's length if only to not#risk rumors getting out about his plans by accident. Dream is 100% putting up his front for Cross here#I probably could've kept going but it would've been more summary because after this point Cross sticks around camp for about a month#and gets to meet all these people and hear what horrible things led them to the rebellion#and then he goes off full of conviction and ready to get word of the next planned atrocity... only to find that Nightmare's next plans...#are to fix the things he screwed up?? and documentation of the killed people being legit criminals?? huh??#yeah Cross is just an impressionable lil guy#(<- funny note. Cross and Dream are the same age too. which is funny because Dream thinks Cross is too young to carry *his* guilt.#Dream go look in a mirror you're the same age as that guy!!!!)#okay I'm done lmao#just really wanted to set out a decent impression of the situation and Dream's main headquarters/base of operations
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More notes for Roach conlanging. Roach has grammatical gender, in which only Male, Female, and Object are grammatical genders, whereas Worker uses feminine grammar, Queen and King use a slight variant on feminine grammar, and Drone, and Queen-Alate use masculine grammar. This is because King is derived from Queen, due to their similar positions in a colony, and Queen-Alate is derived from Drone, as both are forms of alate.
Queen is an alteration of feminine grammar that functionally just adds a handful of extra syllables to it, and King is an offsprout of Queen that uses the same grammar with different pronouns. Queen-Alate, despite the name, is derived from Drone, as they are both for referring to different types of alate ant.
Most Roach dialects are intelligible to speakers of Snakemouth Den Cordyceps Roach, but Snakemouth Den Cordyceps Roach is not entirely intelligable to speakers of Roach dialects due to a mix of the excessively specialized vocabulary caused by the specific needs of its speakers, the fact that its speakers do not necessarily have Roach mouthparts and thus may not pronounce syllables in a similar way, and due to the fact that Inanimate Object is a full grammatical gender that does not exist in any other dialect of roach and replaces a decent chunk of terminology for things that previously had Other Words For Them.
#we speak#conlang#bug fables#please excuse us if we're mangling the terminology here btw. we cannot for the life of us remember the proper terms for half of this#and every time we try to google things it winds up turning up nothing#probably because we're googling shit like “the term for the thing where self reference is different if youre a guy or a girl”#and like. “part of speech that you use to refer to other people that isnt pronouns or a name that has title associations”#if we reread some textbooks we will probably remember but unfortunately these are not our textbook reference posts#they are our “what if we told you about the cool ways that we did grammar in here” post#god we love grammatical grammar (<guy who doesn't have a strong enough sense of gender to remember der and die properly)#(because we are the specific type of speaker where we're half operating based on what Feels Right with the word and we are)#(so fucking bad at remembering how gendering words is meant to go)#(the secret reason we hate phonetics is because we have to contend with both figuring out how mouthparts would work and like)#(Working Out A Reasonable Collection Of Sounds To Have In Our Language. which means we have to actually like. name things)#(cruel and unusual that we have to make actual words rather than loosely tossing building blocks on the floor. honestly.)#anyways snakemouth den roach is one of those dialects where it's on the verge of becoming a language on its own#where it's very debatable on if it's Actually A New Language or just a very specific dialect of an old one because. well. boxes#picture it as like. trying to speak to someone who you Think is speaking french but they have an extremely thick regional accent#and they keep using like ten-syllable words that you probably don't know but that seem to refer to things that could be referred to#way more concisely?#and also rather than just le and la they have added an entire new lu to the mix and you are unclear if its the accent or a new word entirel#(note: we are not a specialist on french as we primarily know it in the “we've been around it long enough to vaguely know what's being said#way and are not currently caught up enough on whatever they have going on to know about any major grammar stuff going on over there)#(but we are terrible enough with remembering the grammar of the german that we do speak that we do not trust ourself to not be Worse there)
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High-echelon Mawkin suit modules can be pretty wild, and the Energy conversion module in Raven Beak's suit is no exception.
When exposed to an active current or energy field, the module accounts for the level of charged particles in the local atmosphere and converts the detected matter to power. Most substantial forms of power and radiation are compatible with its function, and it's calibrated to work more efficiently when exposed to substantially powerful forms of plasmic matter.
The conversion module is similar to (but should not be confused with) the thermal charge module, which charges the power suit in extreme heat. That technology is also implemented in the protective exosuits found in Cataris' lava zone. The Mawkin use thermal energy to power a number of their facilities: that they'd implement it in their more mobile works is only natural.
Back to the subject at hand, the conversion module's practicality is twofold: to keep Raven Beak's suit sufficiently charged and to maintain his vigor in battle. His particular biometric modifications are such that his suit, combined with his level of physical fitness, can theoretically keep him fighting without fear of exhaustion in perpetuity.
Raven Beak's juiced up version of lightning armor is the inverse of this module: it absorbs charged particles for the purpose of coalescing into a projected wave. The use of lightning armor in this manner negates the function of the conversion module for restorative purposes. Additionally, lightning armor works best against oncoming projectiles, while the reactive conversion module is at its peak when the suit is exposed to ambient radiation or concentrated, consistent flows of power.
Suffice to say, Raven Beak is probably the only person who could stick a fork in an electrical socket and have it do the exact opposite of killing him.
#when i said he looks down on samus' suit upgrade library with pity. this is the kinda shit he's got under his belt to compare.#headcanons#mawkin#chozo#txt#there's a reason the Mawkin make duelists strip down to the bare essentials when they fight over disputes like leadership#in the case of duels over the title of Warlord that reason is 'to ensure the sitting Lord has not grown soft with the wealth of amenities#at their disposal'#the conversion module is one of those things that's hard-wired into his..#what's the word. cybernetics? Raven Beak has body mods but none of them are cosmetic. they're all for function.#but in any case it shouldn't come into play if he's duking it out with another Chozo in a spear fight.#his rivals for the seat don't have to deal with the immortal god-king who operates at peak efficiency 24/7: just Great Uncle Ashkar#and his fists#those are arguably scarier than the big cannon with its reactor turbines#you could charge this man like a phone#the mawkin were very invested in increasing their warriors' effectiveness in combat. and the suit is for more than just fighting#so a broad-spectrum high power module like that is highly valuable.#electricity. space radiation. charged miasma. you name it: he can probably 'plug in' to it.#he's not invincible and he can't exactly charge his suit in the heat of battle unless he's fighting in a location with great exposure#to charged matter or radiation. just don't fight him in a fallout zone and you're gucci.#i just had the image of him booking it for a nearby power plant to juice up in the middle of a fight snd it made me laugh#grampa's gotta get his talons in the good stuff before fighting it's like cranberry juice to him. it fixes everything.#'drink cranberry juice and eat radiation to get strong like me' -Raven Beak probably
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god the reddening was a book that i wanted to like so bad. and yet. and yet.
#all the care guide says is 'biomass'#me sitting here like. oh. oh thats kinda. hmmmmm.#its like. advanced british racism you know.#like its JUST plausible enough that im not wholly sure if i can call it racism#especially because its all fucking white people#but at the same time im sitting here like. it has. all the bells and whistles OF racism#and sure! you could be using aboriginal in its other definition! thats probably the case!#but its also SUCH a specific word to pick there#also books that made me lose my MIND at one of the last ''big reveals''#books that made me shout ''WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS FUCKING WEED''#theres a free audiobook on youtube but im. not sure. i would recommend it.#fucking. weed. marijuana. thats the big illegal grow operation that theyre getting stupid rich on.#buddy idk how to tell you no one wants your stupid british weed
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#okay so i think i haven't told this story to you guys but i've been thinking about it a lot waiting for the surgery day#(oh i guess content warnings for injury and animal death. idk all of this is pretty heavy stuff)#but when this dog was a puppy he broke his leg. quite badly actually#and for the following six months i was Convinced that both he and i had literally DIED#and the world around us just failed to recognize the blazing red Game Over text superimposed over my line of sight#so we - literal zombies still bleeding from our mortal wounds - had to perform the movements of being alive#this got better when the puppy was finally healed#but the flashbacks. the hallucinations. they followed me for years and years and only slowly faded away#and now when the dog is sick again - with something completely unrelated - those are coming back again! what fun!#and i don't know if i've ever been as scared of anything as actually for real losing this dog in a traumatic event#if he just dies this wednesday#like. probably he doesn't. most dogs survive the operation these days they say#but just the small chance of something going wrong#i don't know if i'll survive if he doesn't. how can i keep going if he doesn't#i'm scared you guys. this dog is the literal light of my life#(i was going to name him with the finnish word for light but that didn't stuck in the end. didn't make it any less true)#sussitalk
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Yeehaw territory is all of the USA, but mostly west of the Mississippi River (anything bought in the Louisiana Purchase that was considered the 'frontier') 🌿
@whataboutyouisamascot thank you for the history lesson! Unfortunately I have no idea where Mississipi is, and I'm way too sick to look that up, so I'm just nodding and smiling gratefully like an idiot 😃👍 <- not a thought behind those eyes
#have i heard the words “Louisiana purchase” before? yes#do i know what it means? no#my knowledge of USA history consists of media references and the one time i went full deep on A Hamilton's life because of the musical#shout out to National Treasure for teaching stuff too ✌️#for the longest time i thought Louisiana was close to Oregon?? and recently i found out it's actually next to Florida#which i'm sure for you guys is hilarious at best and truly it makes no sense#but idk. i thought those two sounded nice together phonetically and therefore were somewhere close????#i will say though. once i'm feeling better i'll probably do a Wikipedia deep dive about it because that's ho my brain operates#like the time i went full Witches of Salem because i just kept hearing about The Crucible and had no idea what it was#i know Mississipi is the big one tho right? is that the one with the canoe buddies? brothers? friends? brokeback mountain situationship? 🤔#anyways. i never seen a cowboy in snow so i just assumed they were in the south mostly. but also i hate westerns soooo. maybe there are.#pardon my ignorance pard'ner 🤠😔#darya answers
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Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)
#twitter and other short form shit and everything being a Phone App On Small Screen instead of a Proper#Computer Website i feel like has just ruined the format of literally everything for me. Thoughts just keep getting more and more condensed#with detail and nuance taken away. everything over simplified into only the basics. blah blah blah. I've already probably rambled about thi#all before but it's just SO frustrating. I literally just CAN NOT talk that way!!! even if I try!!! I took multiple advanced placement#english & language arts classes in school and I literally never made below an A on any assignment EVER except for ESSAYS#where I would legit get almost failing grades just because I cannt express myself concisely. I took an english placement test thats made to#like evaluate your competency in a subject and out of the 102 multiple choice questions I only missed TWO of them. almost a perfect#score. But for the 5 open response questions (about articulating thoughts succinctly) I did not get a single one of them lol#I only got partial credit on 3. It's like I OBVIOUSLY understand the material and I know how Words Work and how to analyze and interpret#meaning and etc. etc. But it's just when I have to express myself CLEANLY I can't. It's always ''well you have very good points and you#get around to the idea eventually and I think it's very insightful - but it just needs to be shorter/the side tangent needs to be removed/#etc.'' I've always wondered if it has something to do with being on the schizophrenia spectrum and how that can cause disorganized#speech sometimes hmm..ANYWAY.. But I just naturally express myself in a very particular way which is lengthy and I can't rea#ly seem to control it. So it's basically like just.. being gradually pushed out of every place that won't accomodate people with different#ways of like perceiving and expressing or etc. Everything cannot ALWAYS be 100% 'Short and Snappy and To The Point' or a quippy one#liner or the Bare Minimum of information being provided or etc. Some peoples brains just do not work like that!!!!! Sorry I operate#in detail and elaboration lol. ANYWAY.. I still sometimes use random ''dating sites'' like OKCupid to look for platonic friends since#I never leave the house so it's hard for me to just meet friends naturally. And I just realized today that they added a RIDICULOUSLY small#character limit to their messaging system (2000 words?? augh). And also took away answer explanations (when you answer a compatibility#question you used to have a space to give detail and explain why you answered the way you did) and removed a few other features and it's ju#t like.. how the fuck is any of this actually helpful in terms of judging compatibility? take away ALL nuance and anyting that actually#is meant to tell you anything about a person? Bumble's character limits for your profile description are even more fucking insane and so#is every other disgustingly minimalistic place I've seen like.. OKC used to be superior BECAUSE it allowed for a TON of detail. like back i#2016 or something there was SO much data you could look at. long form question answers. personality trait summaries. etc. Now you have#SOO little to judge off of when evaluating compatibiility it's like. You'd have better luck just throwing a dart in a crowded street and#talking to whoever it hits. Why are people so fucking allergic to reading anything longer than 3 words and providing DETAILS!! It just seem#harder and harder to find any place to meet platonic friends where you have any amount of actual data to go off of and it isnt basically#just random 'speed dating' set up shit. AARGH. &I know 'oh just join a club& meet ppl irl' 1. erm..covid. 2.I mostly want to meet ppl#in places I'd like to move so I already know ppl when I get there. You kind of HAVE to do that online. bc I am not there yet.. WISHING for#Complexity.Com where ppl can upload full 900 page psychological files of themselves. MINIMUM profile character limit 30k words lol
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you'd think that someone, somewhere on the internet would have posted something about how jewish med students navigate sabbath observance in relation to the hospital schedule UGH am i just not searching the right terms
#original#i've found a couple of very thorough sources discussing the details of sabbath observance for actual doctors#but those sources seem to be operating under the assumption that the doctor can to some extent be making their own decisions about#how and when they're treating patients. which is probably not something a third- or fourth-year med student has the luxury of#also one post on judaism.stackexchange that boils down to “ask your rabbi”#which is less than helpful in context#NOOOO WHY IS THIS PROMISING-LOOKING LINK AN AUDIO FILE#give me text.... please...... i am but a poor goy with adhd... i need to be able to copy and paste the hebrew words..........
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"Some time after Operation Mincemeat, Monty wants to see if Charles actually knows how to tango."
While I'm still working on something bigger, here's a small and sweet fic about Montlie dancing ❤️
#it is taking so long to write the one week later sequel#but i'll get past this section some day and then it's smooth sailing from there i'm sure#for now have this#featuring tango slow dancing and discussions of nicknames#also finally a fic that is less than 5k words#the OWL sequel will definitely be over 10k#probably by a lot#operation mincemeat#operation mincemeat musical#montlie
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Where is this angry-at-everything-all-the-time-Jason. Between him and Bruce he’s the only one being reasonable.
#kelseethe#I doubt this person even understood what Jason gets angry about and why#but I’ll say this much#the problem with Jason isn’t that he’s enraged about the injustices that nobody has the balls to take care of.#that is exactly who he was at his core. since his robin days. that’s what he should slowly go back to#For how often the ‘did he push Garzonas??’ question circulates in this fandom people can’t seem to grasp the point of those events at all#the problem Jason had for a while now is that writers constantly have him forgive and try to reason with a man (his father)#who thinks his own flawed vision/beliefs are law.#he became someone who tries his best not to ‘disobey’ these baseless laws#and instead operates in accordance with them. he technically still is. he is nowhere near the Jason from post crisis#who can and will mentally spar with Bruce regarding all his hypocrisies and win#anybody who says Jason shouldn’t be angry just. doesn’t. GET it.#arrrrgh#I’m making like. The same rant post worded slightly differently 3 times a week#The Jason tag is the true irredeemable villain that should die#This will probably be my last I’m actually tired of talking about this
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i've def heard of people having to be in the right headspace to write like, v thirsty/self-indulgent snz content, but somehow i find it equally difficult to be in the right headspace to write angst
#snz thirst is more predictable bc it's just#letting my d pilot the plane instead of my head and blinking down to see that i've written 2 thousand words#angst is not like a snz-specific device so you'd think it'd be easier to utilize#but specifically in the context of h/c it feels like#close to the same level of self-indulgent for me... only i feel so much more self-conscious when i'm writing it. i think it's also because#i feel like people more easily excuse gratuitous snz as like 'omg the author really went for it 🥵 this is hot' whereas for angst the#equivalent of 'overdoing it' or being too indulgent is like... okay this is ooc. these characters are not arguing in a way that feels#believable. it feels like they are being flattened or misconstrued just for the sake of the angst 🙁#what i'm trying to say is#being perceived as overindulgent in the angst sense scares me so much more than being perceived as overindulgent in the snz sense#when i get really into writing angst i'm like >:) omg i live for dramatic tension and misunderstandings. please argue MORE#but when i get to editing it i'm like 😰😰 what was i thinking. would they really say that... would they really cry here...#which feels terrifying in a different way - the not-knowing if what i've been writing will be received as i intend it or if it'll be seen#as too emotionally trite / unbelievable#does that make sense... i am operating on 4h of sleep right now which is probably#why this post exists haha. but anyways
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sorry if I come on strong my love language is bullying people
#this feels illegal and counterintuitive#i be politeing my shebs off to people I don't like#meanwhile insulting my friend's entire ancestry and their carpet#somehow got it in my mind that verbal sparring is a bonding moment#probably because it involves me being witty#which is also often synonymous with me being funny#and if we're laughing and having a good time together then we must be bonding don't you think#the operative word here is “together”#I will never say anything mean to someone I genuinely dislike#I just hold all my hatred in and bury it very deep inside and hope it burns out before I have to interact with them again#If I'm verbally eviscerating you it's because I love you so much#sorry#lmk if it's not a vibe
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UHH GUESS WHO JUST FINISHED A COLLEGE PREP CHEMISTRY TEST AND TWO BONUS CREDIT PROBLEMS WITHOUT STUDYING🗣‼️
#im not bragging but...🤭#If i was bragging but not gonna lie im so proud of myself#like order of operations with significant figures for a bonus problem that was weirdly easy#which is concerning cus its probably wrong#nearly broke down in painting trging to study and paint at the same time🤭#words of advice: dont paint and study for a chem test at the same time#mik0is0yapping
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➢ So, how did you become a Grey Warden?
Same way you did. You drink some blood, you choke on it and pass out. You haven't forgotten already, have you?
➢ If you don't want to answer, then say so.
You're cute when you get all irritable, you know that? You get this little knot right between your--oh, never mind.
➢ Linktree
#you're lucky you're so charming alistair or she'd probably knock you out lmao#you may have templar abilities to stop her spells but you won't be expecting her fist 😅#selph's not always so annoyed with him though she's just had a hard day and he constantly tests her (everyone's) patience lol#she's quite shy and reserved tbh#hence the sticky-outie tongue and not a fist to the arm i guess#well this is an interesting first art for 2023 isn't it?#first time drawing alistair and my surana#i'm pretty proud of it ngl#alistair is challenging to draw and i kinda like it?#i tried mixing his origins and inquisition looks...'tried' being the operative word#also i tried to draw their armor but oh my lanta that wasn't happening for a first time illustration 😵💫#so sleepwear it is!#bit rusty but i'm trying to find a style and stick to it...haha riiiiight#alistair theirin#dragon age alistair#oc: selph surana#warden surana#hero of ferelden#alistair x surana#alistair x warden#grey warden#dragon age#dragon age origins#bioware#dragon age fan art#fan art#my art#shiftycatstudios#catsanstudios#chichiricatsan
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