trashburgersblair

[trashburgersblair]

buy that transgender woman a large cut of high quality fresh farm-grown salmon from the store

[trashburgersblair]

[trashburgersblair]

Steam powered giraffe will be like "Am I allowed to have feelings? Does my status as something different than you revoke my personhood?" And obviously I feel completely normal about that and only think abiut it occasionally

[trashburgersblair]

today's gender has been asked this every time jonny eats someone, and the answer is it still doesn't give a fuck

^

[trashburgersblair]

[trashburgersblair]

"Are you ok?" I'm actually tired bro. From the bottom of my heart I'm tired

[trashburgersblair]

top 3 places to bleed out:

1. the snow

2. your lover/best friend/homoerotic comrade’s arms

3. bathroom floor

[trashburgersblair]

Today I met happiness

[trashburgersblair]

i mean. the horrors are still there but at least there's always a damn good song to go with them.

[trashburgersblair]

Closing Time at the Singing Mandrake

Summary: A quick scene based in Stupendium's Fallen London musical, Neath! Because the implied character dynamics make me ill

Warnings: none

                                          ---

"Last orders! Last orders, your horrible lot! I need my beauty sleep!"

The familiar call heralded the end of another night at the Singing Mandrake. Slowly the crowd dissipated, carrying drunken songs into the streets of London.

Cassie stood at the bar bidding farewell to the regulars, even shooting a knowing wink at the good Mr. Brimstone. He didn't respond, of course, he simply tucked his notebook into his coat pocket and strode out of the bar with practiced nonchalance. His cheeks were red, a shade befitting a devil like him.

She chuckled to herself and went back to work collecting the half-full bottles of liquor left behind on the bar. She swept them into an old milk crate and carried it towards the kitchen. She'd refill them with the pitcher of river water she collected earlier - it was nasty work, but it saved them from spending precious pence on the overpriced stuff from the Bazaar. Besides, it's not like anyone noticed the difference.

"-'S closing time already?" came a mumble from the back of the bar.

Cassie stopped suddenly. The bottles clinked together in the crate.

They turned and saw Robert Rackett lying face-down on a table, a metal cup clenched in his hand. It wasn't strange to find him like this, although he was usually slumped on the stairs or in the hall outside his rented room. It was a startling sight to the guests she often brought up to her own rooms, but she was fond enough of the thief to shrug it off. She found very few things startled her these days - and she liked it that way.

She gave him a sly smile. "What are you still doing down here, you old crook?"

He reached up and idly scratched his overgrown beard. "-'m not a crook," he said, unable to keep his words from slurring. "Tha-'s why they call me Honest Bob."

She laughed, placing a free hand on her hip. "If you're honest, then I'm the empress." She put her crate down on the table, gently pulled the cup from his hand, and dropped it in. She patted his back. "Go upstairs. You'll hurt your neck sleepin' down here."

"Oh alright, alright." He stood up, only making it a couple steps before stumbling into the next table.

She winced at the clatter, concerned he may have hurt himself - or worse, scraped up the floorboards. She watched him struggle for a moment longer before taking matters into her own hands. She snaked an arm under his. "Come on, then," she groaned as she lifted him from the table.

He leaned heavily on Cassie as she led him out of the bar and upstairs. When they got to his door, she reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out her ring of keys. It was a hassle to find Bob's in the jumble of spare keys one-handed, but eventually she managed it, and dragged him inside.

It was a small room, not much in it but a fireplace and some old furniture from before the Fall. A bed was shoved into one corner, next to a trunk full of Bob's belongings - whoever's belongings they were before Bob got his fingers on them, Cassie would never know.

"Here we are." She lead him over to the bed and sat him down.

He collapsed sideways onto the bed, the metal frame squealing in protest. "You're too good to me, Cassie," he said, half muffled by his pillow.

"Yes, I am," she huffed, yanking off his boots and tossing them to the floor. She wasn't about to let him sleep in his shoes. "Alright. See you tomorrow, Bob." She turned to dart out of the room.

"Wait." He sat up and gently, if not clumsily, took their hand. "Cassie, will you marry me?"

She stopped and stared at her hand in his. A soft frown tugged at her lips.

Then she smiled, rolled her eyes, and clicked her tongue. "Oh, you old romantic. That's the third time you've asked me that." There was nothing but fondness in their voice. She patted his hand. "My answer's still no."

He muttered something unintelligible and fell back against his pillow. His eyes fluttered closed.

She gave him a warm smile. She leaned down, sweeping back his hat and unkempt hair to press a kiss to his forehead. "Goodnight, Bob."

She heard him barely manage a "G'night, Cassie." before he began snoring.

[trashburgersblair]

Neath costumes and sets appreciation. I can't even imagine how much energy it took to film this all... (nightly Neath!)

[trashburgersblair]

No One's Home by The Stupendium is a manifestation of The Eye

no one’s home by the stupendium is a manifestation of the eye!

[trashburgersblair]

"Open the Sky" by The Stupendium is a manifestation of the Extinction

open the sky by the stupendium is a manifestation of the extinction!

[trashburgersblair]

[trashburgersblair]

My favourite thing about the D&D movie is it never stops trying to be a D&D movie even down to the most minute, unsung details. There's initiative order gags (I'll go last!) there's rolling a 1 gags (setting off the trap on the bridge by inexplicably just walking up to it) there's stat gags (nobody had high enough Intelligence to be in danger from the Intellect Devourers). Almost every spell is identifiable, from Xenk using smite to Sofina whipping out Finger of Death. Simon's character arc is about his self-confidence being tied to his mastery of magic because Charisma is the spellcasting stat for sorcerers. The era of movies based on games being afraid of their source material is over.

[trashburgersblair]

shitpost i find, shitpost i have to make about the mechanisms

[trashburgersblair]

squeaky squeaky