fandom posts, neurotic ramblings, or a fun mix of both | Alise | 21 | she/her | Batfam, Stardew Valley, about a million other things | "main blog" for @fleur-a-whump
avatar: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/644129
tim: sweet dog you got there.
gordon: yes, this is our new drug-sniffing dog.
tim: still training huh?
gordon: red robin.. what do you mean?
tim: ...
tim: nevermind...
just had the violent realization that my love for dnd is rooted in escapism and no longer having to overthink the piloting of myself. i really thought it was just cool fantasy thing. nah its because I hate thinking
i still can't get over the sheer AUDACITY of iroh going to ba sing se. like did it work? yes. but ONLY because the dai li was too busy following around some bald kid looking for his dog to notice him
If people were too mean to you when you were growing up, a newborn animal will materialize inside your brain and it’s so so scared and shivering and it will stay there for years. Decades, even. And whenever you say something kind of weird but true to your heart the animal will tell you “Noo! You can’t say that! If you say that, everyone will hate you!”. The animal means well. It’s so so small and everything is so scary for them and it’s just trying to protect you. But listen to me. Listen to me. Whenever this happens, you can’t do what the animal says. You can’t. If you do, you’ll become as scared as the animal. You have to keep saying weird shit. You have to keep doing things the animal wouldn’t approve of. If you do enough things that scare the animal, maybe one day it’ll go to sleep.
so my newest DND campaign has very quickly settled into Gremlin Party mode. one character (Mohammed) is kinda sorta chaotic evil and the player is not huge into DND and mostly here for chaos (in a mostly good way); another, Fulton, is very neutral with some chaos, kinda there to watch the other party members set the world on fire, and atropa is chaotic feral gremlin with a moral compass but no one knows where that compass is pointing but her (literally a revived faun that grew up alone in the forest and has intelligence of 8 (the bare minimum to speak)); Chawmpy is a literal lizard monster/creature about as smart as atropa that we rescued from the circus; and I, Asphodel, am an exiled goddess of death, chaotic good, in love with humanity and fiercely protective of all the good bits of humanity. Mechanically, I'm a necromancer and basically party healer. all of this to say, through the being party healer and the frenzied moral backbone of the group, I have become the stressed mom of the group.
chatting with atropa's player about party dynamics:
for the love of god, write all the self-indulgent scenes you want. be utterly shameless about including every last fantasy. i know everyone likes to share quotes and quips about how miserably hard writing is, but please please try thinking of it as a joyful act where you get to be a messy human who makes art rather than some pain filled quest for icy perfection.
is this something people don't understand?? toph was clearly deeply distraught and so was aang. both are allowed to feel those feelings, especially since they're kids. and it works out fine... it ain't that hard friends
Friendly reminder that when Appa was kidnapped, Toph understood Aang and thought his feelings were valid and she wasn't mad with him
Toph in the same book: "His friend was taken, i would be mad too"
These kids are more mature and empathetic than many people in the fandom
I’ll never forget the time I was sitting with this guy, nice kid, didn’t know him well, I think we must have had a bottle of wine or some questionable hashish or something, and in response to an awkward silence I just started talking and ended up going on a long meandering rant about how ugly American robins are. I’m talking a full monologue. I had an intro and conclusion. It was pointlessly vehement. I have never been so mean or loquacious about anything in my life.
Consider my horror when this perfectly nice guy wordlessly lifted his shirt to reveal a full-torso prismacolor tattoo of his spiritual soul animal, the American robin.
Another dream comic. Had a dream where I was tied to a chair in a dark room and some hooded figures killed me after I begged for my life—but then I got caught in a time loop and so I kept trying to figure out what I could say to get them to not shoot me but they killed me no matter what I said. Started just shouting random stuff eventually.
I thought I was late to my appointment at the ADHD clinic but the ADHD clinic knows their clients well and the appointment reminded me to be here at 1:30 when my appointment was actually at 2:00.
Me: oh good I'm actually on time! :)
Me, realizing why and being overcome by the mortifying ordeal of being known: >:/