#wills radio transmissions

[underthesmilesunderthefun]

i am in fact, so normal about the trains i had to get a tattoo to commemorate it

[ryunumber]

Spooky from Spookys House Of Jumpscares/Spookys Jumpscare Mansion

Spooky has a Ryu Number of 5/4/does not have a Ryu Number.

(update and explanation below)

(UPDATE: Per @penndragon, Cross Impact has hit Early Access.)

(UPDATE 2: Per @mr-self-suck-by-nin, confirmation of the Cooking Companions protagonist identity gives Spooky an unambiguous Ryu Number of 4.)

Look, it's complicated. Things will be more concrete when Cross Impact hits Early Access.

Fair warning: this explanation is a bit more involved than normal, because the research hole this sent me down had me sincerely doubting my own base competence.

So, from the top: Spooky's only eligible appearance is in her own game, Spooky's Jump Scare Mansion née House of Jump Scares, as her only other appearance, period, seems to be as a trophy in Indie Pogo.

Naturally, this makes SJSM's specimens as the only connecting points. I've identified three that could work:

Unknown Specimen 1 is just White Face from IMSCARED.

This seems to be a dead end, as White Face's only other eligible appearance seems to be in the Nightmare Mode of Cooking Companions, as part of a menagerie of other horror game characters, including SJSM's own Specimen 6. But all of those also seem to be dead ends, and Specimen 6 just gets back to where we started, so that's probably no good.

How about Unknown Specimen 5?

Named Lisa. Sure looks quite a bit like Lisa from P.T. and once-prospective Silent Hills. Let's say it's that Lisa. What else has Lisa been in?

Apparently just P.T., which wouldn't be altogether unsurprising given, you know, all that happened with Silent Hills. Even the Lisa decoys for Metal Gear Solid V showcased in the Tokyo Game Show 2014 trailer didn't make it to the final game.

But there are still other P.T. references that did make it. Namely, that pleasant radio transmission, interruptions and all, can be heard from some radios in MGSV.

Now, given that audio-only appearances are broadly eligible, you could make a case that whoever's reading in this transmission is a character themself, which would in turn connect Lisa to The Phantom Pain, at which point calculating the Ryu Number is just a matter of hashing out who exactly is and is not in MGSV. The only issue I have with making this connection is that the audio is basically reused wholesale from P.T., which arguably makes it more in line with an archival recording, which is not eligible, than bespoke radio chatter, which is eligible, but hey, whatever, I've peddled dodgier. Why the hell not.

So in the search of a route with less caveats, let's consider what I've identified as the last possible eligible connection, Specimen 8. This cervine bundle of fun can be seen in Lost in Vivo as part of Lost Tape 3.

It turns out there's another character in Lost in Vivo who's been in something else: Sotiris. It also turns out that the "something else" in question is, uh,

the EEK3 2020 Virtual Show Floor. Which, to the best of my knowledge, is never referred to as a game, so if that matters to you, then we're done, and Spooky either has the aforementioned route through Lisa or nothing.

If you're willing to say that the virtual show floor is a game, which does not seem to be an unpopular opinion, then good news! There's a clear path to Ryu. You just have to go through Skully, who cameos in Toree 3D,

to the titular Toree, who's a guest character in Lunistice,

to Kit, the main character of Lunistice, who cameos in CrossCode,

to Lea, whose Ryu Number of 2 is already established, which gives Spooky a final Ryu Number of I'm sorry, I'm being handed a note.

Oh. Well fuck me, then, for not considering that the realities of game development could lead to a scenario wherein a character from an in-progress game could make cameo appearances in other games, only to be scrapped entirely before their would-be source game is released. Clearly, this is what the kids refer to as a "skill issue".

And the best part? This chain is so long that I'm genuinely expecting to have overlooked something really obvious that gives a shorter number, because the documentation I found on indie-ass indie horror game crossovers is spotty. So if you have any information that could shorten this more substantial than "White Face is graffiti in the full release of FAITH", send it my way. I'd rather be definitely wrong than dubiously correct.

Anyway, Toree's set to be playable in Cross Impact, so when that's released to the wider public most of this nonsense I just spewed at you will actually come into play. Until then, make of all of this what you will. If you'll excuse me, I need to go fucking distort.

[rootedinrevisions]

Friends (with Benefits) Dont: Part 7

AUTHOR'S NOTE: You guys know I couldn't leave you hanging after that last part! There will be one final part coming tomorrow but for now I need sleep and am going to head to bed. Keep an eye out for the final part tomorrow!

SUMMARY: The emotional reunion between you and Jake unfolds on the deck of the aircraft carrier, where anticipation hangs thick in the air as you wait for him to land. When he finally appears, relief washes over you, but the pain on his face is a stark reminder of the danger he faced. Embracing him feels like the world fades away, yet the weight of unspoken feelings looms between you. Later, as he recovers in the med bay, you sit by his side, both grappling with the aftermath of his confession and the silence that followed. In this tender yet complicated moment, you find comfort in each other, setting the stage for a new chapter in your relationship that promises to redefine everything you thought you knew.

4o mini

OTHER PART(S): PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

WARNINGS: FLUFF.

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS BELOW

The salty breeze whipped through your hair as you stood on the deck of the aircraft carrier, heart pounding in your chest. The vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean stretched before you, but your gaze remained fixed on the horizon, straining to catch a glimpse of Jake. Every second felt like an eternity, the anticipation gnawing at you.

You barely registered Rooster’s plane as it swooped in for a landing, the familiar roar of engines drowned out by the anxious thrum of your own thoughts.

People tried to approach, offering words of comfort, but you brushed them off with a shake of your head. You couldn’t focus on anything but the hope—and fear—of seeing Jake again. Memories of his last radio transmission echoed in your mind, and you fought to suppress the wave of emotions threatening to crash over you. What if he didn’t come back? What if the next plane to touch down carried news that shattered your heart? You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the horizon to yield the figure you desperately needed to see.

Minutes stretched on, each passing moment deepening your anxiety until finally, a speck appeared in the sky. The roar of engines grew louder, and adrenaline surged through your veins. It was the search and rescue jet that had been sent after Jake had ejected.

As soon as the plane touched down, you found yourself sprinting across the deck, adrenaline fueling your every step. Your heart raced as you approached the jet, watching intently as Rooster and Coyote helped Jake down, their expressions a mixture of relief and concern.

Jake leaned heavily on them, his face pale and drawn, but your breath caught in your throat when his eyes found yours. A spark ignited in his gaze, and a smile broke across his face, lighting up the shadows that clung to him.

“Hey sweetheart, you miss me?” He called out, his voice laced with that familiar teasing tone, and it was so absurdly silly that a laugh escaped your lips despite the weight in your chest. 

You stood frozen for a moment, torn between wanting to rush to him and the instinct to hold back, afraid to hurt him with a hug. The pain etched on his face was unmistakable, and you hesitated, wanting to make sure he was truly okay.

“Are you going to come over here, or just stand there looking pretty?” he teased, raising an eyebrow as his smile grew, that glimmer of mischief still intact despite the circumstances.

Nodding in response, you finally closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him close. The warmth of his body against yours felt like home, a balm to your frayed nerves.

Jake let go of Rooster, using one arm to anchor himself around your back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel the weight of him, the exhaustion pressing down on his shoulders, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. You held him tightly, feeling the rise and fall of his breath against your skin, grounding yourself in the reality that he was here, alive, and safe. No words were needed; the intensity of your embrace said everything you both felt.

You and Jake remained locked in your embrace, time seeming to stretch indefinitely as the chaos of the aircraft carrier faded into the background. The world around you blurred, and all that mattered was the warmth of his body, the scent of him, and the relief flooding through you that he was finally here, in your arms. It felt like a dream, one you never wanted to wake from. But just as you began to lose yourself completely in the moment, a voice broke through the haze.

“Seresin, they’re waiting for you in the med bay,” Admiral Cyclone announced, his tone clipped and professional.

You instinctively began to pull away from Jake, concern flooding your mind at the thought of him needing medical attention. But his grip tightened around your waist, holding you close, as if he couldn't bear the thought of letting you go just yet.

“I know,” Jake replied, his voice steady despite the tension. “But I’ve got one thing I need to do first.”

He exchanged a knowing glance with Coyote, who nodded but warned, “Keep it short, Hangman.”

With that, Jake turned to you, his expression shifting from relief to a kind of intensity that made your heart race. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and serious, as if this moment meant more than just a casual brush of lips.

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth spreading through you as you nodded. “Yes.”

Jake leaned in, closing the distance between you as he captured your lips with his. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle reassurance, but it quickly deepened, filled with a desperate hunger and emotion that had been building between you both. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that took your breath away, and for that fleeting moment, the rest of the world faded away again, leaving just the two of you suspended in time.

* * * * *

You received the news that Jake had been cleared from the medical building, and your heart raced with anticipation. After what felt like an eternity of worry, you made your way to his room, the sterile scent of antiseptic and the soft hum of fluorescent lights guiding you. You hesitated briefly at the door, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

Jake lay propped up in bed, looking better than the last time you saw him but still weary. His eyes lit up the moment he saw you, a smile breaking across his face that chased away the shadows of the past few days. You slipped into the chair beside him, your heart swelling at the sight of him, finally safe.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, your voice soft but filled with concern.

“Better now that you’re here,” he replied, his grin wide and genuine.

You smiled back but then tilted your head slightly. “No, really. How do you feel?”

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Like I just got shot out of the sky.”

Your smile faltered for a second, the gravity of his words crashing into you. You rolled your eyes, not ready to let his joke lighten the moment. 

“Is it too soon for that?” He looked momentarily sheepish, realizing that his attempt at humor might not land well. “Yeah, probably. Sorry about that.”

The atmosphere shifted, and the unspoken words hung between you like a thick fog. “We need to talk about... what you said,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake’s expression turned serious. “I know. I’m sorry for doing it the way I did. I was worried I wouldn’t make it back this time, and I needed you to know.”

“Jake… I need you to know how much you mean to me. How much I love you.” His gaze softens even more as you speak, the intensity of his focus unwavering. “I love every moment we spend together. Every single one. But when you went down…” Your voice catches, but you push through, the words trembling with the fear you’ve been carrying. “I was terrified. All I could think about was if I’d never see you again. If you never got the chance to come back to me.”

Jake’s face falls, guilt flashing across his features. 

He opens his mouth again, but you’re already leaning forward, softening the moment with a teasing smile. “But if you ever scare me like that again, I swear, I’ll shoot you down myself.”

The seriousness of the moment breaks as Jake chuckles, the sound low and warm. His smile is brighter now, his eyes twinkling with a familiar spark. “You know, I wouldn’t put it past you,” he says, his voice light despite everything.

His smile lingers as he shifts slightly in the bed, wincing a little from the movement.

He pats the small space next to him, raising an eyebrow. “Come here.”

You hesitated, your heart racing at the proximity it would bring. “I don’t know, Jake. Aren’t you supposed to rest?”

He smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. “Rest? Please. I was shot at and had to eject from my jet. Are you really going to deny me holding my girl?”

Your stomach fluttered at his words, and a smile crept onto your face despite yourself. With a small laugh, you shifted closer, carefully lying down next to him. As you nestled against him, you looked up, your eyes meeting his.

“Your girl, huh?” You said, a teasing tone in your voice.

Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah…my girl,” he repeated, his voice warm and filled with sincerity.

His arm wraps around you as you settle into his side, your head resting against his chest, listening to the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart.

As you settle against Jake, the warmth of his body easing your frayed nerves, you feel your eyes growing heavier. Every muscle in your body feels like it’s finally starting to relax, the adrenaline and fear of the day slowly draining away. Jake must notice because his hand, still tracing soft circles on your arm, pauses for a moment.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. You tilt your head slightly to look up at him, and you catch the soft concern in his eyes, though his smile remains steady. “You should get some sleep.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head gently before you can say anything. “I’m fine, darlin’,” he says, his thumb brushing lightly over your arm, a gentle reassurance. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

His words are a balm to your exhausted mind. You trust him completely, but the fear that gripped you earlier still lingers in the corners of your thoughts. Now, though, it feels distant, fading into the background as the reality of having him here—safe, alive, holding you—grounds you.

You nod softly, too tired to say anything more, and let your head sink back against his chest. Jake’s steady heartbeat becomes the only sound you focus on, each rhythmic thud lulling you closer to sleep. His arm tightens around you just a bit, a silent promise that he’s not letting go, that you’re safe.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. The tenderness in his voice is enough to make your chest ache, but this time, it’s a different kind of ache—one filled with love and relief instead of fear.

The last thing you feel before sleep takes over is the warmth of Jake’s body, the rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. And for the first time in what feels like days, peace finally settles over both of you. Neither of you speaks another word, but none are needed. In the quiet of the med bay, wrapped up in each other’s arms, you both drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep, safe and content in the knowledge that you’re together.

And this time, there’s no uncertainty, no fear—just the steady, comforting certainty that when you wake, Jake will still be there, just like he promised.

As you drift in and out of sleep, you hear the door creak open, and the soft shuffle of a nurse entering the room. She’s quiet at first, checking Jake’s vitals on the monitor and making a note on her chart. But when she glances over at you, curled up against Jake on the narrow bed, she hesitates.

“Lieutenant,” she says gently, not wanting to startle you. “I’m sorry, but your guest can’t stay in the bed with you. It’s against protocol.”

Jake opens one eye, his expression already shifting to one of mild annoyance. He’s clearly not thrilled about the idea of you leaving his side, and the nurse can sense it. She’s just doing her job, but she doesn’t realize she’s dealing with Jake Seresin.

“I’m fine,” Jake replies, his voice a little gruff from the exhaustion but steady. “She’s not hurting anything by being here.”

The nurse tries again, a bit more firmly this time. “It’s for your safety. We can bring a chair over—”

“I don’t want her in a chair,” Jake cuts her off, his tone growing more insistent. He shifts slightly in the bed, adjusting his arm so it’s holding you a little tighter, making it clear he doesn’t intend to let you go anytime soon. “She’s staying here. With me.”

There’s a brief, tense silence. The nurse looks a bit exasperated but still professional, knowing she has to follow the rules. “Sir, I understand, but—”

Jake sighs, now fully awake, and fixes the nurse with a stare that could stop anyone in their tracks.

“Listen,” he says, using that smooth, authoritative tone that makes it hard for anyone to argue with him. “I’ve just been shot out of the sky, survived an ejection, and had to think about the possibility I’d never see her again. I’m not about to let some rule keep her from staying in this bed with me. So unless you’ve got some life-or-death reason, she’s staying.”

The nurse opens her mouth to respond but then seems to realize there’s no winning this one. She sighs, clearly recognizing the futility in arguing with Jake Seresin when he’s determined about something.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she finally concedes, though it’s clear this isn’t the last of it.

As soon as she leaves, Jake smirks to himself, looking down at you.

“Told you I’ve got your back,” he murmurs, his tone playful, as if the whole exchange was just a minor inconvenience.

But the real showdown comes later in the evening. You’ve been peacefully resting beside him when another nurse—or maybe it’s the same one from before—comes in to remind you that visiting hours are over.

“Ma’am,” she says kindly, but firmly. “It’s past 9 p.m., and you’ll need to leave for the night.”

Jake’s eyes snap open, and he’s immediately back on high alert.

“No, she won’t,” he interjects before you can even respond. He shifts in the bed, the pain in his body seemingly forgotten as he props himself up on one elbow. “She’s staying. I’m not spending the night in here without her.”

The nurse lets out a tired sigh, clearly not up for another round with Jake. “Sir, it's hospital policy. You need to rest for your recovery—”

“Hospital policy,” Jake echoes with a smirk, cutting her off again. “Let me tell you something about that. You know what’s really good for my recovery? Her being here. So if you want me to heal up quick and get out of your hair, you’re gonna let her stay.”

“Sir—”

“I’m not asking,” Jake says flatly, and his tone leaves no room for negotiation. He folds his arms across his chest, wincing slightly as the movement aggravates his injuries, but he doesn’t let it show. “I’m telling you. She’s staying.”

The nurse gives you an apologetic glance, as if seeking backup, but you know there’s no reasoning with him at this point. You’re about to offer to leave to keep the peace, but Jake shoots you a look that says he won’t hear of it.

After another futile attempt to argue, the nurse finally throws up her hands in defeat.

“Fine,” she mutters under her breath, “but if anyone asks, I didn’t see anything.”

As she leaves, Jake grins triumphantly, settling back down with a satisfied sigh. “That’s more like it,” he says, clearly proud of himself.

You shake your head, half-amused, half-exasperated. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Jake chuckles, wincing slightly from the pain but still smiling. “Only when it comes to you, darlin’. I’m not spending another minute without you if I can help it.”

But of course, the night staff makes another attempt to enforce the rules about an hour later. This time, Jake’s too tired to put up much of a fight, but he still manages to give them one last stubborn retort before they give up for good.

“If you want me out of this bed so bad,” he says with a smirk, “maybe just let her stay and I’ll be out of your hair even faster.”

Eventually, the staff realizes there’s no winning this battle. You stay curled up next to him, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath your cheek as the exhaustion from the day finally catches up to both of you. Jake’s arm wraps protectively around you, pulling you closer.

“See?” he whispers, his voice soft in the dim light of the room. “Told you that you weren’t going anywhere.”

You smile against his chest, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. “You really are impossible,” you murmur sleepily.

Jake chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “But you love me for it.”

"Yeah, yeah I do." You mumble as you close your eyes again.

And with that, you both finally drift off to sleep, content in each other’s arms. Nothing else matters but the fact that you’re together, and Jake’s stubborn determination ensures that’s exactly how it’s going to stay.

[seat-safety-switch]

There's a whole lot of towns out there that you'll never visit. Most of them are chock full of people you'll never meet. Tulsa, for example. Never been there, might never go there. And that makes me a little sad.

Sure, I only have enough time on this earth to visit so many towns. And when I'm there, I don't have enough time to interrogate every single one of the locals to see if, say, any of them have a set of Mopar F-body windshield wiper linkages sitting in the back of their garage. They'll just go to waste, damned to irrelevance by my lack of time. That's what the MBAs call a "market inefficiency."

The internet has helped, sure, but you can only demand what other people have supplied. Any quick browse on a model-specific forum is full of lonely folks crying out to the heavens for a specific piece of trim, or an entire automatic transmission, that they will never receive. And it's a lot of work to put that stuff up for sale. Who knows what's actually inside that weird pile of oil-stained gewgaws that Pawpaw left behind before he joined that alien cult and drank all that Flavor-Aid? His surviving next-of-kin sure don't know the difference between a 4.11 and a 3.90 rear end, nor are they willing to teach themselves that information in order to list it on eBay for twenty bucks.

Don't worry, though, I have a solution. That solution is that the Boston Dynamics warehouse is not secured very well. Their robots are powered by a two-stroke lawnmower engine: it's like they wanted me to show up with a turbine-generator-powered plasma cutter and chop right through the rebar holding the walls of their robot storage lockup together. After that, it was a quick couple of dozen trips to the local electronics store to get the right USB-to-serial cable, and I soon had my harem of semi-autonomous Parts-Seeking Drones® roving the backwoods of America.

So, if you see a lanky, creaking doglike shape lurking outside your yard tonight, smelling oddly of pre-mix and human arterial blood, let it in your garage. All it wants to do is scan your spare parts so I can find that goddamn last piece of dash trim for the cruise control lever on my Volare. Don't worry: I won't have the robots kill you if you decide not to sell it to me after all. It would be hypocritical of me to judge another hoarder. We'll have coffee when I come see your town for the first time! We can trade junk and be best friends and call each other on the phone afterward and talk about nitrous oxide. No promises on what the robots will do if they search your entire property and don't find any Plymouth Volare stuff, though. I forgot to program that part before I let them out of radio range.

[selfmutatedmutilation]

I-is this thing on? Let’s hope, so my name is K and I am a drone, and me and my crew are looking for scrap. We were able to track this radio signal and we are about 2 klicks out, if this is a survivor of a bunker or just a survivor in general, we are willing to trade food for scrap, and we can heal any wounds if needed. Please respond or we will continue on. Ok bye. Ok, C! The transmissions out, can you inform N and Uzi, ohh! And can you grab me an apple juice! Oh shoot this things still going… sorry.

(This was fun. It would be fun to continue 😉 have good day/night!)

I'm a survivor. I wander the wastes usually though. I don't have anything to trade. I am stuck in a hole right now. A big cavern left over from when the planet split. It's good to see others out in the wastes.

[onesidedradiostatic]

My assumption on Alastor’s pre death radio fame, was that he may have been very popular locally, but not nationwide or anything. I don’t know the transmission ranges of that time, but it certainly might’ve been dependent on what equipment and infrastructure you could afford. If Alastor was affiliated with a major state or local channel- maybe he had a specific slot on their timetable - then I guess his audience could be quite far spread! But if he was running some kind of independent operation, or even a secret channel, the range may well be smaller. And the u.s is big, Vox could be from anywhere, but maybe he was close enough to pick up Alastor’s show.

(prev)

yeah that's what I thought too, having more of a local community, that's why I don't usually think vox, let alone husk or angel dust, had heard of alastor pre-death. but like I said, that one art from twitter made me so insane I may just be willing to indulge in the idea a LITTLE bit....

[ask-widesmile-theredcaboose]

Okay I copy I read you.

I have you spend three!

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This is an ask and replay blog for the red caboose or better know as CB.

CB the Red Caboose is from ALW's musical Starlight Express.

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Things to know about here:

The railway CB is from is Apollo Victoria railyard/railway. [It's just what I like to thing is the in universe place StEx takes place in. I picked up the idea from the fandom. Ty y'all. 🥰🥰]

CB is pretty chill for the most part unless you get him upset or when he feels like making trouble, and he likes his radio esque tech and such. [I can't help but think CB is just into that kinda stuff cuz he got radio stuff in him anyways. Lol. And I'm sure I'm not the only person who thinks the same. 🥰]

CB uses radio/trucker slang, mostly when he's talking over the radio but will sometimes use it as well face to face too. [I just love the idea of the freak Caboose using it. 🥰💖]

wall to wall and treetops tall = I hear you loud and clear, and that's what I use for answering asks.

breaker breaker = can anyone here me or or hello, it's a way to start a transmission/chat, and that's what I use for reblogging other people's things.

Translation for any radio slang is always in the tags of post. So don't worry to much about having to figure it out on your own. [I wasn't going to do it originally but I thought it would be better to have them. (⁠^▽^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ]

... [I will add more points when I think of them. (⁠^▽^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ]

____________________________________

Mod Talk: Do be warnd I am still knew to StEx.

It should also be known:

I will do my best to be as accurate as I can to the characters, but I will most likely lean a lot towards my own interpretation of the character and this blog may also lean towards my own headcannon of things. So understand this will most likely not be very canon so to speak. Sorry not sorry. :P

I can and will probably throw caution to the wind sometimes for I am an adult, and I'll use swears. So warning on swearing and most likely mean, rude and or crude language.

I will also warn you I am not the best at roleplaying but I will try my best, and if you are looking for multiple paragraph are RPs I am not the person for that kind of thing. But if you are willing to help someone new and or are okay with RPing with someone who is new then thank you for your time.

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CB hanging loose

CB the Red Caboose!

[thatswhywelovegermany]

October 29, 1923: The first radio broadcast in Germany goes on air

Radio had a rough start in Germany. At the end of World War I, where the German army was among the pioneers in radio communication, during the November Revolution, revolutionary workers occupied the headquarters of the German press and news service, falsely claiming the victory of the communist and socialist revolutionary forces. This made the social democratic government to impose harsh restrictions on radio broadcast, which severely hampered the development of the new medium in Germany:

Only the state had the sovereign right of to set up and operate transmitting and receiving systems

Private individuals were prohibited to receive any radio broadcast

Receivers were limited in their technical characteristics, supported by a requirement for state approval for any new model

This led to the state-controlled postal service becoming a monopolist serving a small number of (mostly public) institutions. Nonetheless, the first entertainment broadcast was distributed at Christmas 1920, when postal employees brought instruments to the broadcast center in Königs Wusterhausen (south of Berlin), played music and recited poems.

After heavy lobbying by radio pioneers such as Hans Bredow, complaints and public discontent and increasing numbers of illegal self-made private receivers, which frequently caused interferences, the harsh restrictions were finally lifted in 1923. Each owner of a state-approved receiver had to register as a "radio participant" and pay a license fee. In autumn of 1923, at the height of the inflation, a license cost 780 billion Mark per year, a sum that only very few were able and willing to afford. Thst's why the first broadcast by Funk-Stunde Berlin from a studio in the Vox House on October 29, 1923 has no (paying) listeners. The first registered participant was Berlin tobacco retailer Wilhelm Kollhoff, who received his license and his radio on October 31.

Rapidly, a number of radio stations opened throughout Germany, which were consolidated under the umbrella organization "Reichs-Rundfunk-Gesellschaft".

Infamously, radio became the main propaganda instrument of the Nazis, who quickly forced all radio stations into line, sending the liberal radio pioneers to the first concentration camps. The development and widespread distribution of a cheap radio receiver, the "Volksempfänger" ("people's receiver"), made radio a medium for the masses. Nonetheless, only 46.9 % of the German households had a radio in 1937, compared with the USA or the UK, which had already a density of 78.3 % and 66.1 %, respectively.

After World War II, radio developed differently in East and West Germany. Radio in East Germany remained state-controlled, sending communist propaganda now. In the West, organizations under public law were founded in the federal states, funded by fees of radio users and controlled by bodies in which the relevant societal groups are equally represented. In the 1980s, private radio stations were allowed.

Because Germany received only very few AM frequencies as part of the sactions after World War II, development of FM radio was accelerated, leading to new standards in the quality of transmission and HiFi stereo radio. Radio established itself as a promoter of culture in the area of literature and music. The stations set up symphonic and dance orchestras, big bands, choirs, and elaborate audioplay studios. They were also pioneering promoters of electronic music. In the recent years, however, the importance of radio as promoters of high culture has diminished more and more. With the exceptions of a few stations, radio is regarded as background entertainment for people who cannot stand silence.

In the future, it is expected that the split between music and entertainment, high culture, and information will will deepen. Radio as a promotor of culture will probably not play a role any more. Taking over podcast productions may revive the role of radio as an opinion-forming medium. Radio is still unrivalled as the fastest medium, being able to provide the latest news virtually in real-time.

[apesoformythoughts]

«Question: Why is Carl Sagan so lonely?

(a) Sagan is lonely because, as a true devotee of science, a noble and reliable method of attaining knowledge, he feels increasingly isolated in a world in which, as Bronowski has said, there is a failure of nerve and men seem willing to undertake anything other than the rigors of science and believe anything at all: in Velikovsky, von Daniken, even in Mr. and Mrs. Barney Hill, who reported being captured and taken aboard a spacecraft in Vermont.

(b) Sagan is lonely because, after great expectations, he has not discovered ETIs in the Cosmos, because chimpanzees don't talk, dolphins don't talk, humpback whales sing only to other humpback whales, and he has heard nothing but random noise from the Cosmos, and because Vikings 1 and 2 failed to discover evidence of even the most rudimentary organic life in the soil of Mars.

(c) Sagan is lonely because, once everything in the Cosmos, including man, is reduced to the sphere of immanence, matter in interaction, there is no one left to talk to except other transcending intelligences from other worlds.

Thought Experiment: You are Sagan and you are monitoring the Cornell University radio telescope at Arecibo, Puerto Rico, when, after years of reception of random noise, you receive a signal which can only be interpreted as representing the prime numbers, 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23… Communication is established! The source of the transmission must be Alpha Centauri because of the direction and the transmission time: four years. Years pass. A code is agreed upon. But time is running out. You are growing old. What with the difficulties of encoding and decoding and the period of transmission, there is only time for five simple questions. Which questions would you ask, and how would you answer these five questions from Alpha Centauri?

Are you in continuity with other organisms on P-3, S-G2V (third planet = earth, star G2V = our sun)?

If not, what is nature of discontinuity?

Are you in trouble?

If so, specify.

What information do you need? (E.g., what can we do for you?)»

— Walker Percy: Lost in the Cosmos

[k0za--k]

mini pre qsmp, Fitcentric fic inspired by @rotomo10281 and anon, beware angst :3c

Sudden radio static startles TazerCraft, they hurry to the makeshift radio to tune it onto the right wavelength, to properly hear words they don't quite understand yet.

Their favourite radio host has been silent for almost two weeks now and they were extatic to listen to the broadcast. A mysterious guy from 2b2t, they can remember his name being "Fit" or something like that.

Although they can't fully understand him, both Pac e Mike loved listening to his voice, recalling all the weird and crazy happenings of the anarchy wasteland, as they tinker and work on their things. White noise filling the silence, but also a great help with improving their english! Even with static, man's pronunciation and articulation is very clear. Not to mention the interesting and wacky stories told every time entertaining the two scientists.

But this time, there's something wrong.

The broadcast started, but there's no low voice reciting history, just a sound of laboured breathing and gravel under heavy boots. Unfamiliar shouts in the background.

TazerCraft look at each other, and back to the radio. Did "Fit" start broadcasting by an accident? They can recognise the chain of swears, and then a loud THUD.

There's screaming, taunts and insults. Is he fighting with someone? Pac e Mike were aware that 2b wasn't exactly peaceful, but they weren't expecting to ever hear it first hand.

It sounds bad, REALLY bad, there are multiple voices, sound of metal clashing and totems popping. Another loud thud, the sound of a body hitting the ground. They can finally make out the words.

"Keep him down KEEP HIM DOWN. HOLD HIM" unfamiliar voice shouts.

"LET GO! LET ME GO YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!" that's "Fit", they are sure of it. He's closer to the radio. "Hey- HEY! We can- WE CAN TALK IT OUT- heYHEYHEY! WHAT ARE YOU-" the words are off cut by a scream.

TazerCraft's blood runs cold. It's terrifying, it's loud and guttural. There's laughter in the background, mocking, like hyenas above their pray.

They grow more and more distant, as "Fit"'s screams continue, ocassionally, broken by sobs, hiccups and desperate breaths.

Pac e Mike just stand there, staring at the radio, their tasks long forgotten. It feels like hours have passed, when the screams finally quiet down. They hear gravel rustling, someone shifting positions, they hoped. There are no more cries, just heavy breathing. Sound of potion bottle breaking, then quiet grunts and shuffling of fabric.

Transmission cuts just as abruptly as it started, leaving TazerCraft stunned, frozen in place. What the actual fuck did they just hear. Did "Fit" knowingly started the broadcast? Just to have someone, anyone willing to listen, to know of his fate?

Was it just a missclick? No, surely not. Broadcasting requires preparation, it's not like you just click one button and done unknowingly.

Pac e Mike return to their work, still shaken, still filled with many questions that will stay unanswered until the next broadcast.

That is, IF it comes at all.

[underthesmilesunderthefun]

i say this as nicely as possible and in fear of being yelled at…

starlight express RP accounts PLEASE figure out your own tag and stop using the main one for regular RP stuff. it makes it so difficult to find things. i have no issue with RP whatsoever and i think its a great way to be creative and explore characters. but it is making it difficult to navigate the tags related to stex at all.

[lilyharvord]

Hi! Long time fan here. Since COVID era actually. 😅 I was looking back at your posts and I noticed that Project Nightshade was never published or snippeted.

I wondering if you’re going to publish it or if you’re willing to post what would have happened. No pressure, just wondering. Hope everything is going well. Also wondering how your novel went? Is it available to purchase?

Here's some snippets from Project Nightshade (: There not much but it's honest work. (:

The blood drained for Mare’s face, and for a moment, her legs almost gave out. If she was being called by Evangeline this early in the morning with a summons from the Premier, then it was serious. Serious enough that it could be Lakelands pushing the line like they feared they would do for the past week, or it could be Piedmont had decided they actually did want to question the State’s sovereignty and the States’ alliance with Montfort. Her heart pounded a little faster at the fact that this could be a military summons, and that was far more likely if she and Cal were both being summoned. She would take the Lakelands any day over Piedmont. With the slow teetering of their country into chaos thanks to Farley’s constant pressure with the Guard, they were running deep into their Treasury. They wouldn’t be able to afford a full scale assault like Piedmont that could drag on for another year or two, or three. 

Mare shuddered at the thought. Deep in her mind’s eye, she saw her daughter’s face aging in those years. She could almost feel the sickening sink of her stomach that would cut through her when she returned from that fight and saw her daughter waiting for her patiently on the tarmac, those years haunting her eyes.

If it were that, Evangeline would have lead with it though. Forcing a blanket of calm so she didn’t scare Coriane, Mare pursed her lips at her own quick swing toward fear. 

“Radis is on his way out the door. He is leaving office today, and Carmen is being sworn in this afternoon.” Mare grumbled, finally crouching down to help Coriane balance the glass while she drank. “He doesn’t give me orders anymore.” She strokes her daughters hair for extra measure, watching her throat bob as she drank deeply. It soothed any of few ruffled feathers she still had. She wasn’t going anywhere, Coriane was still young. She wasn’t missing her daughter’s life. It felt like a battle to admit that, almost a half lie. 

You and I are good liars. 

She shuddered at the memory of that voice. It had been a long time since Maven had whispered in her ear, but sometimes, she still heard him, felt his fingers brushing her hair off her cheek or clenching her fingers like she was a life line and could pull him back from the edge. It had been so long since she’d heard his voice though, so long since she had been stressed enough to let his ghost in through the gaps in her armor—

----------

“We are not alone anymore.” He finally said, and the council chamber exploded in surprised and confused murmurs. Mare leaned forward to glance at Evangeline at the tail of Radis words. Her words from earlier floated through the haze: it’s impossible for such a thing. 

Julian stood, his skin pale as he flushed with either anger at being excluded from this development or some other emotion. “We have no evidence that there is anyone beyond our continent that survived the devastation. As far as we are concerned the sea swallowed whatever might be left.” 

Radis dipped his head in understanding, his eyes flashing in the light as he replied. “We were wrong. A radio transmission was intercepted this morning proving everything we once knew false.” 

In the resulting silence, Mare heard the faint rumble of far off thunder. A storm was about to hit Ascendant. She could feel the lightning taking shape in those clouds, felt the change in the air the same way she did when she climbed up Storm Peak for training. It was still miles away, but she clenched her hands into fists to avoid the sparks that wanted to take shape between her fingers. Cal’s hands tightened on her shoulders in response, and she knew the hairs on his arms were standing on end as she channeled that energy through her like a glorified lightning rod. 

Radis turned and nodded to a young man no one had noticed lurking in the shadows of the doorway. All eyes turned to him, and he straightened to his full, dimunitive height before stepping forward with a box. A recording device, Mare realized, her lips drawing into a tight frown. 

Holding it out to Radis, he dipped his head as the Premier pressed one thin, pale finger on the playback button. Static punched through the silence of the chamber, only to be followed by a faint buzzing and then a two tone beep. 

Cal leaned forward to hear better and the wave of heat he released washed over Mare like a hot breeze, and stirred Coriane awake. She blinked open sleepy eyes, and glanced around in confusion at her surroundings as the recording played and changed everything. 

----------

Her heart pounded in her ears but she forced her voice to remain even as she said, “And what does that mean for you?” 

“The message asked for a Calore king. I’m not a king.” Cal shrugs, but his eyes were burning and Mare knew now what that meant. 

“He wants you to go.” 

“To keep things cordial.” The words were carefully chosen, and probably not what he actually wanted to say, or what Quinn had said. “He doesn’t want to piss off a country that we know nothing about by sending a delegate that they didn’t ask for.” 

“That’s not right.” Mare insisted as she pulled away from his grip, her annoyance manifesting in the bulb above their heads whining. Cal didn’t even react to it, years with her teaching him the nuances of her ability now and that if she wanted to shatter the bulb, she would. 

He sank back to sit on the cycle, his hands falling between his knees while he turned his attention to the rain outside. “What do you want me to do? Ignore a direct order?”

“Was it a direct order?” Mare grumbled as she craned her neck and tried to find Coriane. Her daughter had been strangely quiet for too long. She couldn’t see her, and that worried her until she saw a faint flash of amber eyes in the darkness. Expelling a sigh through her nose, Mare called to the shadows, “Don’t eavesdrop Coriane.” 

Her daughter’s mass of curls proceeded her as she sheepishly poked her head out from behind the shelves. “Are you going to fight?” 

“No love, we’re not.” Cal said with a faint smile as he held his hand out in a quiet invitation of her to stop lurking in the shadows. She scurried to him with a clean rag, and he took in gratefully before saying, “We were having a conversation.” 

Coriane’s eyes sought Mare for confirmation, and she got it in the form of a terse nod. “We were talking. If mommy and daddy were fighting you would know.” She smiled faintly at the implication of her comment and crouched down to move Coriane’s wet hair out of her eyes. Cal’s hand found Mare’s shoulder and squeezed gently to get her attention.

She glanced up at him, and then followed his eyes to a figure that moved beyond the window. Mare yanked Coriane into her arms and stood so quickly, she staggered for a second. There was another door out of the garage, a failsafe Cal had built just in case. Neither of them liked to be in a place with only one entrance and exit anymore. 

The door into the garage opened slowly though, and a young solider stepped through. His eyes found them in the corner and he clicked his heels together before saluting smartly. “General Calore, Captain Barrow.” 

Cal rose slowly, wiping his hands with a frown while Mare set Coriane back on her feet. The girl clung to Mare’s leg in response and eyed the man warily like her parents. The soldiers nodded and moved aside as Radis stepped through the doorway, brushing water off his dark coat. He glanced around the space before raising a brow at the organized chaos on the shelves and the little table at the side.

“Apologizes, but I called ahead and no one answered.” 

Mare’s lips drew into a deep frown. If he’d done that, it had been while he was probably sitting outside their house, because the phone had not rung that morning. 

“What do you want Radis?” Cal’s voice was dangerous, a warning in and of itself as he edges around Mare and Coraine to set the rag down on the table. He slid something off the table then, and Mare realized belatedly that he had taken his bracelets off and left them there. 

The older man smirked at the atmosphere in the room, comfortable even in the presence of two people who very easily could remove him if they felt threatened. Tilting his head to the side, he said, “Premier Radis, General. I hold the title for another hour.” 

“That’s a second politically and you know it.” Mare replied coolly, setting a hand on Coriane’s head as she eyed the two soldiers standing outside the door with their rifles strapped across their shoulders and in their hands. They were the new models, the ones that Kilorn told her had a faster clip. As if we have any reason to make the bullets move out of that monstrosity faster, her friend had spit to remove the taste of those words before draining the last of his beer. She had agreed with him. “Did you need a small army to come talk to us?” 

“That answer depends on how you react to what I propose.” Radis stepped into the space before glancing down at Coriane as if he just noticed her. She edged further behind Mare, and glanced up at her with a creased brow that Mare smoother out with her thumb gently.

[breakerwhiskey]

208 - TWO HUNDRED EIGHT

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

So…I found him! I fucking found him. I don’t even—

[click, static]

The whistling. I thought I was losing my mind at first. It was so weak, and kept going out before I could catch all of it but I knew—

I mean, that’s our whistle. Our lookout whistle. Who else could it be but Don? And after all this time and so many attempts to find Birdie or…or anyone, driving around until the signal got stronger actually fucking worked.

I— what?

[click, static]

(calling out off mic) —because I have to! Just—hold on a sec, okay?

Sorry, he— Don doesn’t get why I’m telling the radio this news when there’s a guy out there trying to kill me but I want Harry to know and I—

I want you to know.

I don’t—I’m not sure who you are in this scenario. Maybe Birdie, my first friend in this world, even if I’m not sure they are a friend. Maybe…

Look, the fact that my transmissions got all the way to Harry when I was in fucking Los Angeles…maybe…maybe other people are out there, hearing me. If there’s even the slightest chance—

[click, static]

—(off mic) you could just tell them yourself. (to the mic) Alright. (off mic) Yeah, that’s fine, just let me finish—

[click, static]

Donnie refuses to come onto the radio. Apparently whistling is as much as he’s willing to reveal about what he sounds like. So those “morse code freaks” don’t have more intel on him.

He’s also requested that I stop talking about him and his family on here. Which I will do. But I’m still…well, I think you deserve to know, dear listener, what it’s like to finally be with someone after all this time.

God, I still can’t believe it. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. It’s like every holiday ever all at once. Like I’ve been walking through the desert for years and finally, finally stumbled on an oasis.

[click, static]

Don’s laughing at being called an oasis. (off mic) Yeah, I would never have guessed it either!

(to mic) Sorry, things are a little chaotic, clearly. I—well, I’m going to go have a goddamn conversation with a goddamn human being, in person and everything.

So…signing off.

[click, static]

[meldaciomartyr]

She hadn't left Meldacio since the Sun had failed t'rise. Long conversations with Cid, Baldur, Camelia, Weskham and Cor whiled the time away with trying to prioritise resources an' outpost. But then she'd heard that radio transmission from Galdin and seen Hunters scramblin for trucks and her whole world had just about come down around her ears.

Draping her shawl over Kimi's shoulders, Ezma knew better than to chastise the girl for not heedin the medics advise - there was too much of her in her and that was showing only too well these last few weeks.

She sat by his bed for hours, only leaving when Cid had stuck his head around the door, however he'd managed to wrangle a space on a truck to Formouth, but even that was fleeting. She held on to her boy's hand just like he was that adventurous little rascal all over again, brushing his cheek an fixing his hair until he'd finally stirred and it was all the old woman could do not to burst into tears.

"Y'sure did give your ol mama a good fright this time round, David."

He hadn't a notion where he'd been when he first came through; some surprised Gralean nurse checkin' the machines he was hooked up to right beside him. She'd done looked as surprised as he was confused.

But then the pain had quickly found him an' Dave had spent the first couple o' days in an' outta consciousness with no real traction on what had happened or what was goin' on. Painkillers an' other drugs allowed his fleetin' waking moments an' dreams to bleed together with no lineation 'tween what was real an' what he was imaginin'. Kaleb had been there at some point, but in Dave's mind they'd been out in that dust-storm in Keycatrich again, seein' one coeurl an' not being able t'turn in time t'warn his pal o' the other big cat stalkin' him. Over an' over again.

Then there'd been Kimi an' her crackin' voice that sounded so much like her mama's. He'd cracked his eyes open at one stage only t'see Leanne sittin' where Kim had been, lookin' at him with that look only she could muster; somewhere between sadness and I-told-ya-so. He'd seen it so many time 'fore when he'd been hurt on a hunt or gone too long. "Guess this one took betin' huh darlin'?"

But he blinked outta sleep an' Leanne was gone again. In her place was an' old memory gettin' his ass handed to him in the Vesperpool. One o' his very first hunts as a young teenager an' he hadn't been watchin' closely enough. Not for his mama pushin' him outta the way, he would'a been lunch for a sahagin. Instead she'd ended up with a bite t'her arm an' laid up for weeks. He'd sat beside her bed as a scared teenger, waitin' for her to come 'round.

'Y'sure did give your ol mama a good fright this time round, David.'

Ezma's voice floated back from that teenage memory, echoin' until he realised that it wasn't jus' a memory. Willing himself to open his eyes, Dave managed it jus' barely, tiltin' his head to see his mother's figure sittin' on a chair, her thin fingers intertwined in his an' her expression the most unguarded he's every seen.

"M'sorry mama ... ain't never meant t'do that to ya." Now he could see how it came full circle; his mam had pulled him outta danger's way a lifetime ago in the Vesperpool cos she was a parent. He'd done the same for Kimi; gettin' her outta danger, even it'd meant his harm. "- I jus' couldn't let her get hurt."

[sapphire-weapon]

In your opinion, is the laugh from Leon at the end of the Ada and Leon encounter in the castle one of amusement, or more like frustration? People seem to interpret it as him being charmed by her which has lead to some butting of heads. I'm not really sure how to take it myself, but I feel like there's some lingering attachment there mixed with a lot of frustration... y'know, with her whole elusive, never explaining herself thing. Gets a little old for him, maybe.

I know you personally interpret Leon as being done with her shit, but I still wanted to know what you thought!

I think that "charmed" is a good word, but I don't think that people are using it the way that it should be used in that context. Leon isn't "charmed" by her in the sense that he just fell in love with her all over again; Leon is "charmed" by her in the sense that he found that particular interaction endearing.

I've seen people make the argument that Leon didn't actually know that Ada was alive until that very moment of reuniting in the castle, and he's just become so incredibly good at masking his emotions that it catches her off guard -- but I don't agree with that interpretation. For him to be so shocked at Krauser's introduction kind of disproves that theory, because -- remember, Krauser didn't even fake his death in this version of the story. And Leon is still so surprised to see him.

The way I interpreted their reunion was that Leon has seen unconfirmed reports of someone matching Ada's description running around doing shady shit in bioterror situations -- maybe even on missions he's personally run (RE4 was OG Leon's first federal mission but not Remake Leon's first federal mission; he's been doing this shit for a while already) -- so he's already been through the "what the... Ada???? I thought that bitch was fuckin dead!" (kudos to whoever gets that reference) song and dance in his head. But there was no hard and fast evidence that it actually was her -- until she finally tries to hold him up in the castle, and it all clicks into place as "confirmed" for him.

So, I think the smirk/pseudo-laugh following their reunion is born from a few different places:

Leon is genuinely happy to learn that she is, in fact, still alive. Being able to see her and confirm it with his own eyes was probably such a relief for him.

He's probably feeling at least a little bit smug that he was right about the aforementioned reports. So, not only was it relieving to know she's okay, it feels good to find that he was right.

She's not even trying to put up a front for him this time; he actually got to see and talk to the real Ada for perhaps the very first time ever (at least, in his mind; we as the audience know that Ada was being genuine with him at several different points in RE2, but Leon has no way of knowing that, himself). It's probably endearing for him to actually see her as her true self for a change.

The way that she exits the conversation (through the window after a tongue-in-cheek offering of sex??? LMAO) is so extra and over the top and so very Ada. It was very likely a very endearing "some things never change" moment for him.

I genuinely believe that their reunion was a feel-good moment for Leon for all four of those reasons -- and all of that can be true with it also being true that he's not willing to put up with her bullshit anymore.

The two of them don't speak again until the radio transmission where Ada tells Leon that she saw Verdugo carrying Ashley to the throne room. A lot happens between those two points (including "the fall [in love]" moment between him and Ashley, which, when juxtaposed beside the way that he fell for Ada, is striking in its contrast) and a lot of time passes in which Leon can let the enormity of his actual emotions re: seeing Ada again sink in -- and it also happens right after Ashley is taken from him, so that's why he snaps off with "I guess you're not completely heartless" in that conversation. (He's also probably still butthurt about the "leave the girl" remark, too, which only makes his reaction more volatile.)

And that kind of sets the tone for their interactions/relationship for the entire rest of the game. Leon cares about Ada (because lbr he cares about everyone), he's happy and relieved that she's alive and okay, and he's glad to see her again if only just for closure's sake -- but he's done with her shit, otherwise. He has nothing to prove to her anymore, he doesn't need validation from her anymore, whatever romantic attachments he had to her in RE2 are long-since dead, and he refuses to make the same mistakes twice.

All of these things can be true at the same time. And, in RE4make, they are.

[sourpatchys]

My honest thoughts on Daryl Dixon 1x5.

!Spoiler warning for those who haven’t seen it!

Honestly? I’m screaming and crying and throwing up.

Personally, I don’t ship Caryl, but oh boy, was I excited about that radio transmission.

(I don’t hate Caryl I just really enjoy healthy platonic relationships in media, pls don’t hate me)

I’m like 99.99% sure Carol said that Rick was back and OHHH BOYYYY am I even MORE excited for The Ones Who Live— it’s honestly the perfect set up for the two series to connect. I will fight someone on this.

I feel so bad for Laurent :(

All my homies love Laurent >:[

The fact that he was lied too for so long really shines though in this episode.

And I don’t mean that in a bad way— he’s literally just a kid, all he wants is a family like it used to be.

And now? He’s on a quest with the first male role model he’s ever had that he honestly looks up to, not because he was told too, but because he wants too, knowing he’s going to be left with strangers.

Hearing him ask why he couldn’t just leave with Daryl honestly broke my heart.

And ISABELL!!!!

Girl was just going to kill herself?? Just like that??

I need to know what that note said, I will literally start eating dry wall if I don’t find out in the next episode.

Don’t even get me started on Daryl’s outburst.

I don’t think we’ve seen him like that throughout any of the main series. At least not towards a child.

I stg I thought he was going to start crying when Laurent said he just didn’t want to be alone.

I know I did. I sobbed so hard, I had to PAUSE and gather myself after that one.

This is— truly a side of Daryl we’ve never seen before. His past is coming up but by bit, he’s going in between who he’s become and who he started as.

And he was willing to lose his eye?? Are you being fr right now?

I’m absolutely losing it.

This is still fresh because I literally JUST watched it, but as for Cons, I don’t think I have any?

Obviously, he’s a little more clumsy in this series than what’s to be expected given his history.

This episode really just gave me everything I’ve been wanting in terms of storyline.

We learned about the ship, about what Daryl did, why they’re after him.

We got to see, up close, how the walkers are being mutated. It’s a man made mutation, which is so fucking interesting— you cannot convince me that it isn’t.

We finally got to see the speech

Isabell, Laurent and Daryl are all in the same place again. Granted, they’re surrounded by people who hate them but that’s beside the point.

Using people as walker food?? On such a large scale?

I have so much more to say but this is already so long.

Please leave your thoughts, I would love to hear how everyone else feels, even the negatives!

In any case, my feelings on this episode can be described as shown below.