watchmewhirl

[watchmewhirl]

new animation, this time deltarune!! i love this game so dearly, so this was super fun to make! :]

[watchmewhirl]

things to do instead of youtube

Obviously you can go do anything, but this one is specifically for people who listen to youtube to fall asleep or in the background of work or whatever:

-twitch streams

-catch up on shows and movies youve been meaning to watch on various streaming services (I say use the legit services because youtube can compare their drop in traffic to the spike in traffic at lets say netflix. Obviously pirating exists, but the data from another legit service helps slap youtube in the face again)

-pick your fave creator and subscribe to their patreon (also helps support them while they take the hit from people leaving youtube)

-podcasts (tons of youtubers also have a podcast, and you can support them by listening here!)

-audio books

-audio dramas (im starting the magnus archives, relistening to welcome to night vale, and theres a couple batman ones too i wanna check out)

-go seek out new music! Ask friends to make you playlists of songs they recommend, or take a chance on a new soundcloud artist, or go find your favorite band and listen to their entire back catalogue

-noisescapes! You dont need youtube to find ambient noise to listen to, plenty of other sites make these or even allow you to customize your own

-physical sound machines, like white noise machines or those stuffed animals that play sounds. Yes, theyre for babies. Yes, you can buy and use them too. Im 30 and I have a sleep sheep- my favorite is the rolling waves and distant thunder setting

-videos on vimeo and dailymotion. Right now these are youtubes most directly analogous competitors. Driving their site traffic up might make youtube think they do in fact have viable competition

[watchmewhirl]

ITS AUGUST 13TH I BETTER SEE NOOOOOOOOOONE OF YALL ON YOUTUBE DURING THIS BOYCOTT.

REMEMBER. STAYING OFF FOR ONLY ONE DAY DOES NOTHING. If you want to see change you NEED to wait until they revert the update

Here's a list of things you can do instead of go on the private info snatching website:

Watch Twitch Streams

Watch Movies/Shows

Pick up a new hobby/do your current hobbies

Go outside for a walk (or outside in general)

Create something

Talk to/hang out with friends

Try a new video game/play games in general

Check out some cool websites on Neocities

Pirate things you can't afford (like me)

Honestly there's sooooooooo much more than this you can do too. JUST HANG IN THERE!!! Together we can do something awesome

[watchmewhirl]

Where/how did you learn to write??? Getting ANYWHERE close to your writing style has been one of my goals when making fanfiction

I learned to write in first grade, when I was five years old; and I've continued learning every day of my life ever since.

It's the "every day of my life ever since" that makes the difference.

Fiction writing isn't like math, a correct formula for everything and specific techniques everybody's expected to learn at about the same time in about the same order. Writing's just something you do and keep doing and keep doing and keep doing.

You read a short story that haunts you until you pick apart what about its structure resonates with your mind—or about its characters, or about its themes, or about its symbolism. And then you read a metaphor that sticks in your brain until you find some place to use it yourself; and then you read a metaphor that means nothing to you but that teaches you what you can do with metaphors.

You attend a writing workshop and get nothing out of any of the advice offered on your stories except some tips that help only those specific stories; and then you hear the advice one participant gives another participant on their story and something clicks into place.

You read a blog post about a writing rule you realize you don't follow and so you try it out; you read an article about a writing rule you realize you've always been doing subconsciously so now you know how and why to do it on purpose; you read a post about a writing rule that you realize is beneath you because you already understand why that's a rule—how it affects a sentence, a paragraph, a story—and because you understand why it's a rule, you don't need to follow it anymore, because the effect it has on a story isn't the effect you're going for.

You read a book about how to write fiction, and out of 200 pages of advice, only two paragraphs stick with you—but they'll stick with you the rest of your life.

You skip reading the next book about how to write fiction—and that, too, shapes how you write fiction.

You get the best writing advice you've ever received not from a book about writing but from a deleted article about writing fanfic on a website dedicated to a toy franchise which you can now only read via the Wayback Machine.

You read 100 novels and ten years later you realize you owe everything about your style and skill to 6 of them—and they weren't even your 6 favorite novels, just the ones from which you had the most to learn. The rest of your style, you owe to 3 fanfic authors whose entire library you voraciously consumed when you were 11-15 years old.

The closer you get to telling the stories that live at the core of your heart, the more you realize that all your literary preoccupations come from the animated movies that made you cry when you were four years old.

You listen to a song and spend six months trying to use silent black-and-white 12 point Helvetica text to make other people feel the same emotions the melody makes you feel.

You do everything on the above list and don't get where you want because there's a thousand things I didn't list that you have to do. You skip half of the above list and get where you want anyway because of the other thousand things you did.

And you keep that up the rest of your life.

[watchmewhirl]

WHAT THE FUCK?! Everything about this is wrong.

Spin the wheel. That's who's trying to kill you.

Spin the wheel again. That’s who’s trying to protect you.

(If you have zero idea about the name you got, spin until you see someone you recognize.)

(Six months ago, I did a version of this poll with about five hundred options on the spinner wheel. For this one, I more than doubled it.)

[watchmewhirl]

About the YouTube AI age verification thing in the US:

Here is a link for another post detailing a boycott plan on the 13th of August. And if you think that it's not gonna be that bad...

IT WILL AFFECT YOU, TOO.

If you watch:

Gameplays and gaming-related videos, for example Minecraft, Undertale/Deltarune, The Sims 4, GTA/Minecraft roleplaying videos, mod videos (even if the mod is 18+), Genshin Impact and other gachas, horror games no matter the rating

Unboxing of Pokémon/Magic The Gathering/any other type of playing cards

Table Top Games, including watching TTRPG campaigns

Slime tutorials, probably (yeah, both kinds)

Essays/Commentary/Theories about IP for children, like cartoons/anime - Gravity Falls, Winx Club, Monster High, Pokémon, Digimon, Yu-Gi-Oh, My Little Pony, Miraculous Ladybug, Spongebob Squarepants, and the like

Anything about Doll Customizing, including ball-jointed dolls, Blythe dolls, OOAK projects, and anything similar

Cosplay videos, probably

Videos about collectibles like Labubu, Funko Pop, plushies, and similar

Videos and YT podcasts about Anime, like Trash Taste and Mother's Basement

VTubing, most likely, given the nature of animated avatars

And maybe, Draw With Me/Art tutorials of all kinds

There is a chance that the AI will target your account, EVEN IF YOU ARE NOT FROM THE USA, and flag it as an underage account because of your watching habits. Therefore, requiring you to provide your identification or photo to YouTube in order to continue using their services normally and not have your account deleted.

And here is the kicker: IF YOU DON'T and continue to use the service disregarding your account's newly found underage classification, THEY WILL CONTROL WHAT YOU CAN WATCH EVEN MORE. They are banking on you being too tired to fight this, and just accepting it as the new normal.

This is a blatant ploy to monitor the people and gather massive amounts of data to sell to governments, plural. If it works without too much of a hiccup in the US (and in the UK as well, since over there it's affecting every online service), other countries will follow suit.

If you are in the US, you have to fight this.

They've already come for Steam and Itch as a way of controlling self-expression and speech. This is yet another tool of censorship. And it WILL affect all of us, globally, eventually, because the internet serves a lot more people than the US and the UK, and the rules are applied mostly equally.

Share the boycott plan. Tell your friends and family about it. It will affect them, too.

[watchmewhirl]

Spent today downloading all my favorite videos and songs from YouTube to prep for the 13th. For anyone else joining the exodus I wish you luck. For anyone not, I still wish you luck and may you avoid the crossfire this thing's gonna enact.

[watchmewhirl]

would you like to read 5000 words of Bill trying to convince anyone who will listen (mostly Ford) that the state of Wyoming doesn't exist, and Ford trying to force Bill to admit he's a liar.

this involves arguing, a not-date to the movies, arguing, reducing Bill to begging on his knees, arguing, chess, arguing, and tactical counter-gaslighting.

This is how they flirt with each other.

This is also chapter 100 of this fic of human Bill as the Mystery Shack's prisoner, but I wrote this chapter to work as a standalone oneshot. so if you aren't reading that fic but do wanna see Bill and Ford having the stupidest argument on Earth, all you need to know is, after 99 chapters of character development, Bill and the Pines no longer want to murder each other on sight.

Also they have a pair of enchanted friendship bracelets that prevent the wearers from getting more than 30 feet apart from each other.

And also Ford stole a scuba-diving Bigfoot's wallet.

So, normal Gravity Falls stuff.

####

"Mabel fought a what?!" Stan demanded.

"A cursed camera," Ford said, shrugging. 

"A cursed— When did she tell you about this!"

"She didn't, I saw it on a video cassette she asked me to transfer after her sleepover last week. One of her guide to life episodes."

"Last week?! And you didn't say anything?!"

"It didn't occur to me! I've contained all the cursed materials and it didn't steal anyone's soul, so it didn't seem urgent."

"It didn't do WHAT?!"

Ford hadn't expected to start an argument this early. They'd only just gotten up; he wasn't even fully dressed yet. Which was saying something, since all that involved was pulling on his coat and boots.

All he'd said was that Dipper had woken him up last night to say a ghost got in the house; and from Dipper's description (nightmares with horrifyingly bad puns, hipstery red and green striped sweater, embarrassing fedora, and cutlery-covered glove) they were both sure it was the Category 9 "Dream Hipster" that usually haunted the old Corduroy cabin; and he was surprised since the Mystery Shack was supposed to still be protected from incorporeal intruders by the unicorn hair barrier; and he might have to check the barrier to make sure there was nothing wrong with it; and while he was thinking about signs the barrier might be damaged, that had reminded him about the cursed camera— And here they were.

"On second thought, I suppose the barrier doesn't apply to the camera," Ford mused. "It's not possessed, it's the curse itself giving it life. Plus, it was already inside the house."

"Already inside the—!" Stan dragged his hands down his face. "Fine, all right—as long as the kids defeated the thing."

Ford's innate need to be pedantically precise in every detail warred with the knowledge that correcting Stan's assumption would just make things worse again. His common sense was still half asleep and too weak to fight off the pedant. "Well, yes, but, actually... Bill defeated it."

And Stan's rage was back. "Bill was there?! He's probably the one who cursed the camera!"

"He—didn't, actually," Ford said.

"How can you be so sure!"

"Because I cursed it?" he admitted sheepishly.

"Oh."

"By all appearances, Bill completely behaved himself at the sleepover. I admit, it surprised me. But all he did was teach the girls how to summon a demon—"

"WHAT!"

"And frankly, the instructions he gave them on the procedure was impeccable. I wouldn't have taught it any differently," Ford said. "He was a little lackadaisical with the security measures, but—"

"That's it!" Stan stormed from their guest room, slamming the door behind him. "Hey demon! What's the big idea, getting my niece to summon one of your demon pals?!"

Come to think of it, maybe the successful demon summoning was more proof there was something wrong with the barrier. Ford really ought to check the barrier today.

But first, he should probably follow Stan.

And he would. As soon as he was dressed.

He pulled on his boots as slowly as possible.

####

"—and if you ever pull a stunt like that around the kids again, I'm steamrolling you into a big flat sheet of Bill paper—"

"Would you?" Bill asked hopefully.

Stan ignored him. "—feeding you into a paper shredder, burning the shreds, packing the ashes in a tuna tin, sticking a stamp on it, and mailing what's left of you to Wyoming!"

Without breaking eye contact, Bill took a long, slow sip from his mug of black coffee & hot sauce as he considered which retort would most ruin Stan's morning.

And then, with a perfect poker face, he said, "Oh, haven't you heard?"

####

When Ford left the guest room, Stan was angrily saying in the kitchen, "You don't expect me to believe there's some sort of giant hole in the ground—"

"Whoa, hey, I never said the physical land doesn't exist," Bill said. "I'm just talking about the political entity!"

"But I'm banned from Wyoming! Explain that!"

"You were banned without ever setting foot in Wyoming. Weird, don't you think? Why were they so determined to keep you from crossing Wyoming's so-called borders?"

Stan hesitated. "That— Obviously they heard about my reputation!"

Ford considered driving into town for coffee, decided he probably shouldn't be driving without coffee, and reluctantly crept into the kitchen. He walked past the argument, keeping his eyes fixed on the coffeemaker.

He felt Bill's eyes on the back of his head for only a split second before Bill's attention returned to Stan. "Yeah, your reputation for breaking laws and running your mouth. They knew that if you ever found out about the conspiracy, they'd never convince you to keep quiet about it."

"What kind of stupid conspiracy—!"

Ford's common sense, already weary from its battle with his pedantry, was knocked out cold by his curiosity. As he poured his coffee, he asked Stan, "What's the latest bullsoup?"

"Cipher says Wyoming doesn't exist."

Ford gave them both a baffled look. "What do you mean, 'doesn't exist'? That doesn't make any sense."

"Think about it," Bill said cheerily. "Do either of you know anybody from Wyoming? Do you even know someone who knows someone from Wyoming? Little suspicious, isn't it?"

"Well, I..." Ford trailed off. He looked at Stan for help. Neither of them could think of anyone.

"See? You can't prove it," Bill said. "You can't prove Wyoming's real."

Stan flung his hands up. "It's too early for this." He grabbed a coffee mug for himself and clapped Ford on the shoulder as he passed. "Tag, you're it."

Bill's smile widened as his gaze shifted to fresh prey. "C'mon, Stanford, you're a logical guy. Just look at any map—you never thought it was odd that Wyoming's a perfect rectangle right in the middle of the country? Doesn't follow any natural borders like rivers, or mountains, or..."

"That doesn't prove it isn't real, what about Colorado?"

"Oho! Don't worry, we'll get to 'Colorado' later," Bill said.

"Hold on, I've been to Wyoming," Ford said. "I passed through it while I was driving across the country to Oregon!"

"No, you passed through parts of Colorado and Utah that your roadmap labeled as Wyoming," Bill said.

"That's ridiculous. Of course I was in Wyoming!"

"Do you have any concrete evidence that the stretch of land you passed through was actually, really Wyoming," Bill asked. "Anything at all."

Ford's scowl deepened; but he chugged down his coffee, slammed his mug on the table, and stormed out of the room.

Bill grabbed the salt shaker, dumped enough salt to mummify a baby mouse into Ford's empty mug, then sat back to wait.

Ford was back in several minutes. "Here!" He slammed an old scrapbook on the table in front of Bill, already open. "I took these while I was crossing the country!" He sat down and crossed his arms.

Bill inspected the book. During his move from New Jersey to Oregon, Ford had stopped to take photos of all the highway signs welcoming visitors as they crossed into a new state: this page displayed the signs into Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska... and Wyoming.

Bill glanced up at Ford, brows arched. "You see how committed they are to maintaining this conspiracy? False road signs and everything!"

Ford gave Bill a dead-eyed look; then sighed, got heavily to his feet, and refilled his coffee mug. He drank half the mug without the slightest change in his facial expression. Bill watched in fascination.

Finally, Ford said, "Do you have any positive evidence that Wyoming isn't real."

"Oh no. Burden of proof lies with the party making the outrageous claim, and you're the crackpot arguing Wyoming does exist."

"Fine! I'll prove Wyoming's existence so conclusively, even you'll have to admit it's real!"

Bill raised his hands over his head and flashed Ford a pair of finger guns. "All right, smart guy. I'd love to see you make me."

####

"What's going on here?" Melody asked, eyes narrowed warily.

Bill was leaning in Soos's bedroom door, one hand on his hip, ankles crossed. He pointed, "Only working computer in the house."

Melody peered around Bill. Ford was at Soos's computer, puzzling his way through a website. A page loaded, and Ford let out a triumphant, "A-ha!" He pointed at the screen. "Denver International Airport lists five departures to Jackson Hole Airport and five arrivals from JAC."

"Planes are only routed through JAC as layovers to other locations," Bill said confidently. "JAC is actually on the border of South Dakota and Nebraska; nobody finds out because nobody leaves the airport between flights."

"And what if someone buys a ticket trying to go to Wyoming."

"They claim there's mechanical difficulties with the plane, cancel the flight, and offer a free ticket to another destination. Everyone takes it! No one really wants to go to Wyoming!"

"And if someone insists they want the next flight to JAC?"

"The only reason anyone would insist on going is if they want to confirm Wyoming's there. The airport calls the feds then."

Melody said, "What the heck are you two talking about?"

Ford gestured impatiently at Bill. "He insists that the state of Wyoming doesn't actually exist, by virtue of the fact that I don't happen to know anyone from there. Which is patently absurd."

Bill said cheerily, "Can't argue with the evidence, Stanford!"

"My dad's from Wyoming," Melody said. "We used to visit my grandparents there for summer break. Totally exists."

"Thank you," Ford sighed.

Bill scowled at Melody; then slapped on an artificial smile and said, "Sorry, I'm blocking you! Need something?"

Melody thought about being in Soos's room with Bill standing in the only exit, muttered, "I'll get it later," and hurried back to the stairs.

Ford smirked, crossing his arms. "Well, grandparents in Wyoming. There you have it."

"There you have it," Bill agreed. "Melody's in on the conspiracy."

Ford groaned in frustration.

####

"What are you doing?" Stan asked from the living room doorway.

Bill didn't look up from the friendship bracelet he was knotting. "I'm listening to the news." Under his breath, he muttered, "Or trying to, anyway."

Stan looked skeptically at the radio Bill had set up on the table. "That's an orchestra playing 'She'll Be Coming 'Round the Mountain.'"

"Well, the news hasn't started yet. Shh!"

Stan rolled his eyes. 

The song gently concluded, and Bill sat up straighter. The radio beeped three times. A mechanical sounding female voice began reciting: "Seventeen. Eight. Twenty-five. Twenty-one." The radio beeped again.

Bill clicked his tongue and muttered, "I could've told you that."

Stan stared at the radio. "What, is that the—?"

"Shh!"

The radio continued, "Ten. Twenty-four. Seventeen. Four." Beep.

Bill froze mid-knot and stared wide-eyed at the radio. Stan shook his head and left.

"Ten. Twelve. Twenty-five." Beep.

"No!" Morbidly delighted, Bill leaned halfway across the table toward the radio, chin in hand. "She wouldn't! Monica?!"

"Two. Eighteen. Twenty-four." Beep. "Twenty-four. Nineteen—"

"Whoa!" Bill lunged at the radio to turn the volume dial lower. "There are kids in this house! You're gonna get me in trouble."

"Bill," Ford said.

Bill started. "Hand over heart or whatever organ you prefer, I did not know they were gonna go there."

Ford flung one half of the enchanted friendship bracelets into Bill's lap. "Come on."

Bill's attention snapped from the radio to Ford. He raised his palms next to his face like the bracelet was a handkerchief covered in infectious mucous he didn't want to touch. "No thanks, I've already got one." He pointed at the bracelet he was working on.

"Put it on," Ford said impatiently. "We're leaving."

"Whoa, what? Leaving for where?"

"I've got another way to prove that Wyoming exists."

"Oh! So you think you can drag me outside any time you want just because you want to win an argument? I'm your prisoner, so I have no rights?" Bill sat back and laced his hands behind his head. "You know, you didn't come out looking very good the last time you dragged me outside against my will—and that was when you thought the safety of the town was at stake! Gonna have a hard time explaining the Wyoming thing!"

Ford squeezed his eyes shut, lips pressed flat, as Bill grinned cheekily up at him; but then he said, "Yes. You're right. You have basic human rights, of course."

Bill was sure Ford phrased it like that just to sap the joy out of his victory. "Do I get an apology?"

"No." Ford pulled back the bracelet by its string. "If you'd rather stay home and listen to the radio than find out how I can prove Wyoming exists, fine." He left the living room.

Bill considered that; then got up and followed. "Hold on, lemme get my eye patch and shoes!"

####

"So, where are we headed?" Bill sat on the car's front bench with his elbows up on the backrest. "Planning to drive us to Wyoming? If I'd known this was all it took to get you to bring down the weirdness barrier..."

"Don't count on it." Ford had to keep pushing over the elbow poking into his shoulder.

"Fine, so where are we going?"

Ford turned into the parking lot for the Royal Ragtime Theater. "Here."

####

As he pushed open the doors, Ford was saying, "But to what end would the United States government falsify Wyoming's existence?!"

"Who said the United States did it?" Bill held out their tickets, then his eye lit up as he recognized the ticket taker. "Lee, heya!"

"Hey! It's, uh... Goldie, right? Thought you were on house arrest."

"I'm on parole."

"What, so you can go on a date with the old dude?" Lee eyed Ford, who'd self-consciously clasped his hands behind his back and was avoiding eye contact.

Bill said, "You kidding? With our age difference? I'm way too old for him!" (Lee laughed.) "No, he's trying to convince me that Wyoming is real." He blinked his eye and hope it came across as a wink.

Lee shook his head. "Pfff, he still believes in Wyoming? At his age? Does he think the tooth fairy is real, too?"

"Let's find out. Hey, Stanford! Is the tooth fairy real?" Bill grinned wide, showing off his fae-gifted gold tooth.

"I'm not answering that question," Ford said. He squinted suspiciously at Lee, trying to figure out how Bill had looped him in on this ruse.

As they crossed the lobby, Bill slowed down in front of the concession stand, then sped up again when Ford didn't. "Hey! What about food?"

"Are you crazy? Tickets were twelve and a half dollars! We don't need overpriced popcorn on top of that."

"Hey, hold on. I don't like it any more than you do, but you do remember that human bodies need food, right?"

"Not at three dollars for a box of candy, they don't."

"Stanford—Ford—kid." Bill circled in front of Ford and grabbed his shoulders to stop him. "We can both agree that you've made it more difficult for me to get food than for anyone else in the house. That means you're morally obligated to help make up the difference. Right?"

Ford crossed his arms. "I... suppose."

"I had tabasco coffee for breakfast. You dragged me out of the shack before lunch. I'm on hour fifteen without food and you're about to make me sit in one spot for another two hours." Bill's grip tightened. "So howsabout you walk over to that concession stand, take out your money, and feed this wretched sack of need."

Ford stared at Bill. He rummaged through his pockets. "What do you want, nachos?"

"No way, they sell circles here. Get me chicken strips and one of those jumbo pretzels."

"Condiments?"

"Yes."

"I meant which."

"Yes."

"Fine."

Ford put the charge on Bigflipper's stolen credit card.

####

Once they reached their seats, Bill kicked his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him and flipped up his eye patch. "I admit I'm not a big fan of Westerns, but it's nice to get out of my cage for some entertainment! We should fight over stupid things more often!"

"So you admit this argument's stupid."

"You bet! Stupid that you won't admit Wyoming's fake."

The lights dimmed. A title filled the screen: "Grandpa the Kid Again 2: Ole Fogey's Revenge". Two bandanna-disguised bandits carrying sacks of money lurked in front of a sheriff's office, but scattered when the door slammed open and an old man shuffled out shaking a hunting rifle. "You whippersnappers! Get off my porch! Go on, get!" Grandpa the Kid sighed wearily, leaning on his rifle like a cane. "I thought I'd escaped these hooligans when I retired to Wyoming."

Ford radiated smugness.

####

At the end of the credits, a line on the screen read, "Filmed on location in Wyoming."

"Ha!" Ford pointed at the screen. "What do you think of that?"

"Eh, it was fine. I think they should have mentioned earlier that Grandpa and Fogey's feud was over which set of grandparents their grandson would spend Christmas with," Bill said. "Knowing Fogey is father-in-law to Grandpa's daughter really casts their high noon shootout in a different light."

"They revealed Clementine and Fogey Jr. are married in the last movie."

"Oh? Then they should've reminded the audience."

"It probably would have been a good idea," Ford admitted. "The movie's target audience might not remember plot points from the last movie, they're starting to go senile. But—that's not what I was talking about. What about all those beautiful Wyoming vistas, filmed on location?"

Unconcerned, Bill said, "Don't you know that Hollywood pays Texas to let 'em say movies filmed in the panhandle were shot in Wyoming?"

Ford thunked his head against the seat in front of him.

####

As Ford and Bill left the theater, Nate yelled across the lobby, "Hey, Goldie! I heard about your quest! What's the word, is Wyoming real?"

"Not a chance!"

"Yes!" Nate and Lee high fived. Behind the concession stand, left out of the joke but eager to play along, Thompson nodded sagely and said, "I knew it."

Ford demanded, "If Wyoming's alleged non-existence is supposed to be some big secret, how is it that everyone here apparently knows about it?"

Lee and Nate exchanged a look. Lee said, "Internet?"

Nate laughed, "Yeah, man, we're all online! Teens know everything now."

"You can't keep anything secret on the Internet," Lee said.

Ford sighed in resignation.

As Ford and Bill passed the ticket taker's stand, Nate said, "Hey Goldie, you're on parole, right? We're gonna hang out at Tambers' place on Friday, wanna come? She's got a pool."

"Do I! What time do you want me to show up—"

Holding open the exit door, Ford said, "Could you find some other time to make plans to corrupt the local youth?"

Bill shot Ford a dirty look, but said, "Okay, okay! You guys pass me the details through Red."

Lee gave him a thumbs up. "You got it."

Bill waved as he left, "Corrupt you losers later!" The door swung shut.

Ford asked, "You've been on 'parole' for two days. How is it that you already know everyone in town? I hardly know anyone."

"The trick is starting conversations with strangers."

Ford screwed up his face. He shook his head. "No, not worth it."

"Didn't think so!"

####

"You want the public to believe something? Propaganda. The best way to spread propaganda? Mass media," Bill went on—as he'd been going on for the last five minutes—keeping an amused eye on how tightly Ford gripped the steering wheel. "The government subsidizes studios that film in 'Wyoming.'"

Through gritted teeth, Ford said, "I thought you said the government isn't behind Wyoming."

"I never said that," Bill said. 

"And you said Hollywood pays Texas."

"The feds pay Hollywood to pretend they film in Wyoming; Hollywood pays states to pretend to be Wyoming. It's like governmental money laundering," Bill said. "Plus, this whole setup is useful for Hollywood! Like when movies make up a European kingdom so they can write about royalty without stepping into politics! They can say anything they want about Wyoming, and there's no one who can disprove it!"

Ford hit the breaks a little too quickly at a stop sign. He pushed up his glasses to rub his eyes, lingering at the sign too long; then settled them back in place, sighed in defeat, and pulled forward. "You really expect me to believe that Wyoming is a Hollywood fiction."

Was he beginning to cave? Bill never would've expected it. Maybe he'd overestimated Ford. "Exactly!"

"Like the backs of dollars, I suppose," Ford said.

"Sure!" Bill said. He processed what Ford had said. "What?"

"The designs on the backs of dollars," Ford repeated. "Just a Hollywood fabrication."

"Sorry, are—are you saying the backs of dollars are. Not real."

"Of course. They're all blank," Ford said, eyes never straying from the road. "Everyone knows the US Treasury pays Hollywood studios to put a made-up design on their prop dollars to mislead particularly stupid counterfeiters."

Bill stared at Ford in amazement. "Ha! You expect me to buy that?! You forget who you're talking to, I'm on the dollar!"

Patiently, Ford said, "Well obviously there's the invisible pyramid seal that you can only see under a black light, that's another anti-counterfeiting measure. But to human eyes it looks blank. Don't tell me you didn't know that."

Bill spluttered indignantly. "I—that—" He laughed. "You can't trick a trickster. I've seen trillions of dollar bills. I'm on trillions of dollar bills!"

"You've seen the fronts of trillions of dollar bills, have you ever seen the backs? People stack bills so they're facing the same way. So if your eye's on the back of a bill, it would only see the front of the bill underneath it—"

"Your logic's thinner than your desquamating skin!" He laughed a little less convincingly. "You know there's no way I've never seen the back of a dollar bill in history—"

"Really, Cipher. When would you have seen one? How many people hold the backs of dollars up to mirrors so you can look at yourself."

None Bill could recall. He chewed the inside of his cheek. "I'm sure I've seen the backs of dollar bills," he said, brows knit in agitation, desperately trying to remember a time when he was really really sure he'd seen a dollar bill from the back. He knew what they looked like, but did he remember any specific instance when he'd deliberately stopped and looked at one? It was something you took for granted, you already know what a dollar looks like, it's easy to imagine what you saw and let your mind fill in the details—but what if this malleable human brain was playing tricks on him? He'd certainly seen the backs of dollars in his peripheral vision—piles of cash just laying around—but had he paid enough attention to them to notice if the backs were blank? Did he just assume he'd seen designs on the backs?

He knew beyond any doubt that he'd seen the -$12 bill from both the back and the front—that was the only bill that showed Bill on both the back and the front—but the -$12 wasn't legal tender anymore. But he must have seen a regular one dollar bill up close at some point, or else he wouldn't have such a clear mental image of what it was supposed to look like! When had he seen the design? He'd seen the artwork in progress while the dollar was being designed—

He pounded the dashboard. "I saw the first US dollars ever printed! I watched as they rolled off the press! I was watching over the treasurer's shoulder—why are you shaking your head!"

"The backs weren't always blank," Ford said. "They first stopped printing the backs to due to ink rations during World War II."

That wasn't fair! Ford knew Bill had spent the war unsuccessfully looking for a way to exploit the chaos in Europe! Bill shot him a nasty glare—then lowered his gaze to Ford's pockets.

He did a double take. "Your wallet's full of euros and pesos?"

"You know I don't carry any currency with your face on it," Ford said; then quickly added, "even if it's only visible in black light. Stop staring through my pants."

"Oh, you planned this!" He said it even though he knew it couldn't be true; he'd seen Ford paying Stan in coins a few nights ago.

"Planned it? How could I have predicted that you of all people didn't know the backs of dollars are blank?"

Bill's face flushed. He let out a tiny scream of frustration.

####

Dipper kept getting distracted from the TV to glance at Mabel's knitting. Finally, he gave into the urge to ask, "What's that?"

"Tomorrow's sweater." Mabel was knitting a tube of red and green zigzag stripes.

"Oh," Dipper said. "Where'd you come up with that pattern?"

"It came to me in a dream!"

Dipper frowned. "Oh. Was... it a bad dream?"

"No, it was lots of fun! There were kittens and a tea party!"

Dipper's frown deepened.

Mabel's needles stilled. "Why? Do you think it looks bad?"

Dipper was reassuring her the sweater was fine when the back door swung open, and another voice drowned him out: "Just let me see the back of a dollar bill! I won't even touch it!"

They peeked into the entryway.

Ford was shutting the door, his expression stony; and Bill, face twisted in distress, was on his knees in front of him. "For ten—five seconds, that's all I ask! Please!" he begged, hands outstretched beseechingly. "I'll give you whatever you want! The two lost sequels of the Voynich trilogy, Captain Kidd's treasure map, the Ark of the Covenant's location, just name your price!"

"I want to hear you admit it!" Ford yelled. "Admit that Wyoming exists!"

Bill flipped like a switch from supplication to outrage. "Over my dead body!"

"That can be arranged!"

Dipper whispered to Mabel, "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

"Grunkle Stan said they were going to Grandpa the Kid."

Dipper slowly nodded, and then slowly shook his head. Yeah, no, that didn't help at all.

Bill was already back on his feet, "This is really petty of you, all because you can't admit that you're wrong—"

"I know Wyoming's real whether you admit it or not! You're the one begging to look at a dollar!"

"Don't you mess with me, Six-Fingers! I'll murder your whole family!"

Mabel shouted, "Hey!"

"I'll murder most of your family!"

"Cut it out!" Mabel pushed her way between them. "What's with you two?"

"Shooting Star!" Bill dropped to a knee and grabbed her arms. "Listen. Kid. I need to see a dollar bill. Just one. I'll give it back, just let me look at it."

She leaned back from him. "What? Why?"

"Because—" Bill's face twisted as he tried to find a reply that didn't make him look pathetic. "I won't embarrass your great uncle by explaining, but I need to... prove to him that he's wrong about what the back looks like."

Ford said, "Mabel, don't—"

Bill pointed up at him. "Why! Why can't she!"

Ford raised a finger. "I... don't have a good reason."

Mabel looked between them, bewildered. "Uh... yeah, sure? Does this work?" She rummaged in her skirt pocket for a crumpled bill and held it out.

"Ha!" Bill snatched the bill out of Mabel's hand, inspected the back, and crushed it in a fist to wave victoriously in the air. "Aha!" He cackled shrilly.

Dipper had no clue what was going on; but he could see Bill's delight and Ford's disappointment, and he knew it had something to do with an argument over the design on the back of the dollar; and so, struggling not to grin, he said, "Hey Mabel, is that one of the counterfeits we messed up last summer?"

It took Ford and Mabel both to restrain Bill from attacking Dipper.

####

Taking notes in his journal, Ford asked, "And what did the man at your tea party say his name was?"

"Eddy Knifehands," Mabel said. "He didn't say what 'Eddy' is short for, but I think he gives off strong 'Eduardo' energy!"

Ford paused, considering whether this "energy" had any credibility, then concluded that for an interaction in the dreamscape, it just might, and wrote down the name just in case.

Taking his own notes next to Ford, Dipper muttered, "How come Mabel gets to talk to the ghost and all I got was a nightmare?"

"Well, were you nice to him?" Mabel asked.

"I mean—!" Dipper spread his hands in exasperation. "He gave me a nightmare about you shooting me!"

"Wh—Hey! That's not cool, I wouldn't do that!"

"And followed it with a stupid pun about shooting for the stars!" Dipper pointed at his concealed birthmark.

Mabel paused. "Oh-kay, admittedly that's a little funny."

From the corner of his eye, Dipper spied a flying blur of rolled up canvas, and ducked. Ford, briefly lost in the harrowing memory of shooting his brother in the head, did not. The small canvas roll smacked the side of his face. "What the devil—!"

"We settle this like intellectuals," Bill declared. "Living room. Chess. Now. Loser admits the winner's right."

"Right about what, Wyoming or dollars?"

Bill favored Ford with a patronizing smile. "You know what, Sixer? I'm feeling generous. When you lose, I'll let you choose."

Ford's blood boiled. There was no way Bill would win—Ford was the better chess player by far, and he wasn't about to let Bill get away with cheating right in front of him like he had thirty years ago. "We play by proper chess rules. Not a single illegal move out of you."

"You're on." Bill spun on a heel and stalked from the room.

"Grunkle Ford, are you sure that's a good idea?" Dipper asked.

"It'll be fine. It's only one game." Ford stood, cracking his knuckles. He'd already learned a few weeks ago that Bill was a far from formidable chess opponent when he was trapped with a human's perception of spacetime. "If you don't mind, I'll have to borrow your notes later, Dipper. I have a demon to put back in his place."

####

Bill mopped the floor with Ford. 

In retrospect, Ford probably shouldn't have tried to judge Bill's competence at chess based on how he'd played ten minutes after a mental breakdown. He hadn't realized just how seriously he needed to take the game until he'd already lost it.

Bill sat back, coolly sipping on a can of cider. (Ford was sure he was just showing off; Bill wanted Ford to see he didn't even need to be completely sober to beat him.) "Well?" He cupped a hand behind his ear. "I'm waiting."

"Two out of three."

"Ohoho no you don't." He curled his fingers in a come-hither gesture. "You lost fair and square, Fordsy. Now give your muse his prize."

Eugh. Ford scowled as he tried to find a way to wiggle out of ceding any ground to Bill. "Fine," he said. "If you're fine with being 50% wrong."

Bill froze. "Fine with what?"

"The terms were that I only had to admit one of your positions is right. And if we're only playing one game..." He shrugged. "Which would you rather be wrong on, o muse?"

Bill's eye widened; and then his face flushed as he realized Ford was right. "Oh, you contrary little—!" He slammed back the rest of his cider, cracked open a second can, jabbed a finger at Ford, and said, "Two out of three!"

####

Between Bill's irritation and his slowly slipping sobriety, his chess playing went downhill. Ford narrowly won the second match.

"You—!" Bill slammed a fist on the table and pointed accusatorily. "Somehow you cheated, I know you did!"

Ford was unmoved. "I think you owe me an admission." He smirked lightly. "Unless you'd rather wait until we finish all three games so you can tell me you're wrong on both points at once?"

Bill had downed his second cider can as the game continued. They both knew full well that his playing wasn't about to get any better. "Pffff." Scowling, he propped his chin in one hand and twirled his king in the other.

"I'm waaaitiiing—"

"Shut up, I'm thinking." He slammed the black king down in the middle of the board. "A compromise."

"Fine. What?"

"The backs of dollars," Bill said, "are printed in Wyoming."

Ford stared at Bill. "What? How is that...?"

"If Wyoming exists, then so do the backs of dollars, since that's where they're printed," Bill said. "But if it doesn't exist, then I guess the backs of dollars can't either!"

Ford scowled at Bill. "That's the most twisted logic I've ever heard. Only a madman would consider that a compromise."

"And you're looking pretty mad, man," Bill said. "Come on, let's get this over with. I've got a poker game with a ghost tonight and I want dinner before then." Dinner?

Ford suddenly realized he'd spent the entire day arguing with Bill about whether or not Wyoming existed. If that wasn't madness... "Fine! Deal."

Bill cracked his first grin since the start of the second game. "So, what's it gonna be, Sixer? Do they both exist or do neither exist?"

He considered the question.

####

As Stan heated dinner in the microwave, he asked Ford, "Well? How'd the soup du jour turn out?"

"Wyoming doesn't exist, and neither do the backs of dollar bills."

"How'd he talk you into that?"

"I talked him into that." Ford said this with the self-satisfaction of an academic who'd gotten in the last word in a contentious battle of scholarly article publications.

Stan decided he didn't want to know.

####

(This was one of the last chapters I wrote before TBOB came out. Once it did, I was absolutely delighted that "Bill claims a state isn't real" was canon—but I'd already written this chapter about Wyoming, not Minnesota.

I decided not to change it because so many of the jokes relied on Wyoming (Stan actually was banned from Wyoming without setting foot in it; there's a major highway route from New Jersey to Oregon through Wyoming; Wyoming only has one tiny commercial airport; and Wyoming's a popular state for filming Westerns), and because "Bill claims Minnesota doesn't exist" isn't as funny as "Bill randomly claims various states don't exist whenever it's convenient to him."

Also: the numbers station does have an actual message that you can decode. There's two layers of encryption BUT both ciphers are simple and used in the show. I'll give the answer next chapter for anyone who doesn't wanna decode it.

This was one of the most fun chapters so far, so I'm looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!)

[watchmewhirl]

LIGHTS ON 💡 LIGHTS OFF 🔌

The individual artss

[watchmewhirl]

Couldn't get this stupid line out of my head. Here it is in gif form.

source Edit: FOUND YOU @mijlen

[watchmewhirl]

WAKE UP, BOOB TUBE

Some CRTs make a really loud degauss noise when turned on... which I think would be funny if Tenna did too

[watchmewhirl]

Thousands of people wishing together can't be wrong!

[watchmewhirl]

Day 182

And closeups with descriptions. What's your favorite of each section?

[watchmewhirl]

Ant Tenna Mike Anatomy: More Than Fan Theory References

~Deltarune Chapters 3+4 Spoilers~

We're taking a sideline from Tenna anatomy to talk about the Mikes, although the things I say in here may be helpful to Tenna artists anyways, so I'll put it under the tag. The Mike boss fight made me freak out over how these lil guys work. I've been going crazy about how these Mikes look and how they're little references to other stuff going on in audio equipment, so I'm going to go over that.

Before that, I'm going to just say one thing. Obviously, I know that the three Mike designs are based off of fan theories. I'm going to go over their possible inspirations in the world of microphones, though. This is really just me having fun with it.

The Names of the Mikes

This is what I found so cool. So, we have Battat, Pluey, and Jongler. Now, say those out loud, paying attention to how each one makes your mouth move. Did you notice something? Each name has incredibly different phonetics, meaning that their sounds and mouth movements vary wildly. They include sounds that you really want to make sure are good when you're doing a mic check. Or maybe, a Mike Check.

When testing sound, one of many things you have to do is to make sure all ranges of words you can say will come through clearly. You may have heard "check check 1 2 3", which is a good way to start but most people don't find it satisfactory and continue to full on sentences. If you have to go quickly, nonsense words with a variety of sounds will work great. AKA, their names. I don't think you need me to go through each name with their noises, but each name covers every type of vowel sound, and has the potential of spanning any pulmonic consonant, depending on your personal accent. I don't think Toby went through the international phonetic alphabet doing this on purpose or anything, but these are excellent names for sound checks and it's crazy.

Battat (Small Mike)

There are two different types of microphones he can be, and both are used primarily by people who need to be recorded saying lines in television. One is the dynamic microphone, and one is a lavalier microphone.

The dynamic microphone is easy to understand. You hold it, you talk into it. That's what he's holding, and it's probably what his head is supposed to be, too. However, I'm sure not everyone want to draw that tedious grid on his head. In that case, I wanted to offer the lavalier as an alternative for his dome.

The lavalier is hidden in someone's clothes, like through a button or under a shirt, and plugs into a pack that the person straps to their belt or in a back pocket to record and get power. These things are like a soft foam because of the windscreen, that black ball there, and don't tell anybody but they're very satisfying to pop in your mouth. So it makes sense, as the supposed "lead" Mike, to be two of the most recognizable microphones for people who work in television. Shows on sets and interviews will use these microphones the most.

Pluey (Cat Mike)

THIS is the one who is the reason why I wanted to make this post. Now. I know that he's a cat because of the theory he would be a cat. But everyone. GUYS. LISTEN. I need everyone to know that there is a piece of audio equipment that is literally called a deadcat.

You put the deadcat over a shotgun/boom mic to help it with wind and excess noise filtration. It makes sound better, basically, and if Pluey here is a deadcat, that makes him ANOTHER very important microphone to the broadcasting world. This thing is key to picking up sound effects and foley. If you're doing anything outside, you want a boom with a deadcat on you.

About his hands: again, very well could be a dynamic microphone, and again, that's a bit hard to draw, no? I wanted to offer another idea I had just in case you didn't want to deal with that grid. A deadcat is a type of windshield, much like what I talked about with lavaliers. When you're working in a studio as an alternative to deadcats, you may use a pop filter over a dynamic or condenser microphone. They're flat, easy to render as far as I can tell, and they match the shape of Pluey's hands, so it isn't a stretch of the imagination to say it could be a pop filter. Or maybe if sphere hands is too weird, pop filter paw pads. Just so you have some options.

Jongler (Motormouth Mike)

This one's a bit tougher since he could be a lot of types of microphones, but technically he's missing something he'd need to be them. He could be a lavalier but they don't have the texture shown when the windscreen is taken off. He could be a ribbon microphone but they have a strip of metal up the sides that he's missing. He could be a shotgun, but they don't have that silvery base. This guy is the sole reason why this post took so long, because he's such a headscratcher. Ultimately, I had to take the boxing gloves as a visual cue and decide to look for what sports commentators would use. I don't think a lot of people know about lip ribbon mics and he's obviously not that anyway, so we'll go with something more common. If he's supposed to be an allusion to boxing matches, they used ribbon microphones, which later got phased out for condenser microphones. It's not a perfect fit with his head so long, so we'll chalk that up to stylisation.

The condenser microphone is best for in a recording booth, and if we choose to believe that's what Jongler's supposed to be, that means we've covered the three biggest areas where someone would need a variety of microphones based on how controlled the environment is. A studio with a condenser is the best you can get, hopefully with lots of foam and someone on the other side of some glass controlling the sound. Then we have lavaliers and dynamic microphones on the set, where some interference could happen but it's minimal. Finally, boom and shotgun microphones are for outdoors and large sources of sound, where you have the least amount of say in what gets picked up so you're kind of hoping for the best. Pretty great variety in microphones if this was intentional, and if not...I just want more people to know that their accidental theory of Mike being a cat led to a really funny audio engineering pun to me and only me.

[watchmewhirl]

Ant Tenna Anatomy: Get Those Sources!

The second post on this I ever drafted was giving big old lists of different 90s technology that you could add to a Tenna design as things like organs, little accessories, stuff like that. I spent so much time researching ideas before I found that I couldn't decide what I thought was the best thing. So, I'm going to be sharing the websites I was looking at to help out! Build your own Tenna with these neat little catalogues below.

Also, I'm sure most of these can be found on Internet Archive, but I don't think it's helpful to say "just look at Internet Archive" and leave it at that. If it's available on another site that's what I'm linking to make it easier.

This one's probably been seen by people anyway. It's a bunch of CRTs, very straightforward. You can see what his parts look like (IN A LITERAL SENSE) because they have links to common replacement part markets. They also have a delicious list of AV equipment you could make compatible with Tenna, with each name having a short lil explanation of what it does so you aren't lost.

This is probably the biggest database I'll be linking since it also has to do with radio and there's just so much *stuff*. This is more if you're looking for equipment on the broadcasting side. However, they have this nice ability to search all your publications at once for keywords if you want a lot to sift through with some precise scanning.

Radioshack has kept a database of all of their catalogues, neatly organized by year! Little harder to find a specific thing in that, but the index is nothing to sneeze at. For example when I went to the 1997 catalogue I found adapters, VCRs, TV sets, antennas, speakers, so many cords and cleaning equipment for your tech too! RadioShack was usually relatively affordable so it's good for finding what would be in the Dreemurr's budget for accessories and such.

You want more background stuff, like cameras and lighting? This is a spot in the UK that rents equipment out for period pieces. It's got pictures for everything you'd find around then, labelled with their exact name so if you like the look of a model, you can find more!

Sony catalogs are also a great place to look, specifically for what Tenna would need to store his recordings (maybe his brain), how he would be making audio (his voice/text editor), his processors, adapters, and control units (these may be like the digestive system), and the list goes on. I'm linking the 1993 catalog because it was the one I liked looking at the most, but I'm sure there are more you can check out. Perfect internal organs options imo

Just like the Sony catalog, this is a list of stuff Panasonic had on the market in 1990. This is more along the lines of broadcasting and it's a much shorter read. I specifically added this one because it has A/V mixers and color special effect generators on pgs 20+21, which I think is how he is able to make his text look the way it does with audio stings playing on certain words: he's physically adding and editing in visual and sound effects as he's saying them.

[watchmewhirl]

Ant Tenna Anatomy: Not Short For Anthony

Hey guys the dumb thing that I said way back when chapter 3 first came out? When I was making jokes about Tenna being an ant? How he should have an ant design because an ant's abdomen is called a gaster? That was in the concept art. I'm sorry that I broke NDA for working on Deltarune definitely, I will be executed at dawn.

In all seriousness I love ants and find them fascinating. I do not have a degree in myrmecology (the study of ants) like I do with media production, but I wanted to share some of my knowledge for people who like my info for designs. Below I'll be putting some stuff I find fun that you could probably mess around with and explore. I'm putting a cut here for long post, but also because pictures of insects (I stayed mainly with anatomical diagrams but no diagrams for an ant foot closeup exist lol).

What's a gaster anyway?

This is where I originally did the joke about Tenna being an ant, and you can see it on Toby's sketch. The gaster is the abdomen on an ant, or y'know, the butt. It houses the digestive system, reproductive organs, something not very important called the heart? In some species, it also has a retractable stinger, which you could easily swing to be his plug or XLR cable for his microphone. Fire ants, for example, have stingers for defense. Other species (wood ants) could have an acidopore, which sprays formic acid as another way to protect their nest. I've been thinking about this one and I don't know, sorry, I'm sure someone can think of why the hell he would spray acid because it's not like CRT TVs use coolant. Maybe he just has battery acid in there for fun. He could also just do the normal pheromone thing, that works too. The gaster can vibrate or make little squeaks to communicate as well, so why not make it a sound system?

This would really work for emotion, too. They lift their gasters up when threatened and protecting themselves, and also to give them extra mobility if they have to flee. Scared? Defensive? Even just momentarily startled? His butt's in the air like a cat and I think that's funny. It would also be very easy to put pants on because the connecting bit between the gaster and the thorax, the petiole, is thin and flexible, so he’d just need a small hole in the back of his pants and for his belt to go over it. Anyway I spent too much time talking about this ant’s ass let’s move on

Antennae (for technology and insects!)

Ya'll wanna know the funny thing? What we get in canon is closer to what you wanted in a television, but what we see in that concept art is how ant antennae are shaped. Ants are one of few insects whose antennae have a bend in the middle, letting them better move them to pick up scents. Females have more of a bend to them, but it’s a bend nonetheless.

They use their antennae for smell, taste, sight (coming back to this later), and hearing (they also hear through their feet but I doubt Tenna has that going on). This is how they give information and study their surroundings - Tenna does this in game by receiving a signal through his antennae. It’s to be assumed his version of pheromone communication is electromagnetic signals. They also fold their antennae back if they’re in danger or on the offense to protect them.

Back to eyesight - what do you mean they see with their antennae?

Simple: their eyesight sucks so they might as well be seeing with their antennae given how much it’s used for navigation. Ants have compound eyes, so this is very straightforward for Tenna: his screen is a compound eye. This isn’t that important because most people expected his screen to be an eye anyway, but if you want more thoughts on it - cool, ants have that too. They also have these other three eyes on their forehead called ocelli which are even worse than their normal eyes. No wonder he didn’t recognize Spamton, he probably can’t see shit and there’s no way Mr. Living-In-A-Dumpster smells the same. Get him glasses-a monocle?-something to help him out he can’t seeeeeeeeeee

Limbs and claws are a must

We’re grouping together arms, legs, hands, and feet because it’d be all mixed up otherwise. You probably know that insects have six limbs, but did you know ant legs can have up to six distinct segments? The legs are why ants have such a reputation for strength, because of their powerful muscles distributed through these segments. How many segments and what they’re designed for really depends on the ant, with some cutting leaves, some burrowing underground, and some needing to bring down prey for the colony.

Some of these don’t need explanation but I do want to point out tarsal spurs. They’re used to clean antennae by grabbing the antenna and just forcing it through the gap like a toothbrush. If Tenna has these, they’re probably on his forearm, but it’d be funny to put it on his legs and make it where he can’t do the antenna cleaning without kicking his head like a dog (if your CRT’s whining, take it for a walk!). Maybe that’s why Mike does it for him.

Also, these claws are real! Ants need them to climb. They only have two toes, though he has five fingers because he looks like a cartoon. If you want to make his feet “ant accurate”, two big claws are the way to go. The bottom of it kind of looks hoofish, with a bunch of little hairs to help them feel where they’re going. They have sticky pads between their toes to cling onto surfaces that they normally shouldn’t be able to, like glass.

WAIT! Don’t some ants have wings?

Why yes, they do - at a certain life cycle. Ants that are sexually mature have wings and are called alates. The queen makes them to create a new colony if the original is successful enough. Virgin alates leave, find a new spot, mate, and eat their own wings as sustenance while they make eggs and start fresh. This means Tenna would probably only have wings in the Big Shot Era and before, since that *is* him establishing a colony in a way and he seems married? Divorced? He and Spamton did something. It’d also be great for a NEO form if you want maximum limbage.

Wouldn’t that make him a queen ant?

There are so many ant species every rule to them seems to have an exception, but the biggest idea with ants is that a female, the queen, is in charge. The female ants who are not the queen do all the work. The male ants mainly sit around waiting to be mated with. This means, with Tenna being the leader and doing all the work, he’s the queen.

Trans Tenna has some serious legs (ha) as a direct result. You could also say that he’s the queen in an older gay man way. Also just to cover something that confuses some people with ants: they don’t have a “hivemind”. The queen actually has very little influence over the colony. Ants decide for themselves what job is best suited for them, and they stay with the queen because she makes pheromones they like and reproduces, not because she makes them. Compared to Tenna trying to force people to stay via contracts, and then dying if they don’t all help him out, he really is a queen with no control. Depressing, right?

God I don’t know how to end this one and it was probably so much longer than my other posts even though almost the whole thing was done on my phone SORRY IF YOU HATE INSECTS I GET IT I’M JUST HAVING A MOMENT

[watchmewhirl]

hi^_^ I was wondering if you could share some pictures of what you mean with Tenna's latex suit? I tried looking for reference photos for a while but couldn't really find anything satisfying TwT

Sorry for taking so long with this one, fashion stuff is a bit out of my wheelhouse so I had to go do more digging than usual. I got help from a friend @kittycolours who knows more than me about what materials were time period accurate.

So about latex: it's a great material but it has its pros and cons compared to something easier to get like rubber. It's more flexible, but it tears more. It has more insulation, which makes it less breathable. And, of course, we have the fact that latex has a certain ~reputation~ which makes it hard to get good reference of it without accidentally stumbling into the NSFW side of things. There's nothing wrong with that side, obviously, it's just not what we're looking for here.

Because of that, I wanted to offer some alternatives.

Of course, the most obvious is rubber. Rubber and latex have shared a home in fashion for a while since they're both very protective and pretty durable. It also works as an alternative to latex because it has a very similar shine to what we see in Tenna. I'll post a picture of Emma Peel from the 1960s show The Avengers to show how the shine is compared to Tenna's and where we both thought rubber and/or latex would be a good fit.

The part of Tenna's outfit that led to this connection was his pants. The shine on the pants is very, very similar to the one found in rubber and latex catsuits. So, it may not be that his whole suit is latex, but rather just the pants. This would also fit how black rubber has been seen as both high fashion and sexy for a while.

In fact, there was a huge overlap between the two. We have movies like Tim Burton's Batman trilogy bringing catsuits back to the spotlight, and we have fashion designers like Gaultier and Versace debuting outfits of latex, rubber, leather, harnesses, dog collars, bared and barely concealed breasts-mostly for awareness of AIDS. I don't think I can *post* that because of obvious reasons, but their runway looks would be categorized under the amfar benefit for September 1992, and Versace's Fall/Winter Collection 1992. Both great for pictures to sift through imo

For the blazer, it's easier to not look for a latex or rubber blazer. In fact, there's something that fits his shine called polyvinyl chloride, or PVC. It's also used as cable coating if you want to push more for the TV bit. Looking up "vinyl blazer" will help, but I'm going to include some pictures that I think show the shine best.