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docjayfeather · 8 months ago

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All of the Ren Lore i’ve compiled from his single player series and old streams

Favorite meal is roast lamb and roast potatoes

Has an ex-girlfriend

Hates One Direction

Was on a boating team in high school

His mother’s first cat’s name was Ebony

His single player world started in 1.2

Ren’s favorite language is Spanish

Ren has been to Spain several times

His brother had a dog named Rorschach

Ren’s favorite armor set in the original Diablo was the Moon set

Ren and his brother used to have to shower/bath together, then dry off infront of an electric fireplace. Through a series of events, young Ren got his butt stuck to the glass pane of the electric fireplace, and has had a scar on his butt since.

Ren has said “I always think about [Ren’s brother’s username] when I think about my butt”

Ren knows how to do a cats cradle

Ren used to have frosted tips

Ren’s favorite commander deck is Kraum/Tymna

Ren got kicked in the literal butthole by a horse

Ren likes burning things

Ren created a rigged marble slot machine in high school

Went on an introspection journey, visiting all the places he lived and all his jobs pre-YouTube

Did the insane thing of asking the lady who was now living in his first house if he could go inside and check out his old room

Ren had a patreon tier where he’d sent his patrons a “Ren Crate”, a lootcrate full of stuff

Ren doesn’t drink (anymore)

Officially has OCD

Ren loves apple juice

Ren loves driving games

Event manager for The Deftones once

Plays MtG on Sundays

Ren wants to retire with Doc

Ren’s wants his spirit animal to be a shark

Ren’s favorite book series is LotR

Ren is “below-average hairy”

Ren’s favorite season is Autumn

Ren’s birthday is October 11th

Ren is a slut for tiramisu and ice cream

Ren wants to open an LGS/tabletop cafe

Ren is not a religious person

Ren worked in a seedy pool bar

Ren almost got an upper back tattoo

Ren loves green tea

Ren is Left Handed

Ren was at one point a vegetarian for several years

Ren has lost his wallet multiple times, once leaving it on a train

Ren eats a whole lemon every day, and drinks lemon juice straight from the lemon

Ren got in trouble at boarding school for “trying to summon demons”. He was just playing MtG.

Ren has had a pair of lucky underwear since he was 18

Ren’s favorite ice cream is strawberry

Ren loved getting aggressively physical in rugby

Ren loves cinnamon buns

Ren used to have super long butt-length hair

Ren really liked playing with fireworks when he was younger. They’d bury huge ones in the sand near their house to make craters.

Ren loves Love Island

Ren can only sleep on his arm

Wears exclusively Star Wars socks and has matching pajamas

Beat Gabriel Nasif in a Magic Grand Prix

Ren hates Oysters

Ren’s favorite dog breed is a chihuahua??

Ren’s favorite dnd class is bard

Ren enjoys cleaning the bathroom the most out of any room

Ren’s favorite musical is Les Miserables

Ren has a favorite kitchen knife, and used to cook a lot.

Ren’s favorite tool is the hoe (of course)

Ren and Iskall used to play League

Never farts irl

born in the same city as J R R Tolkien

Ren named his first car Maximus

Ren is a bath person

Natural Mace Race runner

Ren really likes pet rats

Ren has a very consistent shopping day of tuesday

Ren has an extremely strict sleep schedule

Ren has 7 pairs of the same pajamas to wear 24/7

Ren has a BA in English

Ren does 100 push-ups a day

Ren does a 15k bike ride every day

Ren had a max weight of 110 kilos, is now down to 80

Ren uses youtube in light mode

Ren has seen Metallica live

Ren wore fake glasses in college

Ren has 20/20 vision

Ren has been in plays during school, and blinded the lead with glitter accidentally during one of them, trying to spice up his one line.

Ren has a “black book” of atleast 9 board game ideas

Ren gets pretty motion sick

Ren enjoys mosh pits

Ren really likes competitive monopoly and risk

Ren burned his eyebrows off with a bunson burner once

Ren still cries at The Lion King

Ren plays Ornn, Urgot, and Tristana in League

Ren was allegedly born in 1982

Ren drunk-puked into his shirt in a german taxi the night he met Doc infront of the people sponsoring them

Ren drives stick shift and loves it

Ren thinks he might have a gluten allergy

Ren puts butter in his coffee

Ren tried to write a YA fantasy novel, got 80k words in before scrapping it

Ren would like to live with Keralis hypothetically out of any of the hermits

Ren’s favorite superhero is wolverine

Ren has tinnitus

Ren convinced Cleo to start streaming, partially leading to her going full time

Ren once barbecued on radio in the studio

Ren stayed on his ex-girlfriend’s floor for the first six months of him moving to england

Ren got kicked in the balls trying to sell tickets to musicals in Leicester Square

Ren loves playing golf and tennis

Ren hates soccer

Ren loves queues, maybe ironically maybe unironically

Ren drinks four cups of tea a day

Ren’s favorite season is 3rd life

#rendog #head empty only rendog #that’s the only tags i’m doing #no one needs to know i’m recording this #no one official anyway #I’m loving reading your tags #hermitcraft

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l0s3rd0wnt0wn · 9 days ago

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HIIII OMG I LOVE YOUR YAN BATFAM X BLACK READER STORYS SOOOO I HAVE A LIL REQUEST I WAS WONDERING IF YOU CAN DO A CELESTIA LUDENBERG ONE WITH THE YAN BATFAM PLEASE (make sure your taking good care of yourself😋)

THE ACE UP MY SELVES

Platonic yandere!batfam x Celestia Ludenberg!Reader

Bio: The gambling bat who spends her time in Gotham's underworld, even though she is the richest girl in the world.

You've always been a gambler. Ever since you were in kindergarten, you gambled kids out of their fruit snacks, Pokémon cards, and maybe little toys and trinkets. It was just a simple game of tic-tac-toe or rock-paper-scissors that you beat them at. You always managed to win and would tell them they could try again next time, make the bets higher, and make the beatings better, but they always managed to lose. You're not cheating, of course; just a better hand. But you're older now, playing for Gotham's underworld at the Iceberg Lounge, destroying mob bosses in games of poker, taking all the chips you can get. They would shoot you down—better not to hurt Gotham, sweetheart. The innocent and most delicate [Name] Wayne, they wouldn't dare pull the trigger because they've already wasted their life savings on this one bet, or they're going to waste their lives in prison. You think not to give a cute little smile as you take the wad of cash away, the money in your hands in your mind, a game won easily. The slot machines hate to see you coming because you manage to get a seven out of seven. It's a lucky number, right? Gotham's crooks and goons every Saturday night see if they can have a chance to beat you, but they never get the heads up because the higher the stakes, the more fun it is, and the more they lose, and the more money you win. I mean, why would a single father go gambling? You should get a nine-to-five. You gamble against a fifteen-year-old, always spoiling your friends with your betting wins, and you always have cash on you because gambling games are what everyone brings. One time, your five-dollar bill had some blood on it. The cashier, just a poor little idiot, believed you. The next game you were playing with Jack always made you giggle, having a royal flush without any trouble. You grabbed all the chips off the deck when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Oh no, you didn't know the bats were going to be patrolling today, and you didn't know your brothers were on shift at Gotham's loveliest casino. "So is this what girls' night out means?" Dick said. You could feel his face scrunch up under his domino mask. Jason had his pistols against the goon's forehead, cold and ready to burn, Tim is asking questions while Damian was trying to take the winnings out of your hands. "I just wanted to have some fun." You put on the biggest baby face, trying to act all innocent, when really you just stole somebody's inheritance. It was their fault for gambling in the first place. They dragged you out of the casino, and Bruce, while in his bat costume, had a stern talking to with you. Someone managed to take a video, and now it's on the news: "Gotham's greatest gambler [Name] Wayne was caught on another one of her escapades. She's now being apprehended by none other than Batman, who seems to have a fatherly affection for this young girl." How have they not figured out the truth yet? Forget it. You're no longer allowed to go anywhere at night—no more underground casinos or Iceberg Lounge. You have to play Saturday night games with your family. Monopoly isn't as fun when there isn't real money around, but you do have a time stealing your brother's railroads. "It's just a game, boys. You're lucky I didn't steal your inheritance." This was a real match for money, so here you are, flaunting the fake dollars you'll get back on your grind, though. The higher the stakes, the more fun.

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syoddeye · 5 months ago

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the warren, ten - curious

price x f!reader | 3k words | series page | ao3 tags: mine/underground, gaslighting, minor injury, dual pov a/n: john takes you on a trip.🔪

"There she is. Mind locking it behind you, darl? We're closing early."

John doesn't look up from the register drawer. The bills of cash look like monopoly money in his hands. He licks the tip of his thumb and sorts through the stack, the creases in his brow cutting deep. When he's done, he tucks the tender into a scuffed leather envelope.

Embarrassment warms your face as you realize you've never handled this part of the job before. Not even when you've closed alongside him. He must always take care of it, or leave it undone until later. It stings a little. Peels up a sticking corner of your faith. He must not trust you to manage the till. You bite back a comment, shelving it for later. You have enough on your mind, thoughts teetering precariously like a cup filled to the brim, held in only by surface tension.

"Heard you went on an adventure today."

"I did."

"Gotta tell you, love, hate that you didn't ask for a ride," He sets the envelope down and slots the register back into place. He fixes you with a heavy stare, chin tucking toward his chest. "And that you went on foot."

"It's not that far. I've walked further, in the desert." You smile, trying to ease his mood, and remind him you aren't as helpless as he may believe.

But it doesn't work. If anything, your nonchalance hardens him further.

"Yeah? Are there bears in the desert? Cougars?"

It's strange. No, not strange. This is not out of character. John's been like this since you met. Set in his ways, immovable in his convictions, the master of his domain. However he thinks things should go, how the world should spin, it's only a hair beneath the natural laws themselves. Still, you thought you moved beyond that with him and fell outside his mantle of authority. The slight condescension in his tone and body language? It needles you. Your hackles rise. It makes you think of your dad. Of Dusty.

"There are cougars, actually. Coyotes, too. Snakes, bighorns…" You fold your arms. "Even met a surly jackrabbit, once."

John stares hard, thumb picking at a sliver of laminate peeling loose. The silence stretches, taut as a bowstring. When he finally speaks, his face softens, tired lines overtaking the sharp ones. Worry seeps through the cracks like water through stone. "That so? Well. If you've taken on the desert before…"

He pushes off the counter then steps around and into the gap. The offer is clear, and you meet him halfway, pressing a kiss to his lips. It's a quiet thing, your apology tucked between tongues. When you part, you rest your head on his chest. His hand glides up your spine.

"Sorry to make you worry."

"S'alright. Stopped worrying when Soap texted that he ran into you outside the library. Bookworm couldn't wait for her next read, eh?"

That sneak. Soap must've texted when you were distracted on the drive.

Your eyes fall to the tortoiseshell button on John's shirt, rising and falling with his breathing. A loose thread sticks out from it. You relate to it.

"Yes and no," you say, lifting your head. "I woke up curious." You lick your lips, thinking about what you'd told Soap in the truck. How he reacted when you said you might get to know everyone better, should you winter in the Panhandle. "If I'm going to stay here, I want to learn more about the area."

"S'pose the library's the place to learn. Though, you could've asked me, too."

All roads lead back to John, and you'd taken the turn willingly the moment you got on your knees for him. The moment you fell into his bed.

"You were busy."

"You couldn't wait?" He echoes and it purses your lip.

Your hackles stir again. Your fraying nerves are to blame, not him. You'll feel better once you let it out.

"Are you busy now?"

"Need to make some deliveries. Ride with me."

Another truck, another conversation about madness. You help load the bed with odds and ends. John's occupation as shop owner and local Renaissance man keeps him busy. He points out a lamp he rewired. Hand tools he sharpened. A bicycle, sporting a new chain and front tire.

The comfortable rhythm between you returns, but you feel his thumb at the edges of you. Prying like he did with that bit of laminate on the counter, trying to ease you open. He wants to know what compelled you to walk the miles to Ponderosa, to sit in the library all day.

He knows you well enough to give you space, to make you feel safe before asking. That's one of the reasons you think you might love him.

John drives, you talk. You tell him everything, skipping over Phil's ominous text and the hold waiting under your name. The hold becomes a random book plucked off a library shelf and how its defacement spurred a morbid fascination with the collapse that swallowed nearly a hundred men.

The lie slips out smoother than you'd like. You hate that it's easier now, that you can meet his eyes as you reshape the truth. He doesn't twitch or look over suspiciously. He just listens. It makes it easier to tell yourself that omission and white lies—they're not deceit, not really.

But when you get to the part about your discovery, you waver. You stumble over your words, starting and stopping like burrs catching and pulling at the fabric of your story.

John glances at you then, quick but pointed. You tugged a thread and he felt the give.

Your explanation is shoddier the second time around.

"...and he looked exactly like Alex. I swear."

John doesn't respond immediately. He pulls the truck off to the side of the road, stopping in front of a mailbox at the end of a long drive. Without a word, he turns the engine off, climbs out, and heads to the back.

You hear the faint click of the bicycle wheel as it spins, the dull thunk as he pulls it free. Watching through the side mirror, you see him push it to the mailbox and prop it there. He stands beside it for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck, shoulders slumped.

When he turns back and catches you staring, he gives you a small, uncertain smile, sheepish and laced with pity. You drop your gaze to your shoes.

He thinks you're crazy, too. Perfect.

You're a quarter mile down the road when he finally speaks.

"That's quite the claim."

"I know. I know how it sounds. But John, if you saw him, you'd think the same thing. It's uncanny." You sigh. Every word is a shovelful of dirt. "Soap suggested it was his grandfather or something. Do you know if Alex has roots here?"

"Well, we all have roots here," He smiles a little and reaches over, brushing a hand over your knee. "But if I remember correctly, I believe his family's been here a couple decades."

You nod. That is a comfort. It should be a comfort. It's not that you don't believe John. It's more so you want proof and know you're not sure you want to ask the man in question. Did your grandfather nearly die in a mine collapse?

Frustrated, you lay a hand over John's, tracing the cracks in his knuckles.

"That disappoint you?"

You shrug. "I guess I wanted a mystery."

He chuckles. "Like one of your books, no doubt."

"I suppose so." Though the unease lingers, stitched tight to your stomach lining and unwilling to unwind, you manage to smile. "I heard there's a memorial."

"There is. It's not for—"

"Tourists. Yeah, I know." His lip twitches, and you rush an apology into the gap. "Sorry for interrupting. It's just—who knows. I might not be a tourist in a few weeks. I want to know this place and the people."

That lands differently and with intent. It instantly smooths over your poor manners. His fingers stretch, drumming thoughtfully on the inside of your knee.

"We can visit, if you'd like. You'll see why they don't put in the brochures."

Your eyes widen, surprised he's indulging your curiosity.

"I'd love to. When should we go?"

The truck jerks as he brakes on a patch of gravel, a small spray of rocks pinging against the undercarriage. Dust blooms behind you like smoke.

He grins, a glint of something wild in his eyes. It's conspiratorial like the two of you are teenagers sneaking off to do something you shouldn't.

"Still light out, isn't it?"

The Sawtooth Crest Mine doesn't feel so different from the ghost towns scattered across the Great Basin. A handful of sagging structures, burnt or crushed into rubble by weather and time. Others lean precariously on the verge of collapse.

You pass signs designating offices and a warehouse, bunkhouses, and a rec hall. You scan the empty windows and doorways as if you'll find answers or at least a hint.

The woods creep in, decades of reclamation around you.

After all the effort to get here, the memorial feels like a joke. A slab of stone with a tarnished plaque bolted onto the front. The text is largely illegible, worn down, and that's what's left. It looks like someone took a pickaxe to the rest of it.

You step closer, brushing your fingers over the pitted stone. John stands back, letting you have the moment. It feels intrusive, like standing at a stranger's grave. You suppose you are, in a way. Some bodies are reported unrecoverable.

The thought makes the back of your neck itch.

John waits until you're done, then gestures toward the mine itself. The main entrance gapes wide, its opening barred with iron rods and sheet metal, wired tight like a broken jaw. While you stare through the gaps, imagining further in, John steps to the side, casually working the padlock on the access door. A click, the chain slithers to the ground in a pile, and the door swings open.

"What are you—Isn't it dangerous?"

"Been here loads of times," he grins. "Drinking with the lads, mucking around. C'mon, we won't go far."

The grin isn't much comfort, but when he beckons, you follow. He leads you into the yawning dark, pulling out an emergency light clipped to his keys, throwing a small pool of light that splashes over your feet and up the closest section of wall. You stick close, your shoulder brushing his arm as the daylight behind you fades.

As you walk along, he talks. He points out the skeletal remains of machinery, rusted carts, and tools that have sat untouched for decades. The damp air thickens with the smell of soil and rust. You reach a junction where two tunnels branch off from a central chamber, a lift cage sitting in the middle, waiting.

John points to it, voice bouncing off the walls as he explains how it worked, how the whole system of pulleys and tracks kept the mine running. About the hoist operators, and how they were 'jokingly' referred to as Saint Peter.

It's leagues more than Dusty ever shared, more than you ever overheard at the company picnics where he kept you in the dark as his smiling but simple wife. The irony isn't lost on you—standing here now, in the dark, learning more about your husband's trade from another man than you had in years.

"How do you know so much?"

John shrugs, his proud smile cast in shadow. "Talking to old-timers at The Fox Hole. They've got stories for days, especially after a few pints." His hand worries the cable like he's feeling for a pulse. "Nikolai's worse than me. The know-it-all." Then, he steps closer, his hand finding the small of your back, pulling you to him. He presses a brief kiss to your forehead.

"Hate to be crass, but I've got to take a leak. Got your phone?"

You fumble it out of your pocket, holding it up. The model is too old for a flashlight, but you turn the brightness up as far as it'll go and point it at the ground.

"Good," He sounds far too at home as if you're not both standing in the belly of a dead mine. "Stay put. I'll be right back."

He glances between the tunnels, making his choice, before he starts down the left passage.

You watch the dark swallow him whole.

"Don't go too far."

There's an answer, but it's more sound than speech and further away than it should be.

And then his footsteps recede.

The glow of your phone barely lights your shoes. You shift your weight, biting the inside of your cheek to keep the low simmer of unease in your stomach from boiling over into something embarrassing. The flesh clenched between your teeth heats anyway.

John isn't far. He's just around the corner. If you walk down that tunnel, you'll see.

Your feet move, body ahead of your brain, the hair on the back of your neck standing straight up.

Then you catch it—nostrils flaring. Wet dog, mixed with straw. Brimstone and iron. Your shoulders tighten, a shiver running down your arms, goosebumps raising. Folding them across your chest, phone pointed out, you continue, taking tiny half-steps. Shuffling.

The tunnel warms as you go. The walls sweat. Silver flecks reflect the dim light like the creature's eyes you saw out your window.

"John?" You mean to call out, though it shakes out in a whisper. It's like trying to scream in a nightmare, stuck under the thick ice of sleep. You try again. "John?" No better.

Behind you, a metallic creak cuts through the silence. You freeze. Then your feet find full strides, the shuffle turning into a hurried walk. Pebbles slide underfoot, and you glance down, stopping short when you see it—a sandy tuft of hair, coarse and matted, lying just beside your foot.

The phone light trembles as you crouch, about to pluck the tuft from the ground.

And then another noise.

A low, guttural rumble rolls through the tunnel. You snap upright, spinning toward the direction you came from, holding your phone out as if it's an actual torch. The light catches nothing, and the growl comes again. Deeper. Closer.

You run.

The light swings wildly as you stumble forward, colliding hard with a set of support beams. They groan and slightly give at the impact, a thick cloud of dust erupting straight into your face. You cough and spin, lunging down the left passage when the tunnel splits again, painfully aware of how hopelessly lost you're becoming.

Something brushes your elbow, and every nerve in your body sounds the alarm. You jerk forward instinctively, your feet sliding on loose gravel. The ground shifts, and suddenly, you're falling, the cold floor of the mine rushing up to meet you in a bone-rattling thud.

You wake to a hand stroking your head. Your cheek rests on denim, rough but warm beneath you, and the rumble of an engine. You realize you're horizontal, stretched across the front seat of John's truck, your head resting on his thigh. The road bumps and jars you as the truck barrels forward.

"John?" Your voice cracks on his name.

The hand on your head pauses, then resumes, gentler. You tilt your head, blinking spots from your vision, and catch his worried glances. His face is tight, his jaw set. "You're alright. Took a spill, I think. Found you halfway down a tunnel in a heap."

You push upright despite his protests, wincing at the pull in your muscles. Your hand drifts to your forehead, where it throbs, and you flinch at a smear of sticky, drying blood. "What…?"

"Just a scrape. I checked it. Must've clocked yourself on the way down."

The truck jolts over a bump, and you steady against the door, staring at the trees blurring past. The sun is dipping low, painting the sky in streaks of orange and violet as John speeds down the logging road. How long were you out?

"Thought I told you to stay put," John chides softly, a nervous smile twitching his lip. "What were you doing?"

The memory floods back. The growl. The chase. Something touched you.

You stare straight ahead, fingers feeling nothing when you check your elbow.

Sometimes our minds play tricks.

"I…I don't know." You force a shrug, licking your lips. "I don't know."

John sees to your forehead. He dabs at the wound with a damp cloth, then spreads a layer of antibiotic over it with the tip of his finger. Twice, he asks if you're up to date on your tetanus shot, and twice, you confirm you are.

When he smooths the bandage on, his thumbs press it into place. He gently kisses it, then tilts your chin and kisses your lips the same way.

"Skittish thing," he teases, though his eyes carry a tinge of regret. "Shouldn't have left you alone."

Before you can respond, he's kissing you again, deeper, his hands sliding down to steady you atop his kitchen table like you might slip away.

You don't slip at all. You end up underneath him.

~~~~

While his girl sleeps off the consequences of her walk, his lesson leaking out of her, John summons his Watcher.

Kate is a good woman. Useful. Steady under pressure, keen as her old man, maybe more. She shoulders the responsibility and knows better than to complain. Her father wore his duty like a crown and bore it as a source of pride. Kate treats it as a job. One she always gets done.

But she pushes it.

"Why the fed, John?" she flicks ash from her cigarette. "He was bound to give up and leave."

John picks his teeth. "Didn't like the way he looked at her."

Kate narrows her eyes, dragging smoke into her lungs. "Looking at a pretty woman isn't a crime. There'd be plenty more carcasses if it was." She exhales sharply. "You broke the conditions of the pact."

"The conditions," he sneers, "state I can harvest the unfortunates and ne'er-do-wells. Vagrants. Show me an agent of the state with clean hands, and I'll cough Mr. Graves up right now."

Her lip curls at that, distaste evident. "A technicality, then. Still don't like it. All it got you was one meal, and it invited attention."

He ignores her insubordination. "You got information on the second course?"

"Kyle Garrick. Sent to investigate Graves's disappearance…" Kate reads, stubbing her cigarette on the edge of the counter. "And to look into other disappearances in the area."

John takes the picture Kate offers and stares at the younger man, oblivious to his new headshot. "He's looking for me, I presume?"

"Naturally, but…"

"But what?"

"He's looking for her, too."

Smoke curls between them. This fed business—it's irritating, inevitable. They've done this song and dance before. No matter the reason, the thought of some young buck sniffing around his doe sets his teeth on edge.

"Let's orchestrate a meeting then," John finally says, peeling the loose strip of laminate off in one smooth go. "Use this curious streak of hers to our advantage."

#the warren #price x reader #john price x reader #price x f!reader #john price x f!reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price x f!reader #do not glitch on me again tumblr please

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suzukiblu · 3 days ago

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Mystery slot

“As much fun as heat-cucking your feathered ass sounds, it’s not any actual material use to me, and ‘looking like Superboy’ is not exactly something that Superboy has a monopoly on,” Jason retorts dryly. Tim tilts his head, then shrugs.

“I’ll lie to Batman for you as long as it’s not in direct facilitation of committing either first or second-degree murder,” he says. “Twice.”

“Jesus,” Jason says, eyebrows popping up. Lying to Batman isn’t exactly out of a Robin’s purview, past or present, but lying to Batman for someone is, in fact, a very useful favor. “That’s the only requirement there?”

“Well, I’m not particularly concerned about you suddenly taking up trafficking or pushing hard drugs to kids, so yes,” Tim replies with another shrug. “I could also lie to Nightwing twice? Or both of them once, if you want to split the difference. I’m open to negotiations.”

“Oracle?” Jason asks as he cocks his head, because you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.

“. . . Oracle once,” Tim says, making a face. Which: fair. And also, still worth more than lying to Batman and Nightwing twice, as far as Jason’s concerned.

#anonymous #wip: draft stud #omegaverse

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retrocgads · 1 year ago

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UK 1987

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respectthepetty · 6 months ago

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Why I react when GMMTV acquires more BL Boys like Pokemon

TLWR: GMMTV is bigger than we think

For the people in the room who don't understand why some of us (aka ME) get concerned every time a new artist is announced at GMMTV, let me explain myself (and capitalism) to you.

I'm talking to you.

Yes, you. No, don't roll your eyes. *gently holds your face in my hands* Look at my face. I'm serious. Look me in my eyes. I understand that you think I'm overacting and being ridiculous, but I want you to know why I keep harping on this. And I'll try to make it quick. I promise.

Remember this scene from Jack & Joker when the rich people were playing a version of Monopoly? And Jack asked if they were "just playing with people's lives"?

That's capitalism.

So what does that have to do with a Thai talent agency?

Well, it's becoming a monopoly. Amazon and Google are considered monopolies. Legally. They have been sued for it. You might think that there is no way a Thai company worth millions is on the same level as two American companies that are worth trillions (yes, trillions), but Amazon and Google didn't start that way.

And neither did The ONE Enterprise which is the parent company of GMMTV, One31, Change2561, and a subsidiary of GMM Grammy (which at one point Nadao Bangkok was under it), plus countless other companies like Parbdee Tawesuk, Atime Media, and Exact.

Google started off as a search engine. Now we have Chromebooks, Google phones, Google software, Google maps, Google shopping, Gmail, and so much more like it owning YouTube. But there are still other companies that have search engines, so no big deal! We can just use those. But the reason Google was sued as a monopoly by the Department of Justice (and won) was because Google makes it very hard to use those other search engines since everything else it owns only allows us to use Google products. Therefore, there is no competition simply because Google has enough power to control what we, as the consumer, see.

But this didn't start overnight.

A lot of other companies who produce Thai QLs exist, just like all those other search engines still exist, but The ONE Enterprise produces the most QLs through its various branch companies. But not only do those companies produce them, they contract other smaller companies like Studio Commuan, Dee Hup House, Trasher Bangkok, Hard Feeling Film, and many more, which is normal, but that means at any given time, at least ~65-75% of the QLs from Thailand are from one company. But, but, but, The ONE Enterprise's channels also sells slots to other companies, so their QLs can be watched on GMM and other channels. And, remember, this enterprise has only existed in this form since 2022.

So in two years, that enterprise has gone from being behind maybe less than half of the QLs to having a hand in at around two-thirds of them if not more, which doesn't include the fact that the actors in those QLs also have concerts, music contracts, and so much more.

Also, the companies with the largest profits in Thailand are from the finance (banking), real estates (hotel), tech, and medical sectors. Yet GMM Grammy is the ONLY entertainment company in the top 250 from Thailand. That doesn't include the other parts of the conglomerate.

I know I'm throwing a lot around and it seems disconnected because I'm trying to not make this too long, but know this, if The ONE Enterprise already has a hand in, at the lowest estimate, 60% of all QLs made in Thailand and continues to acquire more actors like Studio Wabi Sabi's fleet when it restructred, the 40% that is left for everyone else will continue to shrink. Domundi/Mandee has about 25 actors. GMMTV alone has about 150. Smaller companies can get more actors just like GMMTV can, but with what money when they have to pay to air their shows on The ONE Enterprise's channels while The ONE Enterprise's shows get moved behind paywalls internationally which gives it even more money? And with what crew when The ONE Enterprise has the smaller houses on contract plus its own fleet of talent? And with what incentives can these other companies give actors when they don't have the capability of giving them a record deal, a hosting job, a reality show, merch options, and so much more that The ONE Enterprise can because IT. OWNS. EVERYTHING?

And most importantly, what is allowed to be created when these smaller companies have to abide by one company's rules so their shows can air?

Good for these actors going where the money is, but it's worrisome that The ONE Enterprise is *the* place where most of the money is, and it's only existed in this form for two years.

Money is power. QLs are Thailand's soft power, which can and does influence policies, laws, and society which means people's lives. So, once again, if one company has the most QLs, the most actors, and the most money, it has the most power.

And one entity having the most power in any sector is never a good thing.

#uno reverse card #gmmtv is not evil #but it is a company #under a larger company #that owns a lot!#the kids should get their money #but there should not be only one place they can get the money #there should never just be one place #that's a monopoly #it's fun as a game #but not real life #because monopolies control a lot #like what we get to see and know and experience

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cerastes · 11 months ago

Note

When Schwarz was new did people complain about her being too overpowered?

See, I've had this ask for two days, and I wanted to have a good chance to sit down and answer it properly, because it's a good springboard into something I find interesting, the zeitgeist back then and how it has evolved into current, modern Arknights. Let's do a little retrospective.

No, that didn't happen. As to why it didn't happen, well, there's a few factors, the first of which being Schwarz is not overpowered, she's a character with very evident flaws and very evident strengths, and these were, depending on the player, immediately understood or not really considered in depth.

See, Schwarz was the fourth 6* released after launch -- After Skadi, Ch'en, and Magallan, in that order -- and the absurd powerhouses back then were all launch Operators and arguably Ch'en: SilverAsh, Eyja, and Exusiai were the most popular back then, with Ch'en being a conditional potent burst damage dealer (her S2M3 was her main selling point, being an instant helidrop burst of damage that also hit air units). Schwarz was in a place similar to Ch'en in that she was conditional in how she blasted things; she has superior firepower but poor, strict range for a Sniper (back then, we had no such thing as categorized archetypes, so we just came up with nicknames, like "duelists" for what are now Dreadnoughts, "Schwarz-types" for Heavyshooters, "Enmity Guard" for Musha, and many others), and if you wanted to use her big killer skill, S3, she was only going to have a straight line worth of range to hit things.

See, the thing is, being strong wasn't an 'issue' back then. We wanted more and stronger units so we could break the monotony of SilverAsh swish swish, Eyja Volcano Hour, and Warfarin's Apple Pie Combo. A monotony that wasn't a monopoly, mind you, because it definitely wasn't the sole end way to deal monstrous amounts of damage and tackle hard content -- I myself was a dedicated Specter, Saria, and Angelina user -- but it was what practically all guide makers and tier lists suggested. Either way, the demand for Cool Strong New Units was definitely healthy back then, ESPECIALLY by the time of Schwarz' release, since Skadi and Magallan had been rather disappointing for 6*s; Skadi was the sole Abyssal Hunter buff that existed back then (Guard Specter had no Module, thus, no AH Buff), and without Modules or other AH buffs, all she could do was basically S2 Helidrop to kill something or use her S3 probably once per stage to become a raid boss and then sort of just stand there, offering nothing that other units couldn't since things back then were patently not strong enough to need her, as her 3* equivalent, Melantha, was pretty much enough to deal with anything that required a Dreadnought specifically, and you had other, stronger options that did more than JUST deal with strong enemies if a bomb of Skadi's caliber was needed, while Magallan suffered the unfortunate fate of being an early Summoner in a game where super instant DPS came free with your Xbox, leading to the vast majority of people to not really want to learn to play around her expensive Deployment Slot costs and dynamic gameplay, which also necessitated Mastery investment to put out numbers, investment that was not easy to make back then, as Masteries were something you REALLY rationed.

Another very important part as to why Schwarz didn't have to deal with this was because she was the only one of her type. She was a new way to play back then, so no one felt their favorite was threatened; Schwarz and Exusiai filled very different roles, with Exusiai being able to wreck high HP low DEF enemies with ease (which was basically 95% of enemies back then, notably All Bosses Except Big Bob, who has a DEF of 800) while Schwarz had HUGE chunky single hits that were meant to squash enemies even if their DEF was huge, but who ultimately would have less DPS than Exusiai in most cases. What's more, you would use Schwarz in plenty of set-ups anyways because she brought DEF Shred with her kit. People celebrated Schwarz back then because not only was she a cool new unit type, she could bring value to pretty much all sorts of parties with Physical damage, in a way that another unit I've omitted so far could for Arts damage, the support powerhouse of the early, mid, and modern game, throughout the years: Saria.

I make the specific comparison with Exusiai because eventually, the zeitgeist would change: Ash, from the R6S collab, made waves because she was strong, but also because it seemed like she'd steal away Exusiai's place as the Fast Shooter DPS Wrecker Supreme. Time would go on to prove that, no, she would not do that, because Ash is more of a Burst damage unit compared to Exusiai, with immense damage tied to a shorter window and the Stun condition, while Exusiai's DPS window isn't contingent on anything except "Does she do real damage or chip damage". But that was an early sign of things to come: Upstaging.

The initial fears of very strong units had more to do with "this unit is powercreeping an older unit" more than anything. Powercreep is inevitable, doubly so in gacha games where they gotta sell you the PNGs one way or another, and I'll always argue that Arknights has been incredibly good with handling powercreep compared to its peers (and just, as a game in general), but again, it's inevitable, so you end up with situations like Degenbrecher existing and Doctor Manhattan Exploding Ch'en and Irene right into niche uses (Ch'en nowadays being at her best as a support sub-DPS with her Module allowing for great party Offensive/Defensive SP charging, while Irene still has her powerful S1/S2/S1 loop combo with Dorothy) or, you know, Texas the Pale and Yato In A Fur Bikini completely obliterating Phantom out of the face of Terra.

All of this, in my opinion and perception, holds true nowadays: When a unit of a new archetype or playstyle releases and they are very strong, you only hear few people complaining about them being very strong, but when a unit could possibly powercreep an older unit, especially an older favorite, that number increases exponentially. Of course, creatures like Wisadel, Degenbrecher, and Ling exist, which blow other units out of the water entirely, and you've also had units like Surtr or Mlynar who aren't really directly powercreeping any specific units as much as powercreeping entire roles and concepts.

Arknights also does have more content creators now, which I also think worsens matters because they have an obligation and a blood oath to the algorithm to always make a video that goes something like "NEW OPERATOR EXTREMELY BROKEN?????" with a crappy clickbait thumbnail and since [GRUMP ALERT] most Arknights players hate thinking for themselves and love looking at The Content Creator to form their opinions on whether Unit Is Strong Or Not [/GRUMP ALERT], these sentiments, whether legitimate or not, tend to flare up more often. By the way, that's also not a good idea, because everyone thought Gnosis was an easy skip back when he released, and then it turned out Gnosis was cracked, and a shitload of CN players regretted not rolling for him, so hey, sometimes this does result in pretty funny things to occur, as it were.

But yeah, this has been a little retrospective of the zeitgeist throughout the years.

#long post #arknights #schwarz

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ewingstan · 6 months ago

Text

I Need to think more about how Ward treats the trope of reformed/defanged villains.

Parahumans have always played in the space of "nominally villainous character who the heroes can have a non-threatening relationship with," previously exploring it with the joint hero/villain efforts against the ABB or the Endbringers, then with Miss Militia accepting to accept Skitter's dominion in her territory. It was largely political non-aggression. Ward has plenty of that, but the interactions between the Undersiders and Breakthrough have both a more personal element to them and less of a "same side now, different side tomorrow" element. They were co-sponsoring a junior league of capes, for crying out loud.

The Undersiders haven't really filled the old "villain" niche since Rachel's epilogue in Worm, when she helped take care of a rampaging broken trigger with the heroes. Even so, its notable how the Undersiders have done remarkably little in the way of old-fashioned crime in Ward. Hell, the most "anti-social" thing Tattletale's done is sell info on Rain to his cluster, along with selling info to villains more generally. While playing all sides was something that got you slotted as a de-facto villain in Worm, it seems like it actually does get treated more like neutrality-if-not-heroism within the new state of things.

That's mostly notable because a neutral cape in comics tends to default to being a hero with a punk coat of paint. Your Harley Quinns and Deadpools show up on hero ensemble teams nowadays way more often than they're robbing banks. The Undersiders almost feel like they're falling victim to the same sort of heroism drift much of the time, though wildbow seems to want to point out that such a position needs hero buy-in. Vista can tell Victoria about how Aisha and Rachel are basically just ersatz co-workers, and that could accurately describe her relationship with them. But Taylor tried doing something similar, and she didn't actually have that "friendly anti-hero" position until she forced the PRT into a position where she had to be inducted. Before that, even if she was being more proactively heroic than Rachel and Aisha are nowadays*, she was still treated fully as a villain. Friendly anti-hero status requires buy-in from the in-group, and Vicky has always been more hesitant to grant that status—especially to people like Rachel who barely fit into her idea of "cape." At least Lisa plays the game.

*This is, of course, ignoring that Taylor was actively seeking to usurp Protectorate control of the city, whereas the heroes have never really had a similar monopoly in The City, and most of the efforts to form such a monopoly that Victoria has spearheaded have included the Undersiders in some form.

#mals says #mals reads ward #wildbow #wardblr #parahumans #ward 16.6

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anim-ttrpgs · 1 year ago

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Yet another A.N.I.M. interview! This time with the podcast Not DnD!

In a way, this is the biggest A.N.I.M. interview yet, because it features the largest number of members of our team in a single interview to date! @ashweather and I go over some more of the design philosophy of Eureka, while @chaospyromancy, never before seen on a TTRPG interview, explains her approach to the art direction of much of the rulebook, and where she takes inspiration from for it!

This was a very fun interview and the hostess was very fun to talk to, check it out!

Don’t forget also that we are driving towards a patreon goal for June! If we can get (and, importantly, keep) 50+ paid patreon subscribers, we will be adding one of the unmet stretch goals from the Kickstarter to Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy! That stretch goal is a new type of playable monster, the gorgon! Signing up to our patreon(link) will not only help us (and everyone else who wants to play as a gorgon), it will get you access to so much more! Regularly released beta versions of the rulebook full of new content, adventure modules, short stories, etc.!

If this interview made you want to give Eureka a shot, but you can’t afford the $5/month patreon subscription, then you’re in luck! You can get a free beta copy of the rulebook right now by joining the A.N.I.M. TTRPG book club! Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is the current game we are playing in there for the next few sessions! Join now, and there will probably still be slots for you join in and play! If not, you can pick up a free PDF anyway to read along and listen in to play sessions! Here's the invite link! https://discord.gg/gGdbGfr8F5

Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but our Kickstarter page is still the best place to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, and where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.

Beta Copies through the Patreon

If you want more than just status updates, going forward you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and it’s adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

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