#so I'm calling it done
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getvalentined ¡ 2 years ago
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咲さんの橋 (1986)
A group of young girls wake up in a strange place, and come to the horrifying realization that there's only one way to "escape."
Saki's Bridge is a mid-80s psychological horror OVA produced by now-defunct Go For A Punch! Studios, known for the creation of several short one-off animated features. One of the most unique features of Saki's Bridge is the absence of a soundtrack; due to the volume of characters, the team chose to direct the minimal funding allotted to the film toward hiring highly skilled voice actors to portray each one in a distinct and recognizable way rather than paying for the composition or licensing of any music. The intense voice acting placed against a backdrop of low, ambient sound effects lends the film one of the eeriest vibes in Japanese media.
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kiryuing ¡ 6 months ago
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teaboot ¡ 3 days ago
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Social anxiety level: Chatting with someone experiencing a schizophrenic episode and becoming increasingly self-concious of how I'm just saying "That sounds really stressful", "I've never heard of that but it sounds scary", and "You must be pretty worried about that" over and over again
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salamispots ¡ 3 months ago
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drew some creatures at the amnh :0
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fridgrave2-0 ¡ 2 months ago
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hehe ghost-turbo haunting felix au
turbo is connected to the last piece of his code in the whole arcade - a trophy he gifted to felix in mid 80s as a symbol of him genuinely caring about their relationships on par with being the best racer. felix also gave him one of his medals and both kept their gifts next to other rewards, but when roadblasters and turbotime were unplugged, the medal was gone with everything else
now, after burning in cola-lava turbo is basically dead, but scraps of his code still were intertwined with the trophy (after all, it was his first winner's cup, but felix never knew about it), giving turbo an opportunity to exist as a shadow incapable of interacting with anything and anyone besides felix, who kept the trophy even after the roadblasters incident
also I went crazy in tags, feel free to check them out
#turbo#turbotastic#fix it felix jr#80s boyfriends#hammertastic#headcanon about them exchanging their trophies isn't mine but i loved it A LOT#and “darling” is turbo making fun of how felix was calling him in 80s#this hc about “doll” and “darling” pet names also is not mine but i adore it#turbo here is a complete freak who just stays around felix most of the time even when felix has moments with calhoun#and felix is an ass who keeps secrets from everyone bc he doesn't want his dirt to come out#he's ashamed of his previous relationship with turbo and doesn't want anyone to know any details#and calhoun to just know about it#this just gets worse and worse#they also didn't actually break up and were still technically dating when turbo went gamejumping#and he's mad af at felix because he's the reason ppl in the acrade made a boogeyman out of turbo and he couldn't come back#like imagine your bf says to you what you are better than others think of you#and then behind your (presumably dead) back tells everyone that you're just an egocentric maniac#i believe turbo has other reasons why he gamejumped (besides jealousy which took place but wasn't the most important reason)#and felix is an unreliable narrator#so yeah turbo HATES his ass#(but still would-) no im not making it suggestive#anyway i hc that turbo had put A LOT of emotions in this relationship even tho he's bad at this#he tried his best with felix but they were just making each other worse#and turbo while feeling betrayed never really moved on (yes even after 25 years he's PATHETIC)#and felix is just full of regret about everything but he won't admit his mistakes in his relationship with turbo#bc “well he turned out to be a bad person so that automatically makes me in the right about everything”#but felix had made a lot of bad decisions while dating turbo and was just classically ignorant about a ton of things#sorry about this random ass essay in tags i'm done for now#wreck it ralph#wir
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bixels ¡ 3 months ago
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vague-posting about this here cuz i don't feel comfortable yapping about my su takes on twitter, but after everything that's happened the most interesting thing about the su fandom to me is that so many are 100% there for applying the "everyone can change and deserves a second chance" message to everyone, even the diamonds. except for one ☝️ she doesn't count. cuz she's dead.
#personal#very extremely delete later#ok cutting the vague post this is about a “whose the worst cartoon mom” twt post with pink diamond in the running#and a bunch of people pointing at her. the woman who died in childbirth and never got to meet her child. and she's literally next to#mother gothel. the baby kidnapper who kidnapped a baby#i'm always gonna be a pink diamond nuancepilled defender. she was a shitty entitled teen who grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth#then got self-radicalized and rebelled for both selfish AND selfless reasons#“this show is great because everyone makes mistakes and learns from them. except the pink one. she's bad and dead forever.”#anyways this is a crit towards the fandom not the show#“she had steven so she could selfishly escape her mistakes and put all her burdens on her child” or she wanted a child#“she abandoned her family” or she died during childbirth#“she started a war that got thousands of gems killed and mutilated” and if she hadn't nobody on earth would exist#the fact that some fans are more willing to jump to white diamond’s defense when talking about her reformation and redemption#white diamond—the architect and supreme ruler of a 10000+ year old fascist empire—has 10000% done worse more unforgivable things than pink#guys even blue diamond has shattered gems before. like not just kill them but permanently split their souls into pieces.#ruby called her a “SHATTERER.” she was INFAMOUS for murdering people. pink never shattered anyone#for fans of a show that explicitly says nobody's truly a villain you guys sure do want a villain really badly#anyways “we need more compelx female characters y'all couldn't even handle rose quartz” etc. etc. etc.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs ¡ 22 days ago
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hope you feel better soon!
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I am riddled with ailments, but I stay silly!
#ask#non mdzs#My health journey has been: Hernia -> acid reflux -> Vocal pain due to aforementioned reflux -> chest infection.#I'm terrified to know what's about to hit me next. Please let it be something kind. PLEASE.#The consequence of living with linguists is that you'll wake up with a wacked up voice -#suddenly you're sitting you down in front of a program called something like Praat having your shimmer and jitter levels calibrated.#They gave me a GRBAS of 33012. I have a fun thing called a pitch break where a whole octave just does not exist.#My vocal pain was bad enough I ended up seeing a speech pathologist and that whole experience was super neat!#I learnt a lot about voice - to be honest I might make a little comic on it after some more research. Fascinating stuff.#For example; your mental perception of our voice modulates the muscles of the vocal folds and larynx.#meaning that when you do have changes (inflammation = more mass = lower frequency)#your brain automatically attempts to correct it to what it 'should sound like'. Leading to a lot more vocal strain and damage!#And it gets really interesting for trans voice care as well - because the mental perception of one's voice isn't based on an existing sampl#So a good chunk of trans voice training is also done with the idea of finding one's voice and retraining the brain to accept it. Neat!#Parkinsonial Voice also has this perception to musculature link! The perception is that they are talking at a loud/normal volume#but the actual voice is quite breathy and weak. So vocal training works on practicing putting more effort into the voice#and retraining the brain to accept the 'loud' voice as 'normal'.#Isn't the human body fascinating?#Anyhow; Now I have vocal exercises and strategies to reduce strain and promote healing.#Which is a lot better than my previous strategy of yelling AAAH in my car until my 'voice smoothed out'.#You can imagine the horror on the speech path's face. I am an informed creature now.#I'm my own little lab rat now. I love learning and researching. Welcome to my tag lab. Class is dismissed.#I'll be back later with a few more answered asks </3 despite everything I'm still going to work and I need the extra sleep.#Thank you for the well wishes! And if you read all of that info dump; thank you for that as well!
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jitterbugbear ¡ 5 months ago
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gale's folly
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krashlite ¡ 5 days ago
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"A stream through the valley to nourish these hills would lay all my troubles to sleep" A Field Song - Unfamiliar Things
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Based off of CherriFire's designs!
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soaptaculart ¡ 1 year ago
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Zelda & Link 🫶
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trensu ¡ 1 year ago
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Steve had always wanted to be a skilled fighter. The schools that churned out the best fighters all happened to be schools for holy warriors. It was possible that Steve maybe sort of lied a little (with the help of his friends Robin and Dustin) to get into this school by claiming he was full to the brim of religious fervor but hadn��t decided who to pledge his sword to yet. It shouldn’t have worked, if he were honest with himself, but by some stroke of luck it did, and he finished his training as one of the top combatants. 
The issue now was that he had to pick a god whose crest to carry. There were all sorts of gods. Gods of water, gods of air, gods of agriculture, war gods, cat gods, plant gods...the list was endless. And while Steve was one of the best fighters around, he was most definitely not one of the best researchers. Thankfully Dustin and Robin were very clever and knew where to find details about the many gods in existence.
“So what kind of god do you want to follow? Maybe we can start there,” Robin asked.
“Uh…a good one?”
“You’re no help at all, you know that?” Dustin grumbled.
They suggested a local god known as Carver who stood for righteousness, but Steve turned that down. It didn't feel like a good fit. They suggested a love god by the name of Chrissy, who valued love of all kinds, romantic, platonic, familial...Steve had been tempted, very tempted, because Steve had always carried an excess of love in his heart. Robin had vetoed that one stating that Steve was already too reckless with his love and she wouldn't stand by and watch him break his own heart over and over again.
Dustin suggested a god of knowledge, Clarke, who blessed and guided those with curiosity, imagination, and a knack for invention. Steve shot that one down immediately. He was never one to be overly imaginative or curious; he preferred to deal with concrete things. Out of their quickly dwindling list, Robin reluctantly suggested Hargrove, a war god favored by a nearby kingdom, but if Carver was ill-fitting, then Hargrove was outright repellent to Steve.
"C'mon, Steve, you gotta pick someone!" Dustin huffed in frustration. 
Robin thunked her head against the table in the library where they were looking up deities. She was obviously at her wit's end too. Steve, however, just dug his heels in with a particularly stubborn scowl.
"I can't just pick anyone!" Steve said. "If I'm going to pledge my sword to someone, it has to be someone...someone good. Someone that, I don't know, someone I can believe in, even when--no especially when things go wrong. That’s the whole point!"
"Yeah, I get that," Robin sighed, a mix of fond and annoyed, "but this is the eighth book we've gone through and the only one left here is called the King of Darkness which is hardly going to--huh."
Robin paused mid-rant to look at the page more closely. Steve and Dustin both huddled around her to peek into the book as well. Dustin also made a sound of curiosity.
"That's weird," Dustin said.
"Right?" Robin asked enthusiastically.
"What? What's weird?" Steve didn't get what caught their attention.
"This god only has a couple of sentences," Dustin explained, "And they don't really make sense. Something about dark creatures and the undeserving? The grammar and structure is all weird though."
"It looks like a half-assed translation," Robin added with a nod. "We should find the original text."
"Yeah! And if we can make a better translation, we could get it added to the next edition and they'd have to put our names on the book," Dustin said excitedly. Robin's eyes lit up at the thought and they both rushed off to the stacks to track down any original sources.
"Guys! Guys, what about my..."
The librarian hushed Steve, irritated. Steve groaned in defeat.
"...godly choices. Yeah, fine," Steve slumped back on his seat. "I need to find non-nerd friends."
Two days later, Robin and Dustin finished translating a slim, dusty book. They were nearly vibrating in their seats as Steve reviewed their notes on what they found. Dustin gripped his arm and gave him a shake.
"So? What do you think?" he asked excitedly.
Robin slung her arm across Steve's shoulders. With more tenderness than Steve expected, she said, "I know it doesn't seem like it, he doesn't really fit with your whole style, but it could work."
"Yeah," Steve said with a hopeful smile. "Yeah, this feels right."
--
It took longer than Steve would've liked, but eventually he managed to track down a small, crumbling shrine. It was an alcove carved near the entrance--no more than a crack in the stone really--of a cave at the edge of a lush forest. He almost missed it, it was so drowned in overgrown crawling vines and weeds. It bore a modest statue, no bigger than Steve, standing atop an equally modest plinth. There was a spot that obviously held a plaque once, but it must’ve been dug out by thieves at some point.
The sight of it made something in Steve's chest twinge; a strange pang of melancholy at seeing a god so forgotten and abandoned. It surprised him as he had never been particularly religious, but there was just something about this one that drew him in.
It was the middle of the day, so Steve quickly made camp and took advantage of the light to begin clearing the shrine. He started where the plaque had been, scrubbing off the dirt and moss that had filled the indentation. He knew a good smith; he could commission a new plaque to be made. After that, he weeded the immediate area around the plinth where worshipers would typically lay their offerings and pray.
By the time he finished that, it was late afternoon and he decided that was good enough for today. He had to eat and get a few hours of sleep so he could be alert once night fell. When he curled up on his bedroll, he couldn't help the grin that spread on his face. He was going to offer himself to his god tonight, and with any luck, his god would accept him.
--
He woke to a multitude of high pitched squeaks and the sound of many, many flapping wings. The sun had just fully set, and the stars that could be seen through the canopy burned brightly. Steve took his time to fasten on his armor and scabbard properly, and fixed his hair so not a strand was out of place. He took a few deep breaths to calm an unexpected bout of nerves before going to the shrine and kneeling.
His god had no official prayers. Or rather, the prayers for his god were forgotten. Robin and Dustin did their best to find anything prayer-like but it had been in vain. They suspected that most of the god's holy items and lore were purposely lost. Lacking that, Steve decided it was best that he introduce himself.
"Um, hi," he started and immediately winced. "Sorry. I'm not used to...this. I couldn't find any of your…holy words? Prayers? The right ways to speak to you, I guess.
"I'm Steve. Steve Harrington. I'm a fighter. I finished my training a few weeks back. I was the top of my cohort when it came to combat. I'm good with my sword and I know how to take a hit. I can turn just about anything into a weapon if it's needed."
Here Steve paused for a moment, straining to hear but there was nothing other than the typical sounds of a night out in the woods. Steve took a breath and plowed forward.
"I want to be more than a fighter, though. I don't want to just wave a sword around for nothing. I want it to...to matter. So I spent a lot of time trying to decide who to wield my sword for. It took me a while, but I found you. I want to be your shield and sword, if you'll have me."
Steve stopped again to listen. Nothing. Robin warned him this might happen. Gods didn't always accept warriors who offered themselves to them, and forgotten gods weren't always reachable. It was fine, though; he’d try again tomorrow night. Steve turned in just before dawn, eager for night again.
--
Steve worked on clearing the vines tangled around the statue's legs and feet. He yanked out the thick, scraggly vines, and carefully picked apart the prickling thorny ones. There was a particular gnarl of vines that didn't seem like they had a stranglehold on his god's statue. They were healthy and strong, and the way they curled and grew looked more like a caress than an invasion. He decided to leave those on, though he gently rearranged them while removing the more invasive vines so they looked more decorative.
When night arrived with the sound of squeaks and wings, Steve went to kneel at the shrine. He introduced himself again, gave the same spiel as the night before. Still he heard nothing. He scratched the back of his neck in mild insecurity.
“I guess I should tell you I didn’t find you on my own. My friends Robin and Dustin helped me. They’re way smarter than me, you know? Total nerds. I can swing a sword like nothing, but books and research? Yeah, that never works out for me, so they helped me look up all sorts of gods.
“There’s a lot of them. Way more than I thought. Dustin and Robin both recommended me ones or vetoed others. They were getting frustrated with me because I kept rejecting the ones they gave me. 
“Then Robin found you. Kind of by accident, to be honest. But she did her research thing and I knew that I wanted to carry your symbol. It took me forever to find this shrine. Robin said this was probably the only shrine you had left, so I had to find it. 
“Dustin kept saying it was on the other side of the forest, but obviously he was wrong. Not that he’ll ever admit it, the little shit, but whatever. I’m sorry your shrine was abandoned like this, but I promise I’ll fix it up. I’m good with my hands, I can do it.”
There was no response to his admittedly disorganized ramble. It was fine, he told himself. He needed to be patient. He’d come back the next night.
–
Around the statue’s waist there was another tangled mess of vines, except these vines had died and rotted to dark sludge. There was fungus growing on it, and it reeked. It was gross. Steve scrubbed at it for hours because the rot had stained the stone. He was able to get rid of the rot and most of the stains before going to catch a few hours of sleep in the afternoon.
Night fell and Steve was kneeling for the third time. He repeated most of what he said the previous two nights. There was still no response. He thought maybe he was pushing too hard. He’d never been the super talkative type anyway. He could share the quiet night with his god, if that was what his god wanted.
A few hours passed when he was startled out of his near meditative state by the sound of snapping twigs. He leapt to his feet, hand on his scabbard. Someone–a man by the look of it–stumbled out of the woods. He was pale and dark haired, dressed in ragged clothes that were probably awful even when they were new. He looked like a vagabond. 
Steve stepped in front of the shrine, protectively. The stranger grinned at him and Steve could already tell he was not going to enjoy the conversation that was about to happen.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Steve asked firmly, cutting the man off before he could speak. The smile only grew wider.
“I could ask you the same thing, sir,” the man said, adopting the annoyed huff of a wealthy lord. Steve scowled.
“I asked first.”
“I asked second!”
“You didn’t ask me anything,” Steve responded, somewhat smug. The man paused and then snorted a laugh.
“Yeah, okay.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You got me.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“What are you doing here? Who are you?” Steve repeated shortly. The teasing grin was back, and Steve felt his scowl deepen.
“Nothing and no one, m’lord,” the man bows mockingly.
“I’m not a lord.”
“Huh. Could’ve fooled me. You’re certainly as demanding as any lord I’ve ever met.”
“Oh fuck you,” Steve snapped. “I’m a holy warrior.”
The man laughed at him outright.
“Well that doesn’t sound very holy warrior-ish. Are your type allowed to swear?”
Steve grinded his teeth and decided it was not worth it to continue this conversation for much longer.
“Look, if you’re here to steal, I’ve got nothing on me.”
“That’s exactly what someone with something to steal would say.”
“Well, I don’t! I’m on a pilgrimage and I don’t want to spill blood on holy ground. So.” Steve wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword. “Leave. Please.”
“Holy ground? Here?” the man barks out a laugh. “Don’t you know what this place is?”
“Yes,” Steve says shortly, placing himself more firmly between the shrine and the man. “Please leave. There shouldn’t be violence done here.”
“Oh, it’s far too late for that. This place used to belong to the King of Darkness. It’s said he was so evil that nothing grew here until he was run out and defeated by the god of righteousness. You know the one. Really plays up the holier than thou thing by making his hair all gold and glowy? Gotta say, you could give him a run for his money though.”
“You’re wrong.”
“No really! Your hair is great. Way better than Carver, even with the glowy thing.” 
“Not that!” Steve said in frustration. This guy really liked the sound of his own voice and Steve was starting to get a headache. It was near dawn and all he wanted was to spend the last hour or so in the quiet night with his god.
“So you agree your hair is better than a god’s?” The man tsks at him. “That’s pretty blasphemous. Are you sure you’re a holy warrior?”
“No! I mean, yes. Wait,” Steve growls at his own bumbling. “No, I’m not better than any god. But I am a holy warrior. Kind of.”
“Kind of.”
“Look, I’m working on it so I need you to leave. You’ve insulted him enough already.”
“Your god is the King of Dark–”
“Call him that again, and I will draw my sword,” Steve said, voice steely. “He’s the Lord of Night, and I won’t let you insult him at his own shrine.”
The man goes quiet for the first time since he showed up. He looked almost surprised, his mocking grin gone. His eyes flicked over to the dilapidated statue and then back at Steve.
“Lord of Night doesn’t sound much different than what I called him,” the man said lightly.
“Well, it is,” Steve told him. “Now, will you please leave?”
The man stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, alright.” And then he left as suddenly as he had arrived.
The tension that had built up in Steve’s shoulders drained away. He went back to kneel in front of the shrine again when he noticed the barest hint of sunrise on the horizon. He cursed under his breath then was hit with a wave of embarrassment at cursing in front of the shrine and the whole situation that had transpired.
“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said, abashed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”
–
It happened again.
now with an additional snippet here and here
ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you'd like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories
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saracastically ¡ 1 year ago
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out of reach 🌕✨ a comic about scrolling on your phone and falling in love collected in full below 💕
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fin 🌕
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revvethasmythh ¡ 7 months ago
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You know, I think there's something so, so insidious to the idea that Orym's perspective of the Vanguard is "flawed/human" or that him repeatedly reminding his friends what the Vanguard does (kill innocents to achieve their means) "blocks nuance" in the conversation, etc, because it implies that, in this mythical "objective" perspective that apparently exists, the Vanguard aren't so bad. If only Orym could put aside his petty grievances, such as the murder of his father and husband, and let people be nuanced about this situation, he'd see there's two sides to this story. And why discount the Vanguard's perspective just because *checks notes* they're a massive, manipulative cult that preys on vulnerable people to join their ranks and turns them to violence, or that they work with a centuries-old fascist eugenicist literally mind-controlling psychic government with the goal of freeing a creature that could very well destroy the world as we know it and even if it doesn't, will leave an enormous power vacuum for that fascist government to potentially occupy when they invade Exandria?
I think there's some misconception people have that they think war shouldn't ever be personal and if it does become personal for someone then their logic is too clouded by their feelings to see the situation clearly, just automatically. And perhaps sometimes, in some contexts, this can be true! But not here. It's actually quite cut and dried that Orym's "flawed, human" perspective is the one reminding everyone of the human cost to Ludinus' grand plans, all in the name of so called "progress"
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babykittenteach ¡ 8 months ago
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Fairytale art again, but vaguely in the style of Kay Nielsen this time.
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frownyalfred ¡ 2 months ago
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here friend, I'll help you: when you realize the characterization isn't to your liking, go ahead and do me a favor -- scroll up to the top right of your screen and hit that big red X button. there, problem solved.
also don't bookmark it. I'm so freaking tired of having this conversation.
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cinamun ¡ 6 months ago
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Run me my money | Next
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