#she's a big missed opportunity

[randomnameless]

you know what could have been nice? If Whodislava had gotten some spotlight in Nopes, instead of Mistake... Like I still don't get who she's supposed to be (never played CF but i've heard there isn't much more about her there anyway?), but she's /established/. She's part of Supreme Leader's commanders, she's one of the closest she has, supposedly one of the best? (else SL wouldn't keep her) and she's loyal to the death to SL.

She's loyal to her, ready to die for her, but she's not a simp, the way Mistake is! She'd have been 100% more palatable than Mistake, while still being clearly blinded by her loyalty.

She'd also have been excellent to show SL's hypocrisy when it comes to her soldiers vs Faerghus's knights; Whodislava IS the equivalent of a Faerghus knight, and I'm pretty sure she'd go as far as Dedue is willing to go for SL (aka, burn a village if asked, kill children, etc).

I forgot where i was going with this, but i just think it's a missed opportunity not to have developped Whodislava, instead of propping up groupie #2397 of SL who counts the number of breaths her beloved emperor takes every minute

(Randomlph is a lot cause though)

Who?

Apparently Ladislava is supposed to be someone who became general without having the "adequate" family background, so she thanks Supreme Leader for giving her a chance to become the general she is.

Which is good, and an example of the meritocracy she wants to promote... except that, as you said, Ladislava is a general who, whose death is as mourned as Paul's the loldier.

Monica is interesting though, if only for her Hubert support where she shows a modicum of awareness about her duty as a noble, only to ditch it completely when Hubert assures her that with Supreme Leader's reforms, she won't need to give a fuck about her randoms anymore, and will be able to go to the Imperial capital to uwu about her idol all day long.

TBH Whodislava could have been someone like Avlora in TS - who ultimately has to confront her ideals about Supreme Leader and the truth of Flamey, and in the end, we off her (like a Camus archetype?) but that would have soured your cup of Hresvelg Grey :(

So she remains a litteral who instead.

[dr-robert-chase-apologist]

when you're watching House and the patient has your diagnosis:

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

I said I wasn't going to get started on the topic of Aveline ruining Carver's chances with the guard but I lied okay, it's Carver Hawke defense hours.

Here's the thing; it doesn't matter if you believe Carver was or wasn't fit for the guard. That's a different debate that I'll get to. What matters is Aveline's in no position to tell the guard not to accept his application. Why does she think that's her right to judge whether or not he's fit?

Carver should've had the chance to prove himself one way or another. If it turns out he's not a good fit, then let him fail. Let him learn from it.

"Oh but failure could mean lost lives-"

Aveline doesn't get to talk shit about failure and the people. Plenty have died on her watch yet she still believes she's a good guard and Guard-Captain.

"maybe Aveline's protecting him, Carver could die while on patrol-"

Carver could die working in the Bone Pit, or serving as a templar, or when he's running around with Hawke. Carver could trip and fall down a set of stairs and die. In fact, he can die in the Deep Roads, somewhere he wouldn't have to go if the Hawke's weren't desperate.

Either Carver fails as a guard, or more likely, he succeeds and proves himself worthy of it.

But let's be real, Carver probably kept getting rejected due to being a Fereldan with a past of smuggling/mercenary work and Aveline only reaffirmed the decision, either because they asked her what she thought or she stuck her nose in unprompted.

But what irritates me is that she admits to telling them not to accept his application, and then has the balls to call Carver too proud to take up a trade or find another line of work.

Carver tells her, "And who would take on a Fereldan apprentice? Maybe in another year I could work my way up to pissboy." He has a good point here. Aside from the guard, the only other place Carver could work and use his skillset is with the Templars. Or go back to mercenary/smuggling work.

And Aveline doesn't even have a real answer for him. No suggestions, no encouragement, nothing. Just "Fine, let's crawl down some holes. Good bloody luck for your sake."

Also, if you do the Mark of the Assassin DLC in Act 1-

Aveline: You should see if any of the noblemen are looking for new men-at-arms. Carver: Are you trying to get rid of me? Aveline: It's a role with some autonomy. A good fit with your training and... tendencies. Carver: After serving King Cailan? You want me to suffer some poncy git who needs two servants to wipe his own ass? I'll find my own way, thanks. Aveline: I wish you would.

You wish he would?? Aveline, he was trying to find his way into the guard, a position he'd make a good fit for, and you helped deny him of it because YOU didn't think he would be good enough, I just-

If I haven't made it clear yet, I firmly believe that Carver would've made a great guard. He wants to help people, to be a protector. He's loyal, and despite what Aveline claims, he can follow orders and take his duty seriously. We see him do incredibly well with the Grey Wardens, after all. If he were a guard, he wouldn't have to go down into the Deep Roads with Hawke, and I think he would've been okay with that! He's so hurt and bitter when you leave him behind because that effectively tells him, "I don't need you." Carver's spent the whole first act telling you he wants to go on the expedition aka that he wants to be needed.

But if he were a guard, he would be needed elsewhere. He'd be in training as a recruit. He'd look after Leandra while you go. He wouldn't be backed into a corner with no income and only the templars left as his chance at forging his own path and providing for his family.

He doesn't get that opportunity, though.

By the way, if he becomes a warden, you can get this banter:

Aveline: I'm glad you found a place with the Wardens. Carver: Well, it's not the city guard, but it'll do. Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you. Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I? Aveline: Well...

This banter makes me want to scream.

Aveline's just... she's so insistent that she's right. She's someone who will double down rather than entertain the idea that she's wrong and it's not just with Carver and the guard, it's with everything. The "my beef with Aveline" list gets longer and longer every time I replay da2, I swear.

Say what you will about Carver, whether you think he would've been a good fit or if Aveline's right and it wasn't for him, he was denied a chance and it cost him so much in the end. He either dies, or he joins the templars where he deals with Chantry's bullshit trying to brainwash him with "mages aren't people" and "magic is a cancer in this world", or he's infected with the blight and becomes a Grey Warden, forced to serve the rest of his life fighting darkspawn, tormented by voices and nightmares.

I will never not be bitter about this.

[crowrrupt]

Tokyo Mio Mew!

[twitter] (better resolution)

[ell-arts]

Home

Quickly put this together today, I hope you like it! I'm really happy with the textures and emotional storytelling in this :3

[sonknuxadow]

im a sonic 06 defender but one of the things about that game that i absolutely cannot defend is its handling of blaze . literally one of the coolest sonic characters ever yet they had her do almost nothing of importance other than die at the end to make silver sad . she interacts with nobody other than silver and on the rare occasion she appears in a scene with someone else she just stands there and says nothing while the other character doesnt acknowledge her existence at all . the only thing she really adds other than dying is making everything way more confusing than it needs to be because her being from the future and seemingly not knowing sonic contradicts what we already knew about her. overall it just doesnt seem like they put much thought into her inclusion and i wouldnt be surprised to find out she was a last minute addition. blaze youdidnt deserve this bestie

[primatechnosynthpop]

Comic panel redraw because I looove sillygoofy guys dying horribly (but then they get better)

[ID: a redraw of a panel from the ghostbusters comic "The Other Side". A possessed Peter and several ghosts with guns stand over the bullet-riddled bodies of Ray, Egon, and Winston. The redraw is done in a simpler style with slight tweaks to some designs and poses (most notably Egon's hair being fluffier and the dead men's eyes still being open) and is extended to fit Ray's boots in frame. The ghosts are a lot less defined and more wispy in the redraw, Peter has a scarier grin and a yellowish glow around him, and there's a large pool of blood added under the bodies.

There are two versions of the image, one with the original panel in the upper right for reference, and the other with the lyric "they'd find us in a week" written in red at the bottom. End ID]

[lovelaceisntdead]

very annoyingly cannot stop thinking about girli tickets.

[lisbonsteresa]

you ever just

[molagboop]

I just think it would be fun to make Raven Beak smooch Samus' other dads.

[smilingmxsk]

((I had to say goodbye to my manager cause she's going to a diff store for a better paying position 😫 life isn't fair bro))

[tomaturtles]

ALSO I!!!!!! GOT TO TAKE A PICTURE WITH JUN SENOUE AAAHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭💙💙💙💙💙

[wereh0gz]

THE COLLECTION HAS GROWN EXPONENTIALLY

[soul-of-the-hero]

Ngl…highly disappointed mineru’s mech wasn’t a fuckin mecha dragon you pilot by holding on to the horns can you imagine

[goodgollymissmeli]

I have been gone for some time! But please don’t be too harsh, I return bearing a gift!! Remember that lil drabble, one shot thingy, Vulture’s Temple? Weeeeellllll, I wrote a part two!! I originally wasn’t planning on it, but quite a few people asked for it, and I got inspiration for it, so here we are!

Once again, thank you to @hanzidanzi, @selfshippinglover, and @janeelyakiri​ who all beta read this for me!

Genuine CW though, there is animal injury and death in this one; I mean, huntress gonna hunt. It’s a little graphic? But it’s not malicious in the slightest, and the animal and its remains are treated with respect. If it still bothers you, I’ll give a sort of tldr in parenthesis at the very beginning; but I do urge you to then jump down to the second set of “~~~~~~~~”. There’s a lil surprise there that I think will intrigue you all, hehehe~.

(TLDR: The huntress kills a deer, field dresses it [meaning she takes out all the inedible organs and leaves them behind], and returns to the area near the temple to butcher it properly; leaving an offering of the heart and choice cuts of meat inside the temple on a little altar she’s built. It’s been about a week since she arrived, and the wolves recognized that she belonged and have left her alone since then, even as she handles fresh, raw meat. Butchering the deer takes her into the night, and after washing herself off in the nearby stream, she collapses into her little shelter that she constructed a few days ago, feeling unworthy to sleep in the actual temple itself.)

The world slowed as the huntress drew her bowstring back, her arrow nocked and ready. She took a deep, slow breath in as she aimed right behind the shoulder of the broadside deer that stood mere yards away. The animal remained oblivious as it browsed, eating the leaves of the bushes for its dinner. 

Her arrow flew straight as she loosed it, piercing the hide and into the flesh, causing the deer to stumble as the sharp tip embedded in a vital organ deep within. Spooked and injured it ran, hooves thumping inconsistently as it tried to compensate for the wound as it fled.

Quickly placing her bow around her torso, the huntress stood and went to track her prey, moving as easily as if the forest was her home.

After about an hour and a half of following the blood trail, she came upon the body of the deer laying in the undergrowth. The huntress took a moment to ensure it was dead before kneeling beside it. She raised the bear claw necklace to her lips and kissed it, a brief show of gratitude to her god before she was able to return to the temple for a proper prayer. 

Then taking out her trusty knife, she began to field dress the animal; opening it up to rid it of the entrails within, while leaving the hide on to protect the meat. It was difficult and messy work, especially since she did her best to salvage as many edible organs as she could. Still, it was impossible to suppress her smile. This prize was such a bounty! She couldn’t wait to share these spoils with her beloved deity!

The sun was beginning to set as she returned to the temple, carefully dragging the deer by its antlers so as not to lose any of the edible organs that she’d placed inside the ribcage. Wolves passed her by at a distance, some glancing at her and sniffing the dead creature, but most paid her no mind.

It had been a week or so since her arrival, and since her first terrifying encounter with the carnivores. After seeming ready to kill her, they’d backed off suddenly that night, as though realizing upon closer inspection that she belonged; both in the forest and the temple. The huntress had a feeling that the deity she worshiped had something to do with it. The thought both sparked eternal gratitude, and made her heart flutter.

Using a tree near the temple, she hung the deer by its hind legs in order to slaughter it properly.

As had become habit with her kills over the past week, she took the best cut of meat from the animal and approached the temple. In this case, she carried the small, succulent tenderloins, a decent chunk of the back straps, and the heart; which was a piece that the huntress was particularly fond of when it was fried in a pan alongside onions and some garlic. These would be sacrificed, as only the best foods should be.

The dilapidated and overgrown structure looked particularly beautiful in the fading gold of the sunset, the huntress thought to herself as she approached it. When she hadn’t been gathering food during her stay, she’d been trying to repair it as best as she could, despite lacking any proper equipment. There hadn’t been much progress, in all honesty, the rocks that had made up the building were large and heavy; many were impossible for her to lift above hip height. Still, she’d cleaned and cleared out what seemed to have been a main room of sorts, and had carefully created a sort of altar in the safest corner of the room. Along with the building repairs, she planned on decorating the altar and eventually the entire room to hopefully suit the taste and status of a god.

With her head bowed respectfully, the huntress placed the cuts of meat and the heart on the altar, before taking a step back and kneeling on the ground. Her prayer was one of gratitude for the successful hunt, and of hope that he would enjoy the ‘fruits’ of her labors. Her heart was full and warm as she prayed, and it remained that way as she returned to her work outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was very late when the huntress washed herself as best as she could in the cold stream nearby. Teeth chattering as she shivered, she made her way back to the fire she’d built earlier, so she would be able to see as she cut the flesh from the bones, and so she could cook some of the meat for her dinner. The rest of the food she had put in a safe place, while the bones she had taken deeper into the forest and had spent a good portion of her time burying; as a sign of respect to the animal that had died to provide herself and her deity sustenance. 

Once she was fairly clean and completely dry, she put out the fire before retiring to her shelter. After that first night it had felt sacrilegious to sleep on the ground that had once been a temple, especially considering how dirty and unworthy she was. Therefore, the next day she had set up her own shelter a respectful distance away. It was into this meager structure that she collapsed, barely having the presence of mind to remove her boots and actually climb into her sleeping bag.

Despite her exhaustion, she felt happy and content as she drifted into a much needed restful sleep, feeling like her life was on the right path.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The forest was just as active during the night as it was during the day, perhaps even moreso. Calls of both predator and prey echoed throughout the moonlit ecosystem, animals skittered and stalked through the darkness, creating a nighttime symphony that he blended into seamlessly.

His mask and cape firmly in place, the ancient being stepped out of the dilapidated building that had once been dedicated to worshiping him. Sniffing the air, he tilted his skull at the makeshift shelter nearby, trying to catch the scent as his heavy steps thumped slowly closer.

This human was certainly a curious one. Some would call her foolish, interacting with a god that most had deemed malicious. Yet she’d shown nothing but kindness and loyalty, even though she’d nearly died for it, and all she had to show for it was a simple necklace.

And now here she was: dirty, exhausted, sleeping on the ground under a tarp that protected from some wind and rain, but would do nothing against large animals.

He ducked his head down to better see inside, sniffing curiously. The human shifted and raised her head slightly, looking towards her feet to the entrance of her little, temporary home. She blinked at him sleepily before laying back down and mumbling something. All he caught was the word “moose,” before her breathing became deep and even once more.

Hmm, a strange human indeed…but a kind one nonetheless. He watched for a moment longer before backing away and returning to his abode. Perhaps he’d done the right thing in gifting her a blessing, and allowing her here. Only time would tell.

[ifacotarwasgood]

CHAPTER 4 - page 12/?

original word count: 2843

revised word count: 1521

click for ch 4's full comparison document.

original:

My father nodded, covering his mouth with a hand. The beast growled his warning and prowled out into the night. I made to follow him but paused to look at my sisters, still crouched by the fire, as if they wouldn’t dare to move until I was gone. Elain mouthed my name but kept cowering, kept her head down. So I turned to Nesta, whose face was so similar to my mother’s, so cold and unrelenting. “Whatever you do,” I said quietly, “don’t marry Tomas Mandray. His father beats his wife, and none of his sons do anything to stop it.” Nesta’s eyes widened, but I added, “Bruises are harder to conceal than poverty.” Nesta stiffened but said nothing—both of my sisters said absolutely nothing—as I turned toward the open door. But a hand wrapped around my arm, tugging me into a stop. Turning me around to face him, my father opened and closed his mouth. Outside, the beast, sensing I’d been detained, sent a snarl rumbling into the cottage. “Feyre,” my father said. His fingers trembled as he grasped my gloved hands, but his eyes became clearer and bolder than I’d seen them in years. “You were always too good for here, Feyre. Too good for us, too good for everyone.” He squeezed my hands. “If you ever escape,

revised:

I could smell my doom on its breath as it said, “Now.” Now. Elain gaped. My heartbeat crashed in my ears as I gathered clothes and tried to remember everything I needed to tell my family. “The venison should hold you for two weeks,” I said, pulling on an extra sweater to bulk up against the cold. “Start with the fresh meat, then work your way through the jerky—you know how to make it.” “Feyre.” My father took hold of my elbow, but I shook it off to fasten my cloak with trembling fingers. Nesta and Elain hovered a few feet away, clutching each other. “The money from the pelts is on the dresser,” I said to my father. “It will last you a long time, if you’re careful.” Once I’d secured the cloak’s last tie, I lifted my gaze. My eyes stung as I had the unexpected impulse to memorize the lines of my father’s face. I turned away, blinking hard, and stuffed my hands into worn gloves. My voice came out hoarse. “When spring comes, hunt in the grove just south of the big bend in Silverspring Creek. The rabbits make their warrens there. Ask Isaac Hale to show you how to make snares. I taught him last year.” My father nodded. The beast growled as it stalked through the broken door frame into the night. Time to go. My father took me by both shoulders. His gaze slid past me, toward the door, and under his breath, he said, “If you ever escape, or convince them that you’ve paid the debt, don’t return.” He shook me slightly. “Do you understand? Go somewhere else. Make a name for yourself.” I barely registered his words. I forced myself to nod then turned to my sisters. Elain flung herself at me. I wrapped my arms around her, tight enough my cheek was crushed against her neck. She smelled of wool and the rose oil she used to perfume her hair. When she released me, shuddering with sobs, she pressed a hand to her mouth, unable to speak. I turned to Nesta, whose proud face was so like our mother’s. “Whatever you do,” I said quickly, “don’t marry Tomas Mandray. His father beats his wife, and none of his sons do anything to stop it.” Nesta’s eyes widened. She said nothing, but as I turned toward the door, she reached out and gripped her hand over mine. Almost so fast I could’ve imagined it, she squeezed tight, then let go. Nothing stood between me and the open door. Beyond, the beast was a shadow. Somehow, I took one step, then another, until I passed the edge of the cottage’s