cactusthedragon

[cactusthedragon]

bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements

[cactusthedragon]

[cactusthedragon]

[cactusthedragon]

There once was a scotsman who ended up gambling with the fae, who were thrilled, as most people are too smart to agree to that. When he said he had nothing to gamble that they would want, they reassured that he does - the life force of mortals is so rare, it's delicious. When he was reluctant, the fae suggested that he wouldn't have to play his entire life all at once. He could divide it, put them into little tarts for tokens, for example. With a flourish of their hand, one of them manifested ten little berry tarts out of nowhere.

The fae laughed when the man told them that he didn't want to know how much life he had left, as it was divided into ten between the tiny little pies. And so he began playing dice. And losing. Piece by piece, he kept losing as the tittering fae kept collecting the little treats spiced with cuts of his remaining lifespan, their mouths watering. In the end, nine were divided between the fae, and the man only had one left.

But since gambling with a mortal was such a rare joy, the fae didn't want to let him quit, so one of them offered him one last bet: double or nothing - he would either lose the final piece, or win back not only his own lifespan, but gain it back double. Looking at the last token he had to play, the scotsman thought sullenly:

Cut my life into pieces, this is my last wee tart.

[cactusthedragon]

A dumb D&D thing that I do - that I have a lot of fun with - is having recurring background artisans that are extremely well known, but also, never actually in the story. Just as background-lore.

Here are some of my favorites.

First up is Brother Tucker: A long dead brewer who pursued alcohol distillation as path to enlightement. According to legend, he never actually died - he simply transformed into an ultra pure vapor and slid through the physical plane before distilling in the astral one.

According to historians from his era, there was simply no possibility of a body being recovered. The explosion that was his final work reduced a 5 story alchemical lab into a -8 story crater.

Still, some of his work lingers. His early brews are actually safe for consumption, and command top prices among collectors. His later works were enormous casks of, impossibly, 400% purity alcohol. It's stored exclusively in glass ampoules because it explodes on contact with air.

There are two subtypes.

Brother Tucker's Unreasonably Flamable Turbo Apocalypse Juice, Paranthetical, With Lemon.

Brother Tucker's Unreasonably Flamable Turbo Apocalypse Juice, Paranthetical, With Mint.

Top explodes for 5d6 fire, 5d6 force, 10d6 radiant.

Bottom explodes for 5d6 frost, 5d6 force, 10d6 necrotic.

After that, there is Chien Cane, a distinguished portrait artist who captured very vague, fuzzy, impressionist images of people next to hyperrealistic depictions of their dogs. It was rumored that there was a curse associated with all his paintings - the people depicted never lived more than a few years after the painting, while the dogs often lived unnaturally long lives - decades, even, in a few cases.

His masterpiece was a self-portrait made after he contracted lycanthropy. It contains both the fuzziness, hazy, dreamlike quality of all the people he depicted, and the realistic, sharp, crispness of the dogs. He ran into the forest after shortly afterwards, stark naked during a blizzard.

His body was never recovered, but legends speak of a dog larger than an elephant roaming between the trees. Scratching strange shapes into the trunks of trees with its massive, dull claws.

I'm actually having trouble thinking of more. I know I have another one, but he is escaping my mind, and I have already suceeded in my goal of not working on my Babylon-lore story. So. Goodnight y'all.

[cactusthedragon]

The human body's response to HRT is actually admirable in the sheer indifference. Just pure I Don't Give A Shit, I Just Fucking Work Here compliance to the new instructions. You can get testosterone injected straight into your body and it doesn't even question where that shit came from, coming back from a coffee break and just going

"Okay, everything seems to be in ord- oh fuck now what? Oh huh. Alright fine. New orders came in, cancel the menstrual cycle. Dig up the genetic balding patterns from somewhere, I don't fucking know they're buried somewhere in the dna. I'm greenlighting the growing-hair-on-your-toes thing. Yeah just cancel the ongoing maintenance processes, new orders came in so this is apparently what we're doing now."

[cactusthedragon]

[cactusthedragon]

70’s ad for Asbestos

[cactusthedragon]

the turkey swiss on rye incident

[cactusthedragon]

I grew up reading Calvin & Hobbes, and one of my favorite running jokes was the snowmen that Calvin would build.

[cactusthedragon]

[cactusthedragon]

If the Brits have one thing, it’s definitely soccer chants

[cactusthedragon]

Gosh.

Must be rough for them.

[cactusthedragon]

[cactusthedragon]

gender is a performance and im getting heckled by those old gay muppets

[cactusthedragon]

TIL The chances of us eating even one spider in our sleep throughout our lifetime is close to 0%

via reddit.com

[cactusthedragon]

A translation guide...

...for all those hotshot pilots who need to learn how to speak a conversational Mechtech in a hurry:

"Running diagnostics": taking a five-minute break.

"Checking that repairs settle": taking a ten-minute break.

"Sent the new guy to the quartermaster for the parts we need": taking a half-hour break.

"In five minutes": in ten minutes.

"In ten minutes": in half an hour.

"In half an hour": tomorrow.

"In an hour": actually, in forty-five minutes.

"Severe damage": functionally meaningless, they will say this about anything. Ignore it. It is small talk.

"Extensive damage": actually light damage but on the parts that are hard to work with, so try running a little cooler from now on.

"Moderate damage": sure, you nearly died, but shot-out cockpit glass is pretty easy to replace, stop being dramatic.

"Apprentice work": the most important parts of your 'mech are being left in the charge of the least experienced worker in the entire hangar.

"Armored up on vulnerable segments": an extra layer of tinfoil has been applied over your armor and fastened in place with hot glue.

"Extra armor stripped to save weight": your 'mech is now protected by about two sheets of corrugated metal plundered from a local hardware and landscaping store.

"Lunch break": a block of time that begins at the exact moment you return to the hangar with an engine on fire and one arm missing and ends just when they have to hand the job off to the night teams.

"Lighten up on the handling": treat this 'mech like a dainty lady of court who faints onto couches if slightly stressed and must not strain herself by strolling in the manor gardens too long.

"Push it all you like": if you bring this 'mech back in with all its limbs attached or the engine not exploded, they will assume you are denigrating the quality of their work.

"Get lunch some time at the mess": you have earned the Favor of the Mechtechs. Know you are blessed, and treat this gravely. Also, you are obliged to immediately counter-offer with getting command's permission to order in from a place in town. (Assuming it has not been blown up, the place or the town.)