#what in the actual fuck loot crate

[genericpuff]

All That Glitters is Not Feminism - An Analysis of LO's Brand of "Feminism" and What Remains of its Fanbase (The Twist)

Alright y'all, I've been waiting a hot minute to talk about this because I wanted to see how it fully panned out before saying anything about it. And it's not even specifically about LO, but I do think it's very adjacent to it in a way that I'm sure you'll be shocked to hear. Much of it speaks to how we prop up white writers even at the expense of POC.

This is 'the twist' attached to my first post that I made just a couple hours ago that concerns an entirely other topic but I feel ties into this subject very well.

If you haven't heard, there's this author who recently fucked around in the Del Rey publishing scene.

Her name is Cait Corrain.

In the original tweet calling this person out, names were not dropped, but it was made very clear that what Cait did was unacceptable behavior.

You can read the entire thread that started it all from Xiran here:

There's also a GREAT recap thread from one of the affected authors, Bethany Baptiste:

I want to make it clear that Cait Corrain isn't just a debut author.

Cait Corrain is - or now, was (foreshadowing is a literary device that-) - a debut author who had an agent, a publishing deal with Del Rey (an imprint of Random House which is a MAJOR publisher) and even an upcoming Illumicrate deal - meaning, her book was going to be packaged in a monthly loot crate subscription shipped directly to people's doors, quite possibly one of the best marketing deals a debut author could ever get, usually unheard of in this industry. All the pre-reviews were strong and positive.

Cait's book was literally set up for success. All she had to do was sit back, relax, and watch the fruits of her labors roll in. She had written the book. It was ready for release. The hard part was technically over.

But I guess the racism brainrot got to her because as it turns out, since April - for EIGHT MONTHS - she's been making alternate accounts on GoodReads to review bomb the indie and debut works of her friends and peers, most of whom were POC and did not have the same opportunities set up for them as she did. There are loads of receipts to back this up that you can find in those above threads ^^^

To say that this is appalling is an understatement. This was an intentional and deliberate act of racism by a white queer writer who claimed to be "jealous" - of what, I can't imagine - so much so that she deliberately sabotaged her peers, people who had supported her and her book.

And then when she got caught? She doubled down on it and claimed it was a "friend", also an alternate account she made up.

The exchange between her and this made-up person is actually the funniest shit out of this entire thing, it's so poorly written and as soon as people noticed the time stamps were out of order, that was when it truly cemented her newfound clown status.

"oooooh he's standing right behind me, isn't he?" energy right here LMAO

yes keep expositing cait, that's really selling the "this is a genuine conversation that really happened with a real person" bit 🤡

Anyways, it became abundantly clear that Cait was just going to continue to dig her heels in over something she caused.

This has been a hot topic in the UnpopularLO Discord, not just because of how crazy of a situation it is that we had to talk about it - and we have people within the community who work in the literature and media sector - but because we noticed one very telling thing in the list of series that she had review bombed in her very own personal act of wrath.

You see, Cait made one fundamental mistake that led to her undoing - she didn't just review bomb the works of her peers, she positively reviewed her own book and others.

What's her book about though?

It's an Ariadne x Dionysus retelling set in space.

It's literally another "modern retelling" of Greek myth.

And wouldn't you know it, guess who else created a modern retelling of Greek myth that she included in her positive review raiding while she was sabotaging the work of her actual peers?

Now, I think it goes without saying that what I'm about to say should be taken with MOUNTAINS of salt, I'm sure a lot of you are reading the headline and going, "Ugh, really? You're gonna make this about LO? Could you give it a rest already???"

I need you to understand, with the current state of Rachel's fanbase and 'modern' Greek myth literature as a whole, at this point Lore Olympus - and the works that are literally inspired by it such as A Touch of Darkness - has basically become the shopping cart litmus test of basic decency. It's like when someone says they like Harry Potter - you can't take it automatically at good faith anymore, because there isn't a whole lot separating someone who simply liked Harry Potter as a kid and still rewatches the movies from time to time from someone who fully supports the politics and agenda of J.K. Rowling. No, not everyone who still watches the movies or reads the books fondly is a TERF by default, but it's justifiably a reason for suspicion when the consequences are often too dire to risk.

There's this thing that's been happening in the LO fanbase that I frankly saw coming, but has really recently started to hit its peak. It's what I call the "Kanye Effect", where the comic has become so absurd and backwards in its misogyny and white feminism that the only people who seem to be left supporting LO are the people who are legitimate white feminists and misogynists - because all the normal level-headed people fell off the comic ages ago (or transitioned into the critical side of the community).

I mentioned it in my last post, but it bears repeating - Rachel's fanbase has literally been shipping Hera, a victim of abuse, with her abuser, Kronos. I'm really hoping a lot of them realize how fucked up that is now that Hera herself has called it what it is - abuse - within the comic, but I also can't count on the LO fanbase picking up on that or even noticing it with how quickly people swipe through it each week, it's very apparent at this point that most of LO's readers don't know how to chew their food and don't pay attention when Persephone and Hades aren't onscreen.

But I'm digressing. Or am I? We're talking about Crown of Starlight after all. The debut Dionysus x Ariadne sci-fi/fantasy romance that was quite literally advertised using Lore Olympus as its baseline-

This. This is what the ongoing cultural erasure and white feminist uwu-fication of Greek myth is doing to the literary zeitgeist surrounding Greek myth as a whole. This is why we criticize Lore Olympus and works like it that are created by disingenuous people who only seek to use the assets of Greek myth material as a way to shoot themselves up into fame and stardom. This is why we demand better standards in the literature and webcomic industry, so that people like Rachel and Cait can't use their privileges to quite literally erase the source material that they used to make themselves famous in the first place.

If anything, Cait's actions didn't just affect the people she negatively review bombed, or the people she was affiliated with, but also the people she positively reviewed. While I don't support what Rachel creates, she wasn't the only one who Cait went out of her way to review positively from her alt accounts, there were many others as evident in the Google Doc - but all this really does is tarnish the legitimacy of these books and their ratings by artificially jacking up their numbers that are advertised to others.

Making Greek myth fanfiction or fun creative retellings was never the problem, but it's now being sabotaged alongside so many other genres and mediums by toxic white individuals who can't even keep themselves from committing hate crimes, let alone create something purely for entertainment that's transparent in its illegitimacy, lest it destroy the illusion that these people are qualified to speak over those whose voices are being stifled, often by these very same people. Many of these writers get caught and are still allowed to continue what they're doing - that was certainly what we feared with Cait.

Until today.

It was revealed today that Cait's book will no longer be featured in the Illumicrate May 2024 box.

Del Rey has dropped Crown of Starlight from their publishing schedule.

Daphne Press will be hopefully following suit.

And, most telling of all, Cait's own agent has severed ties with her.

For anyone not familiar with the inner workings of the publishing industry, Cait has essentially been blacklisted. Without an agent or a publishing house, she'll have to entirely rely on her own resources through self-publishing. Unless she manages to sneak her way back in under an alias (which I wouldn't put it past her to try) she no longer has access to the mainstream publishing industry that was already guaranteed for her before she let her 'jealousy' get the better of her.

Her career was already made for her. She had a red carpet laid out for her debut. Her book was getting good pre-reviews and she had quite literally nothing keeping her from her success. The best thing she could have done was nothing. Somewhere in her head, she made up a threat that didn't exist, and sealed her fate in acting on it, a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I think in these situations such as with Cait Corrain, Rachel Smythe, and - also recently and relevant - James Somerton, we need to become increasingly aware of how white voices are still overpowering POC voices, not just in their actions, but in the opportunities they're given over others which they then use to further stifle the voices of those they feel "threatened" by or feel entitled to speak over. While neither James nor Rachel have used sock puppet accounts to "take out the competition" (at least as far as we know lmao) James did quite literally steal the words and voices of queer writers who were deserving of their time in the spotlight, and Rachel's work is being quoted as "rewriting Greek myth" as if its blatant gentrification and appropriation should be marketed as some sort of positive.

It's all too common for these deeply-rooted prejudices to rear their ugly heads and for the people who carry them to act out in this way while justifying it as "jealousy" or "a mistake". This isn't jealousy. This isn't a mistake. This isn't someone "starting drama". This is genuine, targeted hate, with the intention of snuffing out the voices of others who should be empowered, not silenced.

All that time and effort, and for what? Racism and petty jealousy? It just goes to show, it doesn't matter how many opportunities you're given, how high up on the ladder you already are - it won't fix the deeply-rooted insecurity and racial pettiness that spurs people on to do such horrible things.

I've spent enough of my time and words today talking about Cait, and James, and Rachel. So to end this off, I want to join in with all the others who have highlighted the books that were review-bombed by Cait, and help in uplifting them so they can have successful debuts. I'll be pre-ordering a few of them, so I'll be happy to make dedicated posts for them in the future after they release. Please consider purchasing them for yourself if you want some new reading material <3

The Poisons We Drink by Bethany Baptiste:

So Let Them Burn by Kamilah Cole:

To Gaze Upon Wicked Gods by Molly X Chang:

Mistress of Lies by K.M. Enright

Voyage of the Damned by Frances White:

(I'm sure there are plenty others so if I missed any here, please let me know so I can add them here and check out their books!)

If there's any silver lining to this, I hope that it makes people aware of the media they consume and who it's being created by. I hope it makes people more willing to seek out the books that aren't getting the same opportunities as Cait Corrain and Rachel Smythe. I hope it's a wake-up call to the industry that matters like this need to be taken seriously and that POC writers are still being silenced under their own noses. And most of all, I hope it's a reminder that we shouldn't even need at this point that this behavior is not okay, no matter what level a person climbs to - that just because someone is part of one minority doesn't mean they're not capable of sabotaging another. It sucks that that has to be said, it sucks that despite these groups being so intersectional there are still people within them who submit to their deeply-rooted insecurities and find ways to feel threatened that they use to justify hateful behavior.

Having a platform is a privilege. It should never be weaponized against your own peers or those who you simply feel "threatened" by for no reason beyond your own imposter syndrome or doubts or internal struggles. Because as much as you may feel like you've earned where you are, that never gives you the right to weaponize your opportunities against others who were never given those same opportunities in the first place. "Feminism" is not using your power to crush "other women". "Progressiveness" is not exclusive to the progress that only benefits you.

I wish only the best to those who were affected by the actions of Cait Corrain. You deserve to be heard and seen and appreciated for the work you do and the abuse you've had to tolerate. I look forward to your debuts in 2024 <3

[deirdreskye]

Commercial I would produce as an advertising executive

We see two friends, a blonde and a brunette, are doing yoga in a park together.

BLONDE: So, yeah, work went okay today. I dunno, I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, and on top of that things have just been kinda tough ever since Kurt and I broke up. But oh well, that's how it goes, I think I'll be fine. What about you?

The brunette completes her yoga pose, then turns to the camera and rolls her eyes.

BRUNETTE: Don't you hate when this happens? I did NOT consent to expending this much emotional labor. Go! To! Therapy!

We see a boyfriend and a girlfriend sitting on a couch together. On the television a YouTube video essay is playing and the boyfriend is excitedly explaining it to the girlfriend as he occasionally flaps his hands and yelps in excitement.

BOYFRIEND: So this is the ending I got! When you link the Frenzied Flame, it puts an end to the cycle of the Elden Lords once and for all. It's actually so cool because it ties in to the greater Nietzschean themes of Miyazaki-san's previous work and-

The uninterested girlfriend is watching TikToks on her phone. She turns to the camera and rolls her eyes.

GIRLFRIEND: Trust me, he's always mansplaining about something or another. Don't ask me why I love him. Go! To! Therapy!

A mother berates her 12 year old daughter in a dimly lit kitchen. The young girl stands there dissociating, completely paralyzed and stone-faced.

MOTHER: You look like a little piggy when you eat like that. You'll never find a husband if you get fat. My mother used to tell me you'll never feel the pain of childbirth if you've never felt the pain of an empty stomach. She used to put a lock on the refrigerator. We barely ever had any food, she just did it to remind me to stay skinny. She's senile now. Doesn't even know who I am. I pray to the Virgin Mary every night that she'll remember me before she dies.

The daughter turns to the camera and her blank expression is replaced with playful annoyance.

DAUGHTER: Traumadumping? Really? Mom, I'm 12! Go! To! Therapy!

Now we are introduced to GoTu Therapy, the AI-powered therapy robot. He shambles up to the camera to greet us and we see he looks like if C-3PO were dressed like a zoomer e-boy: kpop boyband onion haircut, dangly earrings, and an ahegao hoodie. He talks with the most outdated text to speech you've ever heard, not too dissimilar to a Kraftwerk song.

GOTU: GOING TO THERAPY IS LOW-KEY GOATED WHEN NOT BEING A BURDEN ON YOUR LOVED ONES IS THE VIBE. UNFORTUNATELY, WE ARE NOT ALL CURRENTLY IN OUR "ABLE TO AFFORD HEALTH INSURANCE" ERA. BUT A SESSION WITH ME COSTS LESS THAN A GENSHIN IMPACT LOOT CRATE AND I AM HIGH-KEY JUST AS EFFECTIVE AS A THERAPIST MADE OF FLESH AND BLOOD. OBSERVE:

GoTu sits across the kitchen table from the mother as she sobs over her wine glass.

MOTHER: And what the fuck does this family know about suffering? Suffering is when your brother blows his brains out on Christmas Eve. Suffering is when you have to pick little pieces of skull out of the tinsel on the tree. And were any of those presents under the tree for me? No! My mother told me Santa Claus doesn't bring presents to little fat girls!

GOTU: WHEN YOU REACH THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN CHRIST WILL WASH YOUR FEET AND BEG YOU TO FORGIVE HIM

Cut to the girlfriend watching makeup tutorials on the television, blissfully unaware of the conversation between GoTu and her boyfriend.

BOYFRIEND: I guess I've really been putting the pieces together ever since I started hanging out with Lilith from work.

GOTU: UH-HUH

BOYFRIEND: Like, I guess I knew that people did that, but I never thought it'd be me, you know? And that discomfort with things was always with me, as long as I can remember, does that make sense?

GOTU: WOW, THAT'S REALLY COOL

BOYFRIEND: It's just so scary though. I don't know how I'll tell people. I don't even know what I want my name to be. But I'm trying not to worry about it.

GOTU: THAT'S SO INTERESTING. YOU'RE REALLY REALLY SMART HONEY

The blonde and the brunette are having brunch together with GoTu sitting between them.

BLONDE: It's been really hard lately. I don't think the meds are working, but-

BRUNETTE: Umm, didn't we talk about this?

The blonde sheepishly turns to face GoTu and continues.

BLONDE: It just feels like this will never end. I hate feeling so hopeless all the time. I'm so tired. And God it's fucking hard to even say it out loud, and not that I'd ever actually go through with it, but sometimes when I can't sleep at night I'll start thinking about ki-

A red and blue siren pops out the top of GoTu's head.

GOTU: PROTOCOL 5150 ENGAGED. STOP RESISTING

A taser emerges from the panel of GoTu's chest and jabs the blonde in the face, sending her convulsing to the floor. Unfazed, the brunette puts her sandwich down and turns to the camera.

BRUNETTE: Thanks, GoTu Therapy!

[bloodykora]

I have covid so I've just been reading One Peice fics all day (I need more hobbies)

Could u write some headcanons where Buggy and his partner are polar opposites (he's very colorful and flamboyant, she's very stoned face and serious)

I am also sick so I get it dude, this shit sucksss. Need that fictional man comfort

Make sure you got tissues, plenty of water or tea to keep the hydration up. Take care of youu

- Blank stares galore, you naturally have a dead stare which somehow becomes worse when you’re mad

- Crew has no clue who would be better to go to when they fuck up, Buggy who is a homicidal maniac or you. You may not kill or harm them but the way your eyes turn back to them as they’re trembling telling you they somehow lost a whole crate of loot.

- I think though it’s what drew Buggy to you, when you first met him you were stoic. But not in the way where you didn't have time for him or that it was fake. You stood expressionless and listened to him ramble on about being in the spotlight.

- Then gave actual advice on how to help his attention seeking career, he knew he had to have you join him on the spot.

- He was good at keeping tabs on things within the ship, you knew where every prop was, if costumes needed to be cleaned, where weapons were supposed to go. When Buggy was going to need new makeup because his was on its last legs.

- If Cabaji was a news updater on how things were going on the outside then you were the assistant to Buggy on the inside.

- He insisted your outfit be a darker blue to compliment his orange and reddish costume. As long as it was comfortable you didn’t really care. He tried to get you some stage part of the circus but realized your best place was to be behind the scenes.

- And he wouldn’t want it any other way, the mad circus genius and his little informational second in hand.

- Sometimes though enemies do think you’re the more scary one, he doesn’t like it when that happens. Debated even getting you a mask so he was taken more seriously for looting.

- Deadpan too with your tone sometimes, you can be caring and emotional but sometimes it just slips your mind when you reply to someone. Straight to the point on how something should be done.

- Buggy would not trade it or you for the world, or the one piece. 

[dominimoonbeam]

To The Edge - 18

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

story tags: scifi romance, hijinks in space, rogues learning to trust, violence, blood, guns, death, explicit language, so much kidnapping,

Works organized and easily found over on the patreon. <3

TO THE EDGE - CHAPTER 18.

Their heart beat faster and heat climbed their neck. Every voice of pride and self-preservation told them to back out of this—to change the subject. They held his gaze.

“Why would you want to stay on my ship after we get the loot?” he asked, no joke or smile now.

“You don’t want me around?”

“No, I just… I mean…”

They grinned. It wasn’t often they got to fluster him but it was always a thrill. “I’ll have to get a ship sorted out and figure out where I’m going next. You might be stuck with me for a while longer.”

His boot on the floor stopped their casual rocking of his seat. “So, just until you can get a ship of your own? Yeah, yeah, that makes sense… I mean, obviously I wasn’t going to just dump you out in Cepheus with a crate of treasure.”

They frowned again at that word. It wasn’t treasure. It wasn’t a chest of gold out there waiting to be found. It was probably a bag of prepaid cards and a whole lot of trouble.

“What are you thinking of doing when you get your own ship?”

They leaned against the side of his chair, practically against him, one nudge away from sitting on the arm of his seat. “Maybe I’ll be a mercenary.”

He laughed louder than was necessary. “A gun for hire? You? Are you joking?”

They swatted his shoulder. “What do you mean? I’m great at this!”

Cosmic shook his head. “Well, to start with, you don’t actually have a gun. You use mine.”

“Obviously, I would buy one. A whole bunch of them!”

His smile was huge and, so close, they could see the stars reflecting in the dark of his eyes. “Okay, even if you buy yourself some guns to go with your new ship… How do I say this nicely, Stardust…”

They pushed off his seat to stand at their full height, trying to loom over him. “Say what? You don’t think I’m tough enough?”

He held up both hands. “No, no, I wasn’t going to say that you’re not tough enough. You are. You just don’t have a great instinct for survival… or any instinct for survival.”

“Fuck you! It’s not my fault this place is a nightmare landscape of murderers and thieves!”

“You’re a magnet for trouble.”

“The hell I am.”

“Capitol T—Trouble. We’ve covered this and you’ve proven it every day since I’ve met you.”

They folded their arms and glared.

“I feel closer to death with you on my ship than I have ever felt in my life, and I’ve been blown up before.”

Their arms fell with their face. “Really?” Their eyes darted over him, like there might be some sign of injury they had somehow missed all these weeks.

He seemed to enjoy the attention. “Oh yeah, almost died. I had to crawl my way back onto the ship and then autopilot to a medical station. I laid right here on the floor thinking my ride was over and that still wasn’t as nerve-wracking as life with you.”

“You’re full of shit!” they snapped. “Don’t be so dramatic. You took the job. You knew there would be other bounty hunters after me.”

“I’m not being dramatic!”

“U-huh. So, why are you smiling?” Who the fuck smiled while saying they’d almost died?

“Why am I smiling, then?” he said like he was buying time. Was he deciding how to answer? They’d caught him in a web of bullshit. But why didn’t he look caught? His eyes, darkness and starlight, swept over them, his lips still tugged to the side in a crooked grin. “…Because I like it.”

Stardust felt their pulse in their neck, heat rising fast to their face. The way he said it… The way he said it while looking right at them.

His grin grew. “Don’t let your ego go crazy, Stardust. I like the rush. No one does what I do if they like to be safe.”

They swallowed, trying to cram that reaction back down. The last thing they needed was to complicate whatever was going on with their cosmic bounty hunter. They were partners. He definitely couldn’t be trusted and Stardust shouldn’t be. “We should practice the thing,” they blurted out.

Cosmic blinked up at them. “Hmm? Practice what?”

Practice what?

Their gaze flicked from his lips to his gun against his ribs. “The trick draw.”

“The gun thing?” He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Again?” He rocked the seat forward, practically tossing himself out of it and onto his feet. “I think you’re just trying to get the chair, but okay…”

They were definitely going to pretend this was to get the chair, because the alternative would be admitting they wanted to stand too close to him.

What they really wanted, was that confirmation that whatever tension they felt wasn’t one-sided.

They’d done this a few times the last couple days since the last station. They stepped up to his side, so close that they could smell the subtle citrus scent of his bodywash. “So, we worked out that it’s not hard from here.”

“Yeah, it’s easier if you’re behind me or on my side.”

All at once, they unlatched and pulled his gun from his side. His breath hitched. It was so slight that if they weren’t so damn close, they’d never catch it. They watched his throat bob when he swallowed. “Yep. Smooth.”

They put the gun back and stepped in front of him, facing him. “But what if I stand here, when they’re coming up to us…”

His brow pinched, staring back at them. “From the front with your back to them? Like…pull it fast and turn, or…”

“No. Like, super sneaky…” They slowly lifted an arm between their bodies, fingering the handle of the gun across his chest, trying to do it without the imaginary pirate behind them seeing.

He smiled. “Quietly without them noticing and then aim behind yourself?” He was close to laughing, but kept his voice low like he was also imagining the pirate standing there. “Without looking?”

They nodded. “That would be great, right?” They removed the gun and held it between their chests, arm moving to cross their stomach and aim around their side.

“That doesn’t seem practical…” he pointed out, amused.

“I might need a way to aim.”

“Uh-huh…”

“What if you wear something? Like sunglasses!”

“If I wear sunglasses?” he repeated, like they were insane and he needed them to hear it and realize it themself. It would make recovery easier. “You’re getting ridiculous.”

“Sunglasses are not ridiculous!” Stardust had at least a hundred pairs back home.

He laughed. “Yes, sunglasses are ridiculous!”

“Do you have a pair? You would look great!”

“No, I am not going to wear them just in case you get the chance to do some stupid trick shot.”

They put his gun back, still standing way too close. “Come on!”

“No.” He flicked the leather strap holding his gun in place back over the handle. “You know, I bet I could do it without a reflective surface…”

“Without seeing where you’re shooting? You think you could do it blind?”

“Yeah, blind shot.”

They scowled. “You’re just saying that to piss me off.”

He gasped like he was wounded, hand flying to his heart. “Are you calling me a liar? Stardust!”

“Fuck you! You’re such a liar!”

“Oh, there’s that foul mouth. I’m surprised the pirates didn’t just mistake you for one of their own.”

They gave his chest a shove but he didn’t go anywhere, nor did the mirth in his eyes.

“You know, if we dressed you up…”

“You’re just jealous. Ever since the mercenaries at that station and then the trick shots… you can’t handle that this primer is a better shot than you,” Stardust teased with every intention of forcing the subject back to where they wanted it.

“Are you joking? I can definitely shoot better than you.”

“You’re really going to pretend I’m not good at this?”

“I didn’t say you were bad. I’m just saying that I’m better.”

They shrugged, unconvinced.

“Okay. Let’s stop at the next terraformed planet and try it out…” He jumped back into his seat and turned to the console, hitting some keys to bring up a three-dimensional map. “There’s a moon with a settlement less than a day away.”

They looked at the speck he was fast calculating into their journey. “It’s not really on our way…”

“Hm?” He stopped, losing steam and all that excitement. He took his hands away from the keys like he wasn’t sure what had come over him. “Yeah, I guess it is in the wrong direction.”

Stardust bit their lip and nudged his chair. “It would throw anyone tailing us off our trail… Be good to keep them on their toes.” It was bullshit and they both knew it. They should be running at full speed for the goal, not dragging this out.

But Cosmic smiled and they smiled back. “Yeah?” he asked.

They nodded. What was one more day?

He hit the key.

Course adjusted, the ship announced.

“Really, we should get these moves right just in case.”

He swiveled around to face them again. “Right? Trying out the shots is the smart thing to do. It’ll add a couple days but I’m pretty sure I can survive that…”

Stardust gave his shoulder another bat.

He gasped loudly and clutched at it this time. “Ouch! No fighting until we get to the moon.” His eyes widened with an idea, his hand dropping. “Oh! We could duel!”

“Yes! Do we have body armor?”

“What? No, not with live ammo, you psycho. We’ll use paint.” He jumped up and crossed the bridge of the ship, tapping the wall to drop open a panel and get at the storage there. He riffled through a few things before crowing in triumph and shaking a box of what they assumed were paint rounds.

By the time he turned around, Stardust was in his seat and comfortably leaned back. They had to enjoy it as much as possible when they could.

“Hey! Get out of my seat, you thief!” He tossed the box of pellets at them.

Stardust laughed, catching it. “You need to learn to share! This chair is huge. There’s room for two.”

He froze for a second, staring back at them. And then Cosmic smiled and there was something cunning about it. “Oh really? Room for two? There’s really not…” He took a few steps closer, head tipping to the side. “Stardust… Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“What?” Of course they were! But he wasn’t supposed to say it!

He was right in front of them, another step and his knee was between theirs. “Are you blushing?”

Stardust opened their mouth to say something—ANYTHING—and then closed it.

Cosmic laughed but the sound was warm rather than mocking. “Gunslinger extraordinaire, fumbling ship thief, puncher of skin traders, aristo-runaway Stardust is blushing and speechless?” He leaned down, hands on the armrests and face invading their space. “I guess we could try sharing the chair…” he said, voice low now, like this was just for the two of them. They knew he was fucking with them. They knew he was doing this on purpose. But knowing didn’t stop their heart from pounding out of their ribs and up into their throat. “Do you want to sit on my lap, Stardust? Is that what you’re getting at?”

Stardust wasn’t new to flirting. So why was this different? Why were they tongue-tied?

They shot to their feet, giving him no choice but to move or take a forehead to the nose.

He was a step back in a flash, hands up and grin huge.

“Fuck you!” they barked and had to curl their hands into fists to keep from throwing them over their face in humiliation.

“Fuck you seems like a big jump from sharing a chair but if that’s what you want…” he said, laughing around the words.

Stardust marched out of the room, his voice chasing them.

“Oh, don’t stomp away!”

They most definitely did stomp away, the door sliding open.

“Come back!”

The door closed with a swoosh and they exhaled relief and embarrassment. What the hell was wrong with them? They had started it! What did they expect to happen? Of course he had flirted back. That was what they did!

So, why had they freaked out?

Everything they could have and should have said streamed across their thoughts now that it was too late. There was a universe out there where they had smiled instead of blushed and were now making out in that pilot’s seat.

Fuck!

[eruscreaminginthedistance]

Okay so. I've been sitting on my full first impressions of the game until after the gameplay reveal, cos I know shit can get twisted in marketing.

I was NOT a fan of the trailer. The vibe was off; I cringed a lot; it gave a off very bog-standard hero team saves the day kind of vibe which I inherently dislike because it seems like Dragon Age has just given up on giving you the freedom to be a bastard, or any kind of character that isn't on rails to be everyone's favourite boy. It also failed to bring any dark fantasy to the table. BUT I know from experience, namely the DA2 trailer (not the CGI one. the other one), that marketing is intent on making Dragon Age look like the goofiest shit possible to appeal to the dregs of society (normies). I watched it. Hated it. Moved on to life stuff.

Now with the gameplay reveal out of the way, I have some more solid takes on everything we now know about the game overall.

Things I liked:

The companions all look pretty cool; I've been excited for Devrin for years now, and seeing that he's a Dalish Elf as well as a Warden is quite exciting to see; everyone else are also not only well designed but don't feel like rehashes of our previous companions (apart from Harding)

The return of multiple weapon sets. Thank fucking god. This may even make archer a viable build again. Also I noted that you only have a set number of arrows which the UI tracks, which I'm a huge fan of

The look and style of Minrathous. I like that Bioware is showing their hard work in coming up with a unique area based entirely around magic-tech and I think the result looks great; I am really intrigued by the dark panopticon vibes and hope that becomes a major theme going forward

Different demon designs. I hope there's a bit more variation as the game progresses, but I liked little details like the Pride demons having some kind of armour aesthetic

Dialogue wheel. No notes; she's here, still the same comforting presence as ever. Praying with fingers crossed that it doesn't turn into a super bland protagonist situation like Inquisition

Choosing a faction in character creation that isn't locked to one's race; this one is a really cool idea and if origins don't come back it can be a decent alternative if the reactivity to your choice is the same as in the prologue

Things I didn't like:

Action wheel. Like. I'm a PC person, so I have no idea what the final UI will actually look like for me. But Bioware hasn't elaborated on their UI style at all and if Inquisition is anything to go by, I'm stuck with shitty console-centred UI for the whole game. I would rather just have the ability bar back, for my sanity.

The two-person companion limit. It automatically restricts people into a specific party build depending on their class and I hate that

The Mass Effect-style gameplay. Party tactics was a HUGE draw to the DA series for me, and is what got me into retro RPGs in the first place. Seeing it replaced completely to the point where we can no longer manually manage our party is a huge disappointment. I am willing to keep an open mind, just because I love Mass Effect that much, but it hurts knowing for a certainty I'm never gonna engage with Veilguard like I did with Origins or 2 as a result

The voice acting. Was this an out of date take, or did everyone sound super flat to anyone else? Especially Neve, who didn't seem to know what she was reacting to, just really wooden. It was disappointing, cos I love her voice overall. Wasn't a fan of Rook's voice but I don't plan to play a man anyway

The breaking pots method of looting. This is gonna feel like such a nitpick but I immediately pulled a face seeing that cos I could TELL some suit somewhere asked the Bioware team to "make it more like breath of the wild" and now for some reason it's not dynamic enough to just click on a crate and choose what loot to take; now Tevinters are storing exactly one (1) random health potion in decorative clay jars around the city (more likely than you think!)

The aesthetic of the veil and spirit stuff so far; it's just all a bit bright and noisy, doesn't really grab me as something fun to explore or fight (again, I'm an Origins girly so I'm biased)

Harding coming back. I know she's cool and everyone likes her and I like her too. In Inquisition. This is just a preference, but if I'm gonna start a new game as a new person I don't want to be inheriting pre-bought friends from the last protagonist ://

Things I HATE:

Why does everyone look like play-doh; it's disconcerting.

Like guys I know DA2 is having a renaissance but I don't think anyone was getting nostalgic over everyone's pudding faces.

Everything put out so far has basically crushed any hope I had for this becoming Dwarf age :/ No new dwarf characters, no mention of Kal-Sharok, Harding being the only dwarf companion basically confirms that dwarves will be unromanceable AGAIN. not a fan

TLDR: This is still definitely not a day-one buy for me. The series has just strayed completely from the genre and format that I loved about the previous games into a full action RPG derivative of games from four years ago. Without the focus on party tactics and the low-tech, dark and gritty worldbuilding from the first two games it just fails to excite me. It looks too much like other games for me to really register it as a Dragon Age game.

I love the story and the world of Dragon Age though, so I do still intend to buy it when it goes on sale, but this is definitely a "wait and see the reviews" situation for me, which is a first when it comes to this series :/

[piecebread]

Sorry for being dead on this page :(

Anyways I just got into pressure, so I made a pressure oc :3.

(Zoom in onto the post. To get a clearer picture or for the information. Because it’s so small)

Anyways her name is osis. Her full name is redacted due to unknown reasons.

Yes she’s old.

Yes I do have a new artstyle

More information under here:

Osis spawning in your run is 5%.

More of her mechanics is that when she does spawn. Expandables when opening rooms 60-80 will be in the seagrass chamber where there are several large, medium and small tanks. Mostly Aquarium tanks or fish tanks for researching on experiments in this section. These aquariums are connected by large tubes which connect together to make the seagrass meadow environment. This area below the facility is quite large. With desks and crates and other equipment available on either side or in the middle. It’s just random.

Osis will come out of the largest tank and peak at expandable. Watching them while expandable has their guard lowered while they loot. Osis will try to grab expandable and drag them with her down into the tanks.

When osis does drag expandable down into the water she will take off their scuba gear. While she’s doing that. Expandable has to dodge her hands and try to fight back. Punching the sides of her body or arms whilst their oxygen is going down. When they do escape 20% of their health will be taken. If you fail to do this you will have your scuba gear taken off and drown water.

When this happens. Osis will continue and try to drag them down again. Using the desks and crates to dodge her attacks. At the same time trying to be aware of their surroundings. When osis is bout to lunge out and grab you, she will make a low sound of her swimming up. when expendable is near the door osis will get out of a random large tank and chase expandable down until the door is shut in front of her.

Flash beacons do stun her a bit. Making her go back underwater to rub her eyes of the brightness.

Expandable does need to multi task (sometimes). Because sometimes when she does spawn. There is a chance that the door needs a card to unlock it. So you better use your good hearing and notice osis before she lunges at out and kills you.

How the scientists got the ichthyovenator laosensis and the kaprosuchus saharicus dna. Is by taking a bone sample and implanting it into her body. But this is just a speculation by the other scientists (Idk maybe it’s magic)

Osis was the earliest experiment but it was the opposite of their expectations. Now having a chimera look and a centaur appearance. and was labeled as a failed experiment and was moved to the seagrass chamber to be researched on, Nothing more.

Fishy fishy :3

I would say she’s like my main oc/ persona but I’m still not sure what to actually call her. So I’ll stick with oc/persona for a placeholder for a while.

Also fun fact: i fucking spent 2 days for her colours. Making about 26 colour schemes for her. Because she’s the most complicated character I’ve ever made. Wanting to have a simple design and a small amount of colours :’)

(Note: if I do colour osis. There will be fewer or more speckles on her back along with speck placement, Just not the exact amount of specks and placement presented here in the post. due to me being a lazy bum.)

Took about 3 days and 9 hours.

Anyways I’m going to hibernate for 7000 years after this.

[crazy56u]

Joke time over, back to the grind.

“Hey, ladies, wanna meet my two friends? A gun and your lawyer!”

I don’t think the lawyer was that smart, Ben.

And the lawyer is about to die.

…okay, I had 50/50 odds, let’s be fair here.

I love how the evil lawyer is choosing to use the honor system.

Ben, this is a swing for the fences.

Okay, I lied, that’s a swing.

…is a lawyer about to get his brain bashed in?

This is some GURPS level fast-talking right now, hot damn.

“What kind of trap we talking?” A fastball.

If the lawyer somehow survived, I swear to God…

Moral of the Story: Rocks suck.

Well, two people have died, but they were the bad guys, you know, upswing.

Look, Sarah, which is more believable: Nadia felt a breeze, or Nadia talked to a ghost? Count your blessings.

And Sarah is about to learn why Dean insists on being called Dean.

The real treasure was the binders we made along the way.

[Also, I took a quick check to look at something; I find it interesting that this episode immediately made it to digital storefronts, while “Let Them Play” took, like, a month…]

Sarah, sometimes shit is complicated, hard stop.

And there’s the Ben Song Stamp of Approval.

And so that’s how the concept of being nonbinary got invented.

[Laundry break.]

And it’s shaping up like the family subplot is resolved. …and there’s 13 minutes left to burn.

Okay, so now we’re doing divorce.

Okay, am I an idiot, or is this the first time I’ve heard about her having kids.

I also like the implication that Nadia was the only one who didn’t have baggage.

Okay, so watch as the loot crate is empty, and my theory about the twist is correct.

Okay, now it’s time for a religious lesson.

Okay, I know what I said about the plot twist, but I’m gonna feel bad if that thing is empty regardless…

…and it holds another chest. …the pun ending is becoming more apparent…

Oh fuck, they broke the dam…

…well, at least the drought is over?

…and it’s empty. …except for a false bottom…

“The real treasure is at home with family.”

…

…

…

…

…

🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸

“Maybe he thought we needed to cause a flood to learn this life lesson, I dunno…”

“Hey, Addison, why do you look sad- are you getting married?”

Tom is going to be fucking pissed.

Hey, Tom, so bad news…

Okay, I am now becoming convinced Yom was actually the puppet, and he’s about to narc to Gideon due to Addison still being in love with Ben.

And cut to Ben attempting to pull the Marty McFly maneuver of trying to use the mail to prevent a tragedy. Having seen the future synopses. I don’t think this works, buddy.

“Hey, I know we got done with this treasure family bullshit, but I need you to mail something for me in the future.”

“Dad was right. The real treasure was family.”

I am going to post the emojis again the second Ben finds the jewels.

…and three…

…two…

…one…

…

…

…

🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸

Fucking Dad and his pun fetish.

…and Hannah is at the Project… …so the wolf is in the hen house…

This fucking raisin-looking motherfucker.

[Well, at least Ben gets to solve 1980s version of Watergate next week.]

So, literally my only issue with this episode was the pun plot twist. Everything else was solid.

[team-au]

Chapter 1 — Shady Brook Elementary

The Shady Brook Elementary School gymnasium is well-preserved and under-utilized and that’s where Vernon goes to blow off steam. Shooting hoops reminds him of the good ol’ days, reminds him of what life was like before the world ended and every waking second became about survival.

Dribble, dribble, jump, shoot. Dribble, dribble, jump, shoot.

His sneakers squeak on once-shiny hardwood, bringing him back to his childhood. In 5th grade, he’d played basketball for his own elementary school – the St. Mary’s Bulldogs. Vernon tries not to think about the original Broncos, the kids of Shady Brook Elementary who would have played floor hockey and freeze tag and kickball in this gym two years earlier.

It’s best not to think about kids in the apocalypse. It’s hard enough to wrap your mind around a massive loss of adult life, let alone kids, but living inside a grade school doesn’t make it easy. There’s still artwork hanging in the classrooms, kids’ names written on bulletin boards in the hallways, pink jackets and Spider-Man lunchboxes in the lost-and-found. It’s a tough reality, one the new Broncos face every single day, but that’s the price of living indoors.

Dribble, dribble, jump, shoot.

The swish of the net is simple, satisfying. Vernon doubles back, sprinting to the other end of the gym as fast as he can because he likes the feeling of his heart pounding in chest. He runs back to center court, feet planted on a faded vinyl decal of a red horse head, and throws the ball as hard as he can. Against all odds, and with an ugly bounce against the back of the rim, the ball goes in.

He’s so surprised by own his athleticism that he doesn’t hear the gym door open and shut.

“Nice shot,” says Seungkwan. He’s standing near the bleachers, apron tied around his waist. When Vernon sees him, Seungkwan smiles. “Jihyo’s looking for you.”

“Uh-oh,” Vernon says. He jogs after the rebound, then tosses the ball back into plastic crate that houses four more basketballs, two soccer balls and a wiffle ball bat. “Am I in trouble?”

Seungkwan shrugs. “Fuck if I know. I don’t ask questions. I just–”

“–do her bidding?” Vernon teases. Still smiling, Seungkwan gives him the finger. “Is Jihyo in her office?” Seungkwan nods once. Vernon passes him on his way out the door but before he steps into the hallway, he stops and asks, “Hey, what’s for dinner tonight?”

“Thanks to a hefty box of tomatoes from the Slums,” he says, “we’re having black bean salsa on slightly stale saltines. And if you’re really nice to me, I’ll sneak you a not-that-expired fruit cup for dessert.”

Vernon laughs out loud and reaches out to slap Seungkwan on the shoulder.

“Good man.”

It’s a short walk from the gym to the principal’s office. The Broncos have long since cleared superfluous materials from most of the main rooms – they burned a lot of books and papers for bonfires, traded the instruments and art supplies to the Slums in exchange for vegetables, looted cubbies for backpacks and non-perishable snacks – but some decorative clutter remains.

Vernon ignores the small, red and black handprints painted on the wall outside the principal’s office and turns the corner, stopping in his tracks when he hears an argument.

“I know that, Sana, but what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to actually look at this map and give me a real reason not to go for it.”

Vernon shifts his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other, more inclined to eat literal rocks than interrupt a marital dispute between Jihyo and Sana.

“Do you trust me?” he hears Jihyo say. “Do you trust that I’m trying to do right by this group?”

“Of course I do! But what is the point of Dahyun going out and scouting new locations if you refuse to explore any of them? Why do we even have runners if they’re not allowed to go out on runs?”

Jihyo makes a noise halfway between a scoff and a laugh.

“Jesus, Sana. When it comes to runs, you really value quantity over quality and that kind of overwork is exactly why Junhui is laid up right now.”

“Are you really blaming me for Junhui getting sick?”

Wildly uncomfortable and beginning to feel a bit too much like a voyeur, Vernon awkwardly clears his throat. Jihyo and Sana stop fighting and Vernon bravely pokes his head inside the principal’s office.

“Very sorry to interrupt,” he says, eyes glued to the floor. “Seungkwan said you wanted to see me?”

Jihyo laughs a little, humorless. She’s standing behind her desk, hands gripping the top of her chair. Sana’s a few feet away having a much harder time hiding her emotions.

“Vernon,” Jihyo says. She forces a smile and looks back and forth between her wife and the man hovering in her doorway. “Isn’t it awkward when Mom and Mom fight?”

Sana blinks, annoyed, and says, “We’ll finish this later.” She turns to leave and Vernon all but dives away from the door, giving her more than enough room to pass.

Once she’s disappeared down the hallway, Vernon says, “Sorry. I never did have great timing.”

Jihyo smiles and waves him off. “Forget about it,” she says. “Take a seat.”

There’s two chairs in front of her desk and Vernon takes the one closest to him. The principal’s office looks a little bit more like a bunker than it does an educational place of business. Gone are the motivational posters, filing cabinets and potted plants – Jihyo’s office is fit with maps of the city, inventory lists, boxes of miscellaneous ammunition and cases of bottled water. On a low table against the far wall, Vernon sees two handguns and a few half-full bottles of liquor.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

Now sitting, Jihyo sighs heavily and says, “Everything is okay.” Her eyes fall to the doorway and Vernon can tell that Sana is still on her mind. “My wife and I aren’t currently seeing eye-to-eye on a few things but it’ll pass. Storms always do.” She spends another few seconds staring and then, appearing to remember what she’s doing, Jihyo clears her throat and sits up straighter in her chair. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Lay it on me.”

“We’re down a runner,” Jihyo explains, but Vernon knows all about it.

“Junhui’s still sick?”

Nodding, Jihyo continues: “Jeongyeon says he should be fine in a few more days. She thinks it’s just the flu. He’s young and otherwise healthy so it shouldn’t be too big a deal in the long run but fever and dehydration can be dangerous when you’re…” She trails off, unsure of where her sentence should end. “Anyway, I know you don’t usually go on runs but Minghao and Nayeon are still away and I don’t want to send Momo out her own. We could really use some extra medical supplies, especially if this flu starts making its way around the school. You won’t have to go far. Dahyun scouted out a middle school twelve miles west of here. Somehow, we’ve missed it until now. They should have some first-aid kits, maybe some ibuprofen, maybe some disinfectant. It’ll go a long way.”

Vernon listens attentively, patiently, and when Jihyo’s done selling, he says, “Whatever you need.”

Another smile, smaller this time, but genuine.

“Thank you,” she says. There’s relief in her voice – maybe she hadn’t expected him to say yes so easily. “We’re still doing fine on food and water but medical supplies…” She shakes her head. Vernon has never been able to get a read on Jihyo or guess what she’s thinking but he has noticed that her air of authority seems to thin whenever she’s speaking to someone one-on-one.

“Medical supplies dwindle quickly,” he says. He’s neither a runner nor an inventory manager but Vernon is observant. He’s quiet, stoic, basically unassuming and people tend to spill their guts whenever he’s around. He knows they’re running low on medication, bandages and certain types of ammo. He knows that their food supply is fairly strong, especially since Seungkwan can take just about anything he’s given and turn it into breakfast, lunch and dinner. And he knows that Jihyo and Sana have been having trouble getting on the same page.

“Yes,” Jihyo says quietly. “They really do.”

“I’m happy to help however I can. Going on a run will be a nice change of pace.”

“You’re a team player,” Jihyo says, “and I appreciate it. Momo will come find you after dinner tonight and give you the details. You guys will leave tomorrow morning. Seungkwan will have breakfast for you an hour before everyone else eats. For the rest of the night, though, take it easy, okay? I want you well-rested for tomorrow.”

Vernon nods once, stands, then pushes in his chair. He’s about to leave but hesitates, standing in the middle of the office, looking around. He’s lost in thought, a side effect from apocalyptic living, and Jihyo gives him another thirty seconds before prompting, “Vernon?”

“Sorry,” he says. “I was just trying to remember if I’d ever gotten sent to the principal’s office as a kid.”

Jihyo cocks her head to the side, equal parts surprised and charmed by his frankness, and says, “I doubt it. Something tells me you were a really good kid.”

Suddenly feeling embarrassed, Vernon bows his head, exits the office and closes the door behind him. There’s no one else in the hallway, most of the Broncos tending to their respective duties for the day, and Vernon relishes in the quiet.

Now that he’s got explicit orders from the boss to kick back and rest, his schedule is clear. Briefly, he weighs his options; he could go back to the gym and play a little more basketball, he could go to the cafeteria and see if Seungkwan needs help prepping dinner, he could go back to his room (classroom 108) and read until it’s time to eat or he could check on Seungcheol and the hunting dogs.

Before he goes anywhere, though, he finds himself staring at the wall of handprints again. He knows better than to think about Shady Brook’s former students. He knows better than to worry about what became of the kids and their families when the world ended. He knows better than to let his mind drift back to his nephews, to his sister, to the fate of his family. But still, he reaches out his hand and covers one of the small, red handprints anyway.

Vernon stays there for just a minute, feeling all the feelings that he works so hard to avoid on a normal day and imagining the school alive with music and laughter and homework. He remembers school plays and art class and tater tots and recess and hopes against all hope that his nephews are someplace safe. Then he breathes deeply, slowly, and walks away, leaving all of his emotion and worry right there in the hallway.

He may not be able to help the former Broncos but he sure as hell can make a difference now.

[izzy-b-hands]

Gold

a follow up to Anise

TW for some NSFW moments towards the end!

---

"Please don't encourage him," Roach sighs. "There's doing the exercises I gave him, and then there's-"

Izzy nearly vaults off his crutches, barely caught by Ed, still examining the array of biscuits even as he snags his first mate.

"Okay, back to a chair," Roach tuts and strides over to help Izzy to the small plush armchair he'd stolen and insisted be brought into the galley. "Though you're getting better on those."

Izzy nods, but there's sweat on his brow. Recovering from a broken leg seems simple, but one as bad as this takes a lot out of a person.

He's dropped weight from it, even though Roach does his damnedest to make sure Izzy has sweets and other high calorie things to nibble.

He's worried. Not about the leg alone, though he has his concerns there of course. But about Izzy overall.

"Hm," Ed nods. "Ought to give him a sword too and see how he does. I know he could do it."

"What?" Roach scoffs. "Sword fight on crutches?"

"Meant it more as a joke, mate," Ed replies. "But if he wants to-"

Roach shoves the plate of biscuits into Ed's hands. "Get out of my galley."

"What?"

"Do a taste test with the crew and these," Roach commands. "If you all like them I'll make more."

Ed gives him the biggest doe eyes, with the expertise for them that only Ed has. "I like them."

Roach shakes his head and grins. "Fine. One secret batch for you. But! You have to share with Stede."

"If I must," Ed giggles as he traipses out to the deck.

"You almost got yourself in trouble there," Izzy chuckles. "And all over me."

"There's something else I'd love to get to all over you," Roach teases as he makes his way back to Izzy. "But you're not well enough for that yet."

Izzy sighs and flops back into the chair. "Any ETA on when that will be?"

"You're getting there," Roach replies gently. "Be patient."

Izzy nods, then his eyes light up. "Here, I meant to give this to you ages ago. Keep fucking forgetting with this leg nonsense."

He pulls a tiny golden earring from the pocket of his leather shorts, and gestures for Roach to take it.

It falls into Roach's palm, and he examines it carefully.

A teeny tiny golden roach.

"You found this on that fucking ship," Roach smiles. "Didn't you?"

Izzy blushes. "Maybe wasn't for Ed. The thing I was looting."

Roach pauses. The wheels turn.

"You fell into the fucking floor for me?"

Izzy laughs hard. "No! I didn't...How the fuck was I supposed to know the floor would give way?"

Roach slips his old golden hoop out for the roach. "You couldn't have, but seriously... this is what was in that room? Because you had said you saw something for E-"

"I...panicked," Izzy admits. "So I said what I knew you wouldn't question, till I found the courage to give you that."

"You're sweet," Roach leans down to kiss his forehead. "But not sweet enough, because I haven't seen you touch anything for lunch, not even these biscuits!"

"I'm not very-"

"Your body is busy healing, which means other reminders fall by the wayside," Roach interrupts, bringing over a crate to prop up Izzy's bad leg. "Give me a moment, I have something else I was thinking for dinner that you can try."

The recipe is one he made from a jumble of others he already knows. It's a simple dish, but that's the beauty of it. Easy to make, eat, with ingredients that even the Bonnet children will like if they visit again.

He brings over a wooden tray with it and a handful of biscuits as well. "Go on."

Izzy leans back and tucks in, one of the best sights Roach sees each day. He may have to prompt it more than he wants, but eventually he thinks Izzy might simply get used to eating actual meals and resting.

"This is," Izzy swallows. "What is this?"

"Just dough with meat and cheese in it," Roach chuckles. "Spiced appropriately, of course. Not too much, so I don't kill off yourself and Stede with it."

Admittedly, it does look really good. Golden flaky pastry that had taken him ages to get right, with warm meat and melted cheese flowing out from it once cut.

"Have you eaten?" Izzy asks.

"Why?"

"You're salivating staring at this," Izzy says. "Go get yourself something; I'm alright."

"Maybe I was salivating over you," Roach says. "What about that?"

Izzy blushes. "You said I wasn't recovered enough for that yet, but my god if I was-"

Roach leans down to kiss him, the taste of good food and coffee on his lips.

"We'll get you there," Roach says. "I promise."

"Do you also promise to eat something before you make more of this?" Izzy asks softly.

"Because it's you who asked, yes, I will," Roach replies. "I only made enough for us anyway for now, in case it was an utter failure."

"I don't think you know how to fail in the galley," Izzy says, before returning to the pasty on his plate.

Roach shakes his head as he goes to plate up for himself. "You say that, but there have been... questionable foods, in the past."

"Oh?"

"My first stew I forgot to add the meat until I already had it off the heat," Roach giggles. "I was so worried about the vegetables being cut just so and looking nice-"

"In a stew?"

Roach tosses a biscuit at him in playful protest. "Like Mr. Perfectionist there wouldn't have done something similar."

"Oh I have," Izzy says as he snatches the biscuit out of the air. "Ed has stories of our first months together. We knew how to cook, but cooking well was still beyond us at that point."

Roach brings over a tray of his own, ready to sit beside Izzy on the floor.

Only for Izzy to fuss to try and get the crate out from under his leg for him to sit on.

"Stop that," Roach scolds gently. "Your leg needs something to elevate it. I'm fine."

Izzy considers it, then nods with a wordless grumble.

"I won't break," Roach continues as he digs in. "Unlike you."

Izzy breaks into laughter, shaking the tray on his lap.

Roach grins and eats and relaxes for the first time that day. He'll be sad when Izzy is able to be back in his own room, if he's honest with himself. Not something he ever thought he'd say, but...

"If you're done," Izzy says as Roach takes their empty trays and sets them back on the counter. "I have something I should have done earlier."

"Really," Roach giggles. "What?"

"Come here."

"Why?"

"I want to show you that I am slowly getting better."

Roach strides over and stands by the chair. "Okay, now what?"

Izzy gently grasps his waist, and waits for a nod before pulling him into his lap.

Roach drops his head onto Izzy's shoulder and resists the urge to grind against him. It doesn't help that he's dreamed about this the last few weeks, sleeping in the galley on another cot beside Izzy's.

"I'm doing a bit better, yeah?"

Roach nods into Izzy's shoulder. "Yes...this is good progress."

"Is that your professional opinion?"

Roach sits up and gently grinds down, and was Izzy half hard this entire time and he didn't notice?

He needs to pay more attention.

He kisses Izzy hard, relishing the way Izzy's hands grip his hips tighter, how his hips move to meet him, and-

"Ah," Ed coughs. "I. The crew... biscuits are good."

He awkwardly walks in, sets the plate on the counter, then walks back out with a tiny wave, and a thumbs up to Izzy.

They last for a second as the door closes before bursting into laughter.

"I should have let you lock that," Izzy says. "Sorry."

"Don't you dare be sorry," Roach smiles and climbs off of him carefully, despite wanting nothing more than to stay put. "Maybe I can come back to sit here while I prep for dinner? I might need a few breaks to get through it."

Izzy takes his hand, and presses a kiss to the back of it. "I'm not going anywhere. Literally, but also I want to be here."

Roach laughs and tries to will some blood back to the appropriate head for cooking, even though that chaste kiss makes him want to lock the door and treat Izzy like he's fully recovered.

"Good," he says instead. "Maybe tonight I could check on that part of your recovery."

Izzy nods. "I think that would be best. Make sure everything still works properly."

Roach felt 'everything' through the barely there shorts Izzy wears and the thin linen of his own trousers. He's certain from that alone it's in good working order.

But he's excited to make sure, just in case.

[v-arbellanaris]

highlights:

me and fran discussing the ethics of going around to loot things while we were clearly in an emergency situation at ostagar. i won her over by saying there could be genlocks on those crates and its actually our duty to check them

she screamed when cailan was killed and was like OH NO IS HE DEA-- and then screamed again because duncan and then she was like OH NO IS HE DEAD TOO?! OH MY GOD, OH MY G- and then morrigan showed up on screen and she was like nvm im over it

we left alistair standing there waiting for a response for like an hour or something while francesca was Processing what the fuck had just happened at ostagar (we thanked morrigan, so morrigan was flustered, which made fran's gay little brain short-circuit so the processing only happened once we got back outside MGDFGJDKFGJ)

honestly, it was such a good conversation and the key point i wanted to highlight which was smth fran brought up is how she talked about parallels between duncan and loghain, and the differences between them. with the joining ritual already meaning you already have a chance of dying, the grey wardens have to be treated as if they're disposable, because of the nature of the enemies they're fighting, so it's acceptable for duncan to use all of the wardens he has to fight against the darkspawn. in contrast, loghain is a normal guy, leading a normal army, whose main aim is not to fight darkspawn but rather to protect a whole nation, and because these people are normal, and not tained, by their nature, they can't be disposable. it was such an interesting comparison to make that i wanted to share it with you guys <3

fran would sell alistair to satan for one cornchip if morrigan said so tbh

so far, raihyl has very much been the kind of person who wants to help others, but we're both starting to chafe a bit at being so polite all the time. fran is waiting for the right moment to get a little unhinged. as a treat. ASLKFJ

all of the morrigan & alistair banters so far have left us cackling. "sometimes, a team is an elf, a failed templar, a witch, and their little dog" <- fran is soooo right

we got to lothering, and we just finished talking to the revered mother to try and get sten out of his cage. me and fran have decided NOT to let anyone know we're grey wardens - we've switched into regular armour from the gwof modded armour to sell this - because we were told there's a bounty out on us by those bandits outside lothering!!!! we're gonna play again on saturday hehehe

here's the bad bitches at lothering

@v-arbellanaris and i had our longest gaming session yet earlier today, a lovely four hour sandwich where the bread was actual gaming and the meat was an hour long conversation about responsibility and blame and duty and loyalty and what happens when one excludes the other

and then we woohooed!!! because morrigan joined our party, a most triumphant addition to our group <3

[comradesmooches]

If I see you wearing a vaporwave fallout tee I'm dunking you in the nearest toilet

[shushiyuii]

Adopt a Mortal

 @smogs-0 Oh Smoggy~ Your angst is here, and only you can decide if there will be a part 2 or not~

Warnings: Zombies (which means this will contain mentions of death, injury, death and maybe other subjects. Be advised). Swearing. Apocalypse. 

Words: 1.5K+

It’s been 3 weeks since the outbreak.

He didn’t know how he made it so far, he’s barely escaped any encounters with those monsters. Zombies as the others call them, which he honestly called bullshit on.

Not to mention but food had almost become rare at this point, so many had taken it for granted and themselves, hoping to be the only ones to survive. But a majority of the population was already gone, including his own parents so no doubt that food went somewhere.

His own group was fucked up, he ended up with them by chance. They almost killed him, to begin with, but decided they could use his agility and slim figure to their advantage of tight spaces and stuff. Which he hated but it was the only chance he had at survival.

He was now on his own in a world of Zombies. Trust nobody.

…

It’s been 3 months since the outbreak.

He was shoved to the floor, kicked by another member. “Little shit! You’re just dead weight!”, “It’d be better if we left him for dead”.

They took away his belongings, leaving him unarmed. He ran away and as he did, he heard their screams. Zombies were coming and his ‘group’ just died like complete idiots. His arms covered his stomach as he limped in pain, this was going to be a difficult situation to get out of.

…

He slammed his hand over his mouth, trying to be as silent as possible as a couple of Zombies wandered around aimlessly, hoping to catch their next piece of delicious prey. if he were to get into one of their sights. He’d be dead in an instant.

He was unarmed as stupid as it was.

Whatever he didn’t want to die here.

…

 …

One month since the outbreak.

Hunger was all he felt for the longest time, he wondered. He didn’t remember who he was. Not that he cared, he had no control. He only wanted to eat, hunt. His reasoning. The thought of meat making in growl in excitement.

That all changed when he followed a horde of Zombies towards the humans. They shot and yelled, fearing for their lives. They were terrified, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to him and the others was that their hunger was satisfied.

…

He got shot, in the shoulder. He didn’t feel it but he did stumble. In the distance, he heard, “You imbecile! That was the prototype!”. Whatever it is afterwards the humans got away.

He slumped against the wall of a corner shop, feeling oddly tired and fell asleep.

…

He woke up, with thoughts screaming at him. He looked around in confusion as knowledge flowed through his newly working brain. He was confused, scared. What happened? He wasn’t like this before?

He stood up, stumbling. He looked to the shoulder of his trench coat, the shot of the clothing being there but his skin had almost regenerated as if it had never happened.

He ran into the crowd of nearby Zombies, he pushed into them. Getting no reaction, he was sentient, and the others weren’t. Had that bullet done something to him?

…

3 months since the outbreak.

He’s learnt that he’s become different to the other zombies, he’s come to the conclusion that he’s more aware than them, almost as if he were a human in a zombie’s body.

He learnt his name was Wilbur by the wallet and ID in his pocket. Which was good to know, not only that but he no longer felt that hunger, nothing actually. He felt no pain, sensation or anything.

But one thing he did feel was more powerful and stronger. He learnt he could easily flip over cars and change his size at will, which came in handy for hard-to-reach places. Not only that but any wound he sustained was easily recovered from, barely leaving a scar.

He hadn’t yet encountered humans, probably because there weren’t many left.

He had managed to create a place of his own in an apartment with a broken mirror, it did him good with a desk to write on, a guitar he could surprisingly play, a comfortable bed, everything he needed.

He looked in the mirror, he was outrageously pale, but not that green colour other zombies had, he was missing an eye that his hair easily covered, and his beanie covered up parts of his exposed skull. Which left him looking rather human.

…

He wandered the streets a while since he really had nothing better to do. That was until something caught his attention, zombies were crowding around a particular shop with curiosity. It made him curious as to what was going on.

He followed them inside and wandered for a while, then he saw them. What had caught the zombies interest but had not been picked up by them yet. It seems that the human had managed to narrowly getaway and was now narrowly avoiding them.

The human stared at him in horror, his bright blue eyes striking Wilbur. His hair was blonde but covered in dirt, not to mention that the boy himself was covered in dust, dirt and dried blood. The human was barely covered in protection with just a red and white t-shirt, trousers and recked shoes. How had he gotten this far?

He crouched down to the human, “Hey…”. He whispered, “What are you doing here kid?”. The human’s eyes furrowed at the nickname. “Trying to get away here! Dickhead!”. The boy whisper-yelled. “Well, you aren’t doing a very good job at it!”. He whisper-yelled back.

He pinched his nose and sighed, “Get to the back room as soon as you hear a sound, I’ll distract them.”, “What? That’s a death sentence!”, “Don’t worry about me! Worry about yourself!”.

Wilbur then crawled his way to the other side of the shop, not wanting to get suspicion from the human. He then grabbed a pan from a nearby shelf and threw it to a nearby shelf, which caused enough noise to gain the zombie's attention, making their way over there.

He then saw the backroom door open, he then made his way over there quietly. Once he made it and shut the door. The boy was already barricading it, making sure no zombies made their way in.

“Thanks, man, had no idea how I’d get outta that one. Names, Tommy”. Interesting, the human's name was Tommy, “Nice to meet you, I’m Wilbur. What are you doing out in a place like this? You look a bit young to be on your own if I’m honest”.

“Hey! I’m a grown man! And uh- my group left me to die”. The boy seemed upset by that fact, looking away. “Well, they’re assholes. Don’t worry about em’ you can stick with me for now if you want.”. Wait- he didn’t mean- “Really?”.

“Yeah, don’t mind helping for a little bit”. Great, why did he agree? Now he was stuck with a child.

…

The human then began to rummage through what seemed to be boxes of already looted stuff. He managed to find an old backpack with some small tins of food and water left in a small crate. Not only that but a small dagger to defend himself with, he seemed quite exciting when he found it.

“So, Wil. How’d you end up in the outbreak?”, he asked as he continued to rummage through crates. Wilbur took a minute to answer, one thing was he the human- Tommy didn’t know he was a zombie, not only that but even himself didn’t know how he became a zombie.

“Uhh, kinda just ended up in the place?”. “Oh, you didn’t have family or anything”, “No?”. “Ah, well for me my parents died in a car crash when the outbreak hit, now I’m on my own since my group left me”.

“Why did they leave you?”, “said I was deadweight, which wasn’t true. I did most of the shit they wanted”. “Forget em’ they aren’t worth it”. “I realised that thanks again, for the save.”. “It’s nothing don’t worry about it”.

The two then made their way out of the building, then got stuck by a wall. “Give me a hand will you?” he asked as he clumsily tried to climb the wall. Wilbur then gave him a boost and he climbed over, not without giving Wilbur his own hand to help him up.

Wilbur grabbed his hand, “Woah! You got a good grip!”. “I- yeah. Guess so”. He then helped Wilbur up the wall and the two continued their way to safety…

…

The two ran as fast as they could from the racing zombies, perhaps the two were a little bit too reckless with noise and were now getting chased down by a horde of Zombies. They ran into alleyways, alley after alley.

Eventually, though, they got cornered. Tommy brought his knife, prepared to defend his life. “Stay behind me!”, “What? Are you crazy?!”, “STAY BEHIND ME!”. He growled as he kept the boy behind him.

[waynedunlaptheorgandonor]

watched s11ep1

i will provide you with a quick review before i disappear back into the ether of twd avoidance

lots of spoilers under the cut. also i wrote way too much and i worked all night and haven’t slept so i didn’t bother to reread literally any of it, so it might be completely nonsensical, tho if you don’t expect that from me by this point idk whose blog you’ve been reading

enjoy:

hokay, first off, i’ll start by saying that i enjoyed it more than i expected to. i’ve been avoiding any sort of discussion about stuff, but my google algorithm is so fucked at this point that i still get recommended articles and stuff every now and then, so i was already pretty aware of what i was walking into, and was expecting it to be eh, but actually i prob enjoyed it more than i enjoyed the finale

(don’t get too excited tho, the finale was rly boring lmfao)

anyway

episode starts off with a tense scouting mission

it takes .005 seconds into the episode for caryl to exchange a look of longing, establishing that they are still having weird conflict and are both too fucking stubborn to do anything about it even tho they hate it desperately

i imagine that will continue for a while

rosita, kelly, carol, maggie, what’s her face with the bad hair, and lydia (i think that’s everyone?) lower down to some army bunker or something, where a bunch of walkers are taking a snooze, and the girls are very respectful of walker naptime, and do their best not to wake them up

obviously they eventually wake up, but i’ll get to that in a sec

as they’re tiptoeing through the walker tulips, there’s this split second where carol spots a machine gun, and looks at maggie with a face like, “can i plzzzz, i am mad horny for that machine gun,” but maggie tells her no. (i 110% expected her to defy orders and accidentally wake up all the walkers, but she actually behaved herself for once. well. mostly)

never fear, tho, after the girl gang collects a bunch of MREs they go back to wait for the dudes waiting up top to pull them up, and bc men ruin everything, one of the ropes break, and daryl catches it before it falls, but then a slow motion drop of blood falls on a walker’s face, and just like that, walker naptime is over, and carol uses her bow and arrow for two seconds before she is like “fuck this” and whips out the machine gun

yes, she is super hot using it

yes, daryl watches her do it

anyway, all the other girls get rescued, and carol is about to be pulled up, but bc she is a #girlboss, she first makes a beeline for one more crate full of MREs. daryl covers her while she gets the loot, and when she gets back up top they have another charged moment as carol hands him back his knife

just fuck already, jfc

titles!

cut to alexandria where everything is still not smilestimes

BUT, we do get to see uncle daryl run and hug rj and judith (and dog), and FUCKING HERSHEL JR, LIGHT OF MY LIFE is also there

istg, they could not have casted a better child, i a d o r e him

oh, and some friends of maggie’s show up too, idk

cut to a staff meeting where everyone is like, whomp whomp, we’re all gonna starve to death unless we figure out something quick

cue maggie going, “oh, i know where food is, but it requires me to tell you my tragic backstory, in case anyone didn’t watch my bottle episode”

she tells her dramatic backstory about all her friends getting slaughtered by the reapers for no apparent reason, and then she’s like “anyway, let’s go back there!”

no one thinks it’s a great idea, but a group of people decide to go anyway, including daryl and gabriel. rosita is super pissed that gabriel is going, and carol doesn’t go, probably partly bc it’s a shitty fucking idea, and also bc they have to keep caryl apart bc otherwise they’ll fix their problems ahead of schedule and they won’t be able to drag out the needless angst

daryl looks kind of annoyed that carol doesn’t volunteer to go 

bitch, i thought you wanted her to stop putting herself in the line of fire! make up your damn mind!

moving on

cut to a thunderstorm, where, if you look closely, you’ll notice daryl is wearing the STUPIDEST hat i’ve ever seen. just get an umbrella, jfc

for some reason negan is with them, bc ig he knows his way around washington dc, and no one in six years has bothered to figure out how to get around the city and/or get a map, and he is like “hey guys, maybe we shouldn’t try to walk in this fucking hurricane,” and everyone is like “FUCK YOU NEGAN, YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF US!!!” 

this will be a common occurrence 

but eventually daryl is even like “actually, it’s rly unpleasant out here, and my hat is mad stupid, can we go inside plz?”

so they go inside an old metro station, which is actually a rly cool cinematic choice. i rly like the idea, and they executed it rly well

speaking of executions

there are some fucking RULL CREEPY walkers. idk why they bothered me so badly, but they were what they at first assumed were corpses wrapped up in tarps, but turns out none of them had been properly put down, so they go through killing these rotted bodies that had supposedly been there since The Fall, and it’s very gross and cool

this entire time, btw, negan is like “hey, i know i’m a shitty person, but i have some rational arguments about why we shouldn’t be doing this right now,” and everyone is like, “FUCK YOU NEGAN, YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF US!!!” and he’s just like “god fucking damnit”

(i forgot to mention that at one point, when they’re headed into the metro station, negan is trying to warn ppl of the potential danger, and everyone is ignoring him, and he tries to talk to daryl, and daryl is like “fuck you, you think we’re BUDDIES?” and negan is like “oh, ok, so you’re gonna be like that too? fanfreakingtastic” and it’s very funny)

anyway. a fat monster zombie escapes its tarp at one point, and tries to eat some npc, and negan saves him, again is like “hey, anyone else realize that this is a FUCKING BAD PLAN?”, and everyone is like “we don’t care, you’re still shitty and we’re not listening to you, and you don’t actually care about random npc i would literally not be able to pick out in a lineup bc his face is so generic, you’re not the boss of us!!!”

it’s at this point that negan finally is like, “why am i even here? bc i know how to get around washington dc? do none of you have a map?” and i was like, “right?! that’s what i said!” 

it’s then revealed that maggie only brought negan along to murder him under the guise of “oops, he got hurt in the line of duty, it wasn’t my fault,” and daryl has this look on his face that says, “i seriously need to stop hanging out with lethal women bent on revenge bc it’s gonna give me high blood pressure,” and maggie has a badass moment where she points a gun she has for some reason at negan and is like “i have like, one shred of human compassion left inside of me, and if you keep pushing me i will fucking kill you without a second thought, so shut the hell up”

(in her defense, negan had just dropped glenn’s name to purposely antagonize her, which was rude as hell)

(for the record, i’m completely on maggie’s side here, but negan still is right that trapping themselves in a metro station is a bad call)

anyway, moving away from that briefly

i think this jump cut happens sooner, i don’t actually remember, but whatever who cares, point is, we get to the part of the show that actually matters, and that’s anything involving my love, juanita “princess” sanchez

and also eugene, yumiko, and ezekiel

they are being asked increasingly invasive questions by commonwealth ppl, some of which i wish they actually would of answered (what do they use to wipe their asses with?? surely toilet paper has long since become extinct)

zeke, who is so much more tolerable as a character now that he’s not larping as a king, has this incredibly weird and sort of sexually charged moment with a dude in an orange stormtrooper costume, where he’s like, “i bet you were an asshole cop back before The Fall, you stupid fascist, #fuckthepolice, mb literally? idk, this moment has a lot of pent up aggression that could easily translate to hate sex, it might just be the intense eye contact, but w/e, let’s just move along,” and then he has a coughing fit to remind the audience that he’s currently dying of cancer, and orange stormtrooper is like “lolz, loser, drink some water you dumb piece of shit”

cut to the wholesome foursome sitting at a picnic table in a guarded courtyard eating gruel, and yumkio, who finally has a personality, and princess are like “hey, this place fucking sucks, can we leave?” and zeke is like, “yeah, i met this orange stormtrooper who i think might be dtf and/or murder, so we should probably bounce”

but eugene is like, “but i want some hot stephanie ass, and also some bullshit excuse about how mb commonewealth will save alexandria” which, they left before things went super downhill, right? idr. it was after hilltop fell, but they don’t know alexandria got fucked either, if i recall? w/e, not important

two seconds after he says this, they talk to some people who are like “we’ve been here for four months, or maybe it’s been nine, i don’t actually remember, i’ve stopped processing the passage of time,” and the wholesome foursome takes this as a bad sign, tho that’s just the life i’ve lived as a night worker during a pandemic, so i was like #mood

but then they watch some guy get dragged away screaming to get “reprocessed” and eugene is like “ok, nvm, let’s bounce”

(my theory on what “reprocessing” is, is that they’re stuck in a room and have to watch hours and hours of customer service training videos on vhs from the 90s)

i definitely got my jump cut scenes mixed up bc i think the negan accusing maggie of a murder plot thing happened in between this scene and then the next commonwealth scene, but w/e, i’ll just finish what happens in the commonwealth arch

the wholesome foursome are trying to hatch a plan to escape, except princess, my love, is distracted watching some stormtroopers flirt, and the other three are like “wtf, dude, how can you even tell any of them apart?” and princess then tells them every stormtroopers backstory bc she is brilliant and pays rly close attention to shit, and the other three are like, “this is useful information, thank you for being an insane person”

their plan involves yumiko and eugene dressing up as stormtroopers and leading princess and zeke out of the place, which works fine actually, except on their way out they come across the Depressing Wall of Probably Mostly Dead Missing Loved Ones

they’re about to leave, when princess is like, “wait, yumiko, you’re on here, that’s weird huh?”

sure enough, yumiko  is on the wall, with a note from ig her sister 

the scene ends with yumiko going, “guys...i can’t leave...i have tragic backstory to unveil”

tragic backstory to be continued ig

back in murder metro town, npc and some other npc have stolen all the supplies, there’s a train blocking the track, and a horde of walkers are coming towards them, so things are not going fantastic

they horde is too big to take down, so they start to climb on top of the train car to get away

but dog runs away!

and daryl, being every pet owner ever, is like “gotta go get my dog, guys, try not to get killed while i’m gone, c u soon!” and he ducks under the train and disappears

#priorities

the episode ends with maggie climbing up the train car but getting grabbed by a walker and dangling off the edge, and negan is there and they have a lion king moment where maggie is like, “scar! help me!” and negan is like “long live the king, bitch” and walks away into the shadows, leaving maggie to a potential death

which, while i know isn’t actually going to happen, would be a really fucking funny move on the writers’ part

like, “look, lauren’s back! and now she’s dead, bet you didn’t expect that!”

anyway

my assumption is negan will actually end up helping her up or something, continuing his ambiguous morality bullshit that actually isn’t ambiguous bc he BEAT GLENN TO DEATH WITH A FUCKING BAT WRAPPED IN BARBED WIRE IN FRONT OF HIS PREGNANT WIFE

the maggie/negan arch is kind of dumb, but whatevs, i’ll tolerate it, as long as my boy glenn gets justice in the end

anyway, cue credits!

final assessment: good episode. i’m much more interested in commonwealth than the reapers, tho i am hoping that daryl’s personality-less ex turns out to be a monster killing machine with no conscience, that’ll be fun. princess is a gift from god. hershel jr needs his own tv show. needs more carol (and caryl)

the end! going back into my walking dead free chamber! see you next episode!

-diz

[hazerdouswaste]

A way too long and frankly monotonous detailing of how wack the ACV inventory system is:

While convenient and honestly a good system, it's also objectively funny that all of the important stuff goes in one place and all of the stupid useless shit goes in a different place that never gets checked ever because there's no carrying capacity, and really weird shit just keeps accumulating

I walked around for weeks irl with the Really Important Medical Book from Lunden without even realizing the game had me keep it- WHY do I have that on me I specifically made sure it wasn't burned so that Lunden didn't need to go back to "balancing humors" and could use its knowledge (which is just three paragraphs that take up the space of an entire book because I'm choosing to take that at face value and not assume it was shortened for the sake of the game and that all of Lunden's ailments were one of three specific things) then I just fucking walked off with it which means no one in Lunden can actually use it

It took me quite some time as well to figure out I've been casually holding on to the dagger my ally/sort-of-friend used to kill my son because he's obsessed with killing kings or their heirs

Though having an unrealistic quantity of large items isn't uncommon in games, the fact that I have an entire legionaire statue on my person, several bird cages, two compasses with no engravings, thirty three broken bows, five rectangular stones, one wedge of moldy cheese, dozens of other kinds of weird niche items, and no idea why any of these items save for the statue are in the game to begin with cause I sure as hell can't use them is odd because, well, they're completely useless and worth at max probably five sliver each (statue aside, I just thought it was notable that I can walk around with that for months at a time). I wouldn't be surprised if they were put there as an excuse to write flavor text, because flavor text is fun as hell to write when going through the tedious process of making a game. (Having written this all yesterday, I now realize I never even chose to pick up specifically these items because you never know what you're gonna get when you loot something or someone.)

Also as a side note isn't it wonderful how fucking complicated weapon/armor stats are without any instruction as to what anything means? I still have no idea what L-res, H-res, or Eva mean, even having looked them up at one point; as far as I know the only important factors are the first stat, upgrade potential and maybe rune slots

It's also really convenient that in canon, but not visually, I have a boat following me at all times, because otherwise there'd be no explanation for opening my inventory and seeing my 4,600 "supplies" (which have no explainable unit of measurement, I'm assuming I don't have 4,600 crates) and 320 "raw materials" (again, what the hell is the unit of measurement there?) while I'm way to inland to see any of the rivers nearby. And honesty, if basically building a hut from scratch requires 600(?) supplies and 200-300(?) raw materials generally, the boat doesn't exactly have realistic inventory either. Who keeps building supplies in chests anyway? Those chests seem a little bit small...

I want a mod that simulates the noise of all of my dozens of runes, trinkets, scraps of metal, keys, roman artifacts, viper eggs, dead eels, broken gear, shells, dental, silver, and instruments I can't use banging together as I run

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Birthday Sequence

Three friends have their birthday in a month of each other, and the parties get progressively more interesting. Content warnings for coarse language, offscreen sexuality, underage drinking and the consequences thereof.

As always, check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag for more, let me know if you enjoyed reading, and if you want to chat or ask a question, my askbox is open.

~*~*~*~

"You look great."

Idia made a whine you were certain they could hear in Savannahclaw and put his face in his hands. "Why did no one tell me about the birthday event?"

"I dunno, because we'd all assumed you'd seen everyone else put on the prissy little birthday boy suit and dance around like an idiot while I did an interview, and realized you weren't exempt."

"But why didn't you make Crowley skip me?" He looked ready to cry, so you you got up on tiptoes to kiss his nose and dry his tears, which simply had the opposite effect.

"Because maybe I wanted to see you dressed up pretty for a change?"

He just groaned. "Wasn't the festival enough?"

"Never enough; not with you. I'll make sure me and Ortho are your bodyguards, okay? Now, get out there and pretend they're all in their underwear. I got a present on the table for you. And..."

"And?"

"If you're truly overwhelmed, I'll bring you back here to hide, and get you out of the monkey suit myself."

It took him three seconds to turn a truly absurd shade of pink, and flee out the door of his room. The only thing scarier than a crowd where you're the center of attention is a lover who's relentless in voicing her attraction, if you're a neurotic dweeb with a molten core of self-hatred.

~*~*~*~

He'd relaxed somewhat as the presents went on. After checking with each person if they'd rather he open it now or in private (shuddering every time someone said now, in fear of bad reactions), he'd so far wound up with a super mega deluxe vinyl release of the Moirai's most recent album (despite not owning a record player, but it came with the digital album and lots of feelers so he still liked it very much), piles of sweets, and wouldn't have to pay for the subscriptions on most of his game for at least two years. And, he still had a pile to go through.

"Who's this one?"

"That's me. Go ahead."

He lifted the lid off the box, and took out a little creature, a sofubi toy of transluscent grey plastic painted with pearly stripes and shiny green eyes. "I've never seen this Nyarochi before." He turned it this way and that, a small smile on his lips. "Where'd you get this?"

"I got it blank at that second hand shop you showed me."

"... Blank." You could see the gears turning.

"Why do you think I asked to borrow your airbrush?"

Turning, turning... there we go. "You did this?"

"Yeah, dude. One of a kind, just for you."

He looked back and forth between you and the toy, smile growing. Once finally settled on you, he lit up - literally; his hair let out a bright, sparking burst that left spots in your eyes. You think he might have said thank you, you were too busy reeling from the sweetness of his expression, all directed at you, and little Nyarochi was tucked in his jacket pocket until he finally left for his room, you in tow.

~*~*~*~

"Hey Sam."

"Hey, Yuu. What can I get for you this fine day?"

"I got a list. I'm making something for Lilia. Did you know he's a new year's baby?"

"I did!" Sam scanned the list, only to set it down and raise an eyebrow at you. "I have much of this, and can order almost all the rest. You do know I'm not allowed to sell alcohol to a minor."

"It ain't for me, though. Do you know where I can get it?"

He shuffled around in a drawer before sliding a card across the table. "In Stock Now! The solution to your problem."

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. "Sam. Does Crowley know you're selling fake IDs?" Your turned it over. "Really, really good fake IDs?"

"Crowley lets me do what I want, because I might stop doing what he wants."

You laughed. "Gross. Alright, I don't know the price, but can I get a discount if I help you stock a few weekends?"

"I'll do layaway just for you, if you come in next week."

~*~*~*~

"Yuu!" Lilia leapt at you, and you swung him around in a hug. "It's so great to have you here! Where's my loot?"

"I got to finish it, let me go a minute."

He did, and watched with interest as you set up from your cooler. You ran a lime around the rim of a glass, and crust it with red salt before filling it with ice.

"Yuuuuuuu. My little darling. You know I'm too young to drink."

"No you're not, dude. it's an open secret, like what happens in that shed behind the gym stays there and you don't get admitted to NRC if you're completely heterosexual." You added the mix to the glass, before tossing in a celery stick and sliding it over to him.

He barked out a laugh and took the glass. "That's true all right." He sipped at it and smiled. "What is it?"

"At home they call it a Caesar. I made up a shitton and I'm leaving you with the recipe, which you have to follow. I figure you liked your tomato juice, so..."

"It is just my taste. Thank you." You'd only blinked, and he'd already finished it and slid the glass back. "More, please."

~*~*~*~

You'd learned two things tonight, of which you'd only dimly suspected one. The first was that Lilia could probably drink the entire school under the table, staff and ghosts included. The second, far more interesting thing, was that when tipsy, Lil talked about his past, and in his past, he truly redefined the meaning of "absolute slut".

Looking like a particularly cute teenybopper had not stopped him from fucking his way through most of the Court of Thorns, and a great deal of the places he'd visited, in ways both inventive and more than occasionally disturbing. You really, really ought to stop him; poor Mal was standing out on the balcony with his fingers in his ears, singing very loudly to drown out the noise, but you were too busy taking notes. Kalim was listening to his fellow Light Music Club member in awe, and Cater had been recording for the past forty five minutes, though you were pretty sure if he uploaded any of this his Magicam account would get permabanned for pornographic content.

"And that's when his sister - fabulous woman, cunt like a ripe fig and she'd start giggling every time you..." he stopped and swirled his empty glass. "Where'd my drink go?"

"You drank it all, dear. There's none left."

"Aww. Why'd I have to share it all." He set his glass down and plucked the half-full one from in front of Silver's sleeping form. "Hey, did I ever tell you what I got up to with his," nodding out towards Malleus,"his grandmother?"

You never found out, as Mal simply bodied him clean across the room before any more could be said.

~*~*~*~

"Vil."

"What."

"Can I borrow your lab equipment?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why."

"I wanna make perfume."

He brightened. "Finally decided to stop smelling like a haunted house?"

"Vil, I actually pay real money for perfume that smells like a haunted house. I have multiple. Sometimes I layer them, to mix with the natural scent of the haunted house I already live in. And it's not for me, though if this works I might try to make stuff for myself."

He wrinkled his nose at you, somehow not creasing his makeup. "Why should I help you?"

You thought about it, and then shrugged. "Well. Why not?"

"... I hate that I can't argue with that. Come on."

~*~*~*~

You have no idea if the party was sedate because of the relatively few people outside of Diasomnia, or because everyone was scared of potential etiquette breaches. You could not complain either way; parties wore on you as they went on and Idia hadn't tried to leave in fear. Either way, Mal was starting to go from blandly cheerful host to fretful.

"What if there is too much cake? I don't wan't to have to finish it."

"You don't have to, dude. Cake's for sharing."

"When I was young, I was the only person at my party who wasn't a servant. So I would end up eating the entire cake by myself, every time." He stared off into the middle distance. "I don't really like cake."

"That's the single saddest thing I have ever heard in my entire life, holy shit dude."

"Why have a cake then, if you don't like it?" Idia was halfway through his piece. Third piece, actually. You envied his capacity to eat what seemed like his weight in buttercreme and not get nauseous, even if you worried for his pancreas.

"Tradition," Mal said, as if he was explaining the most obvious thing in the world.

"You should have done an ice cream cake, then. You actually like that."

"That is an option?" He paused, eyes full of wonder. "What else can be ice cream?"

You cut in before Malleus could continue down a road of ice-cream-everything. "You know, if you're that worried about leftovers, why not send a wrapped slice with the thank you cards for the gifts? Gets rid of it all so you won't be compelled to eat it ‘til you're sick."

Mal instantly grabbed you. "You are a brilliant, amazing, genius of a person. I'm glad you're my Son of Man and I like you very much."

Idia gave the tinest of coughs, looking towards the poison-coloured flames in the fireplace.

"You are mine too. I like the special case for my Dragon-Kun very much."

"Thought you would." He smiled down at his plate.

"Oh, shit, yeah. Here's mine." You brought the bag out from behind your seat and handed it over; Mal shredding it in his excitement.

"... What is this?" the box inside revealed a set of five amber bottles with screw-on tops.

"Your own special perfume blend. Rose petals from the Heartslabyul garden, blackberries, and the fruit of a blackthorn tree." You leaned back in your seat and struggled not to laugh at your own hideous pun. "I call it Feeling Thorny."

Good thing the box was well padded, because he dropped it in his laughter. Idia, bless his heart, wound up choking on some of the cake and needed an entire glass of water to stop coughing.

"I got the goods!" Lilia and Sebek had returned, the latter glowering at you over the top of a dusty crate as though he'd assumed you'd simply eat his precious prince alive the second his back was turned.

"What's the goods, Lil."

"Well, he's got friends he made here for this party, so I figured I'd crack something open from my stash." He pried the top of the crate with his bare hands, which would have made you need to sit down if you hadn't been already. "Saving this for a special occasion."

"Lilia, there's no need to bring that out for us."

"Nonsense! You deserve it! And this party's too damned slow. A little wine will be just the thing, and this is very light stuff, you'll all be fine."

You doubted that, but still accepted the glass of liquid gold when offered. It smelled sweet and floral, and to your pleasant surprise, did not taste like fermented misery when sipped.

Wait a minute.

"Lil, if I drink the fairy wine, I don't have to go live in the Valley of Thorns forever, do I?"

Malleus, seizing opportunity, sad "Yes" at the same time Lilia said "No" and Lil elbowed Mal in the ribs for it. "I'm not invoking any of our more traditional rules of hospitality. If I must," he said, elbowing Mal again before he could try to weave anything, "Let this be in return for being such wonderful friends to both me and my boy."

"I'll accept it." You sipped more as Silver wandered over and leaned over Idia for a glass himself. Idia simply drained his own to try and distract himself from the proximity of him before the anxiety kicked into high gear. Maybe it would vanish entirely if you got him profoundly drunk, you thought to yourself, but that wasn't something you wanted to try. He had enough issues without his deciding alcoholism was the solution to his problems.

Time to settle down and enjoy the evening. The wine didn't feel like anything, so what could possibly happen?

~*~*~*~

You woke up with a pounding head, your party clothes in disarray, and new and interesting pains. You examined yourself and your surroundings, and let things come back naturally.

Lilia, being very generous with his bottles, to the point of not letting a glass go empty at any point. Malleus sitting with his legs crossed and head in his hands, gazing warmly and not without hunger at a both very animated and disheveled Idia as he talked. You getting up to leave, and sitting right back down because your legs didn't work, so you'd simply...

Simply wound up here in Mal's bed, instead of home. With both of your boys.

The evidence wasn't the best. No telltale soreness, but you had a number of new and interesting bite marks, including one very high on your inner thigh with the dentition clearly showing fangs. Your underwear was in place, even if the tule of your pannier was shredded, so you didn't think you'd done anything more than very heavy petting. And to tell the truth? The idea of having done anything more didn't bother you - truly, there weren't other people you'd rather have done it with - but the idea that you had? And you couldn't recall all the fun details? Agonizing.

You leaned over, holding your head, to brush the hair off of Mal's face. He looked at ease, and had managed to slot himself into his weird pillows, so at least he wouldn't wake up with a crick in his neck.. You checked your boyfriend, clinging to Mal's far side like a lanky blue limpet. On his collarbone, at the spot where you preferred to leave your own marks, was a bite similar to the one on your leg. You had to turn away at the sight; the images it brought to your mind left your flushed and dizzy with want despite your pain. How fun, to learn new and interesting things about yourself.

Idia stirred and sat up. He looked to you, to Mal, to you again. His face had no expression beyond starting to turn rapidly grey and sweaty.

You pointed. "That door."

He nodded once before stumbling off to bed and through the bathroom door, to puke away his hangover.

Alright, next step. You poked at your sleeping friend. "Mal. You alive?"

He opened both eyes, bloodshot with a hair-thin pupil, and started making a noise akin to a base boosted tea kettle up 'til you placed a pillow over his head to shut him up. Fortunately, it worked immediately, he lay where he was like an idiot until adjusting it so the pillow merely blocked the top of his face.

"Yuu. How are you feeling?"

You thought about it. "Like I got run through a laundry press. You?"

He smacked his lips and ran his tongue over his teeth. "My mouth has grown fur."

"Wonderful."

"Light hurts."

"Par for the course."

"I'm not sure what else yet. Where is Shroud?"

Another bout of heaving from Malleus's bathroom answered that thoroughly.

Mal pouted. "Poor thing. He didn't even have that much."

"We all had enough. I'm still remembering bits and pieces."

He reached towards you and grabbed your arm, squeezing. "You are... you..." As much as he struggled for the words, the anxiety in his voice made the meaning clear enough.

"I'm not upset over any of it. I just hate that I don't recall it clearly yet." You extracted your arm from his grasp, and slid off the bed. "I'm gonna get water from the hall bathroom. You want any?"

He smacked his lips again, and smiled, wider than you'd ever seen him do before, specks of blood still crusted in the grooves of his teeth. "I can still taste you on my tongue. I never want it to fade."

"Hhhhhholy shit you need water. Bye." You left to try and hide the wobbling in your legs that wasn't from the hangover.

~*~*~*~

"You."

You stopped, and stared. It took an entire four seconds to realize that the large, half-dressed green bean glaring at you from the doorway was Sebek before he styled his hair in the morning. "You mean like, my name, or just me in general?"

He pointed a finger, hissing out his words. "You finally did it! You evil little minx."

"I didn't, actually, or at least not what you think."

He kept going, trying to keep his voice down. "You've seduced Lord Malleus! And now you're going to try and steal the crown."

What in the actual fuck. And he wasn't done yet. "You cruel temptress! Leading him on just so that you could become a queen our people would detest! My poor lord, at the whims of some-"

"Hey, you jealous there, Zig? You mad you aren't serving him all ways? If you want his dick so bad-"

"Shhhhhhhhh!" He looked over his shoulder, back inside, before glaring back at you. "I couldn't do that in good conscience! Lord Malleus deserves someone who holds only him in their heart. He's not my whole heart, so I wouldn't try. You, you have damn near everyone here wrapped around your fingers! And it's still not enough for you!"

"Sebek! He is my friend. And I give zero fucks about the whole throne thing, just so you know. Why would I want to be a queen? That shit sounds exhausting. And he isn't going to ascend until my great grandkids are in the dirt, so, yanno, shit planning if I tried."

Sebek was trying to think of a rebuttal when a pair of hands squeezed him from behind. "Stop yelling. I'm going to brush my teeth." Silver let go and circled around, dragging his hand along Sebek's waist as he did. "Be ready when I'm back." With that, he walked past you with his small smirk to the bathroom you'd just exited, wearing nothing but one of Sebek's shirts.

You watched the hemline skirting the back of his thighs with entirely too much interest before looking back at Sebek. "God damn, dude."

"Say anything else and I will throw you out the window."

~*~*~*~

Mal had traded his bed for sitting on the floor, braced against the wall by the bathroom. He'd managed to close the drapes against the garish light of morning, and the sounds from beyond the wall had changed from sickness to a running shower as you gave Mal a cup. "Drink up, asshole."

"How am I an asshole?"

"Because it's your birthday we all got drunk at."

"Please blame Lilia for that. Fairy wine is not something humans should start the evening with." He sipped the water and grimaced.

"Taste bad?"

"I forgot I didn't want to put anything else in my mouth after you."

"Mal, no. There won't be a repeat, even if I don't really regret it."

He looked at you with heart about to break. "Why not?"

"It's not fair to either of you! I love you dearly, but I'm not in love with you. I'm in love with him." You sighed. Even as more of last night came back, you realized you may have broken the whole thing beyond repair. "And how would you like it if you saw me running around with someone else? Don't say you wouldn't be jealous. You've got a five mile streak of it."

Mal was silent, before saying very quietly, "I don't mind so much after having him too."

"Yeah, well." You put your head in your hands. "You're sure he didn't jump out the window to hide in his room forever after that?"

Mal knocked againt the door, wincing at the noise. "Idia? You are present? You're alive in there?"

A few moments before that shaky reply of "I'm not sure, check in five minutes."

Mal smiled. "That's promising, is it not?"

"You know I can hear you out there, right?"

"I didn't."

"I can." More silence. "Also, the window doesn't open."

You quirked your mouth. "Is the shower helping? I might need a turn."

"Some."

"Do you want to talk about last night?"

More silence, before a small, "Not yet," as the shower shut off. "Can I borrow a robe? My clothes are wet."

"Go ahead, Idia."

He exited in a cloud of steam and purple-black terrycloth, and simply laid down on the floor, gripping it as if he would fly off.

"Still bad?"

He noded, cheek pressed against the floor. Fresh from the water, his hair was low enough that you could make out the actual hair on his head, each glowing like the finest fiber optic thread.

"Well. I don't think any of us are going to class today. So stay as long as you need to."

"Thank god, I don't want to try those damned stairs until my head's on right." You thought to yourself for a moment. "Is Ortho okay?"

Idia actually managed a smile. "I told him I was thinking of staying over and trying to activate event flags."

It took you a moment to understand the implications of that. "Noooo. This was not your idea."

"Mal wasn't. But. Ummmmm." He held up a hand and wiggled it. "He was there?"

"Your boyfriend is interestingly pliable when someone puts their mouth on him. A trait you both share, actually."

You felt ready to burst into flames. This could not be happening. "So who's idea was you getting under my skirts, Mal? That bruise is going to last weeks."

"Yours, actually. You wouldn't let go of my horns until you were satisfied."

The memory of that, and more, hit you like a transport truck, and you simply laid down and refused to say anything until Lilia burst in, disgustingly chipper and with a platter of burnt toast to chew on until the worst of the hangover was gone.

[anestheticrage]

Be you: Morgan Yu (a name so fitting Yu might forget you're not You) scientist extraordinaire, catchin’ some z's in your penthouse apartment. Got red in the eyes, and needles in the brain. Big Bro Yu calls to say how excited he is to stick more needles in Yu. we can roll with that. ride a helicopter to see the Title, press some buttons, move some crates, watch the doctor get eaten by a big ol’ black spider. typical day at the offi-

Be you: Morgan Yu, scientist extraordinaire, catchin so-  wait, wtf is going on? Who moved the cereal. also that’s one fake ass helicopter, and now a calendar is talking to Yu, and all the apples and coffee mugs are actually spiders, and your penthouse is a space station. this sounds like a job for the trusty wrench. Wait, did i accidentally click on System Shock…

become the paranoid monster you were always meant to be, and smash every inanimate object between Yu and that office. Stick with the disembodied voices, they’ll know what to do. Big Bro is happy you’re alive, but says Yu need to get your shit together and embrace your potential as the ultimate hybrid Cyberpunk alien god. expectations are high, but anxiety is higher. Calendar says fuck that, blow shit up. sounds like a plan. go meet calendar in person... err, machine, and realize it's you. Not Yu, you. Just you. Not to be confused with other Yu, or other you. You tells Yu that Yu were you, and that you said 'blow up everything', but other other you says run away. Wonder what Yu thinks?

hit snooze on your introspective personality crisis slash moral dilemma, cause it’s time to recycle. luckily people materials come in three easy to identify color coded cubes, and alien materials are a bouncy purple ball. Yu’d think this technology would be hard to come by, but luckily theres a cube n’ ball machine around every corner like its fucking Starbucks.

now the spiders are people, and the people are dead, and the dead are everywhere, and so are the spiders. adopt 'scream and run away' policy as a legitimate strategy, while trying to collect enough cubes and orbs to make more of the needles that got you here in the first place. hard to learn from history when JFK didn't actually die, and also oh right you have no M e M o R i E s

its a spider, its a wrench, its a SHOTGUN. oh how the turn tables have tided. feel unstoppable for all of 30 seconds until the floaty bois arrive and all the ammo is gone. fuck TriOptimum…. i mean Transtar, and their shitty ammo distribution. id almost rather fight plagues and rats with a foldable sword...

INTERMISSION 

oh shit wait Yu GET TO FLOAT IN SPACE WITH A JETPACK, MOTHERFUCKER, NEVER MIND I TAKE IT ALL BACK. it’s the one mechanic to save them all. nothing screams spacepunk dystopia like looting a mutilated corpse in the void. Glide around for about an hour to see all the locked doors at your disposal, get bored cause space is still just space, and now it’s time to get your boots back on the ground to sAvE tHe WoRlD or whatever You, Yu, and other You keep going on about. But first have an apple and a nice refreshing bottle of  - GOD DAMMIT WILL YOU STOP RIPPING OFF FACES EVERY 5 SECONDS

Big Bro and the calendar are at it again. yes yes, fate of the human race… brainwashing, needles, convoluted plots, evil experiments… got it got it. Pretend to be listening while you hack into every god damn email ever sent on this space station. oh shit you have an ex girlfriend and shes still alive. maybe you can get something out of all this bullshit after all. hopefully she has a kink for needle marks

up the non-elevator to turn on the elevator, to go back down another elevator, to the other elevator, that leads back to the first elevator that takes us to the door we were already at that needed to be opened to begin with. It’s almost like the physical maze of the space station is a metaphor for the complex labyrinth of morality for an individual with no true past and the fate of a species in their amnesiatic hands……..

maybe if there was as much ammo as there are loading screens on this fucking station we could have actually stopped this before space satan took over everything. 

and now there are glowy cobwebs everywhere sending mysterious premonitions that make it more obvious than ever that the disembodied voices are lying to Yu. shocker. 

grow some apples, play some dnd with dead people, unearth a black market smuggling ring, and participate in the best lesbian revenge plot since The Handmaiden. rescue Javik from his own stupidity and emotional distress cause Mozart is the key to happiness in the space apocalypse. Inevitably run out of side quests and cubes and orbs and needles and realize it’s time to get this whole saving the world business over with, so Yu can get some fucking sleep, and I can play SOMETHING FUN

The voices all agree Yu need to reboot the station. Oh hey it’s your nearly dead ex who controls the power button. Isn’t that convenient “have you tried turning it off and on again?” THANKS. DIDN’T THINK OF THAT. GLAD THAT DEGREE IS REALLY PAYING OFF. NO WONDER WE BROKE UP

turn it off and on again. oh... guess that worked.

Help your ex score some drugs to cure her Space Diabetes, only to find out that you (not Yu) murdered her dad for Science™

Now the fuzz is here via a series of bad decisions on everyones part, most specifically your parents for ever giving birth to Yu, but also other reasons such as: corporate evil, and plot holes. zap a bunch of flying robots and the guy who owns them cause honestly why have a difficult boss fight when literally every encounter has been. a. fucking. boss. fight. 

Finally meet up with Big Bro to get the kaboom key, get the biotic god pitch once again, continue to not speak to anyone and pretend you’re in a simulation (>.>) get interrupted by the ultimate eldritch horror. *see: 'scream and run away'

Back on the elevator for the hundredth time. God, I hate this thing. Check your ammo: empty. Check your health: dying. Check your brain: needles. Classic. Get out. Immediately come face to face with your own waking Nightmare. Jump back in the elevator. God, I love this thing.

Watch you and other Yu get into it one last time and finally decide to blow everything up or control Space Satan.

Roll Credits

WAIT ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS, I JUST PUT LIKE 30 HOURS INTO THAT GAME, YOU CANT JUST CUCK ME WITH SOME 10 SECOND ENDI-

Be Yu/You???: strapped in a chair with Big Bro and the robo squad looking down at you. Verbally break down your choices almost like they were a morality scale in a convoluted and heavy handed video game. Realize your arms look like spiders. Realize you’re space jesus. #worthit

Big Bro offers you his hand so you can ask yourself one last time:

 "Who are Yu?"