#rip the controller i almost defenestrated

[arkailias]

NO BECAUSE I CHOSE TO SAVE JOSH AND IT KILLED HIM ANYWAYS AND I SOBBED /SRS AND I FR DID 4 HOURS OF GAME PLAY AGAIN ONLY TO REALIZW THAT IT HAD TO HAPPEN

until dawn is such a smart game, when it makes you choose between saving josh and ashley it intentionally makes the interface misleading so if the player chooses to kill ashley and the scary murder saw goes to josh instead (a fixed event), the player is convinced that they clicked the wrong button

[k-l-neidecker]

One Person’s Take on what the Infinity War Pitch Room Conversation was Like — K. L. Neidecker

One Person’s Take on what the Infinity War Pitch Room Conversation was Like

A week or so back, I finally broke down and watched Avengers: Infinity War.

It took me a long time to get around to it. I’m not sure, but I think, perhaps, I’ve seen the requisite number of superhero movies one must watch to be considered a happy and productive human in modern society. Check that box, one piece of being an American consumer fully in place, now on to the next strange trend…

Not that I hate comic book movies. In fact, I enjoy them. Just, hey, a few dozen a year is more than enough, thanks! And let’s not even mention that we are stuck with Marvel movies as DC seems to be having…trouble…making movies that don’t suck since the third movie of the Nolan Batman series.

So, considering the spoilers about Infinity War which assaulted my eyes for months, and the fact I knew what was going to happen…the supposed “big moment”…I simply felt no great rush to see it. Sure, I’d see it sooner or later, but it was way down on the the list of things to do—somewhere below a visit to the proctologist and spraying out the inside of the garbage cans.

But, hey, I figured it would be fine for a movie night.

And from minute one, I knew I made a terrible mistake, one which proves karma is a bitch and in a past life I must have been a terrible person. Maybe Attila the Hun’s third cousin twice removed, Bob the Hunnish.

I’d like to present to you my imaginings if what the pitching and brainstorming room must have been like as they planned Infinity War out.

Neon lights flicker and highlight nicotine stained drop ceiling panels. The energy is high, the air buzzing with electricity, though that could always just be the faulty wiring buried in walls which have been privy to so many great ideas in better days…

“Ok, so me and the boys have been talking,” Jim said, gesturing to a pile of sock puppets discarded in a dingy corner, button-eyes staring blankly into the distance, “and we got some ideas for the next Avengers movie.”

The writer’s room hushed in anticipation. A head writer for Iron Man 2, an artichoke heart pickled in brine, wetly rolled from its perch.

“Ok, so we open with a battle! Action is good, right? People love that stuff.”

A cricket farted in the distance, the mating call falling on dead ears.

“I mean, just some fighting, on a space ship. In space! Bunch of stuff happens. Sure, it will be confusing, and maybe some viewers will wonder, hey, did I miss an entire movie or something, because this scene feels like it’s part of some larger whole…

“And then we kill off some important characters! Yeah, baby, yeah! That will get people invested.”

A murmur of assent rippled through the room, taking the form of various belches and the whisper quiet rustle of a nostril mined for ore by a probing digit.

“Ok, and then the Hulk enters the picture, a being so powerful he’s been sent into space because of how dangerous he is to have around…but Thanos mops the floor with him. And guess what? That’s the last time we see the Hulk for the rest of the movie!” Jim leaned back and placed dirty boots on the table, grinning.

He continued, “So, no Hulk, because hell, who needs him anyway, and it fixes the plot hole where he would simply own Thanos early on, end of movie.

“Then, we add in every Marvel hero we have into the mix. So many, in fact, that they all only get five minute snippets on screen, and we just keep cutting between everyone fast enough to send a third of our viewers into epileptic fits. Thank goodness for CGI because we need a half-thousand sets to marionette these characters over.

“Thor, even though he’s been around multiple earthlings over a bunch of movies, will act dumb as hell and confused about words like ‘moron’”

Moron twitched in his sleep, the sound of his name nearly pulling him out of his comfortable dreamland.

“Also, some of the best characters in our universe, the space cadets from Gargantuans of the Galaxy or whatever it was we made a few years back, will run into Thor at random in the almost infinite reaches of the unfathomable soul sucking emptiness that is the ever expanding universe. Good timing!

“Let’s see…ah, right, Thanos just keeps winning non stop, and our heroes simply throw the same tactics at him over and over to no avail. You know, like punches and missiles and some Kung fu or some shit. Hey, the dude owned Hulk, so why wouldn’t Captain America try punching him in the gob?”

Tim, the newest writer, one not yet broken in by Marvel and not yet fitted out for his Marvel Brand Gimp Suit™, broke his silence when he could take no more. “Hey, uh, this all sounds great and all, but don’t you think—“

“No, I try not to, Tim. Thinking is the direct cause of migraines and bed wetting. Ok, so, we have wizards doing the circle things with their palms, some space folk bopping around almost disconnected from the rest of the story, Avengers not calling other Avengers even though fifty percent of the life of the entire universe hangs in the balance…damn, what else was I going to say,” Jim grasped a bong like an infant would a bottle and ripped on it before smashing it on his own head in victory.

“Right. The love story. Every great tale needs a love story: Romeo and Juliet, Ren and Stimpy, all the greats. So, we have a budding relationship between Vision and whatsherface. Let’s make the viewer care, get them invested.”

Tim nodded, “Right, that’s a solid idea man, sounds—“

Jim cut him off, “Of course, with fifty main characters and a two hour runtime, we won’t actually see any of this love or whatever. We’ll just hint at it a bit, you know. Gotta save screen time for purple ballsack, er, I mean Thanos, to wax laconically about how nice a bro he really is on the inside.”

“Hey, no, I don’t think—“ Tim stuttered.

“Good, my man, good. I think you’ll fit in here with that attitude. So, then let’s kill of all the fun characters. Let’s start with the people of color. First scene to last scene, let’s off some green folk, dissolve some Wakanda heroes, let’s go for broke.

“Again, no Hulk. Just Bruce in a CGI suit, so it’s kinda like the Hulk but suckier. You know, we wouldn’t want that actor to actually be in the movie or anything. Just CGI his ass at all times. Note to self, can we just completely CGI his likeness and not have to have an actor at all?

“Let’s have Dr. Strangelove or whatever his name is willingly hand over the one item his entire order was formed to protect… You know, stay true to the characters.”

The sounds of shattering glass echoed from wall to wall as two writers leapt naked through the windows, fist-bumping one another and shouting, “Brooooooooo!”

“See, Tim,” Jim said, “that’s the kind of energy we need here. Get your shit together. Ok, and lastly, let’s dissolve all the interesting characters we have left. Black Panther for one! Oh, and did I bring up the White Wolf? No? Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have an arc in the movie anyway. Hell, no one needs a character arc here. It’s only half a story, after all, and doesn’t need to stand alone or anything.”

Joseph the Randy Donkey brayed a lonely song at the water cooler before defecating a sad pile on the floor.

“Damn, I love that donkey,” Jim said while cleaning his left ear with his right big toe. “So, you see where I’m going here, right? For year people have complained we are formulaic, but look at us being all badass and breaking the mold! We will take a decade worth of characters and squash them together, making half a movie that means nothing on it’s own, simply designed to set up our next million dollar movie in a year, needlessly kill off dozens of the best characters in a way that means nothing and will be reversed within the first quarter of the next movie, dabble in romance sorta, and wipe out half the life in the universe to save everyone from running out of food and stuff!”

The room erupted in cheers and whoops. Three men dueled to the death in celebration, Moron awoke from his long slumber in time to vote in the midterms and drive without using his blinkers, seven Hollywood executives took time away from sexually harassing the donkey the stamp and squeal in delight, a motley mob of slatterns boxed with a dusty group of heroin addicts in a mock Walmart, and the seventh seal was opened in the distance.

But a hush fell on the room like a smothering pillow as Tim cleared his throat.

“Hey, um, if Thanos can control time and matter with a mere thought, wielding enough power to kill fifty percent of all living things at the blink of an eye…why doesn’t he simply will infinite resources into being instead of killing untold trillions due to limited resources?”

The silence in the room laid so thick in the air that a large housefly, fat and well fed on over-ripe Hollywood movie drech, collapsed like a crumpled piece of tinfoil from the mere pressure in the room.

Lucky for the brave writers of Infinity War, there was a handy and already broken window to defenestrate Tim from before calling the seventy-five actors and warming up the computers for modern CGI magic.

https://klneidecker.com/2018/10/22/one-persons-take-on-what-the-infinity-war-pitch-room-conversation-was-like/

[talesofealdancynedom]

Jupiter Minkmonk, in her fairy robes shortly after this story. When your children take a level in magic badass, you take a level in magical parenting badass.

Tale 8: Cetus, Jupiter, and Makatchthis (chapter 4. The Craft Supply Store 4/5 ) part 2. Stories of Fey

coarse language

Matcha had been on Tiberius gate for about a month. Palladis kept him on the gate, fed him, and played with him. Palladis took her task of controlling her brothers, the raven princes, seriously. She spent hundreds of years around humans and preferred their company; she knew the stakes. Palladia also remembered the last time a griminthrope was in the day veil. The day one of her brothers first devoured the flesh of men. Even if Matcha was presenting as a normal boy, the fact he was becoming a deadly beast was at the back of everyone’s minds. As for Palladis, she was one of the eldest royal fey, and she took the form of a small white girl with gold eyes and opal raven robes when approached by humans. Being admired as an iridescent white raven was a fun hobby for the younger princesses. Palladis had lived long enough to know that vanity means little, and is a childish pursuit. Matcha, having grown up a bit, was getting curious about the day veil. being stuck on the gate was like being stuck in the nest; stories were not enough satisfying his youthful mind. He had come to his senses now that he had put on some weight and plumage. He tried to fledge off the tower trellises but often fell on his face. Matcha wanted to fly, be with his brothers, and quench his deep hunger. And when there was nothing rotting on the gate, and Palladis could not bring him carrion, he lusted for the hunt. But Matcha had gotten attached to his new family. He was beginning to love humans as companions; thus, he had developed empathy for living things. Unlike other griminthropes, Matcha understood that the dead once lived. That he himself was half human. He would dare not hurt a human or fey, yet feared he would.

For a long weekend Morgan, Regina, and their friends were taken on a field trip to a fey convention. By their  professor, Hara Fyrstan, who was head of fey studies at their magic academy. They took a bus, and packed for up to three days away from home. Cetus and Jupiter began to sweat. Would Morgan sleep walk back such a distance? What if people found out Regina and Morgan were mages and try to persecute them? What if Matcha or another fey wreaked havoc on the village without Morgan’s guidance?

“Honey.” Cetus said tensely, glazed over as he stared at their precious children walk to the bus.

“yes dear” Jupitar responded. Her body clenched. The Ivory skinned, hazel eyed Franc in her was being tested. North Central people had a low bullshit tolerance, iron will’s, and true grit. which is what made her steady in the face of life’s trials. Jupiter and Cetus held hands as they watched their children walk off to catch the bus. They felt each other squeezing the circulation out of their forelimbs, mutually.

“Morgan needs new clothes. Something in this forest’s water is making him grow like a tree. In spite of his trouble eating….” Cetus quivered.

“I hate malls. He is at that age though,” Jupiter said in monotone. “Wait, he still has trouble eating? I thought we got him on anti-anxiety meds and therapy so he didn’t develop an eating disorder. You need to catch them young. After what His father did, he’s mentally unwell.” She grimaced.

“Oh, yeah. I mean he’s better than he was. Give the kid a break. Man I still can’t believe it,“ Cetus grumbled. “wait. Jupe, Where’s Matcha? Shouldn’t we be watching him?” he gasped.

“Damn it, Cetus. Let’s just take the bloody bird with us.”

“he looks more like a boy. He doesn’t birb very often… For someone so eager to be a birb”

“you mean bird? Which isn’t a verb...”

“he he, that rhymed.”

“I’ll get him” Jupiter sighed. She clicked the keys to make the car beep, which was audible from where they parked it just outside the gate. “I love you!” Cetus yelled walking to the car. “Love you too dear” Jupitar exclaimed back, fetching Matcha and her wallet.

Matcha was thrilled to leave the gate, he chattered the whole drive into town. Palladis tailed behind in flight. Raven children were as swift as any train or car.

“look ornaments! Can I eat one? I’m hungry!” Matcha said when they were in the mall. Cetus had strapped him into a shopping cart with winter twine. A type of thin yet sturdy magical rope. They ddidn’t want matcha running around, even with Palladis at their tail. However, the winter displays and decor were overwhelming and bewitching to the young griminthrope. Even Palladis had gotten distracted from watching her brother. Matcha snatched a ornament off a display as they carted by, and tried to eat the trinket, but then threw it up. He swallowed it whole like a pelican, and popped it right back out in perfect condition. He felt and looked very disappointed. Jupiter took and put it back on the next mall display while they kept walking. Cetus was busy looking for the next store, and without looking handed Matcha a toy. Jupiter had the grimace of someone who was reading internet memes; the distasteful kind. She was like that the entire time they were in mall. The sight was something to behold, the two of them were like veteran parents going to a mall with a toddler. But instead of a toddler it was an ominous black fey in a shopping cart. That was nearly the size of the shopping cart. A few people gave them scared looks, even here this was a bit odd. Cetus assured the staff that a wizard wasn’t necessary; they were just ‘babysitting for their nephew’. Which made even less sense. After over an hour picking out clothes and things they needed while they were there, Cetus and Jupiter found a table in the food court. they sat down with their orders looking exhausted.

“Suppose we should feed Matcha too eh? There is no shortage of trash around here, Jupiter.” Cetus said. Jupitar had gone space cadet eating tatter tots. Cetus rolled his eyes and turned to the shopping cart. It had three bags of clothes and a neatly wrapped cord of winter twine in it. “OH SHIT.” Cetus exclaimed. Jupiter perked up like new mother hearing a baby cry in the next room at 2am. She looked at the cart. She looked at Cetus. Jupiter cursed five times in francish, and grabbed the loot from their cart, her husband’s arm, and then walked out of that mall like a soldier into battle. She didn’t even finish the tater tots.

Cetus and Jupiter sat in the car for thirty minutes in silence brainstorming where Matcha would have gone. He was either in a dumpster behind the steak house or somewhere there is music and shiny things. Clubs were not open this time of day. It was noon. Cetus sighed and looked out the side window to see a large store by the professional building. “oh look, a Gabriel’s. Jupe, that place plays top 40 radio and has sparkly stuff everywhere. Matcha might be in there! I also need more yarn and stationery.” Cetus prompted. Jupiter rolled her eyes and they both exited the car. She should have never of joined that couples knitting group.

Matcha had never been somewhere so wonderful in his life. It almost reminded him of the nest. The music, the beads, the glitter, charms, thread, fake flora, bird houses, and gift wrap. It smelled of cloves, plastic, dust and popery. The lights shone brightly like flickering stadium lights, yet it still felt dark. The soft soulless catchy music played in a soft and tinny voice filling every crevice of the open, sparsely populated, glorified warehouse. Matcha had stars in his eyes, and he grabbed a basket like the other customers. He B-lined to the jeweler section and began tossing things in his basket. He began singing the songs on the PA perfectly, and had starting dancing to make every instruments sound. He was a one-man band. Matcha had also 152 dollars of merchandise ripped open and strung together into friendship bracelets. Matcha had decided to sit cross legged and bead like his father on the top of the cake decorating isle. He was on high profile mission of friendship bracelets.

“customers please stay calm. A wizard has been called, and will arrive shortly. Thank you for shopping at Gabriel’s.” an announcement said. This is when Jupiter and Cetus walked into the store. Cetus excused himself to the yarn section. Jupiter saw and heard Matcha a mile away and walked over to the isle he was perched in. She saw an employee and a wizard looking at the top of isle ten. Matcha was like a child that had eaten too many five cent candies. Jupiter looked both ways down the isle, and then walked forward and looked directly into the wizard’s eyes. Her gaze nearly defenestrating his soul from them.

“a North Central lady. Perfect. Last thing we need is a damn franc. Do we have improper posture? Or are you here to mock us well we deal with this…whatever it is…” The wizard said. Jupiter had been made fun of for her ethnic background since she moved to the grand West. It had made her strong. Jupiter punched the wizard before pulling him into a knee to the groin and tossing him aside like laundry. He lay on the floor whimpering. Jupiter then put one heel into his shoulder and the employee slowly walked backward out of the isle. She was not payed enough for this.

“get down here right now, young man.” Jupiter said with an intense thunder in her voice. Matcha froze cold and looked down at Jupiter’s unblinking stare. He wasn’t sure what he had done wrong. Matcha looked at his half-completed work and then stuffed it into a pouch on his side. Matcha held up a charm bracelet.

“look Jupiter! I made a shiny for you! I’m super crafty now! Just like dad!” Matcha Exclaimed. He was so genuinely proud of himself. He flew down and Jupiter grabbed Matcha by the hand, and escorted him to the till to meet her husband. Cetus payed for his yarn at the till, and apologize for the griminthrope. Jupiter stood behind him holding Matcha to prevent him from wondering off.

“sorry about that, were not trained in magic. Just have to watch him for the weekend. We can pay for the damages.” Cetus said. The manager stared silently in fear behind Cetus, at Matcha, well scanning the wool. Macha began to impatiently wiggle and hum.

“So, you’re taking that thing away then? And it’s not coming back?” The manager asked handing over the card reader.

“nope. Staying with us. Can’t apologize enough…Hope he didn’t scare off any business.”

“in that case, you don’t have to pay us for damages. we’ll pay you in place of the wizard, who is still indisposed by the frosting nozzles. Do you want a beading kit for the road? You know… so that thing is satisfied and DEFINITELY does not come back to my store?”

“thank you kindly. I think that is an excellent idea ma’am.” Cetus smiled charmingly.

With craft supplies in had Jupiter dragged Matcha into the backseat of the car and strapped him in. Cetus, about to get behind the wheel, noticed Palladis was on the car hood.

“YOU” Cetus growled.

“don’t tell my dad. We just went past that chandelier and I just… so sparkly…” Palladis said. Jupiter and Cetus both gave Palladis a nasty glare as they entered the car, slamming their doors. Cetus then started the car and turned on the windshield wipers. Palladis slid off the hood, her pleas barely audible through the glass. When Palladis got up and flew away to follow them home, Cetus began to drive. Jupiter looked into the art supply bag from the passenger’s side seat; “That colour? Sweety, we’ve talked out this. “

NEXT--->

<---PREVIOUS

[stxrmcatcher]

haematophiliac​:

     “Raiding your house? Is that all they are doing right now?” Jax scoffs, sliding to stand in front of Spark and block the way. “Do you wish to lose use of your hands perhaps? Maybe you are just too up yourself to understand what I am saying.”

     He leans in close, almost face to face, arms folding tight.

     “They. Will. Torture you. They will do things so horrific that you will tell them everything that they want to hear, and do not even think that you are strong enough. You are not. You are young and stupid. The pain they will put you through will seem impossible as it happens, your body convulsing and shaking as needles prick your skin and inject you with all sorts of vile things, and you eventually then pray for death. Trust me on this, Spark. You need to get out while you still have a chance.”

      Still, why is he even bothering? Spark is just so… So oblivious to what Rocket does it seems. He was surprised to hear last time that people are killed for failure. So maybe he is arguing a losing cause here with the younger man, or perhaps Spark just wants to go down valiantly. 

     How stupid.

     “Also, I am not threatening you. I am trying to give you some damn good advice if you wish to not have your body broken and pissed upon, only to be thrown into the sewer when you finally perish. So either take note or just go along as you are, get caught and die in a pool of your own damn blood.”

When Jax moves closer once again, Spark found himself letting out the LONGEST, DEEPEST groan, even opening his arms and turn around on the spot out of frustration. Did he want him to get home or not?! Make up your miiiiiiiiind oh my gaaaaaaaaawd!

It wasn’t even like he understimated Rockets! He knew what they were doing, he knew they didn’t have problems breaking eachother’s bones for something they didn’t have control on, he KNEW most of them were just waiting for an excuse to rip out his gosh darn spleen - he didn’t need to be babied and have a guy he doesn’t even like explain him in the worst, smallest details what will happen to him.

    He needs to breathe real quick. In and out. Or else he’ll have an aneurysm.

“Look.”

Ok. Good start. Jax barely finished to talk and Spark is already there answering. Looks like every single fuck has been defenestrated.

“I appreciate, eh? Really! Very very nice of you to spend some of your precious time to tell me how I’m going to SUPER die, but answer me this. WHY. Would I trust you?!”

Woop, he goes for the shove now. He is shoving Jax. Ok.

“I already did it and-and you know? Being left on the ground half dead wasn’t what I expected to get from trusting someone! I’m just saying!  I’m going to be JUST FINE. THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Can I PLEASE leave or you have any other thing to tell me other than HEY, STOP HELPING OUT LITERAL CHILDREN BEING TARGETED BY CRIMINALS?!”