#and so its very much a product of its time

[lizardsfromspace]

Okay, Matrix plagiarism case postscript

One thing I didn't answer is how she got the Wachowski's timeline wrong. I still don't know, but it appears she essentially shifted their lives back a decade

She says less than a decade ago they were running a construction business, but actually, working at a construction company is what they were doing in 1986. In 1976 Lana and Lilly were eleven and nine years old respectively. I can't explain why she messed this up, beyond having to age them up a decade for the story to work

But this screencap also brings up another thing she mentions repeatedly that I didn't mention - the smoking gun in her claim is that...the Matrix ripped off her words verbatim for its opening crawl. The opening crawl...to The Matrix.

Huh?

So her story is - and unsurprisingly the timeline here is jumbled, for instance, citing production interviews from 1997 when the film wouldn't enter production until 1998 - the original version of The Matrix contained a Star Wars-style opening crawl, and this was the most directly plagiarized part of the film.

She claims this opening crawl was, in fact, in the theatrical release of The Matrix and only removed when it came to home media, because she. Because she called the FBI on the Wachowskis for stealing the idea of opening crawls from her

The theatrical cut does differ from later versions slightly - most infamously the Wachowskis made the green color filter much more green in the second DVD release, to make it consistent with the style of the sequels - but if there was a opening crawl mandated by the studio, nobody but her has mentioned it, and I find it hard to believe critics wouldn't mention it.

Because this is Dark City. She's clearly confused The Matrix with stories about the studio's meddling with the 1998 film Dark City.

Dark City was the dystopian sci-fi film that had a opening narration explaining the whole plot foisted on it by the studio, and critics mentioned it. Basically every review mentioned it (some even suggest covering your ears or muting the film the first time you see it, at least until the Director's Cut removed it). Meanwhile, reviews of The Matrix praised its opening from the very beginning: how it drops you right into things and lets you find out about its world as Neo does. It's just not possible that the theatrical release has a opening crawl no one mentioned when I can pull up full comparisons of theatrical vs first DVD vs second DVD vs Bluray. Whatever story she read either was about Dark City, or was a Wachowski saying in passing "yeah the studio wanted us to add one but we didn't".

Another thing I didn't touch on is just how much it hypes her up as a untouchable genius of cinema. For instance, she claims to have come up with the effects of The Matrix in 1983 too

(one funny part is how little she brings up The Terminator at all? She just threw it in as a bonus I guess)

I looked up how they did the bullet time effect in particular and...it would have been impossible in 1983. It's not just high speed photography; it's entire banks of cameras, placed in the right place by computer previsualization, their sequence programmed, and with all the elements composited together by CGI. Even stylistically - the true creator of the effects cited Akira as a influence, and Akira the movie didn't exist in 1983. Neither did the type of Hong Kong action film that heavily influenced it. I guess it would be possible to write down "someone goes really fast and we depict it like they slowed down time", concepts of a plan etc

But like.

She's destined to be one of the most profound master writers of the 21st century. This is a book proving she's never written anything. It has a pitch for The Third Eye, it has a second film treatment tacked on at the end, and it has copyright registrations for her sequels to Terminator and The Matrix. M. Night Shyamalan's character in Lady in the Water was destined to be a great writer too, but he actually wrote a book. He didn't put out a book with a decades-old synposis that was never finished & reams of legal documents and a bio saying, I'm one of the greatest authors of all time. Because who needs writing when you have destiny, God, and the ancient superrace living in the Pyramids on your side?

This is my for real last post on this since I ended up just depressed about it in the end. I think the worst part is, she knows she lost. But she still goes to the press telling a story she knows isn't true, and people believe her. Some of it is transphobic - "stop saying it's a trans allegory when they stole it"; some of it runs with the Christian oppression narrative (full disclosure, I was inspired to look for her book again bc while looking up another crank, I saw an interview with her in the sidebar of a religious website); but a lot of it is just people who innocently want it to be true.

One of the few pieces debunking her story is on a website called Black Excellence - it doesn't even have a byline - said this:

"There are many people, especially Black people, who wanted the story to be true. It symbolized a Black person, especially a Black woman, finally winning against the system. When Sophia Stewart spoke about how mainstream media would not give her the time of day because almost all of them were owned by Warner Brothers, some Black media embraced her. Blogs spread her story, especially the initial story on Globe that contained errors about the case.

"But the story is not true. Sophia Stewart did not become the richest Black person in the country. But that did not deter her from going on several shows and publications to tell her story."

She took advantage of people's urge to root for the underdog against a corporation - and seized on a lack of mainstream coverage to claim her story was being suppressed. But it just isn't true. Also yeah she ridiculously claims that Warner Bros owns every news website and newspaper and that's kind of funny I guess. Well, that's it. I'm never doing this again

[nshtn]

Wesker has a massive ego to cover up his lack thereof within.

personal hc / just me illegibly scrawling about the nature of uro!wesker's narcissism <3 tw: medical, childhood trauma

The idea that he is Umbrella’s biggest failure keeps him up at night, swirling around his neck like a noose every time he has to inject PG67A/W – the insane, stark difference between properly medicated and missed by two hours flattens him and destabilizes his composition. It doesn't show outwardly as much other than irritation and snappiness, but it broils within.

Fighting Chris, holding back, not letting himself kill the man because of the very compassion they worked so hard to erase – it makes him feel weak. The conflict between hating what they’ve done to him and the urge to be the monster they’ve made is intense. He has blown people away for something as small as being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and yet something small and decrepit inside of him swells and blocks his perfect aim when the man who destroys his progress crawls back for another spar? Pathetic.

His laser focus on the sterile apathy of hypothesis, theory, test, production is a way of detaching from the fragile self within, allowing him to reprieve from his personal thoughts for as long as he can keep himself awake and slavering. You don’t question when you’re splicing. You don’t ponder the principles that guide you and the sanity of your slipping framework when you’re comparing before-and-after strands. The threat of having to think about something he perceives to be as useless as feelings and dealing with the buried, petrified remains of what were once his morals keeps his nose firmly in his work. He talks about his work. He debates on his work. He attends meetings on his work. He succeeds in his work. He does not tend to, discuss, or debate his feelings.

He covers this conflict up, mental bandaid and gauze, by outwardly projecting a massive, bloviating ego; focusing only on his worth as the world’s greatest virologist, the world’s most powerful bioweapons dealer, the world’s most benevolent, unshakable savior… being cold, cruel, heartless; entertaining no space of play, no downtime when he is sick or stumbling. It is what he knows, the harbor he has always thrown his rope to regardless of how he has been impaled by its’ rocks. He clings to these titles and his sycophants tread their legitimacy into a reality even as his big black boot suffocates the life around him.

The truth is, Wesker has no chance to survive, ultimately, as he is. His blathering about ‘delaying the inevitable’ finds its’ truth nestled in himself: he continually delays the ultimate, final mental break to destruct his sanity irreversibly and turn his mind feral to his own viruses, by drowning in his obsessions – obsessions that will ultimately betray him no matter how he fosters them.

And it is why, when Chris finally rains hell upon him in that volcano, he goes completely, utterly feral. He does not get the out that Hidalgo had to T-Veronica, or the reprieve of control that Ashford artificially chained to herself. The very last straw to grasp is attempting to execute him for the monster he is.

There is no ledge left to prop him up after that.

[whereserpentswalk]

You have to wear power armor for your job. You're a ranger, it's your job to go out to under explored planets and other heavenly bodies and retrieve things, or make contact with people, or deliver things. As romanticized as it is its mostly just walking through places humans can't safely walk through.

Seeing your power armor for the first time was weird. It was entirely metal, but it was very sleek, form fitting, with a pinched in waist and chrome texture. The helmet had a large visor, like a motorcycle helmet, you could see someone's eyes through it, you'd be able to see more but a gas mask like thing covers your mouth and nose below the helmet. You're even allowed by the company to paint it or add stickers. You feel so elegant within it, so powerful, so modern.

On your first mission you understand just how much you'll be wearing your power armor. You're on a planet with an atmosphere that would poison any humanoid on it, and it's inhabitants breath that stuff so there's no changing it. You spend months trying to track someone down, and never take off your armor once.

As time goes on there are more and more missions like that. You've walked through a forest filled with poison plants. Several places with no atmosphere at all. A planet where it rains glass. The skeleton of a long destroyed spaceship. A place so cold the ocean is solid ice. A place so hot your blood would have boiled if not for your armor. Days, weeks, months, spent inside armor. The company doesn't let you take off the armor on missions, but it's just safety, in almost all of these places it would kill you the momment you took your helmet off. They don't give you much time between missions, so you get used to being in armor very quickly.

Your armor takes care of you. Nutrition is injected into your body, and waste product is removed directly from your guts. The suit cleans your entire body without you noticing it. You can sleep while the suit still walks for you. You don't feel any pain or heat or cold. You can even browse the internet with it, and you can call or text anyone without moving your hands. They joke that the armor masturbates for you, but it actually does send pleasurable sensations throughout your body when you need that type of sensation. It all feels weird at first, but soon it feels normal. You had some robot freinds in highschool, you wonder if they felt like this.

When you’re between missions, and spending time in various hub stations or port cities, you realize you're wearing the armor most of the time too. Sometimes you take the helmet off but that feels weird, you don't like the feeling of air on your face. The other rangers you know, the ones who have been doing it for years longer than you, don't ever want to be outside of their armor.

You eventually get permission from the company to go back home for a few weeks to see your family and freinds. When you get to your homeworld you take off your armor for the first time in a long time. You don't really have normal clothing so you're wearing what you had when you first left nearly two years ago. Your family and freinds all want to catch up with you but it's all so weird and awkward.

You feel like you've been skinned. Every little thing touching you feels so uncomfortable. Your body seems so gross and soft and week, everything feels so wrong, and hard to move. You're not used to taking care of your bodily functions or grooming, and it's both hard to adjust, and gross for you to have to do these things. The idea of putting food in your mouth seems so disgusting. You can barely walk on your own now.

You tried to go on a walk with your joyfriend. But the wind on your flesh disturbed you so much that you began to weep. They tried to hug you but it only made things worse.

After that you just wore your armor for the rest of the trip. Most people you know were disturbed. They wanted you to quit the job but the pay was too good, and you wouldn't know where else to go. It was just another thing everyone would get used to, just another mundane fact of life.

[canmom]

choosing the treasure that eats you

the gods in narrative podcast The Silt Verses cover an enormous variety of motifs and subjects - and indeed, we are told how new gods are invented all the time, researched and tested by the government, competing to be the patron of companies and individuals, broken down and dumped when they're no longer needed. but they are all unified by two things: they all demand human sacrifices ('a god must feed' as Carpenter puts it in the opening episode) and they all inflict dramatic body-horror transformations (a process known as 'hallowing'), associated with their theme.

nevertheless, the idea of not following a god seems to be pretty alien to the people of this world. and you don't really get much choice: if, as in episode 7, your advertising company's restructuring decides that the weakest performers need to be sacrificed to their new 'sponsor', you don't get to opt out, it's in your contract and no doubt the police will catch you if you run. we see over and over how the gods (and their chief devotees) pick out the vulnerable, drive their believers to spiral down into life-defining obsession - by stringing them along with vague promises of some kind of final answer or fulfilment, then turn away and discard them as soon as they've served their purpose.

it is a very, very productive theme, and the writers have a gift for furnishing it with evocative words and nasty details so it doesn't get stale. so of course I reflect on the metaphor.

in nier automata, the childlike machine lifeforms search for purpose in a world that doesn't seem to offer any. the answers they find are their 'treasures': small, seemingly insignificant objects which individual machines devote themselves to protecting.

for example, one machine may devote itself to cultivating a flower (as in the second episode of the anime), or looking after a broken doll (as in the story of pathetic failmachine Plato 1728 seen in the DLC/the Deserving of Life single by Amazarashi). other sidequests lead you to encounter machines who obsess over fighting, or travelling fast (easy challenges to implement in a game engine).

the machines' behaviour seems inexplicable and even random to others, but the pointlessness is kind of the point: somewhere the chain of 'why' has to terminate. i choose this one.

sometimes i think about 'art' in the sense of a set of behaviours exhibited by humans. i don't have any interest in demarcating art vs non-art, just to understand what this phenomenon is, why it should be so compelling.

one definition that keeps sticking around in here, despite it not really working, is that 'art' is a word for the thing we devote ourselves for no other reason. you could spend your time drawing, but equally you could spend it speed cubing. we are obsessively optimising creatures so, presented with a defined scope of an activity - something like the rules of a game - we refine our skills within it, pushing the bar further and further, changing the rules as we go to keep it interesting. the art forms that stick around tend to be the ones that continue to be productive and evolve. but it's all, in a sense, pointless - and that's why it's the most important thing, because it's done for itself, not in service of some other goal.

this is not actually a good description of the thing it claims to describe. many things we celebrate as 'art' are done for extrinsic, not intrinsic motivations, like commissioned paintings. indeed, far from being purely intrinsically motivated, there are many extrinsic functions that the various activities we call 'art' perform: communication, entertainment, distraction, a tool to reason with, a safe zone to explore emotions, ideological propaganda, historical memory.

nevertheless, the idea of a thing done for its own sake, defying justification, continues to compel somehow.

art does not escape the logic of sacrifice. if you sacrifice your time, your health, your social connections in pursuit of your art - why, does that not prove the art is more important than your time, your health, your friendships? there's a romance in the narrative about burning up in pursuit of something 'great' - and if you want to undercut that narrative, you likely claim that the object is not particularly worth the effort. it's just videogames. it's just cartoons.

the slogan of The Silt Verses is the sarcastic line of Carpenter (originally her friend Vaughan, part of episode 7's corporate hecatomb): "you get to choose the thing that eats you". a very succinct statement! don't we, indeed.

not that sacrifice is always for some abstract intrinsic goal. in the story, the feeding is often done in exchange for some straightforward, material advantage - and in a sense that is the same in our world, with the threshold adjusted so you have to sacrifice a certain amount to just stay alive.

here's a calculation, because i'm fond of numbers: if you start working full-time at, say, age 21 (a conservative assumption, most people start earlier) up until the UK retirement age of 66 (currently, set to rise), working 40 hours a week (conservative, but then again most people don't actually work the hours they're paid for), the current price of a full human life is 114,793 hours to the gods of capital - pick your fave. if you sleep eight hours a night, the god of sleep gets 160,710 during that same period. harder to fit parameters on the demands of the gods of food, cleaning, caring for others, travelling to and fro, and 'being too tired to do much of anything', which certainly have their own demands.

that leaves you with a certain number to use for your own arbitrary ends. in theory, you get to choose what will eat those ones. in practice? a unified will? consistent intentions? ya joking mate. how many hours go to the god of 'responding to the thing in front of me', known by its sacred name, Aydeeaitchdee?

i used to feel jealous of people, some of them my friends, who seem to have some kind of unique vision, some sort of captivating identity to the creations that they express. the 'spark' that makes that special. i wondered - still wonder - if i will finally find my spark, a reason i'm here, a unique contribution i'm poised to make to the world, the value over replacement - the thing that all this mess was building towards all along, the thing that will make all the efforts so far feel less faltering and haphazard. but why should there be such a thing? if one day i live long enough to, by chance, find something that feels like it's an answer, it's just a retroactive reframing of the chaos - because that's what brains do. convince someone they made a decision they didn't, and they will justify it to you.

there is a song by Sassafrass, an incredibly nerdy a capella band who otherwise largely sing about norse mythology, called 'somebody will'. when i first heard this song i honestly kind of hated it (you can probably find that post if you dig hard enough). it felt like a tragic cope: facing the blatant reality that you will never be an astronaut as you (apparently) desire, to insist on narrativising your life as being part of the great project space colonisation - even if it's so remote as clerking a funding organisation or working at a scifi bookstore or attending a convention (it's from quite a specific milieu), you can claim to be one of the 'sailors' helping to 'conquer' that 'ocean'. i hated it, because why should the space program be all that? somebody will walk on mars someday - so fucking what? what then? job's a good 'un, everybody? is that really worth sacrificing shit ('sacrifice something i don't have for something i won't have') for, here and now? surely your life is about more than putting 'somebody' on Mars one day?

but considering it again today - i mean it might as well be the space program as anything else, right. you need a direction to move in. it doesn't matter what the direction, as long as it keeps you moving. change is life and stillness is death, don't you know. perhaps you drag others along with you and you get a current flowing that way for a while, until the energy driving it runs out, or it runs up against the overpressure around an as-yet uneroded bank. so we all move around and the dynamics of it all, invisible to us, build a delta, which becomes a rock, and against that flows another river one day, grinding down the rock to move it to another delta, all by the nearly-random movements of the water molecules. shit i think i lost the thread of the metaphor and now i'm just talking about geophysics

it seems... almost laughably tedious to be circling this existential drain still. in my milieu: douglas adams cracked his joke about 'the ultimate question of life the universe and everything' 30 years earlier in 1977. randall munroe uploaded 'i'll get the super soaker' in 2007. but navel-gazing has been a joke for much longer, surely at least as long as there have been people to question what the point is.

funny how it always comes back to water metaphors.

[aeligsido]

[WM — September 2024] Prompt 23 — Pensieve.

Rating: G.

TW: none.

Characters: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Lily Evans Potter, Tom Riddle; heavy mention of the Black family in general.

Additional Tags: reality tv show au; the Black have a reality tv show; press; media article; implied prongsfoot in the article; implied James/Lily/Sirius/Remus in the fic; it is very much a thing in this au tbh; a bit of domesticity.

Summary: Sirius Black Returns: A Black Lives Exclusive!

Words count: 691.

A/N: Heya! I got the idea of this au some time ago and decided to have a bit of fun here eheh. I hope you like it! 💕

@wolfstarmicrofic

read on ao3.

-

SIRIUS BLACK RETURNS: A BLACK LIVES EXCLUSIVE!

Black Lives, the most watched reality TV show first in the UK, then in the world, from Pensieve Production, is well-known, and so is the family the show follows. The Blacks, from the late English nobility, started this project almost fifteen years ago, and it had since been going strong. The shows followed closely Walburga and Orion Black (or as many call them, THE power couple), beloved Alphard Black, Cygnus and Druella Black, as well as frequent apparition from Lucrecia née Black now Prewett and her husband Ignatius. Other usuals guest stars were Arcturus Black, the family patriarch, and the five family children: Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa, Sirius, and Regulus, whom the show started centering itself on.

Andromeda created the scandal nine years ago when, then aged eighteen, she renounced her family to marry a commoner. (Since then, she gave birth to an adorable daughter!) Four years later — and thus five years from now — the heir of the family himself, Sirius Black, stopped appearing on the show. The family at the time told us the sixteen years-old wanted to focus on both his studies and mental health and as such, was taking a much-needed break. Of course, multiple theories spawned following this statement — but need for it no more!

Just this morning, Pensieve Production announced Sirius Black’s return in an upcoming, special, exclusive season!

“It is with great joy that we are welcoming Sirius back with us,” states Tom Riddle, the Blacks’ manager. “We missed him during those years, but we know how important it was for him. And now, he will, if he wishes so, tell you more about it himself!”

We got more details about this exclusive season as well:

“We will follow Sirius and his brother Regulus on a vacation across the Mediterranean,” announced Riddle — to the glee of quite a lot of us, I would assume! “They will be joined by a few friends, some of which are quite familiar to our long-time viewers.”

Some of those friends are already confirmed. As such, we will greet James Potter (Sirius Black’s long-term best friend, and maybe more), as well as Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and a young lady somes could have forgotten but who appeared a few times in Sirius' last season on the show, Mary Macdonald.

Riddle teased—

“What are you reading?”

Remus startles, his phone almost falling out of his hands; Sirius, thankfully, catches it. Not thankfully, he starts reading the article — and groans rather unnecessarily, if anyone asks Remus.

“How many times did I tell you not to read those?”

“It was in my recommendations?” he tries innocently.

Sirius sends him an unimpressed look.

“James!” he hollers, and then waits; from somewhere on the ground floor of their house, James hollers right back.

“Yes?”

“We need to keep Remus away from Internet!”

“Hey!” he protests, but Sirius just drops a kiss into his hair with a smirk and no answer.

“Okay!” unhelpfully agrees James; it would be it if Lily hadn’t appeared in the doorway, then, a pile of her favorite fluffy towels in her arms.

“What for?”

Sirius waves Remus's phone as if its answer enough. Lily reaches for it, checks the screen, and sighs.

“Oh, Remus,” she says with a soft, concerned tone he hates having directed at him.

“I just wanted to read a few comments,” he mutters.

“It’s my first time and even I know it’s a bad idea,” she notes, handing the phone back to Sirius. They exchange a look, and she nods decidedly before leaving again.

“Easy to say, everyone loves her,” Remus mutters some more. He has grown disaccoutumed of the show and all it entails over the years, perhaps. He’s feeling almost anxious now.

Sirius drops on the bed beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders and embracing him protectively.

“And we love you,” he reminds him softly.

Remus burrows himself against his chest, feeling Sirius’ heartbeat under his ear. “Yeah, I know. I love you too.”

“Good.” Sirius kisses his hair again, tender and fond, and Remus wants to bottle it and drink it every time he feels down.

[moontearpensfic]

7 Snippet

Here's a snippet for the next chapter of 7, my Harry raises Tom AU! We open on the "present" again, where Harry tries to work out why, exactly, Voldemort Present!Tom went to sleep and let Past!Tom's consciousness come forward in the last part.

Harry sighs. "In this case, I think it's better that you explained to me what happened. Whatever it is, it can't be—" Good, he doesn't finish. A frown wrinkles Tom's brow. He seems as if he might debate—decides not to, straightening his shoulders and resting his curled knuckles on his knees. "Very well," he agrees. "I will tell you my theory." Theory? Harry wants to press. Tom only has a theory? But he's learned enough about Tom over the years to know not to interrupt, or receiving answers grows slimmer. Tom rises from what Harry considers Tom's chair. Scarlet and gold, well-worn in appearance—a style Tom has confessed to loathe, even though he was Sorted Gryffindor—it is nevertheless the spot that Tom chooses to sit in when he frequents Harry's sitting room. Though he paces, his fingertips steepled together, Tom's movements are elegant, much like the boy Harry remembers from the Chamber, all those years ago. Yet there are subtle differences, too. His hair, for one, isn't quite so perfectly coiffed. Tom leaves it almost unkempt. Instead of the careful combing he once gave it in the morning, followed by touch-ups throughout the day until he learned how to use product, he brushes it first thing and then lets its curls tangle throughout the day. Often—such as now—they're crumpled from where his fingers distractedly ran through it. It's a change from the past few months (almost six, Harry realizes with a start, not for the first time in his life. Time flies so quickly…). Ever since Harry returned to this timeline, Tom has appeared most like his diary form. Seeing him like—like Harry's Tom… It leaves Harry's heart in his throat.

That's right, I mostly wanted to share his precious hair!🥺

[wolfythewitch]

Hi chat my Twitter account got hacked and the only noticeable change is that they deleted my tweet about Moby Dick being racistly anti racist what does this mean

[tytoalbatross]

god damn i do not post often but can i talk about intentionality for a second?? one second please

i'm gonna be talking about bg3 but this really applies to any fandom space. people will, surface-level, agree that a Black character is not getting enough content compared to their white counterparts because it's. obvious . take wyll, who is several hours behind on voiced lines compared to other origins despite being one of the original five (before they added karlach and whiteified her too but that's another post). it's hard to deny cold hard facts

but then instead of engaging in content that uplifts Black characters and creators, they'll go right back to pumping out more and more content of just their white faves. on its own, it's not actively harmful, but here's what the implication is, whether they acknowledge it or not: yes wyll has less in-game content, yes his writing didn't get the attention it deserved, therefore i don't like him as much. it only perpetuates wyll's lack of content by contributing to his sidelining in fandom spaces

what i would love for fans who claim to be allies to do is to step out of the comfort zone of their initial favorites (which can, in fact, be biased!) and start pursuing content centering Black characters with intentionality. like all things, anti-racism (actively pushing back against racism rather than simply "Not Being Racist") takes practice and effort. you can't really agree with us that wyll needs more content, then in the same breath say that it's because of that that he's not interesting to you . the point was right in front of you doing a jig and you still missed it

[pinazee]

It sounds like theres some interest in rerunning/rebooting one of the old starkid shows!

So out of curiosity,

[likeabxrdinflight]

tired of early 20-somethings acting like harry potter was never good or had no value in its day like shut the fuck up half of you weren't even there when it peaked

[britneyshakespeare]

My toxic trait is that I like how my incomplete drawings look better than the finished things

[why-the-heck-not]

26.01.24, friday

duolingo french streak day 21

4h of writing an essay abt my thesis topic aka I’m elbow deep in articles about brains even tho I study computer science (I love it tho: finally get read abt neuroscience and actually have it not be ”just for fun” (my 16-year-old self who was 100% set on becoming a neurosurgeon/scientist is thrilled currently))

grocery store

[defiledtomb]

selene what's got you smiling so sweetly? (is it the hunter, covered in blood?) ๏˽๏

[frostedpuffs]

IM STILL THINKING ABOUT THE KITTEN

[cozylittleartblog]

happy halloween 🎃

(this design is available in my etsy as a sticker, and on my redbubble & teepublic on A Bunch Of Stuff!)

[mantisgodsdomain]

3,4,15 for any member of team snakemouth!

...how about all three?

(for this ask game)

3. Obscure headcanon

For Kabbu, though we may have noted this before, we think that the North is quite firmly considered a patch of Deadland - and its inhabitants, as a result, tend to be very, very strange from the perspective of the rest of the world. For Kabbu, specifically, this means a variety of things, both biologically and culturally - though Northern beetles are a lot more common in Bugaria, deadlands in general come with a very high rate of mutation and a very high rate of death, and that means a high rate of superstition both in things that actively impact survival and in things that do not - as well as the simple fact that a constantly-changing set of genetics means that what a northern beetle is like is often very, very open to change.

Kabbu is an example of a burrower - a subspecies of sorts primarily identified by claws designed, very specifically, for digging. His claws grow into a sort of broad shovel shape and tend to be much sturdier than an equivalent beetle's - getting underground in moments in soft ground isn't really an exaggeration! Though he can dig through harder ground, it takes time and effort, and he can't go at it with the sheer speed of softer soil - technically, he could burrow through solid rock given enough time, but it would be both hard and extremely painful. It's a trait that's heavily prized in the North for its ability to create shelter and safety - beetles dominate the North's underground, and there's nothing that can really pose a threat to them. Tunnels are safety, and it really surprises and disorients him when things underground attack him, because back home that just kind of doesn't happen unless it's Another Beetle specifically targeting you.

In terms of more social things, he has a lot of trouble getting used to the concept of mimics. This is mostly due to the fact that mimics as a whole don't really... exist in the north, at least not in the means of gaining benefit from mimicking anything else. If you can talk to them as any other awakened bug, they're usually exactly what they say they are, and species mimicking normal geological features and plants haven't found any success, unless you're willing to get extremely generous with describing the snow-bank camouflage of a Northern Silk Moth's topcoat.

Though sand wasps or "white bees" still exist, the thing they're mimicking no longer exists in the same area. Any Hive that once was in the North is long dead, overly-large groups of bugs tend to die out quickly thanks to the handful of large predators that may decide the benefits outweigh the consequences when enough tasty beetles gather in the same place, and when the enemy you're dealing with is both too heavily armoured to be really deterred by most weaponry and capable and intelligent enough to stalk your group through the snow until the cost outweighs the benefit of eating you... well, the sort of small groups generally sent to start a new colony of social bugs really don't stand a chance.

It is, occasionally, very hard to get used to the fact that southern silk moths only grow a few heads taller than him. He's used to them presenting a lot more of a threat.

For Leif... we think he's completely, 100% blind. His eyes are frozen over due to quirk of his biology - the thing about his integration that makes him a failure, specifically. With any of the Snakemouth cordyceps, they do not naturally transfer the immunity to their own magic that any other variety of mage would have, and so need to alter their hosts in order to get the appropriate biology across. With Leif, that protection is not sufficient to protect the host, much less to preserve valuable organs - eyes, especially, are fragile, after all. The cold he naturally generates exceeds the host adaptations he provides, resulting in, even beyond the blindness, unusually brittle chitin, extremely stiff and easy-to-damage tissue, organic food processing efficiency appropriate for a bug currently freezing to death...

Well, you get the idea. Functionally, if alive, a host body would be in a state of perpetual hypothermia, prone to breaking down over time and needing persistent repair that his strain of cordyceps cannot provide, as any repair he could offer that's not within his host's natural healing capabilities requires manually breaking down and reconstructing any parts, which... is inconvenient at best. As he is, he gets around most of these issues by simply replacing his host body's soft tissue with cordyceps, but that has its own issues, mainly in making him look and move incredibly uncanny. Injuries take a very long time to repair, relatively, though the less tissue damage is done the easier it is to fix - being cleanly sliced in two, for example, might be easier to handle than any sort of crushing damage. As far as his eyes go... eyes of any sort are delicate, and the slightest damage can permanently blind someone. Any of Snakemouth Den's cordyceps tend to go blind anyways as the fungus burrows into ocular nerves - if anything, this is better for hiding, since the frost over his eyeballs conceals any mycelium in the eyes themselves. In theory, it can be repaired... in practice, it would be far too much of a pain for work that will be undone the moment he overtaxes his ice magic again.

...also, he doesn't really care. Sight is not the most important sense a moth has and his scent and ability to sense pheromones is fine, along with a general sensitivity to things like vibrations in the air. More than fine, even, since he's now kind of hybridized with both Ant and Bee and the number of pheromones he's sensitive enough to sense has shot through the roof. This on top of the "magic sense" he has means he has absolutely no trouble getting around, though reading books requires more or less sticking an antenna or fungal tendril over them and parsing out where the ink is by scent and texture. He full-on didn't notice he was blind until after the cordyceps reveal.

For Vi, while this might be one we've mentioned before, we headcanon that she's got a bit of minor mutation throwing her antenna... maybe 2% more towards a non-social relative, which gears her just slightly more towards being able to detect "foreign" scents - predators, prey, and any pollen or nectar in the area. Unfortunately, this slight shift in what scents she's made to pick up comes with a reduced sensitivity to pheromones and pheromone communication within the hive, along with loss of the general innate understanding that an average bee would have of how she's meant to "fit in" to a structure that utterly cripples her communication and social life in the hive.

It's minor enough of a mutation that she's never been flagged - she's a mutation of a social bee, not a normal variant of a solitary - but she smells weird, and she doesn't pick up on pheromones quite enough, and the variation in signals she puts off means that she both fails the communication to get across what she might need and fumbles the communication conveyed back to her about what she should do. Subtle things build up over time, and within the Hive, the negatives far outweigh the benefits - the Hive is only built with bees that fit to a standard in mind, and even minor deviations can get you dragged far, far behind.

This is getting very long so, uhh. Here's a cut. Everything else is below it. We enjoy getting very long-winded. There's a lot in here.

15. Worst thing they’ve ever done

Well, this one will depend on if it's "in general" or "by their standards". Putting any sort of objective moral judgement on just about anything is ridiculously difficult, especially with how values vary by culture or individual.

There is no such thing as objective worst, and we absolutely don't guarantee these would line up with your idea of worse, and so we'll offer two options here - what we believe they would think of first if posed with the question, and an alternative answer that would likely crop up.

For Kabbu, his own response would be easy - abandoning his teammates to The Beast. It haunts him to this day - really, what sort of beetle abandons their swarm to a fate like that? If he was a little faster, a little braver, a little less of a coward - but no. He abandoned those he was meant to care most for, and they died because of it.

For the other...

There are some things that are necessary, to survive somewhere as harsh as the Deadlands. Not everyone can be saved. Not everything can be helped. Not everyone can be taken in. Tradition and law is the heart and soul of the North - rules that everyone must comply to, if not for the sake of themselves, than for the sake of those they may interact with. To break a law, for any reason, is to be shunned by the community, most likely to your eventual death.

She broke a law. It could have been for understandable reasons, or not - it doesn't matter. She put the community at risk, and for that, she couldn't stay. She was put out in the cold, despite her pleading to the contrary. She was allowed to beg and plead and bang on the door, and yet, it meant nothing. The beast she would have lead to them caught up, eventually. He would still believe it was justified.

For Leif, his first response would be... exactly what you expect of him, really. The body he took without a care. The life he stole. He might vary on whether it's the action of stealing it or the lies he's told with that body, but the answer would be the same.

For the one he wouldn't think of... He could have spoken up. He didn't. He met their eye, slated for execution on crimes that he could parlay them on if he implicated himself, and he said nothing.

The look on their face still haunts him sometimes. It hurts more now that he's two, rather than one. It's what was needed to protect his family.

For Vi... a fault in a machine. The instructions were boring, and confusing, and hard to read. She tried to do whatever she thought might work, instead of following the manual. There was an injury. Then another one. It was her fault, really, for rigging it wrong, but she was tired and angry and she argued instead of just sucking it up and fixing it when confronted on it, and it went unfixed for days more. A minor fault can very well lead to deaths, and though this one didn't, it came close - one more inch, a slightly looser bolt, and it would have cracked a bug's shell clean open. It's a miracle it turned out as well as it did. It's a miracle that no one connected it to her enough, even when it was fixed. Someone else was punished, and she was old enough to know not to step forward - she's not stupid, after all.

The guilt still haunts her. The "what-if". The possibility of it. If someone died of her own stupid negligence, if she made someone else take the fall - she would let them, really, her sense of self-preservation isn't that bad, but she's not sure she could live with it after.

With the one she wouldn't think of personally... considering the background she's got, the journey to the Ant Kingdom, and the fact that it's already stated she took jobs before canon? We think there's a fairly good chance that Vi's off jobs got... shady. It's not like she has much in the way of morals when it comes to money, and "will do just about anything for enough cash" is a decent market. If you're willing to forsake your morals, you can get more money than your heart desires - at the cost of just a bit of risk, at that!

She doesn't think about it, really. It wasn't something she needed to think about. They were threatening her, they were a risk to her team, they were the price she had to pay to eat, the specifics of what happened don't matter much at this point. Put in the position again, would she choose their life, or hers? It doesn't matter. They're dead, anyways. She should know. She was the one to take the payment for it.

4. Favorite line?

We're copy-pasting these straight from the game! These Direct Quotes are all sourced from @aquilamage's Bug Fables Transcript project, which we highly recommend checking out! It's an excellent resource for double-checking dialogue without having to replay the game first, and a repository for just about all the dialogue in the game (provided it wasn't taken out by previous patches, of course).

We will be honest: there's a lot of dialogue in this game. This might not be our absolute favorites, as a result of a general poor memory as well as Too Much Game. Also, we have blatant favoritism towards Vi in all ways. Most of these are favorite interactions, rather than anything else, so...

For Leif:

Kabbu: Leif. If you need to take a break, let us know. Vi will carry you. Vi: That is not happening. Leif: Oh, the fatigue, it kicks in... Vi: I said it's not happening!

...and for Vi, we're fond of this dialogue, specifically because the first time we encountered it we misread "exploring" as "exploding".

Leif: Science looks like a lot of hard work. Vi: It's like uh...the thinking version of exploring!

But of course, our favorite Vi Dialogue as well as our personal favorite dialogue in the game in general would be the Bee Guard overworld spy.

Leif: Vi, you're the only Bee explorer, right? Vi: Huh? Uh, yeah! That I know of... Leif: We've been thinking it's a bit weird, to see so many Bee guards, but only one explorer... Vi: Look, they're not guards because they want to or anything, okay? Vi: They were born to be guards, so they guard. That's it. Kabbu: That's a bit somber... Vi: ...That's just how the Hive is sometimes.

"I'm allergic to bouncers" is a close second, of course. In terms of story implications, we pull on her Jaune interactions and especially the point just after getting kicked out of the studio for the first time during Jaune's request, but that's... it's less we "like" it, per se, and more that the implications are fun to toy with. In terms of the actual dialogue, it just... makes us feel sad. Sad, [], and maybe a bit angry on her behalf. We've been there more than we care to admit, after all.

We... wouldn't wish something similar on anyone. And no matter how good the good gets with Jaune, it still can't really outweigh the fact that the bad starts ticking boxes about emotional abuse in a way that makes relationships like Mothiva & Zasp that more people are willing to try and call out pale in comparison. We probably need to finish that essay some time...

Anyways, we like it when Kabbu gets mad enough to yell at people.

Kabbu: This is ridiculous! You realize you could be dooming us all!? Kabbu: What if the Termite King loses trust in the Queen!? Kabbu: What if you lose to the Wasp King without our help!? Kabbu: Have you gone completely, utterly insane!? Have you lost all intelligence! Mothiva: Yikes. You're overthinking this WAY too much. Mothiva: The Ant Kingdom's way better in our hands than with you LOSERS. Kabbu: We have SAVED YOUR LIFE BEFORE, you WITCH!