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nightcoremoon · 4 years ago

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so for the first time I saw batman: the killing joke.

...

it was okay I guess. but massively overrated. I expected some fucking masterpiece of cinema but instead it was just two unrelated short films that were more style and flash than substance.

so first off, barbara's storyline was mediocre. franz wasn't a compelling villain; just a creep, and a trust fund brat. oh wow he's a mafia kid who stole his family's fortune by hacking. if it was the falcone family I'd have cared more but it wasn't so it's just some faceless deathfodder rando. who gives a shit. the whole situation was just a vehicle to shove batman's dick into babs. which kinda fucks over bruce's character here and judging by the timeline kinda makes him a bit of a groomer, yikes. bruce and gordon have known each other since bruce was a young boy and we know that bruce is way older than babs so yeah bruce totally knew her from birth until present day, he literally utilized an active power dynamic to police her crimefighting activities, and he should have fucking known better and stopped her when she kissed him because it would (and did) compromise their professional dynamic, but hey, batdick. and at least barbara recognized that she was behaving emotionally rather than logically when it came to bruce and paris and took the high road out. that would be a serviceable standalone episode to write her on a bus in a serialization but THIS IS A MOVIE. so for a waste of an already short runtime it's like having an appetizer before your meal but instead of something like a crab cake before stuffed flounder, you get greasy onion petals that are more fried batter than onion before getting a well done cheeseburger that's just a glorified hockey puck on a sponge with a kraft single on top. the animation and vocal delivery were excellent of course, not gonna disparage that aspect, so it was well made, but the writing was just not very good. a polished turd. quantic dream must have developed it then because it feels like I watched a david cage production.

so in a 78 minute movie, five of which were the credits, we had a half hour Disney/Pixar short except those bring joy and this brought boring. also there were a lot of shots of her ass tits and underwear that were obnoxiously male-gazey and there was a token gay for the sole purpose of dangling a carrot on a stick for the queers. look kids, warner brothers and dc comics cares about the lgbts! give us money! a waste of time before the real reason why anyone came to see the movie that literally only exists to pad out the runtime to make it a feature length (even though paying a full ticket would've been a total ripoff because, again, IT WAS ONLY 78. even 9 was 81 minutes long and that had an amazing storyline so I forgave it, but 78 minutes? ugh.

also, GOTHAM RAGE??? CRINGE. SO CRINGE.

alright now for the joker segment.

*ahem*

what the fuck? that sucked! *throws tomato*

mark hamill and the joker's lines and the art and the cinematography and the choreography was all good and the plot was cohesive. I get it.

but holy shit was the writing weak as fuck.

okay so some rando breaks the J-ster out of Arkham (already unlikely but ugh whatever), he didn't turn a trick or recruit or anything, he just went to purchase a carnival. or, steal one. but wait, he DID recruit, but he went to get all of the stereotypical Circus Freak™ stereotypes. little people, fat lady, bearded lady, wolf man, strongman, diaper man (wait, what?), and the two headed woman. I guess if you don't really think about why all of them were super readily available in the outskirts between arkham and gotham [i just realized they both end with -am] then it makes enough sense. and then literally right after that HE RECRUITS SOME GUYS TO HELP HIM KIDNAP GORDON. and then strips and photographs barbara. um. ew. you can tell the writer and director were men. Alan Moore is constantly molesting women in his comics and this one trick pony should be put down already. but whatever. the plot is weak and it only gets saved by the flashback sequences.

oh.

oh no.

they're not that great.

he's a failed unfunny comedian who just wants some money to move his wife to a better house so he turns to thievery with the mob. OR YOU COULD JUST STOP GOING TO THE BAR AND BLOWING IT ALL ON BOOZE. I mean the cops knew where to find him after all so clearly he's a repeat customer (or moore is a bad plot writer who relies on convenience and shut the fuck up and don't critically analyze it). alright so he gets wrapped up in the mob to perform a heist on a playing card factory. GET IT, BECAUSE HE'S THE JOKER??? and he uses the moniker of the red hood to retain his anonymity. I expected the mobsters to be working for francisco but no the paris storyline was only cooked up screenplay for passing the runtime so why would they do something clever and interesting and make the film cohesive? that'd be really stupid to make the movie feel more like one movie and not two short films. at least when grindhouse & planet terror did it they advertised themselves as an anthology film. whatever. he falls in the vat of acid which melts the red hood to his face and I gotta say that's actually a pretty good idea to get his face white and his hair green and his lips red. I like that part. oh wait I forgot about the most important part! his wife gets shoved in the refrigerator. OH WOW THAT'S JUST SO COMPELLING AND ORIGINAL, TOTALLY NOT SOMETHING THAT ALREADY HAPPENED TO GREEN LANTERN. TWICE. although she wasn't literally shoved into a literal refrigerator like alex was. rip in frozen pieces you absolute legend of a trope namer. alright, so... so the joker is sad because his wife died. you know, the wife we saw for two minutes and knew the moment we saw her drenched in sepia she was gonna die. and she died offscreen. kyle's gf died and he was fine. gordon's wife died and he was fine. batman's parents both died and he was fine. oh boo hoo someone I love died! fuck off. I am so goddamn sick of people trying to justify their evil with "I was sad once". it's a stupid trope and it's not compelling. the only valid version is doctor doofenshmirtz' evil(er) version in the PF movie because it's hilarious that it's because of a toy train because that's the emotional depth that fridgewomen is treated with in all of these storylines. but at least batman said so. oh yeah, I almost totally forgot, batman's in this movie.

batman punches people and nonlethally takes them out. by suffocating them and letting them get stabbed and throwing them into pits of spikes and HEY WAIT A GODDAMN SECOND! okay let's just ignore that bit and hope that the little people squeezed between the gaps in the spikes and the strongman could breathe in the face mask and the two headed women had KO gas and the fat lady was fat enough that the knives only stabbed her cellulite. it wouldn't be the biggest reach one would have to make in watching this fucking disaster of a plot mess.

now I did like that it was actually batman, and by that I mean he gave a shit about the insane because he recognizes that mental illness is not a cause of dangerous or criminal behavior, just a potential exacerbating factor if it wasn't treated. yeah he brutalized mobsters and crime lords but they were mostly in self defense while gathering intel. he politely asked sal maroni and the sex workers for information and they gave it to him without violence- he manhandled maroni but only after he reached into his pocket for a cigar which could've been a gun. also batman says sex work should be decriminalized if only by not ratting them out to the cops. he was a genuinely good person in the second half of the movie. too bad it was ruined by the shitty first half that made him a borderline groomer.

joker's song was... bad. mark hamill performed his ass off but the song wasn't that good. it just tried to be willy wonka if he was a voyeuristic monster. oh yeah have the only girl character be paralyzed stripped and photographed only to give her father ManPain™. again... the fuck? joker and batman were both gross but, again. male writers. if it was a one-off I could drop a thermian argument because, alright one and done makes sense, especially 1988 standards. but it saturated and soured the entire goddamn movie because of abhorrent pacing decisions. so you're goddamn right I'm gonna bring it up twice! joker was a creep, his plan was dumb, nolan and burton and lord/miller and even ayer had better motivations. YES I AM SAYING THAT JARED LETO'S JOKER HAD BETTER WRITING THAN MARK HAMILL'S JOKER. not nearly to the level of ledger nicholson or galifanakis but hamill didn't have a lot to work with here and I maintain that his performance was amazing; honestly I like his the best out of all of them but just... not here. but I think I can cut some slack to firelord ozai and luke skywalker even if he just phoned it in here which he didn't. writing was just weak. and that's all there is to it. don't anon me and threaten to remove my bones ok?

alright so batman and joker fought and joker got the upper hand and was gonna kill him but it was a prop gun. haha. they had a heart to heart and batman tells joker that he wants to help him get better, even after joker killed robin and molested barbara and traumatized gordon and did countless other travesties, he still said he would help. but joker said no, and told a joke that was good enough to make batman laugh. and then the credits rolled.

...

what a completely pointless and empty ending. oh it's deep and meaningful and poignant? ok sure, I guess, movie, but you didn't earn that. shyamalan did the same thing a dozen times. that doesn't make him any less of a shit writer.

I can understand the concept of batman laughing at joker's joke, humanizing him.

I get it. I see what they tried to do. I respect it.

but this movie was massively overhyped and overrated and I expected it to be so much better than it was. but overall to me it was just another batman cartoon to throw on top of the pile. maybe it was influential to graphic novels. maybe it shaped batman into what he is today. it published right as tim burton's movie and I can respect its place in the pantheon of comic history. but sometimes things that are classic...

aren't that great.

citizen kane, casablanca, the maltese falcon, the treasure of the sierra madre, gone with the wind, singing in the rain, all of them are classic and legendary pieces of art. but they're just not that good, interesting, appealing, watchable, or FUN. they were good at the time- I mean come on we all know them today- but on going back you'd have to really appreciate the finer details to still love the movies today. and this belongs there, in the vault, to be appreciated from afar. influential if dated.

but god am I still disappointed nonetheless.

TL;DR

it was just okay. had some good ideas, had some really bad ideas, had some ugly stuff. overall mediocre. first half 5/10, second half 7/10, overall 6/10.

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paubari · 4 years ago

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The main rules of the INTERNET is now FORGOTTEN by many

No, it ain’t rule 34.

*Disclaimer: This blog post is my opinion on the matter. If you have a different opinion on it, I respect it all the same.*

MABUHAY everyone and welcome back to my space on the internet.

Speaking of the internet, I really love the internet and at the same time I hate it. I mean, I think everyone can agree that the internet is a double edged sword. The internet gave us social spaces that connects people from around the world.

Though social media is oftentimes a bane on the lives of people, there is no denying it has done a lot of good.

Stemming from these websites are uhh the not so likable ilk but that’s the internet for you. Everyone has the right to do as they please in their corner as long as it isn’t illegal.

I remember spending a majority of my early days on the internet browsing sites like Miniclip or Y8, just playing flash games on end. Games like Fire Boy and Water Girl, Box Head Zombies, etc.

Growing up,I would also have computer classes in my school and they would give us warnings about the Do’s and Dont’s on the internet. Besides those classes, places like 9gag and (old) Facebook promoted these rules while I browsed em.

Basically it’s these

Just because it’s on the internet that doesn’t make it true.

Don’t trust people blindly.

Just because it’s on the internet, that doesn’t make it true.

9-11 was an inside job

Lizard People disguise themselves to rule the world

The Moon Landing was Faked

Vaccines causes Autism

The Earth is Flat

5G towers emit Harmful Radiation

As much as it’s FUN to make a meme out of all these, there is no way people would actually believe this bullshit right?

WRONG

Some of these tinfoil hat theories have been circulating the internet ever since it’s inception. People actually subscribe to these and think it’s real.

Take it with a grain of salt.

How come nobody uses that anymore? Not every information on the internet is a credible source. This type of thinking has done harm and will continue to do harm.

One well-known case is “The Slender Man Stabbing”

a tl;dr for the lazy ones out there, The Slender Man Stabbing happened in the Spring of 2014 when two 12-year old girls lured their friend into the forest and stabbed her 19 TIMES. For whatever reason you may ask? To appease Slender man. Yeah, to appease a fictional character.

Don’t give that bullshit about him being an Urban Legend or some shit. He was created as a submission in a Photoshop Competition back in 2009 for a comedy website called Something Awful. In their forum board they hosted a competition and the rest is history.

Don’t trust people on the internet blindly.

This is obvious for scammers but what about people under the guise of doing a good deed?

Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and sites like GoFundMe has made online begging or as I call it “E-begging” a trend. Admittedly E-begging is not a bad thing since some of it used for good things like cancer treatment or puppy meds but make no mistake, it’s begging. It’s not just charity, it’s begging and you shouldn’t have an ego when you beg. You’re asking for other people’s money when in the first place you are not entitled to their income. Just because they have an extra five or ten lying around doesn’t mean you deserve it for yourself.

It’s rare that E-beggars use the funds for malcontent and when it does it shows you how wary you should be of scams. Hell, not just e-beggars, it’s even someone offering you a job or an item at a lowered price only to cuck you by the end. Make no mistake, the world isn’t fair and if it wants you to taste dirt, it will.

One such case is a 20 year old teen from my home country aka Philippines. She fooled another Kpop fan and swindled her 10,000 Php (Philippine peso) under the guise of using it for her grandpa’s meds. Read the thread here

Another is the more recent 14-year old kid faking cancer. How do I know he faked it? He admitted to it.

All those people giving him awards must feel so stupid right now. I know I would!

I can go and on about crab mentality and mob mentality but you wouldn’t be reading my blog post if you’re one of those people. We promote individualism and self-thought here. None of that tribalism.

Sad to think that now, a random anon does an allegation and everybody suddenly believes them? People can give their 2 cents about a topic but by the end of the day FACT is different from FICTION. Why are all these people so blindly willing to give away their stuff and or money? Dopamine probably. They get a kick out of helping people and they feel like they’re a better person by doing so.

My advice? Grow up people. Fact check and do background checks. Do your homework about anything and everything. Don’t blindly trust people on the internet just because they like the same show. These people are still human.

Stay safe out there! Don’t forget to make something amazing~

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staryarn · 4 years ago

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Crab anon you entered this land, you ruined my crops you aimed at bee you stabbed shark anon? I must end you, but the meme is far too strong however will I manage

-🐬(an orca but excluded by emojis)

#asks #orca anon

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miniconsuffrage · 5 years ago

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Rampage gets his head put in a cone for stabbing dc with his horrible face

anon thank you. i put dogs and cats in cones every day at my job. now it is rampage’s turn.

Depth Charge had had enough.

He'd tried recharging in a different position. Rampage would just shift with him.

He'd tried moving Rampage when he was already asleep, but he'd move back minutes later, even while unconscious.

He'd tried putting a pillow barrier between Rampage's head and his. Rampage complained that he couldn't see Depth Charge anymore, and it would mysteriously disappear halfway through the recharge cycle.

He'd tried bending Rampage's facial spikes, so they weren't sticking out and likely to catch on things, but Rampage's body registered that as damage, and just healed them moments later.

The facts were, Rampage's head was so pointy it could be classified as a weapon all by itself, and Depth Charge was tired of getting stabbed when he was trying to recharge. It had been a minor inconvenience at first, but now it was too much. Because Rampage always wanted to recharge with him, and Depth Charge was never getting a full recharge cycle like this. Something had to change.

So, Depth Charge made a plan. He found materials, and he waited for night.

"The crab pond is going well," Rampage said as he climbed into the little makeshift bed they shared.

"I don't understand how you think a crab pond is going to work when crabs can just walk away," Depth Charge said. "You're wasting your time."

"Yes, they could walk away. It's all about making sure they don't want to," Rampage explained, unruffled. "Lay on me?"

Rampage liked the pressure when he recharged. Depth Charge had had to figure out on his own, since Rampage wasn't very good at communicating that type of thing. But tonight it would be helpful—he would need to be able to move around, which he wouldn't be able to do if Rampage was immobilizing one of his arms.

They settled in for the night, and Rampage drifted off easily. It hadn't always been like this, but the two of them had been out here together for a while now, and he'd come to trust Depth Charge. Which Depth Charge may very well be betraying in just a little bit, but he was just exhausted enough to not care.

He waited. Rampage needed to be good and knocked out before he tried anything. Otherwise he risked having a claw in his face rather than a couple of spikes, just on reflex. But eventually, Depth Charge decided the time was right. He shifted ever so slowly, so that he was lying on his side, and reached behind him to where he'd hidden a piece of sheet metal. It had taken a while to find exactly what he needed, but here it was, the perfect size and shape. All he'd needed to do was bend it into a conical shape.

Slowly, gently, he lifted Rampage's head, then slipped the piece of metal underneath, fastened the edges together, and...

It was done. Depth Charge leaned back to examine his handiwork. He could barely see Rampage's head over the cone. He looked ridiculous, but the pointy bits on his face were completely walled off, which meant it was a success.

Sighing in relief, Depth Charge settled in and went right into recharge, comforted with the fact that he would finally be able to sleep through the night.

And he did. It was fine. It was great, actually. Depth Charge woke up feeling rested and refreshed for the first time in he didn't know how long.

Rampage woke up and immediately fell off the bed.

Depth Charge was upright in a second. "What the pit?" he muttered, looking around for the cause of the noise.

Rampage was on the floor. He wasn't moving. His hands were frozen mid-air, and he was deathly-still.

"Rampage?" Depth Charge asked, alarmed now.

He grunted. So at least he was still alive. "Use your words," Depth Charge said. "What's wrong?"

"I can't... see," Rampage said, as if struggling to put the problem into words.

"If you stand up, I can help you with that," Depth Charge told him. He kept the tiniest hint of amusement out of his voice.

Rampage really did try. But, he caught the edge of the cone on the wall, which startled him enough that he jumped a few feet in the air and then ran right into another wall. Depth Charge tried to get his attention, but it was a lost cause—Rampage felt around frantically until he found the doorway, and disappeared into the other room.

Depth Charge sighed and got himself out of bed. He'd been planning to spend a little longer there, but it looked like that wasn't happening today.

He'd managed to make a huge mess of the other room in a very short amount of time. Seating had been overturned, items were knocked off the table, the energon converter had been turned on its side and a slow trickle of energon was running out of it and onto the floor.

"Rampage! Stop," Depth Charge ordered as he came very close to the door to the outside. If he ended up running around blind in the woods they'd settled down in, Depth charge might never find him. He'd probably find a river of lava and walk right into it.

Rampage froze, thankfully. "There's something wrong with me," he said, his voice anxious, and Depth Charge actually felt bad about that.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Depth Charge said, slow and calm. "You can't see because there's something covering your head."

"...what?" Rampage asked. His hands flew to his face and immediately smacked the cone, causing him to jump back in alarm. He felt around the surface of it, then put one hand above the edge and apparently had found the sense to look up, because Depth Charge watched him flex his fingers to examine them. "...huh."

The next moment, he gripped the thing and started to pull.

"If you'll just stand still—" Depth Charge started, but Rampage started unconsciously walking backwards in an effort to get the thing off. He bumped into a table and knocked it over, and then knocked himself over. Undeterred, he started flailing around, making it difficult for Depth Charge to get close to him, and he started kicking the things he'd knocked off the table in the process. Most of it was Rampage's, thankfully—Depth Charge kept his things safe and out of the way.

Losing patience, Depth Charge gently tackled Rampage and pinned his limbs to the floor so he couldn't cause any more damage. "Stop. Moving," he ordered.

Rampage finally did stop struggling, but Depth Charge could tell he was antsy about it.

"I'm going to take it off. Don't move," Depth Charge repeated. Slowly, he let Rampage's limbs go and sat up. When Rampage did not, in fact, move, Depth Charge reached for the cone, undid the clasps, and slipped it off.

Rampage took in the world around him with wide eyes, like he'd never seen it before. Finally, his gaze rested on Depth Charge, and on what was in his hand. "What is that?" he demanded. "Did you do that?"

"I literally did not have a choice," Depth Charge said. "I tried everything else. You gave me no choice."

Rampage pouted—or, made the expression Depth Charge had come to recognize as analogous to a pout—and made a swipe for the cone. He quickly yanked it out of Rampage's range.

"Depth Chaaaarge," he complained.

Depth Charge put one finger up. "It's this or I sleep somewhere else. Your choice," he said.

Rampage grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest, but didn't outright refuse. That was positive. "You can have time to think about it if you want," Depth Charge said.

"No," Rampage said indignantly.

Depth Charge chuckled, which—it always changed Rampage's attitude instantly, and that made Depth Charge feel a little weird. It had been a very long time since Depth Charge had genuinely laughed, but... he was getting there, whether he liked it or not.

"Good," Depth Charge said, and started to get up, but Rampage grabbed his arms and sat up so they were face-to-face.

"You're lucky I like you," he said, pressing his face to Depth Charge's. He thought he was being sneaky, trying to distract Depth Charge while carefully reaching behind his back...

Depth Charge moved the cone out of Rampage's range again, at the last second.

"Sure," Depth Charge said, finally getting to his feet. "You realize you wrecked the whole room, right?"

Rampage was lying flat on the floor again. "That was partly your fault."

"Which is why I'll help you clean it up. But I'm not doing all of it," Depth Charge said.

But first, he was going to hide this cone. Because if he didn't, there was no doubt it would mysteriously disappear.

#Anonymous #maccadam #rdc #rampage #depth charge #beast wars #beast era #tf #fic #requests

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trashfoundation · 5 years ago

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((ooc: smiley is denying that they were the one to introduce the dookieweenie thing and send the bees. these are the only falsehoods they are intentionally

Ggghhh. If the cat's out of the bag, then I need to make sure it lands on its feet. This is going to take more than the askbox character limit to answer, I can tell, so fuck it, submission box time. =/

#1: Fuck if I know, I think it's because he got attached.

Things will make more sense if I answer #3 before #2, so here goes.

You know how part of your motto is "well, at least we're not lolFoundation"? You were - he was - basically lolBright, except actually competent. Unfortunately, these were not mutually exclusive. He was also... hm. No, I'm not going to sugarcoat this. You were the one who wiped out the Groups of Interest. Take a moment to let that sink in. >=l

On to #2 part 1. Events took place that led to you questioning the secret. I say 'events' because I'm looking at the logs I backed up right now and I still can't figure out how things got from point A to point Z. 447 was involved, as were loose lips and an attempt at censorship that apparently just made things worse? =/

You decided to recruit Iceberg by dangling the promise of promotion in front of his nose in exchange for "restor[ing you] to the way [you were] before".

This is where the answers to #2 and #3 start mixing together.

Basically what happens next was, Iceberg snapped his fingers and granted the request without bothering to do any critical thinking.

Then you killed him.

Then you evicted Clef from reality.

Kondraki had the good fortune to be on the normal plane when shit started going down.

You started talking about 'bringing things back' to 'the way they were supposed to be'. This was the CK-class scenario everyone's been vagueing.

Then you posted this, and I'm just going to copy and paste it directly because it was so fucking off the wall:

Q: Yo, unbound bright. My dude. My pal. What do you mean by this canon’s beginning?

A: To put it in simple terms, it was less strict than most canons. I’m sure you know about one like this, I think it was the “lolfoundation”?

Like. What the fuck. =|

Apparently part of this "restoration" involved moving the Foundation back to the normal plane. As a matter of fact, this process apparently did not get halted when you got recontained! Whoop-de-do!

Somebody tried telling Kondraki something about one of the 001s. They were trying to riddle it up so you couldn't understand. Unfortunately, he couldn't understand either. I tried interpreting it myself and sending a different (way more obvious, let's be real) riddle - I hadn't actually started signing my asks yet, hence the lack of smiley. I don't know if it was actually correct to what the original anon was trying to say, but Kondraki got meaning out of it, so I guess it worked?

Then some other anon (totally not me, no matter how similar the speech patterns look, I swear!) decided it would be a good idea to tell you that 343 had called you - and I'm not making this up - a 'dookieweenie'. The intent here was probably to busy you with fighting him. Either you didn't actually get around to it or he just really sucked at defending himself.

Some other anon brought up TJ. This was the closest anyone got to stopping you just by talking.

Then someone else decided to surround the Chipotle with SRAs. Unforeseen side effect: apparently SRAs make anons melt with extended exposure. =/

Someone - I think the 001 riddle anon - gave Kondraki some kind of reality warping book.

Unfortunately, right after that, someone else (and here, I reiterate, this was definitely not me!!!) decided it would be a SPLENDID plan to send an ask full of hypothetical bees!

They were intended for you. Kondraki was the one who got them.

You thought this was hilarious. It wasn't.

Now, this next one I can actually corroborate with on-blog evidence - the post slipped the expungement net somehow.

/post/189708070156/, "pal". I encourage you to freshen yourself up on SCP-2578's file as you read this. Personally, I don't think you actually met all the criteria for being a -B at the time, but I can see how what you were planning would have counted for most of it. "Lolfoundation". Jesus fuck. >=l

While you were off fighting a giant crab satellite, somebody dropped an SRA in Kondraki's dumpster. Amazingly, this worked, and he was (mostly) de-bee'd. He wrote in the book.

Also, you were still answering asks while fighting 2578-D. This was probably a contributing factor to how it survived to send you another message an hour later. But I digress.

When you were "done", you decided enough was enough and forcefully relocated Kondraki back to the Foundation, where you'd been... busy.

You'd erased Glass's memories of anything being wrong. Probably everyone else's, too, but he was the one answering asks. He was fading. Losing his color, his very self! Being warped into someone else! D=<

Luckily, what Kondraki had written in the book kicked in before it was too late. (This involved him stabbing you. I've got nothing.) Clef got pulled back into reality. He fixed things.

#2 part 2: As far as I'm aware the official account of New Years' you were given is accurate, except for the fact that Kondraki was having a panic attack the entire time because you'd mentioned something about "new year, new me" just before 12/16.

In case said official account has slipped your mind, or they actually did feed you a lie and hope it would stick: you got drunk enough to nearly drown in a punch bowl. You may also have been on a residual high at this time - I don't know how regular weed works, much less 420-J. In your inebriated state, you decided it would be a splendid idea to pull the cover off 963 and try and foist it off onto Iceberg. He reacted predictably.

#4: As far as I can tell, that was indeed the plan they were going with. You and I are in agreement: that was stupid as hell.

#5: Either take a page out of SCP-086's book and voluntarily advocate for stricter containment on yourself, or try to use your abilities to remove your abilities.

And there you have it: one big fuckin' block of bad news. =P

---

#trashfoundation #long post #submission

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laws-hat-headcanons · 6 years ago

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If it isn’t too much trouble, I was wondering if you had any headcanons for ASL if their friend/crewmate was literally an alien? Like, a sort of uncanny valley one, where they can tell something’s sort of off but not quite what, since there’s such a broad range for “normal” on the Grand Line?

Hi Anon. So not gonna lie, this was an odd request because I have never considered Aliens in One Piece... but, I mean why not? So I sort of went with the Alien sort of knows how to act as a human but does some weird shit in situations they aren't sure about. I dont know. But it was a lot of fun!! Hope you like it!!!

Ace, Sabo and Luffy with a crew member/friend that they dont know is an alien.

Ace

. Ace knows there is something off about you, but you've never offered an explanation and he isn't one to pry.

. Still, you say and do some odd shit.

. Ace remembers one night when he found you on deck, lying face down on the wood.

. He thought you were hurt, passed out or something.

. But when he approached you were fine, just hanging out. Talking to the deck. Telling it about your day.

. He remembers when you made land on a new island and you commented on how the crabs weren't happy about your arrival.

. Or that time you got in to a fight with an old man because you were convinced he was hiding his true form.

. Still, you've never let him down in a fight and you always have his back.

. So even if you are a bit odd, he's happy to have you on the crew.

Sabo

. Sabo knows that most people that join the revolutionary army have some kind of background check.

. So he presumes at least Dragon knows about your origins.

. He's looked at your file, but it's pretty lacking.

. Still, Sabo likes you well enough

. He found it a bit odd the first time he met you and you had your fingers in a glass of water. Then started drinking it after you'd watched him do the same.

. Sometimes you use words really out of context or just... the complete wrong word for the situation.

. Then you laugh when it gets pointed out, but dont correct yourself.

. The first time he saw you fight you spent the first exchange of blows with your opponent, asking after his ailing aunt and if they had considered the medicinal benefits of the lions mane mushroom.

. He's watched you eat a lemon like an apple and not bat an eye lid.

Luffy

. Luffy thinks you're great.

. He loves how you dont know the word for 'frog' but can spend hours talking to Franky about the general workings of his many creations.

. Luffy likes when the two of you are talking about something and either one of you will go off on the most random tangent. But you always follow where he's going and he understands your run off too.

. He has never seen you bleed. Even after that time you got stabbed through the shoulder.

. Once saw you try and eat your fork instead of your dinner.

. Sometimes you stare at stuff for a really long time. Luffy will try to do the same but he's never managed to out stare you.

. Zoro is always wary of you, but he cant put his finger on why. Luffy gets the same off sort of feeling, but he thinks its exciting more than anything.

. Luffy likes that you always say yes to his plans. Not matter how crazy everyone else thinks it is.

. Thinks you have the best sense of style. It's almost like you just wear whatever happens to come in to contact with your hand first out of your wardrobe.

#one piece #op headcanons #one piece head canon #Ace #Sabo #Luffy #one piece imagines

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moonshadow-memes · 5 years ago

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Ok but which characters would you date? High five/four? Wrestle? Build a pillow fort with? Stab with a crab? Adopt?

Date: Gren, he seems like a super chill guy who would enjoy a Saturday date night at home eating pancakes for dinner watching pride and prejudice for the 30th time

High five/four: Amaya, she’d have a lot of reasons to high five with because she wins literally every fight so it’s gonna be OFTEN

Wrestle: Corvus? i dunno man every time i think of wrestling one of them i KNOW it will end up in a tickle fight and Corvus seems like the kinda person who would immediately submit when tickled 😂

Build a pillow fort with: Aaravos looks like he’d never made a pillow fort before, he’d enjoy the process and then i get to beat his stupid gorgeous face with a pillow and watch the shock and surprise in his eyes turn into mischievousness

Stab with a crab: Janai, we’d have grilled seafood for lunch

Adopt: Bait, that glow toad isnt getting the maximum amount of belly rubs that he deserves and i need to fix that

what about you, anon?

#tdp #the dragon prince #i love all the characters ok #there werent enough prompts for all of them #for example #i'd bake a cake for claudia #and give callum a haircut #i'd braid rayla's hair #and dress runaan's wounds even if they're gross #soren can use my phone charger but he has to give me his earbuds #meme-answers

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macchiatomingi · 6 years ago

Text

stranded pt. 1

Mini Pirate!ATEEZ.

In which Yunho crashes the ship and the boys are stranded off the random coast of some random continent. Shenanigans ensue.

It was hot. Too hot to dock the ship, but when Yunho ran it aground and nearly caused San to stab himself in the chest with a butcher knife, the heat wasn’t even taken into consideration.

A stream of questions escaped the mouths of the six boys beside you, while Hongjoong was scolding Yunho from the quarterdeck. You could hear the string of curses that left Hongjoong’s normally pure mouth from the main deck, and you were quite glad that you weren’t on the receiving end of the tongue lashing that Yunho was getting.

“I hope he doesn’t mention that it was a dare,” Mingi starts.

“I’m sure he-”

“Song Mingi! Jung Wooyoung! Choi Jongho!” Hongjoong cuts in, face red from contained anger, “what the hell did you three think you were doing? Daring Yunho to take hold of the steering wheel?” He screamed, even from the distance you were at you didn’t fail to notice the vein that popped out while he was screaming.

The three stooges in question stiffened at your side, the blood draining from their faces as the captain marched his way down to where they were standing. It was a sight to behold, Hongjoong, as tiny as he is, was deadly. He had no issues with shooting through half a crew with his musket, and using his cutlass to chop down the other half, single-handedly. The entire crew was slightly terrified of the man, his baby face and doe eyes meant nothing to them as they knew it was all an act.

You quickly scurried over to Yeosang, who was standing slack-jawed at the sight unfolding before him. You had only been on the ship for a few months, having your freedom from your previous masters bought in a previous port city, you took to the seven seas with the novice pirate gang ATEEZ as they, as Yunho said, ‘sailed the seas, but just as bros.’

“He’s mad,” Yeosang starts, voice quiet and soft, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the captain like this; not even when San accidentally tore a hole in his favorite coat.”

“He’s...probably going to calm down soon?”

“He will,” Seonghwa starts taking a few cautious steps forward to place a brotherly hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder, “Hongjoong-ie, maybe you shouldn’t be too hard on them.”

“Too hard? Too hard?! They drove the ship ashore! We’re stranded on an island that people don’t even know exist? Who knows what could be here,” Hongjoong starts, turning to Seonghwa with a look of red fury in his eyes, “There could be wild animals that nobody knows exists! There could be foreign plants that are deadly and nobody knows the cure for! There could be-”

“There could be treasures beyond our wildest dreams,” Seonghwa cut in, making Hongjoong’s eyes go wide with realization, “we’re pirates. This is something that could be beneficial to us.”

Silence consumed the deck. Seonghwa was right, and Hongjoong said nothing to him, Yunho, Wooyoung, Jongho, or Mingi, and just instructed you and San to work on lowering the gangplank.

Which is how you got to your current situation; tending to San’s sprained ankle while Jongho rolls in laughter at Mingi clinging to your back like a koala. San had tripped after getting his foot caught on a conveniently placed stone and landed incorrectly in the sand, which caused Jongho to laugh at seeing San sputter out sand as if he tasted a foul soup. Mingi was...afraid of a crab.

A single crab.

“It has too many legs,” he whimpered, burying his face into your back, “why does an animal need eight legs...?”

“Just wait until he hears about centipedes,” Jongho joked, nearly causing Mingi to burst your eardrums with a shrill scream.

The day went on with San being carried by Jongho to gather materials for food, Mingi never leaving your, or Yunho’s side, Yeosang and Seonghwa working to make a map of the island to ease Hongjoong’s seething rage, and Wooyoung off in the forest to (hopefully) find meat.

Your only solace was knowing that the faster you all got to the center of this godawful island, the faster you all would be able to get off of it. You only hoped that the day the Promise hits the seas can come soon; you really don’t know how much longer you can take Mingi’s vice grip on your arm.

~~~~~~

I guess this is gonna be a small crack series. Totally random, no plan, just me writing until I decide that I’ve made these boys (and the reader) suffer enough on the Mystery Island and make them high-tail it back to the ocean.

Shout out to🍁 anon for asking me who I thought would survive, and then mentioning how funny it would be, thus inspiring me to write this little mini-series :’)

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addictedtostorytelling · 7 years ago

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I would have loved a scene in 7x13 where the others ask Sara how she knows where Grissom hides his keys and she has to hastily come up with some innocent explanation.

your fic is my command, anon.

__________

the key to gsr (or “four times sara lied about knowing where grissom hides his key and one time she didn’t”)

******

two days pass before anyone brings it up.

specifically, before greg brings it up.

they’re in the locker room. greg is sitting on the bench, unlacing his work boots. sara is gathering up her towel and soap so she can hit the showers. they both smell like rotting fish, courtesy of the case they just closed: double-homicide in the alley behind an off-strip sushi bar; stabbing by shobu-bocho.

“how did you know where grissom had it hidden?” greg asks, apropos of nothing. he doesn’t bother to look up at her.

immediately, her internal temperature rises, heat gathering at the back of her neck and on her cheeks.

she knows: greg is talking about grissom’s key, the one she stole so that she could break into the temporary evidence locker and seize the materials from what ultimately proved to be the simon case.

they were all in it together: sara, greg, nick, and warrick. catherine and the new guy keppler had been acting screwy with them and maybe even doctoring evidence, so they decided to get to the bottom of things, banding together to form a counter-investigation.

on the night when everything went down, their little coalition was so focused on uncovering what catherine and keppler were up to that their curiosity concerning everything else fell by the wayside. no one had bothered to wonder how or why sara knew the exact location of grissom’s key in his office; sara had just volunteered the information that she could supply it, and the boys had gone along with the plan.

she’s not sure what’s caused greg to circle back to the issue now, but, dammit, because she doesn’t have an explanation prepared in advance.

she tries playing dumb. stalling. “had, uh—had what hidden?”

greg smirks. “you know: his boss-man key! i mean, his office is such a mad scientist lair that half the time i don’t think even he can find stuff in there, so how the heck did you know where to look?”

of course, greg couldn’t be more wrong about grissom not knowing where to find things in his office: for as chaotic as his workspace may appear to someone who doesn’t know the system, there is most definitely a system, an almost taxonomic one; he’s the same way at home.

of course, sara can’t correct greg’s misconception.

right now, she is all about plausible deniability.

she scrambles. lies. “oh, uh, i didn’t, really. i just figured it must be somewhere in his office, so i started looking through his cupboards, and, uh, there it was.”

it’s not an entirely unbelievable claim in itself, but her delivery is bad, too stammering and flustered. greg picks up on her flightiness right away. he quirks an eyebrow.

“just sitting on top?”

“well, uh, no. i had to, um, dig around a bit.”

“and no one saw you?”

“no.”

greg’s expression turns mischievous. “well, besides the key, did you find anything else in there that was good?”

“huh?”

“did you find where he keeps his porn?”

her reaction is visceral. “god, no!”

greg shakes his head. “too bad. you know, i bet he’s into some really weird stuff. i once saw this thing with like a squid and a—”

sara puts up a hand, halting greg mid-sentence. “you know what? i can’t handle any more fish tonight, so i think i’m gonna just hop in the shower and scrub the imitation crab out from under my fingernails.”

greg pouts. “you’re no fun.”

“and you,” sara parries, “have got nori in your hair.”

******

ii.

after her talk with greg, sara hopes she’s done having to explain about the key, but apparently the universe has other plans for her.

she’s in the break room after her shower, nursing a cup of coffee and picking at a cherry danish while her hair dries. nick sits across from her at the table, reading a case file.

they’ve both been silent for a long time when out of nowhere, nick says, “if we hadn’t figured it all out on our own, do you think she would have ever come clean to us?” he sets the file down on the table and stares at sara, a deep furrow in his brow.

he’s talking about catherine and the reverse forensics.

out of everyone, he’s the one taking what’s happened the hardest, though sara certainly has her conflicted feelings, too. keppler doesn’t really know any of them, so the fact that he didn’t trust their discretion is understandable, if regrettable. but catherine is another story. part of sara wants to hold her accountable for working around the team, because they’re all supposed to have one another’s backs, but part of sara wants to forgive her, understanding that sometimes keeping secrets is inevitable.

“i dunno,” she says.

nick shakes his head, scowling. “man, i just keep thinking about how hard she had to work to keep us out—how we had to waste all that time breaking into cars and stealing a key when we coulda been out there arresting simon.”

“yeah,” sara says, staying in the realm of monosyllables to avoid outright hypocrisy.

nick nods vaguely and stares off, thinking hard thoughts to himself. silence reblankets the room, and sara considers setting her danish aside and getting back to work.

then.

“where did you even get grissom’s key from anyway?” nick asks out of nowhere.

his question catches sara off-guard, just like greg’s did before.

her internal temperature rises.

“oh, uh,” she fumbles, pulling a lie out of the air, “back when you guys were, um, working swing, there was this time when grissom was on a solo callout, and greg and i needed something out of temporary evidence, but, uh, sofia didn’t have her supervisor key anymore, and, um, catherine wasn’t around, so i called grissom, and he told me where he kept his key ring. he’s got this, uh, little safe in one of his cabinets.” it’s a long story, rambling and with lots of contingencies; a precarious lie. “lucky for us, he’s such a creature of habit. he hasn’t changed the combo in years.” she forces a smile, some jocularity, hoping to god nick buys what she’s selling.

“yeah,” he says. “lucky for us, grissom trusts you.”

he has no idea.

“yeah,” she parrots. “lucky.”

******

iii.

she’s still thinking about nick and the ethical implications of her living situation when a third conversation about the key creeps up on her.

literally.

she’s picked up a b&e case with warrick, and they’re in the layout room looking over the blueprints for the house that was hit, trying to determine a most likely ingress point.

a voice speaks from just behind them.

“you’ll be interested to know that the particles you recovered from the window sill are actually a biological compound. they carry a unique chemical signature: 4-methyl-3-heptanone, dodecyl-acetate, 3-undecanone—”

hodges.

they turn to face him, warrick cutting him off before he can really get going.

“so what biological compound is it?”

hodges couldn’t look smugger. “well, if you had read the march 2006 edition of the journal of american insect science, which contains an article entitled ‘physical qualities of invasive halyomorpha halys,’ written by one gil grissom, phd, you would know that you were dealing with the brown marmorated stink bug, which is not only nonindigenous to the united states but also hasn’t been previously documented in nevada.”

sara has actually read grissom’s article—proofread it for himbefore he responded to the cfp, actually—but she’s not about to say as much.

hodges goes on. “the bugs were first documented inpennsylvania in 2001, and they’ve been moving steadily westward ever since,though they’ve mostly stuck to northerly agricultural and forested areas, asthey prefer to live in tree fruit, vegetables, shade trees, and leguminouscrops.”

warrick nods. “so either the bugs decided to brave themojave desert, or else someone brought them here by design.”

“correct,” hodges says. he hands his printed report over towarrick and starts to leave the room, but halfway out the door, he stops andturns back. he affects a pensive look, stroking his chin to suggest deep thought. “you know,” he faux-muses, “you may want to call grissom; his expertisein this area would be invaluable, especially for two entomology neophytes likeyourselves.”

he lands the barb and retreats before anyone can launch a volley back.

warrick and sara share an incredulous look.

“wow,” warrick says.

sara shakes her head. “how much do you wanna bet hodges has called grissom at least once since he’s been on sabbatical?”

“at least twice,” warrick raises, and he and sara both laugh. then. a new thought seems to strikes him. he nods and cocks his head to one side, regarding her, stroking his thumb beneath his bottom lip once, twice. “say, sara, when’d you figure out where grissom hides his key?”

“what?”

he clarifies. “i guess these last few days, i’ve just been going over everything in my mind, and that’s the one thing i can’t figure. you went into that office, got that key, and got out in—what?—less than a minute? see, to me, that says you knew exactly where you were going before you even got in the room.” he raises his eyebrows at her. “so how did you know where to find it? ‘cause no one’s supposed to have access to the master key except the shift supervisor.”

sara’s internal temperature rises.

spikes, really.

she swallows. reaches. “but, uh, the assistant shift supervisor can know, too, and, uh, while catherine was in charge of swing, we didn’t have an official assistant supervisor on grave, and there were times when grissom needed help with things—”

“—so he bent the rules and showed you where to find his key if you ever needed to get into the locker,” warrick infers.

“right. there’s this specimen jar he’s got on a top shelf. he keeps it taped to the bottom.” she shrugs one shoulder, downplaying. “i mean, i’m sure he told sofia, too.”

“but not greg.”

a smile. “no, not greg.”

“—and definitely not hodges, even though he’d love to know.”

lots of head-shaking. “no, no, definitely not.”

******

iv.

when the time to clock out finally comes, relief washes over sara in droves. no more questions about the key or her weirdly specific knowledge of grissom’s office organization. no more inferences about her and grissom’s relationship. she can just go home to the dog and the book she’s been reading, get some sleep, and start fresh again when she wakes up, no more pressure.

except that there is more pressure.

she’s headed for the door, bag slung over her shoulder, when catherine jogs up beside her.

“sara! glad i caught you.” they both slow to a stop beside the reception desk. catherine extends sara a packet of papers. “i meant to grab you earlier,” she says, apologetic, “but, uh, the sheriff wants a full report on the reverse forensics operation so we can be ahead of the defense once the case goes to trial. he’s requested a detailed, down-to-the-minute timeline, so i need you to take these forms home and have them filled in by next shift.”

sara has already completed her case notes from the night in question, but considering the heft of the packet, the sheriff obviously wants a much more thorough explanation.

great.

she brings the packet back to the condo, as directed, but procrastinates filling it out. instead, she takes hank for a walk, eats, reads a couple of chapters in her book, showers again, and changes into one of grissom’s old sweatshirts—because ever since he’s been in massachusetts she’s been missing his smell—only getting around to the assignment come afternoon, right before she goes to bed.

she quickly discovers that in addition to featuring a fill-in-the-blanks timeline, the packet also contains some short-answer response questions, in all likelihood composed by catherine.

describing the first part of the investigation is easy enough to do because, initially, the death of monique carter didn’t seem to be connected to the simon case. but then sara gets to the point in the night where she and the boys decided to go rogue, and the prose becomes harder to produce, especially when she tries to explain the part about the damn key.

she doesn’t want to get grissom into trouble by insinuating that he left his key out in the open for the taking, but she also doesn’t want to suggest that she busted locks to get what she needed.

it is in both of their best interests for her to claim that she stumbled upon the key by accident, though it was otherwise well-concealed.

she hems over the worksheet for a long time, internal temperature rising by the minute, until, ultimately, she resorts to a passive voice lie to downplay culpability: “12:02am: sup. grissom’s office was entered in search of text resources to use in investigation. secure location of key discovered in search for correct book.”

she doesn’t elaborate.

******

two and a half more weeks pass before anyone brings it up again.

this time, the someone is grissom.

they’re sitting in bed now that he’s back from sabbatical. she’s finished her old book and started a new one. he’s poring over reports from when he was gone—specifically all the paperwork related to keppler. hank sleeps at the foot of the mattress, snoring slightly, his head rested on his paws.

the room has been silent for a while when grissom chuckles to himself.

the sound catches sara off-guard.

“what?”

grissom peers at her over the frames of his reading glasses. “you stole my key?” he asks. he quirks a playful eyebrow at her, challenging her to refute the accusation.

“technically, i borrowed it,” she says. she marks her page and sets her book aside on the nightstand, then leans over to see what grissom is looking at: a xerox copy of her timeline packet, passive voice and all.

“i don’t keep it on my bookshelf,” grissom notes, still amused. he takes advantage of her proximity and plants a quick kiss in her hair.

“no, you don’t.”

“i keep it in my desk.”

“right.”

“—which is something i don’t think i’ve ever shown you.”

“you haven’t.”

“oh?”

she returns his kiss, pressing her lips against his temple just above his beard. his skin is warm and smells like what she’s been missing for the last four weeks. she tells him the truth that she’s told no one else.

“we were working that case—the crucifixion at the church?—a few months back, and you’d gotten out your mother’s rosary beads to check the ligature marks on the victim’s neck. after you were done making your comparisons, i was talking to you in your office, and you went to put them away. you had to take the skull out of your desk drawer to get the box back in place, and i, uh, saw the key there underneath. i didn’t mean to commit where you kept it to memory, but, uh—”

grissom nods, getting it. “memory is a gift.”

his expression is unreadable, so sara has to ask. “are you mad at me for, uh, going through your things?”

grissom shakes his head no and opens up his arm, gesturing for her to lie down at his side, her head rested at his shoulder, which she does. he kisses her hair again. “as a criminalist, you have a responsibility to uncover the truth in your investigations, and you used whatever resources you could in order to do that. normally, i don’t condone taking things out of other people’s desks without permission, but in this case, the ends justified the means.”

sara doesn’t always believe that the ends justify the means, but in this context she can. she does. she hums her agreement, and grissom sets his paperwork on his nightstand before wrapping his arms fully around her, holding her tight. her eyes flutter shut as she listens to his heartbeat through his chest.

she missed him so much while he was gone.

after a few seconds, she asks, “are you going to find a new hiding place for it? your key, i mean?”

“well, did you tell anyone else where i really keep it?”

“uh, no. not actually.”

“then, no. i trust you.”

her internal temperature rises, heat blooming over her skin, again, wonderful this time.

#csi #csi cbs #gsr #gil grissom #sara sidle #sara x grissom #otp: gsr #greg sanders #nick stokes #warrick brown #catherine willows #hank the dog #**#my fic #asks: csi #answered #anon #let's talk shop #csiverse

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yellingatair · 8 years ago

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🔪🔪🔪 stabity stab here comes the crab🔪🔪 🔪

Omggggg ilysm anon

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spirits-and-scales · 6 years ago

Text

The anonymous watched with a startled expression as the crab had what they could only equate to a 'temper tantrum' for lack of a better term. Of course, they realized there was more to it than that.

Her rage and pain and sadness in all their intensity had the entire area drowning in negativity. The last of the smaller monsters had run off in a panic and the anon had enough energy stored to attempt a physical form if they wanted. But something about the energy from her rampage was beginning to give them a feeling of sharp pinpricks like an unidentified illness... And the longer they listened the worse it became.

And then when she turned back looking utterly hopeless, those pinpricks seemed to turn into a collective stabbing ache.

They had never witnessed someone fall apart so completely that they were ready to die for no apparent cause. And she was practically begging for it.

Was this what their race really drove others to do? Just...give up living? Of all the devastation the clan had spread, that was a concept none of them had ever experienced.

Something inside them was horrified. And though they refused to show it, something else was beginning to take shape as everything sunk in....

It definitely seemed a lot like guilt. Any bet would say that was another thing their clanmates hadn't experienced nerve. Except maybe a traitor....

.... ........

With a quiet exhale the anonymous resisted the urge to run a hand over their face. Instead they averted her gaze, folding an arm over their chest and clearing their throat into their loosely clenched fist. And, after what seemed like a long while, they spoke up in a softer tone as it the distraught crab hadn't lost composure before their very eyes.

"First of all," they started. "I see I've upset you....my apologies."

They reclined as if sitting in midair with their knees crossed. "Second, dearie....I'm afraid you're mistaken. I am the farthest thing from any kind of god." She was, well, painfully honest with them. The least they could do was return the favor.

"What I am, is a chaos demon." After a pause they added, "So as far as beings.....undesirable to others...we appear to have that much in common."

Oh ho ho, she was just getting started!

Thinking that she was going to die and that she was upset to begin with, Harakore decided to not hold back. The last couple of weeks were stressful, so her anger spiked up and inflated slowly like a balloon.

She started going off on her dislikes, all the other crabs who were disgusted of her, big brother Tupu who was once happy and supportive until he did a 180 and became controlling once he learned the truth, and the thought process of her fate and how other parasites might view her. She seemed to pace around the Anonymous and cursed in crabspeak in between.

“And you know the worst part? Sometimes, I feel like doing something bad. Like becoming the parasite everyone thinks I am! Letting my offspring possess every crustacean in Lalotai and beyond! Sometimes, I feel like giving my brother a barnacle, so he’d feel what I had to go through! I just don’t know what to do anymore! Should I live? Should I die? It’s a vicious cycle and I don’t know what to do! Sure, I now have two mates and some people who seem to care, but who knows how long that would last? Urrrrgh! I’m so angry, I could just-!”

With a snarl, the 25 foot tall crab raised her pincers and punched the nearest rocks and coral, snarling and screaming as she pounded anything nearby into rubble. If she were human, this would be similar to someone punching their pillow or throwing stuff around.

A minute or two later, Harakore panted heavily as her eyes glowed and her armor was covered in dust. Her eyes started to tint blue, letting out a sob or two. Okay maybe a few more sobs. She walked back to the Anonymous, seeming so exhausted and defeated.

“I’m sorry… it just came out. I don’t really know who or what you are, but you seem so powerful. I could feel it. You’re like a shadow god or shadow demigod or something, right? If you’re gonna kill me, kill me now! Hell, eat me if you dare! My only request is that you spare my mates Kaitiaki and Itoito. Please!” She held her arms out wide, her bloodshot eyes making contact with theirs.

#subukunojess #Harakore #Anonymous #Chaos Clan #Divide and Conquer

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