#the only thing i know for real

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Since it has musical numbers that swell and echo the emotional beats and action moments on the screen, Metal Gear  Rising: Revengeance is technically a musical and therefore is eligible to be produced on Broadway. In this essay I will-

[tuxado]

Now hear me out..

Just getting some ideas..

Very stupid IK

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Memories broken, the truth goes unspoken, I've even forgotten my name!

Just imagine it's murasama instead of a cane

[mgs-vocal-song-tourney]

THIRD PLACE MATCH

Featuring the losers of each semifinal, which are:

"The Only Thing I Know for Real" from Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance

VERSUS

"The Man Who Sold the World" from Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain

PROPAGANDA

The Only Thing I Know for Real:

The Man Who Sold the World:

[bunny-brawler]

This is unironically hilarious and epic at the same time.

[internet-goblin]

The thing that I believe speaks the most about the quality of Metal Gear Rising OST is the amount of extremely talented people that tried and failed to ruin it. How many games do you know that had its soundtrack as mangled as MGR? Entire OST played on a kazoo, changing every single word of the song to just "Shed", skipping every other beat, randomly adding splices from other songs and sound glitches, taking out words so it sounds like the boss has dementia, changing the lyrics so that Jetstream Sam is now a Wheelchair Sam... Some of these attempts at ruining the OST even improved it.

[rook-specter]

have I ever shared this before

[lousycamper]

There Will Be (Were) Giants

Chapter 1. The Marksman?

He doesn't remember.

His yellow eyes narrow, while he aims his trusty rifle. He shoots something – what? – and gets to the next thing. Works alongside some...one – who? – who has enough raw power to snap him in two like a toothpick and leave a trail of frost and corpses in their wake. He remembers nothing else, except of a feeling of morbid fascination and sounds of gunshots echoing all around.

He doesn't remember, and, as far as he concerned, he can't. Each time he starts asking himself these questions, it leaves him with nothing but a head-splitting migraines. So he stops, untill the pain goes away. It gnaws and eats at him, that he can't recall anything at all beyond those snippets. He tries his best to ignore this feeling of irrational guilt. It's hard, because there's not much to keep his mind occupied.

He wanders around the seemingly broken world with nearly nothing on his person, except for a slightly torn wide-brimmed hat, a fairly tattered but still wearable poncho, a slightly singed set of clothes, and a very familiar, despite being partially splintered, weapon. It actually hurts to see this familiar rifle in his hands damaged so badly, that it renders it nearly completely useless. It actually causes something inside of him to twist and cause pain. It's just... He probably could shoot it fairly well, but he isn't really sure that he can fix it.

He survives off what he can get when he can get it. Berries, roots... Sometimes, when he's particularly lucky, it's meat of some twisted creature, caught in a makeshift trap. He sleeps when he can find shelter, usually below trees or in caverns. He drinks from streams, boiling water when he can. This is how he learns, that his survivalist skills aren't nonexistent, although they are nothing spectacular.

He bandages three of five his eyes as well as he can, with bandages made out of torn off parts of his clothes. The ugly wound that mars a better half of his face begins to scab, becoming a scar. Somehow, his strange luck makes it so he didn't lose his eyes. He's endlessly thankful for that, because his eyesight is mostly the thing that saves him these days. The realm he's inside of has no shortages of various beasts or disasters to throw his way. Even though with two eyes he can see fairly well too, it's the other three that help him really pick out details on further distances and see much better in the dark. His face wound still heals, forcing him to bandage himself, but he still can see through the gaps in between wraps, always staying vigilant.

If he spots danger, he runs away, because there is simply no way for him to take on any one of encountered monstrosities in a fight. He doesn't stay in one place for long either. Not that he has any particular destination in mind, but camps attract attention, and he wants none of that. He feels like there's enough of it concentrated at him already, from all the creatures here. All the eyes... He's got trouble sleeping, and that's an understatement. Maybe that's why he has these migraines and hallucinations...

Sometimes it's a pipsqueak of some sort, in clothes with tears from claws and teeth, staring at him with his only good eye. Sometimes it's a hulking giant figure, partially covered in beaten and worn metal armor. Another one looks like a kid with spidery legs made of spiky vines and treeroots, sprouting all kinds of leaves and mushrooms as something that looks like a hooded cloak. The fourth is actually fancy, with his clothes looking akin to a rich pirate captain, but this one slowly crumbles into dust before his eyes. And the last one, the only woman among them, even though tough and brutish, looks like she had something searing-hot explode her into pieces, and then was sewn back together. Whoever did that, wanted it to hurt as much as possible, because the stitches were ugly and very much poorly-done. She wore a hat, made of a head of a wild boar, and both she and the dead hog looked at him. Thinking of them made his head hurt again.

Even more disturbing was that he had the same stitches as that woman. Gruesome, visible and stretching along all of his body. He couldn't help, but see some sort of connection between them, despite her being his hallucination and making his migraines spike.

That's the reason for his reaction to actually seeing another someone, not something, alive... Is both disbelief and relief. The fact that he can see them with his limited vision is so relieving, that his knees nearly buckle. Nearly. He regains his composure, a bit suspicious yet, while making his way to the... Man? He shouts at them, using his trusty gun as a prop to hold himself upright – he feels worn after long hours of trekking through the torn-apart world. He waves his hand at the person and can't help but smile. It's gonna be alright. He found somebody!

He is met with a look of shock and bewilderment on other man's vaguely familiar angled redish face, partially hidden under the wide-brimmed hat. Two yellow eyes look at him with a mix of interest and disbelief. The instrument in his hands, something that looks like a guitar, but isn't a guitar, lays forgotten, as a man stands from his place at the encampment, his dark clothed sillhouette a stark contrast on the unkept background of the surrounding world.

— Marksman?.. Is that you?

He stops himself, now only a few paces from the man. His throat hurts, because shouting after who-knows-how-long of not speaking to anyone would do that to you, of course. So, he opts to instead tilt his head quizzically, while looking at the known-unknown musician.

Is he? Isn't he? Who is this Marksman?

(Look me up on ao3, there might be more stuff you'd like)

[bobbyzombiegg]

@ferno-does-random-shit HOLY SHIT THE GUY WHO SANG THE ONLY THING I KNOW FOR REAL DID A COVER OF WHEELCHAIR SAM Wheelchair Sam - YouTube

[veetri-bitcrush]

It's MGR:R launch anniversary week, also my birthday week, so I feel like I gotta do something about it. I promise I'm working on a bunch of big things. But for now, I'll just repost this one again.

[maeshelix]

You know if you think about it, the song "The Only Thing I Know For Real" can be used to describe how Sunny is, if you edit it a bit

"Memories broken, the truth goes unspoken"

* He knows what he has done

"I've even forgotten my name"

* Sunny starts to forget who he is even anymore

"I don't know the season or what is the reason"

* He doesn't even know why he is still living

"I'm standing here holding my blade"

* Contemplating about suicide?

"A desolate place (place)"

* His now lonely house

"Without any trace (trace)"

* No more trace of Mari

"It's only the cold wind I feel"

* The only thing accompanying him in his house now

"It's me that I spite as I stand up and fight"

* He hates himself from what he has done

"The only thing I know for real"

* Sunny knowing of what he’s done

“There will be Bloodshed”

* Omori stabbing himself to wake Sunny up

“The man in the mirror nods his head”

* Omori himself

“The only one left”

and

“Will ride upon the dragons back”

* Sunny and Omori fighting for control

“Because the mountains don’t give back what they take”

* The death of Mari and Sunny unable to bring her back

“Oh no there will be Bloodshed (Blood) Shed (Shed)”

* Again, Omori stabbing himself

“Losing my identity”

* Sunny struggling with his identity over himself and Omori

“Wondering have I gone insane”

* Sunny and his mental state after Mari’s death

“The find the truth in front of me I must climb this mountain range”

* Sunny going to confront and confess the truth to his friends

“Looking downward from this deadly height”

* Sunny knowing the impact on his friends if he tells them the truth

“Never realizing why I fight”

* Sunny knowing that he must tell the truth

[foulfirerebel]

And cue The Song.

image found while on google images ©

[bacchuschucklefuck]

no more fan-ta-sizing about it! everything's already changed~

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

The stewards of the old world are always keen to give you a glimpse of their might... According to legend, the ancients built specialized chambers to seal away false prophets.

The Arcane is waking up.

[mgs-vocal-song-tourney]

WINNERS' BRACKET SEMI-FINALS

"The Only Thing I Know for Real" from Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance

VERSUS

"Snake Eater" from Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater

PROPAGANDA

The Only Thing I Know for Real:

Snake Eater:

[egophiliac]

time for skeleman

with the lack of any other info yet, all I can focus on are those Charles Lloyd-looking sunglasses. they are absolutely sending me. I feel like we're gonna fall through a tree or whatever and this stitched-up boney gentleman is gonna pop out from behind a gravestone and start serenading us with some smooth jazz on the saxophone.

or should I say...the saxoBONE???????