#Eps Writes

[mwolf0epsilon]

Summary: There was something strange on the tracks...

Prompts: The Departure | Dusk

[And so ends my very first crack at Traintober! I hope you've all enjoyed my quickly little drabbles, and Happy Halloween!]

---

~~~🌕~~~

When he was younger and still considered a relatively modern engine, Edward used to work at any given time of the day.

From the very crack of dawn to the tail-end of the witching hour and beyond, he'd been able to withstand some of the most arduous working schedules an engine of the time could ever be bestowed with.

Something which he'd greatly prided himself in.

But his time in the limelight had certainly come and gone, and as trains grew longer and heavier it became very obvious that his class was far too outdated to keep with the turn of the century. The modern commute far too much for an engine of his rather respectable age.

That grueling schedule belonged to both Henry and Gordon now. Sometimes even James. All three of them larger, stronger, and considerably younger engines than Edward. And this was fine by him, as he greatly enjoyed being able to take things slower these days.

There was, however, the rare occasion where Edward would find himself slotted to do extra work outside of his usual schedule.

The fat controller would either entrust him with exported goods trains that went outside of his usual route (including to the mainland), or he'd request that Edward inspect the lines at certain dates when there was sure to be some wear and tear from the past couple of months of service.

The latter had been what he was set to do, on this perfectly calm yet oddly eerie full moon night...

Charlie and Sidney had approached as the sun began to set. Still a little drowsy from their four hours of rest in the breakroom, but alert and chipper enough that Edward knew their yawns and bleary-eyed looks wouldn't be much of a problem.

He could have been assigned a replacement crew to do the inspection, but the two had insisted that they take the job instead. Reassuring their boss that, if Edward could do it, so could his trusty crew.

Besides, they knew the route by heart, and they also knew the parameters of the job. It'd be easier that they just do it themselves than leave Sir Topham Hatt to scramble in search of a crew with nearly as much experience, on such short notice.

The two men drank their respective caffeinated hot beverages to help wake them up a little more, and then set off to work getting Edward ready for the trip.

They wouldn't be pulling anything today. It was just Edward, his full tender, and his crew with a trusty clipboard and flashlights in hand. They'd jot down their findings, compile a report, and then swiftly deliver it to the fat controller's office.

And then they'd all get the morning off. A fairly simple in and out job made even easier by the bright shine of the full moon's light.

A win-win scenario!

They departed at dusk. Edward calling out one last farewell whistle to the kindly guard as he left the station, and enjoying the sensation of stretching his wheels without the burden of coaches or trucks to weight him down.

It wasn't often that Edward got to enjoy the thrill of a run all around the island. His age and his responsibility over his branch line, keeping him far too busy to go on joyrides. But it also wasn't like Edward was one to want for things anyway. He loved his work, loved his crew, and above all else loved the railway he served under.

The NWR having become both a home and a family to him.

Still, self-indulgence wasn't a crime. And he greatly enjoyed indulging in some guilty-pleasures. No one was perfect, after all!

Besides, the beginning of these inspection runs were quite dull. It was best to find some enjoyment out of them before the real work began.

"So far so good chaps!" Sidney called out, as he temporarily put his shovel down to wipe at the sweat on his brow. "Smooth rails, no overgrowth, and not a single fallen branch on the line."

"The lads have been keeping this part of the island nice and tidy." Charlie responded, as he kept a keen eye out. Occasionally reaching out of the cab window to give Edward a light pat. "And the weather's been perfectly docile... Odd for this time of year, but not unwelcome. Means there's less to clean up."

"It's been calm, yes." Edward added his own thoughts without hesitation. His crew rather loved involving him, which he greatly appreciated. "Even so, I've heard that Old Bailey has been complaining about the lines down by Hawkin Lake..."

"Ah..." Charlie scratched his chin in thought. "Yeah, people are wont to complain about the Peel Godred branch... Lots of odd happenings there."

"At the very least, the ghost is friendly." Sidney quipped as he went back to shoveling. "But I have to admit, the whole area looks pretty spooky after dark..."

"Shouldn't tonight." Charlie dismissed. "With how bright the moon's shining, you could almost mistake it for daytime."

Indeed, the full moon that night was rather bright. And as Edward made his way through the various tracks and stations, he couldn't help but to be somewhat enthralled by it.

The silvery sheen it cast upon Sudrian soil making everything look dazzling and almost enchanted.

Down to the piles of fallen leaves that had been raked during the day to be collected in the morning, to the very shapes of the hills and trees that they passed by.

The clear lakes looked the most stunning of all, reflecting the gorgeous sights surrounding them.

So entertained was he in taking in the beauty of the night, and his crew so busy with their tasks, that none of them noticed a figure darting from the woods and onto the tracks. Not until Edward glanced back up, only to find a living obstruction in front of his path...

"DRIVER!" He shouted in alarm as he instinctively applied his own breaks in a panic, before his entire world grew painfully askew...

Charlie and Sidney coughed and spluttered as they crawled and then climbed out of their poor engine's overturned cab. Broken glass cut into the palms of their hands, and where their knees met the wall (now temporarily serving as the floor).

The spilled hot coals had to be stamped out quickly before they threatened to cause a fire.

It was a chore, getting out and onto solid ground. But one that they managed surprisingly well, as they were lucky enough to not be as injured as they could have been in this situation. Edward on the other hand, was in much worse condition than them...

The old engine had been completely derailed, his tender twisted in another direction with it's cargo of coal spilled out on the tracks, and the rest of him half buried in the ground by the sheer strength of the impact.

It was hard to believe.

One moment everything had been fine and dandy, and then the next they'd suffered a rather brutal and unexpected accident.

It was almost unthinkable.

Never in their years of service had this ever happened to them. But that was a thought for later... Right now, Charlie and Sidney needed to do right by their friend.

"Oh dear..." The driver climbed onto a pile of upturned soil, noting how one side of Edward's buffer beam and footplate were fully interred. The one visible buffer was bent out of shape, and the twisted railing looked almost painful.

Worse yet was his friend's face. One side scratched up and reddened, as well as covered in copious amounts of dirt. Harder to ignore were the tears welling in Edward's eyes as he came to. Moaning in clear pain.

"Oh dear... Oh you poor lad..." Charlie mournfully put a hand to the undamaged side of Edward's face, trying his very best to comfort the frightened engine. "What a disaster..."

For what it was worth, the K2 class did his best to blink away tears and look to his driver and friend's face, before whimpering sadly.

"T-There was something on the tracks..."

There had been. Otherwise Edward would not have stopped nearly as abruptly. But whatever it had been, it had vanished back into the night. Likely a deer that had come inches away from death.

"Hey... Charlie...?" Sidney called out from the other side of the wreckage. He sounded confused. "You might wanna come have a look..."

Charlie hesitated in doing so. Not wanting to leave Edward by himself right now. But, on Sidney's insistence and their engine muttering that he'd be fine for a few minutes, he climbed back down and went to meet with the fireman.

What he saw made him pause.

There, on Edward's tender, were some rather odd scratch marks. Not the same as the ones caused by the crash, but rather... Well, they looked very much like claw marks.

"What in god's name...?" The driver stared at the deep gauges in disbelief.

"The hell did we hit...?" Sidney muttered to himself as he felt just how deep the scratches were. Stopping only when Edward yelped in response to the sudden jolt of pain.

"I don't know.... I didn't see any blood." Charlie admitted. "Whatever it was, we probably just... Grazed it...?"

"These are too deep to be a graze... But... Oh, it doesn't matter." Sidney groaned, dismissing the topic completely. "We need to get help..."

"We're not too far from the next station. Just 5 more miles... Can you make the trek, or should I go?" The driver offered.

"I'll go, you're limping." Sidney pointed out. "Keep the old chap company... He's in a bad way."

"I don't blame him... Poor thing." Charlie shook his head and made his way back to the front of their fallen engine. Hoping that rescue would arrive swiftly. For Edward's sake, more than their own.

Fortunately for all parties involved, the breakdown crew came remarkably quickly.

Henry had been on his way to do his Kipper run, when news of the accident had reached him and his crew. Ted had thought fast and called in to send someone to replace Henry (likely a disgruntled James), and then they'd promptly gone to help pull Edward out of the dirt.

The older engine's state was rather poor, as Charlie had previously assessed. But the damages were thankfully repairable, and Victor's prognosis was a very positive one!

Honestly they'd all been fairly lucky. Too lucky...

~~~🌕~~~

After being repaired and put back into service, things should have gone back to normal. Except they hadn't. As the days crawled on by, Charlie and Sidney quickly began to notice a rather odd shift in their friend's demeanor.

He was a little more impatient than usual. And not just when he was left to wait on someone else's connection points.

His boiler and firebox were also unusually temperamental, being either alarmingly noisy (the sound of boiling water and steam rumbling in such a way that it almost sounded like the gurgling belly of a great big beast), or spitting out the occasional hot coal (Sidney had almost been hit on the leg more than once, where nothing of the sort had ever happened before!).

Most startling of all was how grouchy he had become overnight. Grumbling and glaring as he went about his days, with the most sour disposition anyone had ever seen in him...

Needless to say, Charlie and Sidney were more than a little concerned for their engine.

"I don't feel well..." The K2 class would whimper to himself, only to then bark out an aggressive retort if anyone asked him what it was that he was feeling. "I don't know! Leave me be!"

His crankiness had gotten so bad that he even put Cranky to shame. Something which lead to the other engines attempting to avoid him to the best of their abilities (even Thomas and the twins).

No one was fond of being yelled at after all...

"Do you think it's trauma related...?" Charlie asked Ted one day. Knowing that Henry's fireman certainly had experience dealing with short-fused engines.

"It could be... It could also be pain related." Ted offered thoughtfully, as they discussed the issue. "Before his rebuild, whenever we got Henry's fire going, he felt a lot of aches and pain that wore his patience thin... It made him snappish. But he also felt bad about snapping at others, which ultimately only made him even more irritable..."

"He's been complaining of feeling unwell..." Sidney mused. "But we've taken him to the Steamworks repeatedly... No one can find anything wrong."

"Well... Edward is a rather old engine. Even if he's in tip top shape, perhaps he has the equivalent of engine arthritis?" Ted again suggested, trying to give them a different perspective. "The accident could have exacerbated it..."

"If that's the case.... Then there's really nothing we can do." Charlie looked down at his feet miserably. "You can't cure arthritis..."

"No... But you can try to manage the pain." Ted gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Talk to the fat controller... He'll understand."

And talk to the fat controller they did. For the foreseeable future, Edward was to have a lighter workload until whatever was wrong with him could either be pinpointed or (if they were lucky), sorted itself out.

Needless to say, the old engine wasn't happy about being confined to the sheds. Giving his crew the silent treatment for 'going behind his back', or so he muttered to himself whenever he thought they were out of earshot.

Charlie and Sidney were crushed by this, of course, but still did their very best to be there for Edward. And their efforts paid off.

With more rest, Edward's mood did improve slightly. And with continued patience and affection, he forgave both of them for pulling him from his usual services.

"I'm sorry I've been such a nuisance..." The old engine apologized sadly. "I just... Haven't been feeling like myself..."

"It's ok... You went through something awful old boy." Charlie very gently patted the bridge of his friend's nose. "We don't blame you for feeling a little off after that."

"And besides, we're made of tougher stuffs..." Sidney beamed happily, chipper as usual. "Now rest up. We're pulling a goods train tonight! Gonna be smooth rails all throughout, and another pretty moonlit night to boot!"

"I'll try to be on my best behavior, I promise." Edward smiled tiredly as he let himself rest in his berth. Tonight would be a good night.

Or so he thought...

The morning and afternoon came and went. Engines and crews alike going about their business and then settling in after they'd completed their shifts.

Charlie and Sidney, fully rested and ready for their late night train, made their way towards the lonely shed where they'd left their dear friend to rest peacefully without any intrusion.

Only to find it empty...

Flabbergasted, they both immateriality went to the stationmaster to ask if a replacement crew had been called in to take Edward instead.

Only to be met with even more bewilderment.

"No one's wanted to work with Edward as of late, other than the two of you that is..." The stationmaster explained. "As a matter of fact, no one's gone near his shed for fear of being yelled at..."

"But... But he's gone!" Charlie insisted, pointing to the very obviously empty shed. "He's not there!"

"....That can't be right... No one took him, I swear..." The man peered into the shed himself and stared in disbelief. "The hell...?"

"Do you mean to tell us someone stole our engine right under your nose?!" Sidney glared angrily.

"I'm telling you two! No one went near the sheds all day or night! I would have seen!" The stationmaster insisted. Clearly taking offense to Sidney's accusations.

"So what, Edward just rolled off on his own? He'd never do such a thing!" Sidney retorted, crossing his arms impatiently as he regarded the other man with suspicion.

"Oh sod off Sidney... I'm gonna go make a call to see if anyone's spotted him. I'm getting to the bottom of this..." The stationmaster snapped back before angrily stomping off into his office to do just that.

Leaving the two alone to stare at the impossibly empty shed. How in the world had an engine just seemingly vanished without anyone noticing?!

"I swear to god..." Sidney kicked a pebble and made his way towards the empty berth. Hoping by some miracle that there was any sort of clue as to what had happened to their engine.

"Nothing we can do about it... I mean... Someone would have noticed the old boy going around..." Charlie tried to placate his friend's clear irritation. "He's not exactly small."

"Yet, somehow, someone vanished him out of his shed without being noticed... I mean. It's not like Edward would have just sprouted legs and--" The fireman paused.

"And...?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.

Sidney remained quiet. He seemed to blink a few times while keeping his gaze glued to the floor, then looked to Charlie with absolute astonishment in his eye. Then, without so much as a word, he pointed down to the ground.

On the unpaved soil next to where the rails met the track, was a rather large imprint in the mud. An imprint that looked vaguely like a dog's paw print. Only, neither men had ever seen a dog quite as large enough to leave prints of such a size...

It looked like it could have easily dwarfed a bear.

"....What...What is this...?" Charlie stared at the impossible sized paw print, noting the presence of others that surely enough lead towards the outskirts of the station. Into the woods.

"...I have no clue... But we're about to find out." Sidney proclaimed, before going into the nearest utility shed to get a flashlight.

"I... Don't think that's such a good idea..." Charlie pointed out.

"Don't be daft Charlie." Sidney grumbled. "This is clearly some stupid kids playing a silly prank... Honestly..."

"I mean... It could be. But..."

"Charlie. Are you really gonna pretend whatever is going on in that superstitious mind of yours is anything but silly?" The fireman raised an eyebrow. He knew exactly what Charlie was thinking, and even the driver himself had to admit it was silly to think such things. But still... Something felt off about this situation.

"I suppose..."

"Then it's settled. We're getting our engine back."

The two men went into the woods, a single flashlight between them, following the tracks that could only have been faked by some punk kids with nothing better to do than bother the railway.

The large dog-like prints almost seemed like they went on forever. Taking them deeper and deeper into the woods, where both felt incredibly exposed and yet so utterly alone...

If something were to happen to them, no one would be around to help.

"I think we should go back..." Charlie murmured uneasily, feeling more and more unsettled as they kept following the tracks.

"Not until we get Edward back and show those brats what for..."

"Sid, I really don't think a bunch of kids would go quite this far with a prank..." Charlie insisted, trying to call his friend to reason.

"Kids get up to elaborate mischief if they think they're being clever and funny. Well, guess what you punks! This is neither!" Sidney hollered into the woods, waving his flashlight about.

"Sidney!" Charlie barked, before shushing his friend.

"Oh come off it Charlie! There's nothing to be afraid of! There's no big animals on Sodor that would pose any--"

A loud crack, akin to a snapping twig but larger, startled the two men out of their conversation. Instinctively, they turned towards the source of the noise. The fireman quickly bringing his arm up to illuminate it... Only to be met with something out of a bad horror movie.

"S-s-s-Sidney!"

"Oh my god..."

The stench of sulfur and the low growl of a monster, chilled the two to their very core, before raw instinct drove them to flee. A horrifying whistle that sounded more like a distorted howl, fallowing them to the very edge of the woods where they hoped they'd find refuge from the beast.

Edward had been right. There had been something strange in the tracks that full moon night...

And it had done something unspeakable to him.

[leo-artista]

Felt a bit nostalgic

[teliphone]

Tickles, Doesn't it?

Summary: You get partnered with Rio Vidal to work on the newest case. You can't understand her and it feels like she doesn't like you. In a short amount of time, you feel like you've impressed her and she finds you interesting to mess with.

Warning(s): Smut, Death (not you), Blood, Overstimulation, Fingering, Oral, Sub!FemReader

Word Count: 5.6k

-

Rio Vidal slowly walks over with one hand in her black pants. Her other hand holds onto the new case files. She stops in front of your desk and drops the heavy file before you. You flinch back a little before looking up. Her face is stern as she crosses her arms across her chest. This move causes her chest to peek out from her slightly unbuttoned white dress shirt. She raises her eyebrows. 

“These are the new documents on the case the chief assigned you. This will be the first time you’re partners with me. Don't screw things up for me, alright?” She warns. You bite your tongue from speaking back. You never understood why she has always been so cold to you. You were no longer a rookie in the department nor did you slack at your job. 

Your eyes lower from her face to the file. Your fingers touch the edges of the papers. Before you could flip the page, you see a shadow cast over the paper. You tilt your head up to see her body towering above you. Her hands firmly grab the edge of the desk. She leans her head down to stare deep into your eyes. You nervously gulp from the closeness. You can see her black bra peeking above her open shirt. 

“You’re not going to respond to me?” She asks slowly. Your breathing halts a little. You nervously glance around her face, taking this opportunity to take in her features. Her eyes are brown with a slight hint of dark eye circles underneath. Her eyeliner and mascara are on the darker side. Her lip color is red matte. She is irritatingly attractive. You didn’t know you could be attracted to an older woman til you set eyes on her. 

“About what?” You question. Her tongue sticks out against the inside skin of her mouth in frustration. She narrows her eyes at you one last time before pushing herself off the table. She tugs her black suit to straighten herself. 

“I’ll be in my office if you have any questions,” She moves on. She doesn’t wait for you to respond and starts walking away. You watch her slightly swing her hips with each step. You let out a soft groan once she’s out of view. You stare back down at the stacks of papers. It is going to take a while to catch up on this case. 

-

There is a meeting with some officers at the station. You were fortunate to be sitting alongside the other top detectives and chiefs… which includes Rio Vidal. You nervously bit your bottom lip as you stare at her. She sits across the table with an emotionless expression. She slumps back into the seat. Her fingertips playfully drum against the seat handle. Her eyes examine the area til she lands on you. You snap your head away and self cautiously straighten your back. You sneak a peek at her again to confirm she’s still staring at you. The corner of her lips curve into a smile and you feel your heart hammer against your chest. You could not understand what her facial expression meant. The meeting continues as usual, except for the fact you keep making eye contact with her. You force yourself to stop looking over and glued your attention to the chief. Rio Vidal notices your behavior change and brings the back of her hand to cover her lips. She sucks in a deep breath and gently releases. Once the meeting ends you quickly dart towards the door. You rush to your seat to avoid any conversations. You pick up a highlighter and start circling important details on your case paper. A shadow casts over the papers again and you grip the highlighter. 

“What do you want?” You sigh as you look up at the culprit. Rio Vidal smiles widely as she dares to lean closer to your face. Her scent becomes stronger. 

“Put on your jacket,” She orders. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. 

“Wait why…” You drift off as she starts to walk away. You sigh in frustration but don’t waste time to follow orders. You toss the highlighter aimlessly on your desk and get up from your seat. You swing your trench coat on and stumble on your footing to catch up with her. She walks out of the police station and stares at the sunset. She can feel the cold wind creeping against her exposed skin. She hears your footsteps behind her and starts walking to her car. 

“Where are we going?” You call out. 

“Crime scene,” She blankly states. You widen your eyes in realization. This will be the first search with her. You open the passenger side and quietly sit. You watch her turn on the engine and shift the gear to reverse. Suddenly she places a hand behind the head of your seat and you stiffen. She turns her body to look behind her car as she reverses. You awkwardly stare at the window to limit yourself from gawking at her. She sneaks a glimpse at your figure and watches how your throat lumps with each shallow. She returns her hands to the stirring wheel.

The whole car ride was silent. There was not much to talk about. Rio Vidal keeps to herself and you have a suspicion that she dislikes you. As you stare at the window you notice the sky getting dark. A few minutes later you see raindrops roll down on the window. You clench the jacket closer to your body. In your head, you thank her for telling you to wear a jacket. About twenty minutes later you see her pull up to a street. She gets out of the car without a word and you follow behind. 

The flashing lights of red and blue reflect off the wet cement walls beside you as you walk closer to the crime scene. You glance to your right and see other police officers blocking curious pedestrians from entering to take a peek. Returning your face to the front, you note how dark and cold the atmosphere is. You let out a small smile. 

“Of course… How classic it is for someone to kill someone in this type of weather,” You whisper to yourself. Rio Vidal quickly glances at you with an unreadable look before she walks away. You step under the crime scene tape while holding onto your long jacket. Once away from the larger public view, you can see the scene more clearly. You walk closer til in front of you lay a woman so perfectly in the middle. Almost as if someone placed her there to get attention.

Her body is stiff and gray. Her clothes were dirty, but still fully on her. You lean down to stare at her face. Her black hair is neatly brushed and her bangs are tucked behind her ears. You stare at her face and notice a shade of red lipstick on her. Following her features up, you fix your eyes on the dried run-down mascara on her cheeks. With closer inspection, you could tell someone tried cleaning the mascara off. Her dull yet shocked eyes stare behind you.

Suddenly a wave of chills runs down your body. You are used to looking at dead bodies due to the number of crime scenes you have investigated, but this one feels different… it’s almost as if someone prepared this like a presentation. You feel a pressure on your hip which causes you to jerk in fright. Rio Vidal has just returned from receiving information from other officers. She has a sick smile on her face, proud that she has successfully frightened you. She returns her slender fingers to her side. She tilts her head to glance at the dead body next to you. You hear her let out a soft hum. You bite your bottom lip, deep in thought. Something about how the dead body is laid out does not feel right. 

“What is it?” She asks. You jerk your face up to see her staring at you. You tilt your head to the side to look at the ground. You feel a gush of wind blow. 

“Doesn’t this case feel a little different to you?” You ask. She turns her body slightly so that her attention can be fully on you. She stares at you with an unexplainable look. You nervously rub your fingers. You have never told her this before, but you look up to her. You feel like you need to impress her. You hope this paranoid mind of yours doesn’t throw her off.

“How so?” She asks. You nick your nail against your skin. You suck in a deep breath. You can feel her waiting for you to explain yourself. You gather your thoughts to make sure you don’t sound too insane. 

“When I looked at the body I couldn’t help but notice that… someone presented her beautifully,” You nervously explain. You gulp at yourself for saying the word beautiful. Why did you credit the murder? You glance up to see her face is emotionless. She probably thinks you’re insane for saying that. 

“W-what I mean is that I noticed her hair was neatly brushed. She also had red lipstick on her. It wasn’t smeared or anything as if the murderer placed it on her after she died. They wanted her to look presentable and that is what I don’t understand,” You finish your thoughts. You blush in embarrassment. You didn’t mean to ramble. You hear her softly giggle and you snap your neck at her. Her brown eyes have a tint of glee. 

“I’m glad you noticed,” She whispers. You blink in confusion. 

“What?” You blurt. She leans back and lets out a throaty chuckle. 

“I noticed it too,” She explains. Your shoulders drop in a sigh. You think you have scored a point on her non-existent board. She gives you a gentle pat on the shoulders. The first time she has ever touched you. She keeps her hand lingering on your shoulder for a little bit before sliding her hand away. 

“Good job analyzing. Keep taking notes. I’ll discuss a few more questions with the police and we’ll discuss them later,” She explains before walking off. You let out a shaky breath. Joy boosts in your veins from receiving a compliment from her. Not wanting to waste more time, you pull out your small notepad and start jotting down notes as ordered. 

-

“Where do you live? We can discuss it there,” Rio Vidal suggests as she starts the engine. She takes out her phone and presses onto the GPS app. You silently type in your address without questioning. She smiles in satisfaction and shifts the gear to drive. You play with your fingers to entertain yourself in the silence. The car ride to your house was faster than you expected. She shuts the engine off and waits for you to make the first move. You unbuckle your seat belt and open the car door to get out. She copies and stares at your house for a moment. Her head tilts a little as she analyzes each detail. You find her staring at your window a little longer. 

“Nice place,” She compliments as she walks towards you. You take out your keys to unlock the front door. You can feel her presence close behind you and you feel goosebumps suddenly rise on your arms. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You lift your arm to your eyes to examine the hairs sticking up. 

“...Are we just going to stand out here?” She speaks up with a dry chuckle. You jerk your arm down with an embarrassing blush appearing on your cheeks. You push the front door open and flick on the light switch. You place your jacket on the coat racket and hurry to clean the living room area. You weren’t expecting guests. She silently watches you gather all the paperwork from multiple cases into a neat pile. You grab the empty water bottles lying around to toss them in the trash. You have been working hard and overtime which results in a lack of self-care. You brush your hair away from your forehead and let out a deep breath. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company,” You shyly apologize. She smiles and slowly nods her head to express that she doesn’t mind. Her curious eyes glance around your house as if she is mentally taking note of everything. She walks over to your single-person couch and plops herself on it. She lets out a throaty sigh and relaxes her body. 

“Want a drink?” You offer. She peers at you beneath her long lashes. She ponders a little, narrowing her eyes in thought. She tilts her head slightly with a small smile. 

“You have beer?” She asks. You walk over to your fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. You hand her one which she happily accepted. You take a seat on your other couch, opposite side of her. Her eyes never leave you as she takes a big swing of the liquid. Her jaw clenches as she shallows. She leans back onto the seat and crosses her legs. You take a small sip and gently place it back onto the table. You pull the notebook out from your pocket. You flip through the pages til you find the most recent one. 

“I found a few more interesting things on the victims' skin-”

“I didn’t come here just to talk about the case,” She cuts you off. Your tongue stops moving as if she had cut it off. You tilt your head in confusion. You want to ask her what else is she here for, but no words come out. She notices your inner struggle and waves the beer bottle. She feels slightly bad.

“But yes, what were you saying?” She averts the topic back on track. She takes another gulp of the beer. You watch a single drop slip from her lips and roll down her throat. You silently dry shallow. She takes the back of her hand to wipe it. She continues to listen to your new findings without disrupting you. You mention how you notice a slight green color around the victim's wrist. By the time you were done speaking, she had finished half the bottle. You place the notebook down and wait for her to speak. She leans forward and rests her elbows on her knee. Her face is stern with deeper meaning. 

“Can I ask you something?” She challenges. 

“Yeah,” You answer almost like a whisper. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re being watched?” She tests. You immediately feel a chill run down your spine. You blink nervously, darting your eyes to the window. Why is she asking this? It makes you scared without reason. 

“What do you mean,” You hesitate. She brings the back of her hand to cover her smile. She lets out a chuckle. She focuses on your eyes and notices a hint of fear. She fake coughs as she brushes her pants. She gets up from the couch and turns to head to the door. You quickly get up to follow her, anxiously looking over your shoulder. She catches you in the act and couldn’t help but laugh again. She brings her fingers to touch the tips of your hair. She twirls the strand between the thumb and pointer finger. 

“You’ll begin understanding what the victims truly feel,” She explains. She lets go of your hair and opens the door herself. She doesn’t turn to face you as she waves goodbye. 

“Lock your doors,” She chirps. You watch her spin her keychains around her finger. She enters her car and you watch til she is down the street. You slam the door shut and immediately lock the door. You place your palm against the door and take a deep breath. Now that she is gone, your house is more eerie and quiet. You shake the chills from your body and turn around. You pick up the glass bottles and notice her red lipstick mark on the rim. You lift the rim closer to your eyes to examine it. Matte red. You let out a small smile as you thought about how well the color matched her. Your smile starts to drop when you remember what she said:

‘Do you ever feel like you’re being watched?’ her voice replayed in your mind. You try to understand the deeper meaning. You assume that she was talking about tactics. You’ve heard multiple times that a good detective understands the mindset of the murderer or victim. 

-

It’s the next day and you walk into the kitchen to grab a water bottle. As you tilt your head back to drink, you feel a dark presence behind you. It feels like it’s breathing down your neck. You jerk your head behind only to see nothing. You place the bottle down and move your hand to your forehead. 

“I must be paranoid,” You sigh to yourself. As you lift the bottle to your lips again you hear a slight creek. You pause and the creek happens again. It sounds like a footstep. Fear and anxiety buzz in your mind. Your blood begins to pump too loud. You quietly reach over to grab a knife. You grip the handle. With alert eyes and adrenaline, you take a step towards the sound. You inspect the area but find nothing suspicious. You lower the knife. You tilt your head in confusion. You could’ve sworn you heard someone or something here. You turn your body and collide into something. The impact caused the knife to slip from your hands and clatter onto the ground. You let out a scream and nearly fall. Rio Vidal smiles brightly from seeing your reaction. Her hair is fully down and longer than you expected. She wears a normal black sweater. You hold yourself onto the wall and place a hand on your heart. 

“Rio!? What- how did you get in here?!” You gasp, heart still pounding. She jerks her head towards the door and shrugs. 

“Doors unlock,” She casually states. You turn your head to the lock to confirm it was unlocked. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You remembered you locked the doors last night… how did it…

“I just wanted to come by and say hi. I missed you,” She teases. There was no hint of truth in her statement. You gently laugh in disbelief. She takes out a note from her pocket and hands it over to you. 

“I did some digging last night. This autopsy case number from a few months ago is similar to the body yesterday. Look into it,” She explains. You examine the neatly written number on the note. 

“…Okay thank you,” You respond. She smiles and nods her head. She doesn’t waste another second. 

“I’ll see you soon,” She turns her body and waves her hands without looking back again. She stops at the door and a smirk appears on her lips. 

“Next time you should actually use the knife,” She chuckles. You hear the door close beside you. You stare at the knife lying on the ground. You feel embarrassed at how helpless you quickly became. If it were someone else you would’ve been done for. 

-

It’s later in the night and the moon shines brightly in the sky. You sit on the couch with the laptop on the coffee table. You type the case number onto the database and watch the screen load up the autopsy. You let out a small gasp. The pictures of the body closely resembled the one yesterday. Freshly red lipstick and combed hair. Your eyes notice something around the victim's wrist. You zoom the picture closer. The wrist has a slight green mark. 

You hear the floors creak again, but this time it’s above you. Your eyes dart from the screen into the dark space. The creaking continues in small time measures. You lower the laptop screen when you realize someone is upstairs. You quickly get up and rush into the kitchen to grab a knife. You grip the handle more firmly, not letting it drop this time. You quietly reach the staircase. With each step, your heart thumps louder. You finally make it closer to the sound. The soft shuffle sounds are coming from your room. Your hand reaches the handle, but you pause. You take a deep breath and silently pray. 

You shove the doors open and the figure inside your room freezes in shock. Your eyes widen at the body. You can tell it’s a woman, judging by the curves exposed by the tight black shirt and pants. Her hair is dark and long. You could not tell who it was because she had a mask that only exposed her eyes. The woman lunges towards you. You try swinging your knife, but she grabs your wrist and pins you against the hallway wall. She tilts her head to examine you. Her dark cold eyes piercing yours. You struggled against her, trying to push against her strength, but it was no use. You jerk your head forward to head bump her. She grunts in pain and lets go of your wrist to hold her forehead. You give her stomach a strong kick. She lets out a sharp yelp and falls. You rush to escape, but she clings onto your ankle making you trip and fall. The knife falls out of your grip and clatters onto the ground. You try crawling your way to the knife, but the woman has already run to grab it. You lay helplessly, staring up at her. She walks over til she is above you. She kneels her thighs around your stomach.  She lets out a teasing laugh before she tries jabbing the knife into your neck. You quickly grab onto the sharp blade and wince in pain. Your blood starts pooling at the tip of the knife. It drips onto your face. 

“Have you ever felt this pain?” She purrs. You grunt as she presses the edge deeper. She leans in to observe you. She watches how your jaws clench tightly. A few whimpers would escape your mouth. Your eyes begin to form tears. 

“It kinda tickles doesn’t it?” She giggles. You feel your stomach turn at her taunts. You let go of the knife and clench your hands around her throat. She lets out an airy gasp. She wraps her fingers around your wrist and stares into your eyes. Her eyes seem to sparkle with delight. Strangely, she isn’t trying to pull your hands away. She hums and buckles her hips slightly against you. With a quick move, you pull the mask down to reveal the woman’s face. Your eyes widen and you feel your blood run cold. 

Rio Vidal. 

She smiles brightly with her teeth showing. You couldn’t believe it was her. Your grip around her neck loosens. She swiftly takes your wrist in one hand and pins it above your head. She places the tip of the knife against the skin of your collar. 

“Why are you doing this?” You gasp. She shakes her head revealing she won’t tell. The tip of the knife digs deeper into your skin. You feel a heavy drip of blood run down your chest. She lets out a low chuckle. She leans her head towards you and you shut your eyes in fear. Suddenly you feel a warm wet muscle touch your skin. She drags her tongue from the top of your chest to the cut. Your blood is evident on her tongue. She softly moans and you feel your stomach flutter. She feels your body struggle beneath her. She gently takes your cut palm to her lips. You try jerking your hands away, but she tightens the grip. 

“Stop squirming. Let me heal you,” She whispers. Something in her tone is lance with concern. You listen to her and halt your movement. She sticks out her tongue and slowly tails her warm tip along the deep cut. Your face scrunches in pain and your thighs clench in arousal. Her gaze never leaves your eyes. Your cheeks turn red as you watch her. She let go of your hands and you immediately went to look at it. The cut was healed. You could only see the mix of your blood and her saliva glistening against your skin. You’re in disbelief.

“H-How?” You breathe out. She licks her lips slowly as if she didn’t want to waste a single drop. Her fingernails find themselves scratching your jaw slightly. 

“Are you going to run?” She asks. You immediately shake your head no, but in your head, you plan to use this as an escape. She gently taps your cheeks and smiles. 

“Good,” She purrs. She gets up from your stomach and checks her body for bruises. She lifts her shirt to inspect her stomach. You had kicked her hard earlier. While she is distracted, you quickly run into your room. You rush to your nightstand and open the drawer that has your officer pistol. Your heart sinks. It’s not there. 

“Looking for this?” She chirps as she playfully shakes the pistol in the air. Her other hand rubs her stomach to ease the bruising pain. You put your shaking hands up as surrender. You thought she was going to shoot you, but she ended up sliding the gun down the long hallway. She has a different idea. You try to dart past her, but she grabs your waist and shoves you onto the bed. You cry out in frustration and try clawing at her back. She pins you down but you keep thrashing your body. Your thighs grind against her and she bites her lip. 

“You lied,” She hisses. She grabs your face harshly, no longer gentle. She forces you to keep still. Your tears roll down your cheeks. She uses her thumb to rub it. 

“Let me go,” You beg. 

“Not when you look this good,” She smirks. She pauses to stare at your pitiful crying face. She seems to be in awe. She finds herself leaning down to kiss your wet cheeks. Slowly, she kisses her way to your lips. Her lips are soft and needy. Your heart hammers loudly against your chest. You want to push her away, but her lips cloud your mind. She pulls away to test you. To see if you would shove her away. Her heart skips a beat when she finds you submissively lying still. Your eyes glare back at her, but she knows better. She returns her lips to yours and moves it slowly. You hear her let out a low moan. Her tongue rubs against your lower lip and you clench your thighs. You refuse to kiss her back.

“I know you want to,” She whispers in between kisses. Her thumb continues to gently rub your cheeks. She lets out another soft hum. You open your mouth to speak and she quickly slips her tongue in. 

“I- I hate you,” You grunt. Your toes curl each time her tongue brushes in. She ignores you and continues kissing. You shut your eyes tightly. Her slow harsh moving lips turns you on more than you expected. 

“Kiss me,” She begs. The pleading sound coming from her switches something in your head. You kiss her back. Your wet lips slide easily against hers. She lets out a dirty chuckle. 

“Mm there you go,” She breathes. She slides her hands down your shirt til she reaches the edge. Her fingers sneak up to grope your chest. She grips harshly like a touch-starve woman. You let out a small grunt and arch your body against her. She pinches your nub hard. You accidentally bite onto her lips in reaction. She moans and buckles her core against you. She pulls away from the kiss and rubs your swollen lips with her fingers. 

“Let me eat you,” She expresses. You blush and turn your head to the side to avoid her stare. Her other hand finds the loop of your pants. She gives it a small tug as she leans her mouth to your ears. She breathes and licks the shell of your ears. You twitch under her touch. 

“I want to taste you,” She sighs. She moves your head to face her. She sticks out her long tongue and flicks up. 

“You’re so perverted,” You blush. She chuckles and attempts to tug your pants down. From the position you lay, it makes it hard for her to pull it. Your hands reach down to unbutton and zip down. Her hungry eyes watch your fingers move fast. You lift yourself slightly to pull your pants along with your panties down. It drops at the edge of your bed. She runs her nails along your lower stomach with a cocky smile. You feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

She begins lowering herself between your legs. She spreads your thighs apart and lets out a dirty gasp. She glances up at you between her lashes. She drags her finger along your slit and you jerk your legs together when she gets close to the clit. She clicks her tongue in disapproval and forces your legs apart which causes you to grunt. Without warning she drags her tongue along your dripping cunt. She closes her eyes to process how you taste. She lets out a hum of approval. She continues to give you short and small licks. She would sometimes lick your clit, but not enough to satisfy you. You push your head against the pillow, feeling impatient. You bring one hand down to touch the top of her messy dark head. Your fingers grip onto her hair and you shamelessly shove her deeper into your cunt. She grinds her fingers into your thighs. 

“Fucken hurry,” You cuss out. She smiles happily at your aggressiveness. You chase your core against her tongue to please yourself. She allows you to take control, even if your grip on her hair starts to hurt. 

“Feels good doesn't it?” She smirks. You bite your lips and nod your head. Your shirt starts to feel stuffy because of how hot you’re becoming. She pushes her hand against your thighs to spread yourself wider. She starts to lick harshly and sucks your clit. You suck in a sharp moan. Your wetness mixes in with her saliva. Her strong tongue doesn't stop flicking against your clit. You gasp and roll your eyes in pleasure. You feel your lower stomach beginning to build up for an orgasm. Your leg twitches each time she decides to suck. 

“You’re so good,” You praise. She smiles and runs her tongue against your slit again. Your hands gripping her head start to loosen. She glances up to see you enjoying yourself. Your other hand is busy groping your chest. She gives your clit a strong suck. This causes you to let out a loud moan and grip her head harder. She repeats the act and watches how your body arches up. Your other hand reaches down to join the other. You roll your cunt against her mouth while clenching both hands on her head. More cusses and moans spill from your lips. She can tell you are nearly close to reaching your high. Your body begins to shake so much that she has to push your thighs down. 

“I’m close,” You gasps. She closes her eyes to focus on licking and sucking your clit. With a few more movements from her tongue, you reach your orgasm with an embarrassingly loud cry. Your body twitches and you gasp for air. You pat her head to signal her to stop, but she ignores it and continues sucking. 

“W-wait!” You moan, feeling overstimulated. You let go of her hair to clench onto the bedsheets. She brings her fingers to your core and plunges in her middle finger. The finger easily slides in and out with your silky juice. You let out a whine. She lifts her mouth from your core. You see her lips glistening. 

“Give me another one,” She demands. You shake your sweaty head, chest moving up and down. You can feel tears building up and she smiles. Just what she wanted. She adds another finger into your core. You tilt your head back against the pillow to cry out. The stretch of her fingers feels so good. 

“I want to see you cry,” She darkly chuckles. She feels your warm hole welcome her fingers in so well. She decides to curl her fingers to press into your gummy walls. You moan loudly and feel tears running down your cheeks. She returns her tongue to your clit and sucks. As her fingers continue to abuse your walls, her mouth sucks. You are panting and moaning. You don’t even understand what is coming out of your mouth. Your orgasm is coming faster than the previous one. Your body jerks feverishly. Your hair sticks against your sweaty forehead and neck. Her long fingers increase in speed. She doesn’t care how hard she is going in you. You feel yourself let out a loud squeal as you reach another high. She feels wetness run down her knuckles and she finally slows down her fingers and tongue. She slips her fingers out and watches you catch your breath. She wipes her wet mouth with the back of her hands. She leans foreward to kiss you a kiss on the cheek. 

“My heart beats for you,” She whispers at your state of vulnerability. You gaze at her with tired eyes. She watches you with curiosity as you take her wet fingers to your mouth. You lick along her palm to her long fingers that were in you. Her mouth slightly opens as she gasps. Her eyes darken in pleasure and she simply smiles. Your eyes notice an unusual green color on your wrist.

[thingsmethinks]

Saying "Gonna be Nobody's Soldier" instead of "I won't be anybody's soldier" because he won't be a puppet to an oppressive regime but that doesn't mean he will stop fighting for Nobodies, one who war is crushing and killing. Oh my fucking god, what if I ate my hand Andrew

[vakariaan]

Clois +

[troublegoblin]

charles rowland every time edwin opens his mouth:

[pussyfever23]

white lotus is insanely good at showing capitalism and the state of western society as a prison that it is. the entire point of this ep was i think that so many characters got so close to breaking out of the cycle only to end up stepping back into the cage of it, locking it after themselves, and willingly throwing out the key.

piper, who like so many young people saw the injustice of the world and felt helpless in the face of it. wanted to give up her privilege and get away from her family who represented everything she hated only to let those values she resented pull her back in. the desire for comfort, the privilege of watching the world end from your comfortable seat at the top, the practiced line of “if we don’t enjoy what we have it’s a waste”. that was her breaking point and she will never go back. 30 years and she’ll be undistinguishable from her mother.

gaitok, whose story mirrors piper’s so closely in how he rejects his entire worldview because barely anyone is strong enough to uphold it in a system that will break you if you try to oppose it. to have once felt so helpless in the face of evil and to side with it since you can’t defeat it. to be pushed to find the violence within yourself when all you ever wanted was to treat the world kindly.

belinda, whose formative experience was being wronged by a millionaire, to have money and convenience prioritized over her, to experience the fickleness and complete lack of backbone of someone who has enough money to afford to have no morals. and to give up everything she believed in, all qualms about greg’s blood money, all dreams grounded in the reality of mortals to advance up to the realm of the wealthy. and to repeat what was done to her with the exact same carelessness and fickleness. to be so swept up in money that pornchai immediately becomes just inherently lesser to her.

rick, who had plans to kill the man who murdered his father and didn’t go through with them only to see that man again and get enraged by his words, again, and still, choose to control himself. he did not believe in therapy for a second at the beginning but, when everyone thinks he gets up from the table to give into murderous impulses, he actually seeks out mental help. only to be denied. to be denied when he comes to the therapist with tears, begging, willing to change and willing to believe in a better future he wants, needing just one chance, just someone to talk him through and believe in him in return. only to be turned down because another appointment is already scheduled. because the customer is king and because there is a line to wait in. he can’t take a chance he’s never given in the first place, so he reverts. the cycle never breaks.

laurie, who stays with the friends who make her miserable. lochlan, who drinks the seeds following in his family’s footsteps again but lacks conviction to fully commit, even in death. i could go on.

nothing ever changes. the status quo remains and the cycle continues and the wheel is never broken. you can never escape and, if you’re the one who the system benefits, why would you want to in the first place? lock your cage, throw the key away and enjoy a piña colada that won’t kill you anyway while the world burns.

[quicksilversnails]

Took some notes from the Wild Life retrospective episode of the Imp & Skizz podcast featuring Grian because I thought the behind the scenes info was really interesting!

(3:15) The wild cards were all kept totally secret from the players (apart from Grian), with the exception of the superpowers and finale (as they required the players to set keybinds)

(3:45) The players were given files containing the required mods each week, which were named things like "creeper rain" to throw them off

(4:12) Wild cards were a combination of data packs and mods

(4:38) Grian told them not to read the folder name to avoid spoilers (which is kind of impossible), so everyone fully believed there would be creeper rain lol. Grian was saying it in jest but everyone took it seriously and were apologetic about having seen it, to which Grian told them not to worry

(6:58) Grian originally contacted a data pack dev called Brace for help with programming the wild cards. Some, like the shrinking/growing could be achieved with minecraft attributes, but the snails were too janky and unusable. Grian still liked the idea though, so he reached out to mod developers Henkelmax and Breadloaf, who designed the pathfinding/behaviour from scratch

(8:49) They had a debugging mode used to test the pathfinding of the snails, shown in the podcast and in Grian's credits

(10:09) Grian wants most of the credit to go to the development team and artists, as he was mostly in charge of ideas & organization!

(10:39) Grian's only regret with the snails was that they were too fast in session 3, leading to unexpectedly many deaths. They were apparently not so difficult to get away from during testing, but perhaps the testers were more used to them than the players were

(11:44) Grian: "We did develop to the lowest common denominator" ie. prioritizing how players would struggle over how worrying about if players would do too well

(12:56) Oli's voice for the snails was iconic. It cost Impulse a life because he intentionally stayed closer to it to hear the voice lol

(13:42) Danny was in charge of the snail models and animations

(14:11) During testing, the snails just sounded like Oli, which made it feel weird. They pitched up his voice so that it'd be less immediately recognizable

(15:18) The snails' jumping attack was meant to be clearly telegraphed: they would stop, wiggle, make a "ooeee" sound before jumping. Many players had their friendly creatures volume turned very low/off (as cows and other mobs are loud), which made this attack much less obvious for them

(16:57) The growing/shrinking had the least testing done for it, as it was the simplest conceptually and to program. This meant that the falling off of blocks due to the shrinking hitboxes wasn't anticipated

(17:55) Before the 1st session, Grian told them that he didn't think anyone would die to the wild card. Pearl's death made Grian pretty nervous, as he didn't want everyone dying too early in the season

(19:29) 6 lives were given, knowing that many of the death to the wild cards were unexpected/unfair. The intent was for ~3 lives to be allocated for wild cards, and ~3 for PvP.

(21:13) The developers were all fans of the Life Series!

(22:43) The shrinking/growing was intentionally pretty simple to ease players/viewers into the concept and build up toward more dramatic wild cards like the snails

(25:38) In the hunger episode, Grian didn't know which foods would be good

(25:58) Grian thinks that "it's unfair that Grian already knows everything" is valid criticism, but that it's important for him to be involved with the ideas. Having someone else do that is like having someone else record his videos: Life Series is his brainchild

(26:35) Well before the season began, while they were still developing the concept, Grian asked the other players for wild card ideas that would meet a few criteria. All of them ended up being unused for one reason or another. Impulse thinks his ideas were very "inside the box" because he was viewing things through what was possible in vanilla Minecraft. His idea was to have a scavenger hunt where the players would search to find a relic. The first person to find it would get a buff. Skizz's idea was for every player to turn into a random passive mob for every given interval of time. They would have to find every other player of the same mob type as them or else the whole group loses a life.

(29:44) The food qualities were weighted by the rarity of the item, so very common blocks like dirt and cobblestone would never give anything good. The other items were randomly selected

(30:23) Regular blocks/items cannot be made edible normally, so they had to circumvent that and custom code a fix for items not stacking correctly

(32:41) While a lot of players do want to win, the main priority is creating entertainment, which prioritizes playing recklessly

(33:20) The food wild card wasn't included in the finale because it would've felt like "too much". There was a higher risk of technical issues since it changed the data values of items, and Grian didn't want someone's last death to be because they ate their sword. In his mind, it was a good and fun wild card, but didn't need to be repeated in the finale. Impulse points out that they all would have collected more rare items by that point, removing the incentive to search for blocks to eat

(33:46) The wild cards in the finale were nerfed from their original sessions. The shrinking/growing had a smaller height range, the snails moved slower, etc.

(36:21) The personalized snail skins were a late addition by Danny, who made 18 skins very quickly

(36:49) Grian did not anticipate the snails becoming as popular with fans as they were. After the session released, they had the idea to release the snail merchandise, which directly funded the rest of the season

(39:20) Grian spent what "felt like every day" testing with the developers. They'd record the sessions on Tuesdays, meet up with the dev team, talk about what need to be done, testing, bugs, etc, edit and upload on Saturday, and would get a few days grace before starting again

(40:01) After the snail session, Grian was worried that the season would be very short due to all the deaths. They were considering toning down the later wild cards but ultimately didn't change them too much

(40:36) The time wild card was carefully balanced. If it had gone even a little faster, many players likely would have died because they wouldn't have time to react to threats like baby zombies or creepers.

(40:57) While sessions normally run for a variable amount of time, session 4 was hardcoded at 2 hours. Grian ended the session ~10 minutes early, just after they hit max speed, because he felt like things were getting dicey

(42:46) When the wild card first activates, it looks a lot like the server had frozen or crashed. Grian told the players before the session started that it would look like the game was broken, but that it isn't broken. Skizz tabbed out anyway and missed the beginning 😔

(43:30) Having the rain start just as the wild card began was a good visual indicator of time slowing down. This was a suggestion from the dev team (probably Brace)

(44:41) Impulse and Grian "cheesed" the end of the session by going branch mining. Grian wanted players to take advantage of the wild cards (eg. mining quickly, helping to kill someone), and not have them just be an annoyance.

(45:30) Keeping the client and server-side time stay in sync was challenging. The sky's motion was changed to be smoother on client-side. The players were also not as fast as the server (around 2x faster), the server was going faster than that, and the time of day was even faster

(46:56) The sounds were pitched up/down based on the speed to add to the effect

(27:46) In testing, if the players were made 7x faster, it would be basically unplayable, which was why it was capped at 2x speed. This made mobs very dangerous, as they were now faster than players and could catch up to you and kill you easily

(49:01) On several occasions, they had to extend the fuse duration of creepers to make them more fair. In the time session, their speed was only increased by ~10%

(49:39) Usually, Grian was the one to test the wild cards and notice when things like creeper speed would be an issue, since he was the one with experience making videos

(50:50) A challenge with balancing wild cards is accounting for the playstyles of so many players: reckless players like Scar and Skizz, "kind and gentle" players like Bigb who would stay off to the sides, and "the sweat squad" (Scott, Impulse) who play very cautiously

(52:48) Trivia Bot was the only wild card that was not planned in advance. Grian was struggling to come up with a wild card for that episode, and wanted to have a wild card available that could give people lives in case many people died to early wild cards without it feeling cheap.

(53:33) Trivia seemed a little boring on its face, so presentation was essential

(54:34) This one made Grian the most stressed due to all the moving parts involved in making it (coding and pathfinding mostly by Henkelmax, visuals by Hoffen, audio/music, questions)

(55:08) Trivia Bot's design was based on Grumbot and Mettaton from Undertale. Hoffen drew concept art shown in the video

(58:32) They show Trivia Bot's custom animation for becoming a snail and it's really cool

(59:12) The music was the most stressful part of the project. Grian spent 2-3 days looking through Epidemic Sounds for a Trivia Bot theme song and couldn't find anything good. He commissioned Zera @hopepetal for a theme song, which is played in the podcast. However, Grian realized he needed a full audio package, so he commissioned Oli late in development, who created the final soundtrack and many audio variations

(1:01:38) Grian wants to send appreciation for everyone who worked on the project, even if their work ultimately went unused

(1:02:58) Skizz was happy to give back however he could by staying on standby in the final episode as a zombie, as the players were able to "reap all the benefits" of the hard work of the development team

(1:05:21) Grian didn't know any of the trivia questions beforehand, which were done by fans of the series. The goal was for ~50% of the questions to be answered correctly, which was approximately met

(1:07:11) Players couldn't get questions about themselves because it would be too easy. This would encourage players to leave their bot, allowing other players to mess with them

(1:07:57) Grian felt a little left out from the discovery element of the wild cards, and decided to mess with Scar by hiding his bot. He wasn't expecting Scar to die from it, and could tell that he was genuinely a little upset by it. Grian felt bad about it, which led to a genuine in-game alliance between them

(1:12:32) Grian was very close to letting Trivia Bot give lives as rewards, but decided it would feel too cheap

(1:14:38) Mob swap was slightly toned down, with more camels and sniffers spawning

(1:15:07) Evokers didn't drop totems anymore. Instead, there was a minuscule chance a warden or wither would spawn, which would drop a totem if killed. Grian was a little disappointed that the warden got cheesed in the end

(1:17:45) Having the mobs start passive and turn hostile was mostly for the presentation, building anticipation, and so players could predict where mobs would spawn and react accordingly, making things feel less unfair

(1:20:32) There was no superpower made for Skizz (or Mumbo presumably)

(1:20:38) The superpowers were another late addition. There was a large design doc where Grian created all the powers, which were handed over to Henkelmax and completed over 4 days

(1:21:42) Grian avoided superpowers involving strength, that could cause someone to die easily. Most of the powers were social or movement-based, which couldn't be used for offence as easily

(1:22:25) Some powers were randomly assigned, others weren't. Impulse's was random. Cleo's, Bigb's, Lizzie's, Grian's were assigned.

(1:24:25) Grian gave himself the mimic because it could easily backfire (like in Grian's fall damage death), and because it would've been confusing for a player who wasn't aware of the other powers. They likely would've spent the episode just figuring out how everything worked and not actually using the power to its best ability

Lots of discussion about the superpowers and how they interacted in the episode itself, go watch if you're interested :)

(1:33:38) Talk on how the series "standard" rules evolved since 3rd Life. There was no keep inventory, and no restrictions on enchanting levels or potions, which created slow or unbalanced fights

(1:36:23) 3rd Life was designed to be an experimental series, which made Grian eager to improve it. For example, some people just weren't dying in 3L, leading to the boogeyman in LL, and so on

(1:37:17) The goal with the seasons isn't to one-up the previous one, but to create a different experience every time, which keeps things engaging for the creators

(1:38:31) At the end of each session, Grian would ask the group if they had fun and how they felt about the wild cards. According the Skizz, the answer was "a resounding yes"

(1:39:08) Grian had moments throughout the season where he personally felt like things didn't go well for him, and was anxious for the rest of the group's episodes. Things worked out while editing the raw footage, though. His issues were never with the wild cards themselves, but his own actions (traps not working, spending too long branch mining), but would always find funny moments in his footage

(1:43:41) Everyone in the Life Series cast genuinely likes and genuinely respects everybody else in the group. This allows them to make the show and get mad at each other, because they know it's all just in-character

(1:44:50) It'd be hard to top Wild Life in spectacle, and Grian doesn't want to start an arms race with himself. The next season could potentially be closer to 3rd Life, but Grian's not sure yet. For Grian, Wild Life was the most enjoyable

(1:45:20) Grian: "As long as people keep enjoying [the Life Series] then I'd love to keep doing it"

(1:49:35) With the finale, Grian knew how the wild cards played out the previous sessions and was able to adjust them

(1:49:56) Grian's goal was to create safe chaos where everyone knew what was happening and wouldn't die to them, which didn't go entirely to plan. The snails were 60% of their original speed and people still died

(1:51:03) Grian made a precise timeline of when each wild card would start/stop, it wasn't randomized.

(1:54:16) All the superpowers were randomized, with Bdubs' power being removed from circulation because it didn't have much use in a finale setting

(1:56:10) It was important for Grian that in the final moments, the wild cards were removed, so there were no interruptions. The timing worked out well because there were a few people left and it ended within ~10 minutes (this implies that the change wasn't based on # of players alive, as people had speculated based on Gem's death)

(1:58:48) The players all randomly switched to zombie skins throughout the session to mess with people on NameMC. Well-played :)

[idliketobeatree]

listening to Too Sweet for the first time and, damn, Crowley never got his flat back, did he? can't believe he's been crashing on Hozier's couch all this time drinking booze and waxing lamentations about his angel. strange world we live in

[crsssie]

hawk's eye view (spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader)

summary: "pick up the weird freak who's got insane aim" they said. "it'll lower the death rate in the BAU cases" they said. yes, but did one consider that maybe instead of a breath of fresh air, this new "breath" won't let anyone else breathe?!??! god forbid an unsub get away dead if you can help it

"stop breathing in my ear I can't feel the wind speed." "?!?!?!?!?!"

Bullet Casings

sharpshooter

down the neck

convincing

quiet

called in

ring ring

floor seven

earth wind and fire

shoes

distracted

code

reidsplaining

sniffles and sneezes

deux ex machina

music

let's go gambling!

valentine's

shot

babysitting

underprepared

glasses

walk

fifty bucks

tease

kissyou

maeve

beach

windy

training

LDSK

[soliadiaz]

haunted house [original poem] read on ao3

insp.

[spooksier]

relistening to tma and losing my mind more with each episode. anyways. today we're talking about how there are three characters in the show who are meant to be/groomed to be "the chosen one" for some specific purpose (agnes for the lightless flame, gerry to carry on some esoteric bloodline, jon for the watcher's crown/the web's escape plan) and all three of them have that running theme of being completely powerless in every aspect of their lives despite being made to be something powerful. we never get agnes' own perspective on her own life, gerry dies and is kept in limbo for *years*, and jon is marked to be the antichrist from age 8, like all of them were used as tools rather than people and if you couple that with all three at some point expressing that their fantasy is to live a normal life and be a normal person but they were trapped by divinity......fucked up if true

[secriden]

Style in episode 4 made me soft in a way that I truly did not expect. I’ve used the word “guileless” (def: innocent and without deception) before to describe him but I don't think that has been shown more clearly then in this episode.

He tries to be manipulative and lasts for all of one single morning and then comes running to Fadel the second he hears about Fadel asking about him. He's so excited, so exuberant at the thought that Fadel misses him, so happy that his little (terribly obvious and juvenile) plan worked.

Which is why I think he was genuinely taken aback when Fadel only had harsh words for him as a reply (this is not a criticism of Fadel; in this he has been consistent. Doesn't mean they weren't hurtful though). Look at the way Style's grin slowly dies. Watch the way he straightens and backs away a bit, like he wasn't expecting the clawed swipe of Fadel's dismissal.

But Style is resilient. He's tenacious. We see him rally and steel himself to resume his pursuit: because Style is nothing if not determined to hold on to the thinnest thread of hope that he's breaking through Fadel's shell. And can I just take a moment to get emotional about Style offering forgiveness even when Fadel hasn't asked for it?

This, though. I do think this was uncalled for (this is a criticism of Fadel). You can make the argument that Fadel has tried honesty and blunt rejection and it hasn't worked, but I would have respected Fadel more if he'd stuck to his guns and kept rejecting Style in the same manner. Especially when everything else about his character shows he's actually very up front and direct. With Bison, with Kant, hell even with himself.

Fadel is mocking Style's clear and wanton desire for him. Look at the sardonic little grin Fadel gets right before he says, "You won't ever get what you want." Consider the way he was touching Style with that gentle, focused intensity; how he cuts up his shirt and tears it open and leans in close in a way that suggests purposefulness while having zero intention of seeing it through. Fadel knew what he was doing and he did it on purpose, to hurt.

And you can see that Style is genuinely hurt here. I think he has always been prepared for Fadel's rejection, but not his cruelty. Not Fadel making sport of him and his very real emotions and desires. Because Fadel has been rude and condescending before, but he's never been contemptuous like he is here.

And I wonder, partly, if this is because both times we see Style and his dad, his dad is scolding/chiding/correcting him to some extent. Perhaps that's just how they interact. Or perhaps, as implied by the way Style sarcastically said "Thanks, dad" as Fadel drives away in episode 1, Style doesn't enjoy the way his father scolds him and always has criticisms or corrections for him. Perhaps Style just wants to be accepted for who he is, especially by the man he is starting to have real feelings for.

Edit (after Ep 5): I'm so sorry, Papa Style, I did you so wrong. ;u;

@lazzarella made a post recently about Dunk's phenomenal acting in this scene (among others) and I concur so hard about how intense and scorching and "both fiery and steely" Style's anger feels in this scene. He's furious and wounded and you can see it in his gaze, the tension in his jaw, the way he bares his teeth up at Fadel when he says "...punch me in the face? Go on!"

And honestly, he is justified. Fadel's incredulity has no basis here: he stooped back to using public humiliation, something which Style very pointedly has not engaged with since his conversation with Bison in episode 2. Every instance of approaching Fadel since then has clearly been aimed to involve himself in Fadel's private life*.

*Yes even or maybe especially the support group in episode 3. Because while Style may have been treating the whole thing too lightly, all of it is directed privately to Fadel with his secret looks and winks. As far as the other support group members are concerned, Style was a somewhat overdramatic new member that had no connection to Fadel.

But what Fadel did by cutting up his shirt and sending him out in shame regressed them back to their early dynamic, which was far more antagonistic.

This is why Style lashes out at the support group again. Look at the anger simmering in his eyes. The way he makes direct, insistent eye contact with Fadel as he speaks, returning again when he talks about feeling used. Style, overall, is a character that doesn't take anything too seriously so it's almost shocking to see him this visibly angry and so pointedly challenging Fadel in a space where Fadel cannot easily brush him off.

But even now, even in all his rage and hurt, Style is true to himself and his heart. He doesn't want revenge or an apology, he wants Fadel to acknowledge that the thing between them, fragile as it is, matters; that what they did meant something to the both of them.

And this is why I was so broken about Style offering forgiveness without Fadel asking for it earlier: because all it took was Fadel admitting that he missed Style for him to unreservedly offer reassurance and safety for Fadel's heart. There is nothing ambiguous about what Style says at the jeep: he makes his own intentions clear by offering certainty, taking responsibility, promising the very commitment he was asking Fadel for.

He makes himself vulnerable to and for the man who literally just mocked and humiliated him that morning. Style really just let all his anger go immediately like that.

And no, I don't think he was doing all that for the car. This is just how Style talks. He has a flair for the dramatic, and this was the perfect way to reveal his news to Kant. But look at how delighted, how filled with boyish glee he is while he tells Kant the news about Fadel agreeing to be his boyfriend. Consider the way he reacted in the moment: the joy in his voice and the wonder in his eyes when he said "Really? We're dating now?", the way he covers Fadel's cheeks in a hundred butterfly kisses.

Also, a thought that occurred to me - could this be Style's first relationship? We know from episode 1 that he sleeps around, but there's seemingly no mention of a previous serious/committed relationship so far. His dad seems surprised to hear Style is seriously pursing someone. Could Fadel be the first person to capture his interest for long enough that Style developed actual feelings?

Which is also why his fear is now so visceral. He is genuinely terrified of Fadel, but I don't think it's just because he's realised how dangerous Fadel is (after all, he's known that to some extent since he watched Fadel break a man's arm with his thighs). No, his fear stems from the fact that Fadel now has reason to hurt Style.

In the face of the betrayal of his own trust, Style answers Kant's plea to friendship and entangles himself with Kant's lie willingly... and thereby forfeits all rights to the safety he was so confident of in the middle of the woods by an abandoned factory. Because now Style knows that if Kant gets found out, it won't matter that Style didn't intentionally mislead and take advantage of Fadel's vulnerability in the forest. Because he still chose Kant over Fadel here, and that makes him undeserving of the open door he asked Fadel to give him.

Style is incredibly transparent in all his thoughts and emotions and this is why I say that Style is guileless: he is incapable of true deception. His heart is too close to the surface, his desires too obvious, his thoughts too clearly broadcasted on his face.

He is the perfect foil; not only to Fadel (who until this episode held everything so buried inside his chest that we only understand his true feelings in snatches of memories or moments when Fadel is certain that he is truely alone) but also Kant (whose deception, whilst cracking under pressure, is intentional and calculated - thinking about that bowling alley accomplice right now - in a way Style never could be).

And this means that any success on his part in the upcoming episode(s) in deceiving Fadel is going to fall on either Fadel's own willful blindness or the suspension of disbelief the genre requires of the viewer -- but it won't be because Style is actually any good at playing the role now that he knows the full truth.

This is why my heart breaks for Style. Because Kant forced a burden on him that he was in no way prepared to bear. And eventually Style will have to choose between his loyalty to Kant and his burgeoning feelings for Fadel and, regardless of his choice, the narrative demands that Style sacrifice a piece of his own heart in the process.

[tvuniverse]

9-1-1 -> 6x10-11 // 8x15 (potential) coma dream

[royaldollybox]

The heart killers text post part 7 ft. Ep 7

Devine bouts of madness took over me making these

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

[radiocity]

The L Word: Lookbook ↳ 2.01, Life, Loss, Leaving