#below-depth

[canisalbus]

Happy birthday!!

I did some doodles of Vasco and Machete, they aren't the best but I love them and your artstyle so much so I wanted to try and show my appreciation for you. I love the contrast with how pointy Machete is, while Vasco is more smooth and round, its a lovely way to show who the characters are just by a glance. I hope you have a wonderful birthday!

[floralstorms]

“WELL WELL WELL BEING”

huh

[shisasan]

Hopes Die Last - The Wolfpack

[loopscereal]

trans friends hell yeaaaahh

i have this whole plotpoint in my head where they help eachother figure themselves out with their gender identities. After the animatronics have their fight, after camp, golden goes and talks with everyone directly about what happened during the fight and explains their side of things. starts witch chica since thats whats easiest for them, chica already had a lot of trust in them, and they do feel bad for breaking that trust, wants to apologize. bonnie was caught in the crossfire, didn't say anything during the argument, was just really really uncomfortable, apologizes abt the discomfort caused. then has to go talk to freddy and fox which are the who most difficult people to talk to since theyre the people who were outwardly aggressive. fox was the main person the fight was with, and freddy snapped out of nowhere from everyones point of view. ANYWAY. they talk abt a ton of stuff, roles in the band, Freddys envies toward golden, Goldens family and worth they've had to do, a ton of stuff and somehow they end up talking about gender cause i want them to goddamn it. point is. Freddy gets out of denial, Golden starts experimenting and finding themself and what they want. Trans friends. In my head this takes place on the every last day of their winter break, and the very last day of winter as well. and they start spring with a new view o each-other and themselves since spring is know to symbolize growth and change, renewal n all that.

the colors inside them also signify how they feel. freddys afab, goldens amab, they both feel very marked by their agabs, and theyre are few things they feel that even begin to step outside of that. Golden feels like their only non-masculine trait (in pink) is the bit of hair theyve grown out and the nails they file down, take care of and are staring to paint. theres also some very very slight dots and lines bordering all the blue in their main body, since theyre wearing some comfortable (literally and figuratively) soft sweaters and such which are just softer. less rigid, less masculine, for them. the rest of them is dominantly blue, they feel very male, like they read very male. their entire body has blue all over, their jaw, in their neck to represent their voice, and on their forehead which they feel is very square mas masc, so they try and hide it with bangs. thats why the tips of the bangs are pink. hiding a trait theyre uncomfortable with. Freddy feels like his only masculine traits are his hands and shoulders, and both things can come and go from time to time. overall, he mostly he feels like everything jsut in his head and theres no masculinity to be found in him fisically. his gender is just something he feels internally and doesnt show up anywhere on his person, so everything else is pink,. whole body feels overwhelmingly feminine, ends of his hair to signify hair length, neck to represent his voice, and just his entire body in general. both of them feel pretty bad, very stuck in their assigned boxes, and some permanent pressure to preform those roles. and idk i have yet to iron everything out, but freddy gets out of denial-land with himself and starts to be who he wants to be, letting go of a part of this facade of normalcy hes been trying to adhere to, which included being cis.

meanwhile golden realizes they dont have to be who theyve been told they have to be, gets to starts and figure out where the golden boy ends and they begin. how much of it is them and how much of it isnt, things like that.

they talk abt things, seriously gut themselves, then laugh at their own stupididty from trying to avoid the obvious (only ever obvious once youve gotten out of the headspace and can look bakc. hindsight is 20/20 and whatnot)

and they get to bond over their experiences and things can be less tense and weird, (cause of freddys insane insecurity driven envies twoard golden.)

tldr: transgendah. amen.

Daily doodle: #7

[beccawise7]

"The darkness of the ocean depths always call to me more than the shallows."

~beccawise7💜🖤

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday & WIP Wednesday

Tagging @direwombat @josephseedismyfather @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @raresvtm @imogenkol @noodlecupcakes @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @josephslittledeputy @cassietrn @g0dspeeed @aceghosts @cloudofbutterflies92 @derelictheretic @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @yokobai and @saynogrumpy + anyone else who'd like to join.

Music Monday for A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore, The UnTitledverse and The Silver Chronicles, with WIP snippets for the FC5 Harbinger AU catching up on what Saint Matilda is doing and a snippet for Life, Despair & Monsters WIP Sonya's Push, checking up on our murderous sapphics. Listen down below the cut:

First song for Marissa "Ress" Bishop from my Fallout series A Radioactive Calamity of Love, Bombs & Gore. Ress has had quite the adventures in the span of a few years for her lifespan; Leslie Anne Bishop's youngest daughter in the Bishop Crime family after an affair with Arcane Urias (whom was impersonating the Chosen One, Finidy Mona, at the time), grew up in a Bishop controlled New Reno, she was involved in the Enclave's fall in the Capitol Wasteland, as well as the destruction of the slave industry, swayed the tide of the Second Battle of Hoover Dam to Vega's advantage in the Mojave and was a key ally for the re-establishment of the Minutemen, the reworking of the Railroad, and was involved in the defeat of Maxson's Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel, the downfall of the Institute and the disassembling of the Raiders (as well as the Church of the Children of Atom), and avenging her dead friends and family by killing her father, Arcane Urias, in the Commonwealth. Even though Ress now has a few places to return home to (whether it be with her family in New Reno, friends in the Capitol Wasteland, Mojave and Commonwealth, or just Piper (and Nat) in the Commonwealth), Ress is first and foremost a wanderer and explorer, and isn't satisfied to sit around and settle down, especially after she fulfilled her vengeance over Urias. Though that's not to say it's a goodbye to her friends, family and lover, as though she's naturally inclined to go off to see the sights, she'll always come back to where her home truly lies.

Note: Honestly this song goes hand in hand with the other series (The UnTitledverse and The Silver Chronicles in particular), but those are usually in more grim or sinister tones, which this song is often used in, and Ress' is supposed to be more "yeah I'm leaving now, but I'll be back, I promise" hopeful sort of way, you know?

"We'll meet again Don't know where Don't know when But I know that we'll meet again some sunny day Keep smiling through Just like you always do 'Til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away

So will you please say, "Hello" To the folks that I know Tell them that I won't be long They'll be happy to know That as you saw me go I was singing this song

We'll meet again Don't know where Don't know when But I know we'll meet again some sunny day!"

Next song is for my Subnautica: Below Zero WIP, Subnautica: Deeper Depths, which is a kind of reworking of the base game but with combinations of the demo/pre-final release storyline as well as the things to expect from The UnTitledverse. Essentially the story is that, five years after the events of Subnautica and Planet 4546B now liberated from the Kharaa bacterium, Robin Goodall and Sam Ayou, who are half-sisters, worked for Alterra on Planet 4546B's arctic region (Robin as a fauna and flora researcher/expedition overseer on the planet's surface, with Sam as a supervisor on the Vesper Station, seeking to climb the corporate ladder), however, after an avalanche buries her base and leads Robin to seek shelter while injured, she discovers the Frozen Leviathan (and the preserved Kharaa infecting it), which subsequently gains Alterra's interest when Robin reports back and gets taken back aboard the Vesper. Robin quits after a disagreement with Sam (Robin, knowing the story of Ryley Robinson, thinks the infected Frozen Leviathan should be destroyed, while Sam believes the preserved Kharaa infection has the research potential to create medicinal properties that could help bolster Alterra's market and give them an advantage against competition). Three years later, Robin receives news that Sam has "died" on Planet 4546B, and her body was not able to be recovered. Robin, believing this to be bullshit, dedicates a plan to sneak back onto Planet 4546B, getting familiar with the dangerous terrain once more, almost like she's returned to her element. While ensuring she's not spotted by Alterra's Vesper satellite orbiting the planet, Robin only has two goals in mind: find Sam, and discover what shady business Alterra is up to. None of that included getting the consciousness of what is possibly the last living Precursor Architect stuck in her head... and his name is ALAN (or rather Al-An). This WIP also features the originally scrapped Ice Dragon, the possibly not dead Frozen Leviathan and my own creature, the Dweller, an underwater worm-like creature that appears to be made of some kind of Precursor metal, although Al-An himself claims that him and his kin had no hand in this creatures making. On a more horrifying not, the Dweller resides in the Dead Zone, currently circling the arctic region as its "nest" and has the potential to grow in size and length larger and longer than it already is (and it's pretty massive). Anyway, while this song is dedicated to the first Subnautica, I believe it fits Deeper Depths.

"It was hard to wave my home goodbye Looks like the waves are my home tonight As a kid, I dreamed of space Now I'm finally awake in the wake of the waves!"

"We make plans, think we know where we're going to go But fate's hand deals more than the cards it shows You could dream about the stars, you could crash and fall apart What's important is what you do with your time below

So you're out of your depth? So you're lost at sea? If you want to learn to swim, then you've got to be You may think that it's enough just to keep your head above But you've got to swim down if you want to breathe

It's a strange new world and you must survive Who says you need a map to thrive? Scan the wreckage for the parts, use the parts to build a path Doesn't matter how you fall if you land the dive

Habitat creating, it can be habit making So shake it up, you've got to do a little cavitating Can't build a shuttle if you're huddled in the rubble Yeah, you've got to make some bubbles, get a lungful 'cause the task is waiting!"

"It was hard to wave my home goodbye Looks like the waves are my home tonight As a kid, I dreamed of space Now I'm finally awake in the wake of the waves Never thought I'd have to find my place alone But now I know there's no waves like home As a kid, I dreamed of space Now I'm finally awake in the wake of the waves!"

"You know, I always thought I lived a pretty wild life And now I'm living here with all this pretty wildlife It's survival of the fishes and it's high tide And on the food chain, now my link is a mile wide

Crafting from my raft is an impractical reality With every asset I amass subtracted from my salary I know this package holiday was packaged with some tragedy But actually, I'm cracking on my back at the fatalities

I never thought I was born an explorer But now I'm one with the fauna and flora I never thought much of seafood before But tonight, we're having steamed clams under the aurora ("You know the universe has a plan for you!")

So just relax and maybe stack upon some lantern fruit I'm a naturalist you couldn't hold a candle to 'Cause underwater, candles really aren't the lamp to use!"

"It was hard to wave my home goodbye Looks like the waves are my home tonight As a kid, I dreamed of space Now I'm finally awake in the wake of the waves Never thought I'd have to find my place alone But now I know there's no waves like home As a kid, I dreamed of space Now I'm finally awake in the wake of the waves!"

"Everyone has a Leviathan coming But you can't live your life in silent running You know it's gonna get cold outside Break the ice, let the Sun in

As the path gets darker and deeper You might find there are sharks 'stead of peepers You may just wish to huddle with your cuddlefish But everybody has to dance with a reaper!"

"I need to keep my grip somehow I'm in some really deep ship right now I need to keep my grip somehow I'm in some really deep ship right now I need to keep my grip somehow I'm in some really deep ship right now I need to keep my grip somehow I'm in some really deep ship right now!"

"It was hard to wave my home goodbye Looks like the waves are my home tonight As a kid, I dreamed of space Now I'm finally awake in the wake of the waves Never thought I'd have to find my place alone But now I know there's no waves like home As a kid, I dreamed of space Now I'm finally awake in the wake of the waves!"

Last song is for SIlva's Hope from The Silver Chronicles. Resisting oppression is... certainly not a subtle theme that is conveyed in Silva's Hope (nor its prequel and sequel, La Última En Pie and Old Dusk respectively), and Silva herself is a character who is both the unstoppable force and immovable object when it comes to resistance: unstoppable force because she fights back against her foes, and immovable object as she never doubts resistance is not only the right decision, but the necessary one. Silva has a lot of experience in rebellions... more than she'd probably like to be involved in especially for her desire for a "normal life" that doesn't involve getting into such violent circumstances. And Silva, time and time again, makes the reminder that she's the "face of the Resistance" (in the sense that she's the most experienced fighter and tactician that gets deep into the front lines) and not the leader of the Resistance (as Jerome, Eli and Whitehorse are). This is especially apparent come Silva's Rogue Arc, an arc that occurs after Silva's PTSD renders her unable to fight in missions, and while the Resistance certainly have respect for her and consider her input while she's not in a state to fight, she knows the bad blood with Eden's Gate has left little room for Hope County's residents to desire putting efforts into a peaceful resolution that can end further suffering and death on both sides (not that Silva feels the Resistance are obligated to or even believes they themselves should be the ones to do so, considering Eden's Gate are the aggressors, and have been for a long time, however, in order for the plan she concocted with Faith's help to succeed, it requires the hope that, if Eden's Gate wave the white flag, then the Resistance would be willing to hear them out). She really doesn't like Joseph, though begrudgingly had begun to like John (who's "captive" in her bunker) and she really likes Faith at this point (plus Silva doesn't want to put Eden's Gate non-combatants - regardless if they're indoctrinated innocents or prisoners - further into harms way, like Kamski was willing to do when he nearly succeeds in gassing John's Bunker with toxins, which is a shockingly dark decision for him to make so easily considering in their past, harming innocents/non-combatants on the opposition's side was easily out of the question, though Silva likely doesn't realize that Kamski's experiences in their shared past shaped him very differently from how it shaped her). Without realizing it, in her Rogue Arc, Silva begins to rely on the old rebellion tactics she learned from Paul and the Tumultites who such tactics against the Congregation of Adam's Guard, from disruption to vandalism to destroying supply lines and property to taking certain figureheads either out of commission or hostage, and more, to not only gain the attention of sympathizers but the opposition leaders themselves and force them into a compromise to negotiate for peace. Silva has an understanding that the use of violence, especially in resistances, is not only an inevitability but also a justified necessity, but she seeks opportunities to resolve the conflict peacefully, especially between groups that used to be neighbors and friends.

The only time she doesn't consider peace an option is when it's against Adam Omar's congregation and his guard of enforcers, because she knows her biological father is, predictably, still an overzealous, narcissistic and prejudiced piece of shit who, predictably after literally a decade, willingly remains a spiteful asshole that surrounds himself with the worst inner circle of sycophantic psychopaths she's ever had the displeasure to even know (which is a high achievement, considering she's met her adoptive father's Apostle's of Zachariah, who were made up of slavers and war criminals). While beforehand, she and the Tumultites had to worry about avoiding non-combatants (especially since the Congregation regularly used their own civilians as a guarantee the Tumultites wouldn't do anything), when she does meet him again, Adam and his army of cronies don't have their civilians to hide behind, just prisoners and deserters. Anyway, ending my nonsensical rambling here, enjoy the song:

"I am a nation, I am a million faces Formed together, made for elevation I am a soldier, I won't surrender Faith is like a fire that never burns to embers ("Who's gonna stand up, who's gonna fight?") The voice of the unheard ("Who's gonna break these chains and lies?") Love is the answer!" "I gotta speak it, believe it, that's how I feel inside!" "("I"), I ("can't"), can't sit here quiet!"

"You can take my heart, you can take my breath When you pry it from my cold, dead chest!"

"This is how we rise up Heavy as a hurricane, louder than a freight train This is how we rise up Heart is beating faster, feels like thunder Magic, static, call me a fanatic It's our world, they can never have it This is how we rise up It's our resistance, you can't resist us

("Hey!") Can you hear me? ("Hey!") Are you listening? Sleeping in the shadows, could be making history Walk through the fire, walk on the water Used to be a slave, but now you are a conqueror!"

"They can take my heart, they can take my breath When they pry it from my cold, dead chest!"

First WIP snippet is revisiting my Far Cry 5 Harbinger AU and catching up with Saint Matilda while she's in the custody of the Cougars in the Henbane, after surrendering to them outside their gates (stained in blood of course), with Tracey and Whitehorse discussing about her. Read below:

"Do you recognize her, Tracey?"

Tracey kept her gaze trained on the eerily calm woman in the upper cell across the other side of the railing where she stood. Her arms were folded across her chest as she leaned on the railing, brown eyes narrowing at the prisoner clad in deeply crimson stained white dress and black apron.

She almost looked like an Angel, with how unfocused the woman appeared, overdosed on Bliss and unaware of the reality around her. But angels didn't have hair, and their foggy eyes never retained such sharpness, not like how the woman's only visible amber eye was.

Tracey wanted to compare the feeling of how Faith could act in the Bliss, but she couldn't. As much as her former friend had changed for the worst, and as uneasy and angry as she made her feel, Faith wasn't covered in blood (even if she washed her hands of it), and she could at least see the herald's whole face.

Every tic, every dart of eyes, every quirk of her lips. Every contemplation that was happening behind those pretty green eyes that flashed in her mind like a pleasant dream that slowly soured into a nightmare.

Faith was a skilled liar, but she couldn't fool Tracey. Not again, at least. And liars had patterns. They had habits, especially when nervous.

But she could see none of that on their first detainee's visible face. Just observing her surroundings, sat on the bed against her cell wall, as she waited in stillness. Something about it screamed wrong.

She just couldn't put her finger on it.

"No," Tracey huffed as she answered, turning her attention to the old sheriff beside her, "Doubt she was around when I was with the Peggies. Or at least anywhere close to where I was stationed. And she's not hard to miss, considering...."

The mask, the eye, the dress and apron, the unnerving feeling that something about her was off, were all echoed in her head, but left unsaid from her lips.

"Is that your certainty that she's aligned with Eden's Gate?" Whitehorse asked next, hoping to get a confirmation.

Tracey, however, shrugged, shaking her head, "Never said that. My answer was merely based on the presumption that she is a Peggie. But honestly, I find it hard to believe she even is, despite only having her word."

Whitehorse exhaled lowly, glancing over to their person of interest with a concern. Tracey followed his gaze; finding that he was staring at the woman's palm, which still slowly bled from the cut she inflicted on herself before surrendering.

The fact she refuted all opportunities for first aid didn't set well with Tracey, especially now that the woman sat idly on her bed staring at the wall, occasionally glancing out her cell, hands clutched tightly together on her lap.

They hadn't taken the mask off her yet, especially since it only covered half her face and her most visible features should have been more than enough to identify her.

She was curious what their prisoner was hiding underneath it, if there was anything to hide in the first place.

"Did she give her name at all?" Tracey asked the Sheriff, frowning when the woman's sole gaze lazily shifted towards her and Whitehorse across the other side.

The dead, unfeeling stare gave her the chills. It felt like she wasn't even considered a person in this woman's eye. It felt worse than how the angels stared at her, honestly.

Nothing alive and without a dosage of Bliss in them should be capable of that.

"She claimed her name to be Matilda when I visited her," Whitehorse answered, though added as he recalled, "Well, "Saint Matilda" is what she called herself. Asked around the prison if anyone knew her by that name in particular, but only got negatives. If she's lying, we may have a Jane Doe on our hands. Though we don't even have the comfort of knowing if she even is lying or telling the truth."

Their captive, Saint Matilda, returned her gaze back to the wall, barely blinking as she waited. White dress still covered in splotches of red.

"Not that it matters as much," Whitehorse admitted, noting the most prominent description about the woman as Tracey had, "Affiliated with the cult or not, she's evidently dangerous. Best she stay in that cell for our safety."

Tracey only nodded in agreement. Though she mused on the woman's name.

Saint Matilda.

Back in the short time she was a Peggie herself, Tracey had only heard the cultists be referred to as "brother" and "sister", including Joseph's siblings, with the cult leader dubbing himself as "the Father" of course. She rarely heard of any other titles, with even the priestesses and chosen only referred to fraternally and sororally. So the mention of this Matilda referring herself with the title of "Saint" waved red flags in her head.

And considering the "Saint" in question hadn't given an explanation of whose blood she was splattered in, Tracey has doubts the title holds much weight in reality, much like the cult's preaching.

Here's Jennifer and Sonya once more from Sonya's Push, where Jennifer informs all of Dicko's business partners and important employees that there's been a change in management, and to ensure all signs of discontent are heavily discouraged with the presence of her newest "partner". Sonya is present but she's only been alluded to in this snippet. Not my most perfect writing but I'll refine it when I have the time. Read below: [CW: Mild derogatory words thrown at Jennifer]

Jennifer stood at the front of the long and wide table, her new golden dress glittering to draw all attention onto her. She was furthest away from the two-sided door, looking across the filled seats full of familiar board members and business partners who were all affiliated with the late Dicko.

They all stared at her with a mix of confusion and curiosity, though she expected that - after all, Dicko usually headed these emergency meetings, not her. Although, Jennifer was not blind to the underlying shameless lust present amongst those younger than their senile cohorts. Said cohorts did nothing to hide their ogling on her form either.

Worse yet, she's previously fucked a few of them before under Dicko's orders - a reward of some sorts, sometimes even blackmail, for those that worked with him. A rather inconvenient disadvantage when making a grab for power before anyone else does once they realize the truth.

Unlike them, she at least had the comfort of her trump card present in the room with them, unbeknownst to the crass and greedy bastards before her.

All she needed to do was cow the majority into submission with the threat of losing profits (and their lives) should they try to take charge themselves rather than hand over Dicko's authority to her, with accessibility to their assets intact.

It should go swimmingly, however Jennifer knew life wasn't fair; it hadn't been fair two nights ago, just like it hasn't been fair in decades.

Jennifer's main point of worry were rather two individuals in the room; Chairman Ross and Maxwell Carmen, the former a long-time business partner of Dicko's, a leading officer of the board in Crawford Pharmaceuticals with ties and much sway over Crawford Klaus himself, and the latter was Dicko's finance director who oversaw and managed much of the mans financial assets, and acted as a representative for the business with other corporations overseas.

Ross sat at the other end of the table, while Carmen sat on the end closest to her. Whereas Ross was bald, face sagging from age and was rather wide and stout, though that aspect of him gave him a size and strength advantage as Jennifer had found out her first time with him, Carmen on the other hand was younger than the chairman, with neatly combed hair, a conventionally charming face even if he was of average build. She's never had to service Carmen, thankfully, the man was usually too busy handling business overseas to stay for long.

While Ross was dressed in the most proper of professionalism with a face that always appeared sour, Carmen was simply dressed to impress with a small, and likely, false smile.

Knowing Ross, he'd call her a whore and dismiss her words altogether... the man was the closest person to a friend to Dicko, and was unlikely to take it even considerably well that she of all people was taking over the man's businesses.

As long as she used her blackmail on him wisely and with sufficient motivation from her newly acquired attack dog, Jennifer was hopeful that she could retain a level of cooperation from the geezer to allow her to funnel the best drugs into their markets. As for Carmen, she hoped that pandering to his notorious greed could work in her favor.

"As long as the green flows into his bank account, Maxwell will remain loyal to the highest bidder there is," she recalled Dicko's words when Carmen started gaining a reputation.

With attention on her, Jennifer glanced to the ceiling before closing her eyes and letting a low exhale out. May as well get formalities out the way.

"Thank you all for attending this emergency meeting under such short notice," Jennifer began, earning her even more confused and concerned gazes from the members present, "I'm sure you have questions-"

Ross scoffed a noise on the far end of his table, grumbling something derisive under his breath as he kept looking back to the doors in the room. Probably waiting for Dicko himself.

"-as for the reason behind it," Jennifer continued, a little tightly from Ross' dismissive display, addressing the other members, "I'm here to answer that and more. As I'm sure you have heard, there was an incident a few nights prior during one of our Beastie tournaments-"

However, she was cut short by Carmen raising his hand as he leaned forward, asking the obvious question only she knew the answer to, "Sorry for the interjection Miss Jennifer, but shouldn't Dicko be heading this meeting instead of you? If I'm not correct, an incident on the scale of a malfunctioning beastie and a significant loss in profits should be addressed by Dicko himself, shouldn't it?"

Jennifer recovered her voice in spite of Carmen's interruption, hoping to ease up to the news, "Yes, Mr. Carmen, usually Dicko would be present to address an incident of this magnitude. That is something I'm getting to in this report."

Carmen tilted his head curiously at her, almost like he was studying her, but thankfully said nothing else, politely conceding and gestured her to continue. And so, Jennifer continued to explain, "During the tournament in question, Dicko and I went to intercept a champion with a 17 win streak-"

She was interrupted once more, this time directly by Ross, "I've heard enough of this irrelevancy. Why isn't Dicko here?"

Patience thinning from hearing the man's grating voice, not helped by the addition the room's focus being turned from her to Ross or each other as they murmured amongst one another, a few outright looking bored.

"That's what I'm getting to-"

However, Ross didn't seem to really care what she had to say, "Oh, sure you are. Just as I'm sure Dicko's too busy to not greet us at his front doors the moment this meeting was called, like he usually does. Just cut the shit and either get to the point or go drag Dicko here yourself, woman."

While the other members of board waited expectantly with Carmen rubbing at his temples at Ross' crass behaviour, Jennifer's nostrils flared with irritation, blue eyes coldly glaring at Ross.

On second though, fuck formalities, Jennifer decided.

"Dicko's dead."

For a moment, no reaction erupted from the members in the room. A few continued to ignore her in favor of talking with one another, Ross still waited expectantly. Only Carmen froze upon hearing those words, his attention on her.

However, once the news registered across the table, the small conversations tapered off into a shocked silence as the members focused back onto her, and Ross' furrowed his brows as he finally processed the information. His face contorted into a sneer as he leaned forward, between outrage and disbelief.

"Dead? Dicko?!" Ross sputtered, staring between the faces of the other business partners and board members. To say Jennifer didn't take a particular joy out of his reaction wouldn't be quite honest of her.

As Ross jumbled his words together in a vain attempt at making a sentence, Carmen interjected once again, "Ross, just remain in your seat. Miss Jennifer, could you elaborate what happened?"

"As I had been trying to explain, Dicko and I had intercepted this champion to convince them to consider throwing the match in exchange of a fair compensation, in order to avoid losing a large sum of profits. Upon meeting this individual, Dicko had identified him as a former business partner of his from years back, by the name of Sir Enigma Malvolio."

Jennifer paused as she let the name slip, watching the men's reactions, hoping for at least familiarity with the name.

However, such reactions fell short; Carmen just waited for her to continue, while Ross and the other members merely scrunched their faces in bafflement at the name.

Seeing no one hear had intel on the - for lack of a proper term - "man", Jennifer proceeded, "Malvolio held no interest in the alternate deal, and proceeded uninterrupted towards the latest match with his beastie in tow. A beastie, referred to as the Apex, that's design was unlike the regular ones. He would win this match, and Dicko had wanted to privately make an example out of him."

Jennifer left out her involvement in the attempted disposal of that freak, as well as her brutal failure against him and his security, not wishing to let these fools know of the danger she had always been capable of.

Additionally, she decided to not let slip that Dicko had reached an agreement with Malvolio which involved being trafficked to only god knows where with that under that disturbing bastard, and the subsequent reason behind the beastie's release.

Instead, she opted for a white lie, "It's assumed this Malvolio had unleashed his beastie in some kind of rampage with a certain sentience that did not require a link, as a means to cover his escape. It massacred many of the staff and the betters still present, with Dicko counted amongst the casualties, before it was eventually stopped."

The shocked silence would have been deafening if Jennifer had not expected this, and was emboldened to take advantage of such response, "Which is why I call this meeting. As to date, Dicko had left no will that would pass down his assets and position to a worthy successor should something have happened to him, and I doubt he ever intended to. Now, on one hand, you can all fight amongst yourselves for whatever claim you can milk out of Dicko's fortune and resources, leaving his operations to either fall to dust or be found out by local authorities during the time wasted over such arguments."

"Or," she said, grabbing many of the board's attention, including Carmen himself, "You hand over such management for me to handle. And we can continue with business as usual. You'll still receive the profit you earned for your contributions, and perhaps more under me. Dicko's death should not detriment our market, and he wouldn't want us to render his legacy to oblivion."

It was reaching, but Jennifer had hoped that the fear of losing the flow of green and being offered a convenient solution that would cost much time and effort would swing them over to her side.

Carmen certainly didn't seem disinterested, and there were a few who considered her offer and those that were somewhat relieved by an easy option.

However, there were still those whose greed wouldn't be satisfied until they had more power, with Ross amongst the most gluttonous of such lust and hunger.

"Out of the question," Ross spat out, baring his less than pristine teeth at Jennifer, causing her to restrain herself from unsheathing the claws underneath her finger tips, "What makes you think that you can just up and take Dicko's seat, hm? I know the man himself would never allow such dishonesty to slide. Especially from his whore of all people."

Jennifer leveled Ross with a cold glare as she countered, "I've been by Dicko's side for almost six years now. I've been there to overlook every and all of his projects thus far. I know information he personally shared with me that he certainly wouldn't share with any of you - including yourself, Ross."

At the older man's offended scowl, Jennifer smirked internally, before continuing, "I may not have a history of experience to prove myself to you, but I do hold sole knowledge over documents and pass codes that will take you years to figure out but would only leave me a few hours to scour through. Amongst everyone in this board, I am the closest person to a successor that Dicko has. We cannot let business run dry. You want to keep your money? That security- the luxury he gifted you? The only way you'll retain that is with me."

That seemed to earn her more consideration and reluctant acceptance from a few of the doubters, though at least Carmen seemed onboard, or relatively fine with the new arrangement. But Ross still held firm.

"I don't think you understand, girl," Ross growled out, "Regardless of what knowledge you supposedly hold, you aren't the one who makes such a decision. I won't stand for this, and I'm sure many of my fellows here would agree that you're not fit for this. I'd rather have someone I trust to keep his word rather than a bipedal lapdog that's only ever stood by and looked pretty when not catering to the needs of her master, including some of us here."

Ross stood up from his seat, settling his hands on the table as he leveled a surly gaze on her, "What stops this board from calling our security to boot you off the premises altogether while we sort through this mess ourselves?"

Instead of feeling threatened, or responding indignantly, Jennifer allowed herself to smirk openly, much to Ross confusion. There's the perfect opportunity for her cue.

"I'm glad you asked, Chairman Ross," Jennifer stated with an insincere politeness, "Shall I show you?"

She gave a nod to the ceiling, the signal they both agreed on, and true to her word, the beastie unveiled her camouflage, the sleek metal and red optic, quills and odd protrusions, along with the uniquely alien design altogether, both familiar and hard to miss.

The Apex's three tail talons shot out along the walls behind Jennifer, who stood unflinching, and onto the middle of the table, alarming all the board partners to the presence of the beastie. Carmen was stiff in his seat, and Ross collapsed in his upon seeing the creature

With such magnificent flexibility, the Apex twisted and turned as she expertly slunk behind Jennifer. The blonde opened her palm out beside her, near the Apex's head. The beastie did not immediately get the cue, at least, that's what Jennifer thought, but eventually she must have understood the gesture, and humored Jennifer's display by resting her sharp chin on the dainty hand. Whirred out a sound - not speech as they both agreed before the meeting - similar to a purr just to sell the lie further.

"This is Malvolio's beastie; the Apex," Jennifer introduced the cowering men to the creature, "This is the very beastie responsible for the incident nights prior, the one that claimed the lives of several of our staffs, patrons and Dicko himself, and if it weren't for my actions, would have resulted in more irreparable collateral that would have gained unwanted attention."

"As you can clearly see," Jennifer caressed the sharp jawline of the Apex, the beastie playing along and leaning in to the touch, "I am its master now. Which means it follows any command I give it, and only my command, which includes prioritizing my life either by defense or offense. Meaning, it will protect me from any and all perceived threats. Now..."

Jennifer leveled a heavy gaze on Ross' shrinking form, who seemed even more terrified as the Apex's sole red optic glared towards him as well.

"...are we all at an understanding and agreement in regards to my management over our dear late Dicko's enterprise?" Jennifer asks with a raised brow as her deadly blue eyes Or shall I leave all of you alone to think it over with our newest friend? I must warn you; I can't guarantee how well it'll react over a long period without its master."

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

hello hello there !! sorry i've been gone, life's been kinda nutsy @__@ BUT but . i have art in return !! lots of it so ... expect a lot of posts .... 😭 first off though : executable home / xhouse stuff :3 i got full custody of the verse in the divorce lol so hopefully i'll make full design refs for everyone soonsies! these are just fake screenshots (wish they were real though)

[etproditum]

Heya Objectified/COTH communities! I'm currently developing a fancomic set in Ankh with my buddies @chloro-form-roc and @cheyezstuffz! It's called Objectified - Dusted Depths

It's basically gonna be like what if Objectified was set in Ankh instead of The Rings with some alterations.

We are currently looking for people who can make storyboards/manage socials, preferably those who have Discord so the full team can actually converse and make ideas.

To join the team, you must send examples of your art and some ideas you've been keeping in the back of your heads, you can send them to me, Chloro or Chey on Tumblr, any one of us works. You can also reblog this with examples of art attatched.

I hope to see you all soon, until next time folks!

[sarasometimes]

What do you Fear?

a lot tbh the world is scary n i love fear n being afraid lol

but im straight up terrified of the ocean. specifically the deep ocean. theres fucking monsters down there dude we dont have any fuckin clue what lives down there n its what like 70 percent of our planet? n we just dont fucking know whats going on?

like have u SEEN an angler fish?? horrific

[its-elvie-innit]

The firework burns.

Tubbo is standing, and he is staring, and the sweat on his warm body freezes him dead cold, rigor mortis. Technoblade is standing in front of him, and in front of a crowd, sandwiched between the two.

Tubbo is pressed shoulder to wall, yellow concrete and blue sky, enough room to step sideways and no more. Six people out of a crowd of thirty stand up, and he can see half their arms and heads.

The presence of three people beside him, where he can't see, the impotent squeal of the microphone when it starts screaming too loud, the heavy breathing he can hear in his ears- it's his own, but he heard the echo of it through the speakers. Smell the alcohol, a memory breath in his nose

Where technoblade pulls back the crossbow, imperceptible anxiety twanging between his fingers, and a nervous grimace on his face, tubbo pulls back his arms, voice higher in his begging like he's being held by the throat, higher and higher, screaming for

Boom, no sound, no squeal of tinnitus like a bomb during the war. It's so close. He thinks that because it was so close, his ears had no chance to absorb the sound in his little concrete echo chamber, to eat any of it before they were too satiated to hear anymore. It's gone

The nerves behind his eyes have no chance, either. He only feels it on the edges, where any of them are left. All of a sudden he's grateful there's not nerves on the inside of the body.

He remembers, suddenly, that there are. And he can name every one.

The sky is blue, there's no more people standing up, only, two on either side, and no, they're gone now- sparks, flashes of blue, gone, dead hit, and technoblade is turning around in a big mass of pink red and yellow. The sky starts to spew, and he notices: the people who weren't standing are running. There's more arms.

He stumbles to the side, and the concrete is hot like a stove. He wonders if he can smell burning. Tubbo wonders why the concrete was so close, because he swore it was further away. Wonders. Questions. Think? He blinks, but he's pretty sure there's not another eye to move. Tubbo can feel his hands. He moves one up to touch, a little scared, and feels warm blood near his mouth. There's still no sound. a silent movie. There might be a body next to him. He might throw up. He stumbles, the fence keeping him in isn't there. A chunk hits his calf, hit, past tense, what time is it. Turbo stumbles. Everything is much closer and much farther away than he thought. There's big bits of yellow ash stuck to him. He registers it's maybe in his mouth too, and desperately thinks of his water bottle behind the podium. He needs water. It's in his lips. He registers the stinging from what is maybe the dust landing in his face.

Not on. In. He needs water. He is going to be sick. Tubbo steps forward, but the big fuck off piece of wooden fence that is charred and burned his foot is too, way too close , he stumbles and catches himself in a turn. Where is everybody? They are behind him, he gets a good look at the cage with it's top blown off from the firework, and oh, yup, that is quackitys burned corpse. That is arms. Tubbo realizes that Halloween props aren't that far off. He is turning, still, and dazed-dizzy. His feet fall out from under him on that big piece of wood, again. Oh. Oh. Oh no. He is falling.

The cage was very near the edge of the podium.

Tubbo knows, knows, they did not put a fence on the podium.

There is water underneath him, maybe. He does remember the water. There is a waterfall underneath him, maybe, and the dais is getting very far away now. His arms fling up beside him like a ragdoll and he gets a very good look at his missing fingers. There is a bit of blue and white striped paper deeply melted into his arm. He is sick in his mouth. There is a loud sound, he thinks, he can't really hear. He is fal

Tubbo never, ever, made a water bucket clutch.

Tubbo respawns, slowly. Maybe his fingers will still be there. He looks. The firework fuse string is embedded above his wrist.

[storiesoflilies]

i just read “the vegetarian” by han kang last night and i have so many thoughts and feelings about it, but i just don’t have the literary analysis brain to properly put it all together in a coherent way.

[bending-sickle]

starting to suspect that it’s not that i’m anxious it’s that i can’t breathe through my fucking nose. again.

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

I will not be promoting Maggy, she will remain the eternal staffer for the entire campaign

why tho?

[tes-trash-blog]

Omg so I'm coming to you bc Im making a quiz rn about the elf races in TES and one of the questions revolves around animals and I'm having a hard time thinking of one to assign to snow elves. I'm trying to think of animals that live in snowy or cold environments, specifically ones that live in modern day skyrim but I can't decide. So the question is, what animals do you think would have been significant to the Falmer? I was thinking maybe a wolf or a whale because of its long lifespan and conservation status.

Oh goodness, just one animal. That's a tough one!

If I had to absolutely choose from canon, my first instinct says the vale deer for the modern day Falmer: it's an animal that is hunted down and killed yet persists, albeit changed from years spent in the darkness.

The Ancient Falmer are a bit more of a challenge. What would differentiate them from the Altmer and Ayleids while maintaining the whole Elven aesthetic and Aurielic belief? Gyrfalcons and goshawks feel a bit too on the nose, but have an undeniable appeal because they follow the Elven/avian motif and they're just so damn pretty.

Not even bringing up my Mary Sue Snow Elf whose name basically means "little blackbird (affectionate)"

Wolves are also up there for me, especially with the Mara as Wolfmother headcanon, though I see this more as a guardian role. Mara gave up her divinity to watch over her fathers' favored ones.

Snow whales also deeply appeal to me, and I can see their fates inextricably intertwined: Both were mythical, and both were eventually hunted to hell. As with the Falmer, the snow whales are no more.

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

yknow what . i like you . shows you my exe ocs and also gives you little summaries of them underneath the read more cut and in the tags :3 ( desc in alt text 4 the 1st img ! ) - Nicky 🌊

in order: Rawr.EX3/EXD (any) imagine sonic.exe + 2010s sparkledog raver culture . that's Rawr. she likes waffles and is a virus exe who lives in a bootleg rom pack of the first 3 sonic games & a sonic crackers prototype Itazura, Guardian of Mischief (she/they/it/plush) first ever pc port oc!!! what it says on the tin. secret 8th guardian who loves nothing more than causing problems and playing life-threatening pranks on people. you can tell they're after you if you hear what sounds like jingling bells and giggling around your house in the dead of night. oh and plush's kyofu's kid 👍

Sew (any, no she/her) amorphous dimension travelling critter that uses sewing / crafting to make it's "skin" , typically based off of pre-existing people in the dimension. saw sonic and his super form and thought he was the COOLEST thing alive, so it chooses to resemble him :] Sink/Waterhog/Nicky (we use he/it but it doesn't rlly care /ref) literally just me lol , but from a 3rd person perspective he's a personal take on Mr. DJ's "Sink Sonic" concept . he's like 12-13ish and has way too much lore for me to summarise but fun fact : worldbuilding wise, he's a mish-mosh of the games, the Shogakukan sonic manga and a little bit of sonic x sprinkled in. :3