#i'm afraid it's terminal

[flowersforthemachines]

It's actually insane how much Kal-Sharok they let you explore when the quest basically asks you to walk in a straight line. Multiple NPCs have ambient dialogues that you can only hear in full if you pass by them several times. And all of that is optional. Is this another case of weird resource allocation (the game most certainly does that) or signs of cut content I wonder

[tokruta]

The death grip Hayden as Anakin has on me is catastrophic

I just saw an edit from the new Ahsoka episode and I was legit losing my mind

Hopping, swinging my legs, twirling my hair, smiling like mad, and singing along to the song with heart eyes basically

I just...

HOW DO I NOT LOSE MY MIND?!?!?! IT'S IMPOSSIBLE HE'S JUST SO AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[redsrooftopprincess]

Fuck yes I'm SCREAMING

I suffer from ninja turtleitis. It's fatal, I'm afraid

[formulaonedirection]

musings on a legacy of growth and conscious effort and kindness and sincerity and love and a capacity for thoughtfulness and self-reflection that's far more meaningful than perfection

[thanatika]

i've had this pathologic 3/quarantine post sitting in the drafts for ages that criticizes sanity mechanics as a concept (i think they're generally worse at generating ludonarrative harmony compared to physical health mechanics). but i didn't want to just be critical, so i've also been thinking for awhile about what i think could be added to really improve the game's sanity system and make the mechanic more interesting.

basically, i think that high mania/apathy should have an actual impact on gameplay that isn't just "your health meter starts decreasing" or "you can't start dialogue until you normalize your psychosis meter" or "a craaaazy glitch filter appears over your vision". these just feel like inconveniences, they don't instill the type of visceral desperation in the player that is necessary for this to work as the game's new sole survival mechanic. my biggest suggestion for how to make the sanity mechanic feel more visceral would be to allow the bachelor to start conversations even at high levels of mania or apathy, but with his mental state influencing how he behaves in conversation. grey out the friendly, cooperative dialogue options, so that the player can see the potential to choose a diplomatic option, but can't select it. force the player to choose the worst, most aggravated responses instead when dankovsky is under stress. and of course, if he's being an asshole, then the people he's talking to should withhold key information about potential clues or locations where he could access resources. life gets harder.

but then i realized i was just reinventing depression quest but as a walking simulator.

[mybodyfails]

[wolfchans]

BANG CHAN ♡ SKZ TALKER 65

[moutheyes]

integrating real space and digital space in gelboys

one of my favorite things about gelboys is how it harnesses contemporary social media as a kind of semiotics—how meaning is coded and transmitted—that is rooted in the way young people socialize and perform rituals of courtship in both real space and digital space. for instance, how certain actions can signal interest or affection (making a shared playlist, adding someone to close friends), or keep a person at distance (leaving them on read, blocking obviously). or how moments and actions are simultaneously mutable (deleting a line message, changing a username) and preservable (taking a screenshot, saving a tiktok).

at the same time, gelboys excels at establishing vivid and specific physical locations to anchor the humanity of the characters and storylines. school, siam square, the nail shop, bedrooms, every detail even down to specific charging outlets. in real space, the camera can do its work through blocking, framing, lighting, movement, and the acting itself; this has been the focus of my cinematography posts.

but what makes this show so special to me—and, I think, a lot of others—is the way boss kuno and his team were able to transpose and integrate the semiotics of that digital world into the physical setting and action of the show through innovative visual storytelling. (the sound design was also tremendous, but that's harder to break down without the aid of video lol.)

finding meaning beyond the screen

while the digital world offers these teenagers new modes of expression and interpretation, it is also very much a limited, often self-edited form of communication. first of all, a phone screen is only so big, and many video platforms encourage portrait view, so the narrow physical frame of the device itself can necessarily only show a subjective truth. in that way, the screen acts as a depository where the characters can store their fantasies of who they want to be and how they want the world to perceive them—fourmod playing around with chian's picture to mimic a kiss, bua filming take after take of a dance challenge. and it makes them performers of their own lives and voyeur-observers to each other's.

the show cleverly delineates that exact tension between text (i.e. the content being uploaded to social media) and context (everything that gets cut off in the wider view, or happens before or after the clip) in scenes like this:

the crop overlay visually separates the imagined digital space from real space, so there's an additional layer of symbolism to be found in the context. chian and bua dancing together conveys one meaning for the viewers on tiktok and a separate meaning for fourmod, who is in the frame in real space but not digital space. here he is both the observer (the one filming) and an object affected by the act of observation (the emotional distance he feels as the scene progresses, which is emphasized by his positioning). the way gelboys builds and conveys these layers of meaning by visually integrating digital space into real space is such a treat.

sites of action in digital space

even if digital space is a non-physical entity, that doesn't mean it can't serve as a site of action, and gelboys deliberately stages crucial moments within that virtual realm: chian switching between bua and fourmod on his close friends list, baabin's confession and deleted messages, the zoom summit, to name a few. in fact, thinking back on the scenes that elicited some of the strongest visceral reactions across fandom, quite a few of them stemmed from actions that took place on social media rather than real space. here's a little thought exercise:

is the action shot of fourmod panic-scraping his nails off more or less violent than watching him delete his shared playlist with baabin or create and post an AI video of faifa? (actually wow I might come back to fourmod re: this topic later lmao help) arguably, the audience recognizes the semiotics of those actions—deprioritizing baabin's friendship once he has chian's attention, intentionally doing something to make faifa hate him, not to mention the deepfake part of it—so even though all we're looking at in the exact moment of action is a mouse hovering over the "post" button or an app UI, we still feel as strong of an emotional impact as if fourmod had done something equally appalling in real space.

digital ephemera and memory

people tend to think of social media as a primarily transient mode of communication, and although much of it can be (ignore the data sitting in a physical server somewhere), gelboys shows its characters preserving—and erasing—a great deal of digital ephemera as a mode of memory.

three of the four gelboys are constantly creating collections of messages, photos, etc. (beyond what they post on their accounts) that serve as digital scrapbooks where their truest feelings are kept, and they do it in ways that reflect their individual characterizations. baabin takes screencaps of his conversations with fourmod and hides them away in a folder on his phone, while chian squirrels away his affection for fourmod on a secret account; in this, too, they are two sides to a coin. bua, meanwhile, stores his memories in the form of tiktok drafts—a sort of digital limbo. in his charging gel episode, his phone is running out of storage, an apt metaphor for needing to let go of his friendship with chian. baabin gives him the option of transferring them over instead, but it's unclear whether bua actually ends up doing that. in either case, the collection of ephemera is no longer in his possession.

(fourmod is not really shown doing this—he tends to do the opposite, and is 1000% gonna get his own post about it)

so it's momentous when baabin deletes his entire fourmod folder, when chian airdrops fourmod his old photos and posts his apology as an IG highlight despite knowing he's blocked. like bua, baabin clears out his storage, removing the record of what he once felt for fourmod. and chian is no longer trying to keep his feelings to himself, but rather choosing to show fourmod his collected memories directly; he wants fourmod to remember as well. social media allows us to pick and choose which memories to keep and which to let go, and the emotional changes for three of the four gelboys can be easily tracked by these acts of preserving and discarding digital ephemera.

in gelboys, the importance placed on both real space and digital space, and the visual language used to merge the two, invites the audience to parse the story on multiple levels, but the reward for investing that energy is monumental. it feels like every time I think I've exhausted my thoughts on one topic, a few more pop up. anyway, thanks as always if you read all of this!

[hmmm-toastie]

Been slaving away on this one and I'm finally HAPPY WITH IT (pls tumblr i beg you don't compress it down to ass PLEASE)

A quiet moment between Marik and their lover Vivek. A little short story snippet under the cut hehehehe Also this was on repeat the whole time and really capture the feral dog vibes going on here

“You wish to… tend to my hair?”

“Indeed.”

“...I do not understand.”

“What do you not understand, Marik?”

Marik keeps their face expressionless. Irritation would only invite correction on top of what they must already reap. They had lashed out at Lachlan and drawn blood.They would be punished for this transgression as was their new Masters right. Vivek had made it clear that there was to be no blood spilled between Packmates in anger and Marik had sliced the blood sorcerer from navel to collarbone. 

Intent meant nothing in the face of disobedience. Excuses would only prolong the inevitable, if not make it worse. 

Vivek continues in the face of their silence and Marik smothers a wince. Vivek was a different sort of Master to their Lord - their Sire - but their continued insolence would not stand, this they know. 

“You have told me before that you take great pride in your appearance,” he says, turning away from the large windows and his city sprawled out below at last. “Yet you have allowed yourself to reach this state.”

Marik does not look away but they know what Vivek refers to. They still wear Lachlan’s blood - dried and tacky -  in their hair, along with several flaking splatters across their chest and trapped under claws. 

“Forgive me Ductus,” Marik casts their eyes to the floor, still smothering the mounting confusion within them. “I have not had a chance to make myself presentable before your summons.”

“As was my desire,” Vivek reveals. Then he crooks a finger.

Marik obeys instantly, crossing the room in a few long strides until they are before him with eyes averted. Though they are much larger than Vivek, it is he who possesses all the power within this room. He is their new Master, their… Ductus. The word is still unfamiliar on their tongue but it is one they must learn. Marik only lives by his mercy and though they are still learning what exactly freedom means, it was granted to them by Vivek. 

“I would have had them bring a chair,” Vivek muses, “but we have none large enough for you.”

“Apologies Ductus.”

“Nevermind,” he sighs and moves to sit on the large exquisite four poster bed. “Marik, we must speak on what happened.”

Ah. Here it is. In a way it is almost a relief to be punished at last. This is familiar to them, and there is comfort in the familiar, especially in this strange place among strange kindred they do not know and do not trust. 

“I beg your forgiveness, Ductus,” Marik says. “I shall accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate without complaint.”

“Good,” Vivek nods. “But this is not a punishment. Rather an… exercise. You are going to show me that you can restrain yourself from violence within this Haven, and you will allow me to brush your hair for you.”

Marik’s head rises despite themself, a frown on their face. 

“I do n-” when Vivek catches their eye with a spark of red within his own, Marik snaps their mouth shut. “Of course Ductus.”

Vivek remains perched on the edge of the feather down bed, so Marik sinks down to the floor at his feet. Unease begins to rise in them like a tide, the Beast within them growling and snapping as they slowly turn their back to him. Every part of them tenses like a spring. Showing your back to another is anathema. Were Marik back home, among their brood siblings, it would have been an open challenge and invitation to attempt to strike them down. 

But there is nothing. Not yet. They can hear Vivek behind them, can smell him and his faint jasmine scent. And the ink that he was using no doubt to write his many letters and treatises and orders. Marik sits perfectly still, head bowed, eyes fixed on the floor ahead of them. The longer nothing happens, the more Marik wants to dig in their claws into something. The wood would do, or the stone. Their own flesh begins to look appealing. The waiting is a cruel punishment indeed. The tension in their body is so tight they might as well be marble. 

Finally there is a shift behind them and Vivek speaks. 

“You have more scars than I noticed before.”

Ah.

“Yes,” Marik’s eyes remain fixed ahead of them. “One of the few things from my human days I still possess.”

“Your Sire was cruel to you.”

Marik says nothing.

“I am not sorry to have killed him,” Vivek continues. “You were wasted on him.”

I am Loyal, the words bubble up on instinct. But Marik clamps their jaws shut. They were loyal, always loyal. And in the end it changed nothing. 

“What is done is done,” Marik instead mutters and behind them Vivek makes a non committal sound. 

Silence reigns again.

When Vivek finally touches them, it takes everything in Marik not to flinch. They’re not certain they are able to hide it. The soft touch is so unexpected that it sends a hot rush of the prey urge to flee through every part of their body, even down to their toes and their tail. Their claws dig into the soft meat of their palms and the sharp pain is a welcome relief. It’s comforting. Familiar. 

If Vivek noticed - which Marik is certain he must have - he says nothing. Instead he quietly begins to separate out their long hair into sections, running his fingers through it and teasing out the larger snags of dried blood. He does this for a long time. Then his hands disappear. 

Marik is again left waiting. It feels like an eternity though they know it is only seconds. 

Vivek’s hands return with a brush and slowly, methodically and with a tenderness that nearly shatters Marik into pieces… he begins to brush their hair. 

Marik is utterly frozen, like someone watching a blade sailing towards their neck. When was the last time that someone touched them like this…? They- they don’t remember. Their Lord and Sire had been gentle too, but his touch when they were flayed open on the Table, being perfected, was so painful that they felt like they were burning up in ice. This…? Marik doesn’t know how to react to this. 

It is a trick. Something far, far, far cruller than anything they have experienced before. These soft and tender caresses are too much. Vivek fingers, though cool and calloused, take their time and when they graze across the petals of skin Marik had styled for themself so long ago, they shiver. 

Some ancient, dormant part of them is waking up. It is a part of Marik that terrifies them. Yearning. Oh the sudden, sick, starving yearning that crawls up their throat from the deepest pit within themself is overwhelming. The idea of this. Of touch without the fear of teeth, or the pain no matter how sweet and familiar, leaves Marik broken to pieces inside. 

They should not want this. They have not earned it. It is not theirs. It is not for them. But they do want it. They are sick with want for what Vivek seems to be offering them. He has not even asked them for anything. Their Ductus, their Master, is simply doing this of his own volition. And despite themself and despite the fear and their howling, rabid Beast, Marik closes their eyes. The tension in their body snaps, like a taut ribbon slided in the middle. They sag, a strange sound escaping them as they sit there and let Vivek brush their hair. 

Both are completely silent. Marik’s eyes remain closed, their body unwinding and relaxing into a hazy fog they would be content to never emerge from. A quiet purr and a low chuckle are the only sounds that break this tender moment in the moonlight. But the moment must end at some point, even these sweet things come to an end. 

Vivek puts his hand on Marik’s back, the first time he’s actually touched their skin, and murmurs that he has finished. Both stand then and Vivek hands Marik the beautifully crafted golden brush which they take reverently. 

“Why?” Marik finally breaks the silence before they leave and Vivek gives them a smile. It’s one that belies knowing far too much and he confirms it when he speaks. 

“Because you are loyal,” he says simply.

Marik leaves after that and avoids Vivek for several nights. Eventually however, they find themself standing at his door again, brush in hand. It becomes a ritual, the two of them tending to each other which has so much more meaning than can ever be put to words. It’s a ritual that carries on into the modern nights, 500 years later. A knight and their lord. A dog and its master. A worshiper and their god. Lovers and everything in between.

[aethes-bookshelf]

the smoothening got to him 😔

I… I hate it here

“Hot version of Halsin”?!?

WHO THE HELL IS THAT AND WHAT HAVE THEY DONE WITH HALSIN?????

[levemetal]

I have a million and one svsss AU ideas that idk if I'll ever write cause I have 0 confidence in my untested writing skills. Any of these appeal to you?? Go ahead, use 'em. Know any fanfics like that? Please please PLEASE leave them in the comments. Ideas to add? Anything? Please go ahead I have no friends that are as deep in the svsss brainrot as me to subject this to ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚

Continued under the cut due to excessive rambling

These will be Ghost King/Calamity!SJ cause he has been living rentfree in my brain ever since one braincell at one AM shouted about it so you have been warned.

- Dual Ghost Kings YQY and SJ, Post canon of PIDW. That's it that's the idea. Their extras hurt my cold dead heart way too much and as much as bbygirl SJ is a piece of shit, Yue Qingyuan deserves happiness, and for that he needs his Xiao-Jiu. Basically YQY does not stay dead when Bingge turns him into a pincushion à la White No Face to Xie Lian except with arrows. What happens from here? Idk didn't get that far but I imagine he steals back his (probably dead) Xiao-Jiu, maybe does some other batshit insane shit like we all know that deep down he's capable of, and the duo fucking COMMUNICATES for once in their life and they live happily ever after. Bonus points for hilarious deaths for Bingge.

- If you're a filthy multishipper like me, want a BingJiu version of the above QiJiu? Easy, SJ decides to haunt Bingge's ass for eternity and vice versa when Bingge kicks the bucket and so they spent the rest of eternity trying to make each other miserable in increasingly ridiculous and creative ways. Maybe along the centuries they find a common enemy or sort their shit out and proceed to make their awful existence everyone else's problem. A match made in hell, truly <3

Are you seeing a theme yet. I like a general comedic air to svsss AUs, it just belongs to the svsss experience ya know? Anyway carrying on-

Shen twins, and SQH twins cause why not. If you want Binghe twins too, actually probably funnier with Binghe twins, where one is our beloved maiden Bingmei and the other OG!PIDW Bingge but forced back in time with memories of the PIDW timeline. Transmigrator SQH aka Airplane gets the peak lord + Mobei-Jun plotline while OG!SQH is just chilling as an An Ding Peak Hallmaster or something. Meanwhile, the Shen twins have a funny game of imposter going on. As far as everyone is concerned, there is only one Shen Qingqiu, Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan transmigrated in earlier into the novel, but ended up going to CQM with Yue Qi while SJ got stuck in the Qiu household as in canon. From here the details can change but the main idea is that

A) Shen Yuan knows how to do his peak lord job actually

B) SJ is a calamity ghost, having died either in his disciple years or alternatively never made it out of the Qiu household alive

C) Both SY and SJ have been playing switcheroo when SY needs to head out and do stuff or just wants SJ to do his paperwork for him.

I still need a good reason for the switching and duping, but wouldn't it be funny if the disciples just had to deal with their peak lord behaving WILDLY different at times. Most of the time it's good ol' Shen Yuan smiling at disciples, way too enthusiastic for monsters and plants and keeps forgetting his fans everywhere. Then one random week in the month after he has a resting bitch face, scowls, snarls and bitches at anyone and has 0 patience for teenage attempts at music.

Most shrug it off as just terrible migraine weeks, but some disciples are suspicious, most of all Bingge who is CONVINCED something is WrongTM. Like, he KNOWS SQQ and this SQQ is just so different, something must be different. He doesn't know how right he is yet everyone just thinks he's actually insane.

I know this is probably increasingly insane and dumb, but fast forward to the Abyss opening. SJ was probably there to keep an eye on his clumsy twin, but SY ends up asking the ghost to look over the Luos, as the system still demands that they go to the abyss. So SJ after much grumbling agrees (after all he probably just was unmasked as ghost calamity, and the twins as demons, with a huge amount of cultivators moving their way. It's really the smaller hassle to jump into the Abyss and deal with the horrors there. Besides, the scholar in SJ would be curious about the abyss (and SY too let's be honest) ), kicks both in and goes "Alright we're taking an impromptu field trip" and jumps in after leaving SY to deal with the political mess that comes after.

Anyway, the last AU can be changed in various ways, like make it a PIDW time travel fix it with only the OGs around, or just Shen twins, etc. Feel free to shout at me how dumb this all is.

[susielesbianism]

One thing about me is I can never settle on a good way to draw Noelle's Dark World outfit ever. I feel like I've gone through several iterations of default robe to gown to default robe but w/ added elements to different robe altogether

And now I'm gone down the Gunne Sax dresses rabbit hole on ebay while vintage window shopping and I'm seeing some of the old wedding or just plain white gowns and thinking "but what if different Noelle Dark World dress design though 👀"

[avoskorm]

[plutonious]

send me art reqs boy

[lynaiss]

Sits upright in my crypt oh a new Warhammer game by owlcat?? Hohoho

[tinglingfuckingsensation]

Going insane about Bastogne again.....best episode of TV ever made hands down