#hypothoses

[dystopia-daily-trash-1]

Dan and phil need to rectify the floorplan sitch before I go on a multi day extravaganza of analyzing videos to write an essay on why they actually have a second house, based solely on the doorframes

[seo-changbinnies]

6k followers?!

[who-is-muses]

@hopecerulean | Memeless Starter [ ALWAYS ACCEPTING ]

There were few people in this universe that Blaize Barone could say she fully hated. Disagreed with, disliked, rubbed wrong with... but not hate.

Blaize hated Sinestro.

Everything that he stood for, the progenitor Yellow Lantern. The plague of fear and terror that spread across the universe at his beck and call... there was little more Blaize hated than the Yellow Lantern Corps.

So how did she end up with Sinestro himself in her care?

💙;; "Hold still." Her voice was kept level, almost cold, but not abrasive. It would almost sound gentle, to the untrained ear. "I can only heal you so much. Without a Green Lantern to assist, my healing powers are... minimal. But I'm sure you already knew that."

Pain. That's all he can register, all there is to register at first. Not the familiar, grounding ache in his bones more faithful than any supposed ally- but burning agony which fights to wrest his consciousness away from him again. His arms, his legs, his ribs-

His eyes. Collecting enough focus to will his eyes open, he's rewarded by a stab of bright light, prompting a wet hiss and jerking loll of his head away from the source.

A voice- quiet and unimpressive but no less patronizing, though he struggles to make sense of what it says. He's content to ignore it and instead focus on getting his traitorous body to obey him, forcing himself through the pain- until those damn words instantly cut through his daze, stoking the fire ever burning within him to an inferno. Pushing himself upright with one hand on the ground, he blindly swipes the other at where he thinks the voice came from, instinct and rage rather than thought directing his ring to enhance the motion with a construct.

But he doesn't register if he hit anything, if his ring reacted- if he even has his ring- when an undescribable sensation scalds through his nervous system and boils his mind in an instant. After the back of his head collides with the ground once again and he shakes off enough of the new wave of spinning fog, he brings a tremoring hand up to the epicenter of that horrific feeling. His palm alone finds a cavity in his chest that most certainly shouldn't be there, a cavernous gash far deeper than it is wide. It's with abject horror he realizes this must have hit something vital, but he doesn't have the wherewithal to even begin hypothosizing what.

Lolling his head back towards the source of the voice, he wants to command an answer from this unidentified party. All he manages is a slight cracking open of one eye and a wheezing rattle.

[optiwashere]

What type of nerdy is Asheera when it comes to the Grymforge?

Is it like How can I make this better? Or

Gushing about what is already there?

I feel like it would be like a jock at a gym sizing up other people their and anime smirking to themselves hypothosizing how they can do better than them. But like in a more reverent way rather than like a smug wizard way. Like after Shadowheart waxes poetical about her Sharty cult, it's Asheera's turn to talk her ear off about what she would have done to keep the forge running to this day, preserving minthral veins for future use, having a Grym off switch so it doesn't have to be rebuilt each time. All the while her ruddy marbles sparkle for the first time in a while not just from the insane magma luminescence but from being able to be unabashedly passionate about something that is so definitively her.

She's too busy wildly gesticulating and pointing at fadded parchment and scribbled schematics to notice how Shadowheart's gaze never leaves her. How she thumbs the idol in her pack looking at the pure genuineness gushing from the half orc and wondering to herself. Why can't she have both?

Or maybe Asheera just likes the forge idk nvm

First of all, the vibes of this ask are immaculate.

It's a mixture of awe and mild disappointment because it's all been left to sit there. She'd never seen anything like it before, not even in the High House of Wonders back in Baldur's Gate.

To add onto that prior ask response here, this is something that would live well in fics as a brief moment. Something kinda like this?

She was a vision in battle and she spoke kindly of others, but Shadowheart couldn't recall a time when Asheera was this interested in something. She'd only known the paladin a short while, but the change was charming in its own way. Usually focused otherwise on the tadpoles and guiding the party through dangers untold, Asheera's eyes darted every which way in the sweltering heat of the colossal forge. Sweat flecked her brow, but she didn't seem to care. It was all second nature to her, Shadowheart realized. It was likely why she didn't mind being near Karlach when they all ate together. "The High Artificer back in Baldur's Gate will never believe it," Asheera muttered. She tapped her tusks against her lips in concentration. "Adamantine... there's mithral veins here as well?" As Asheera rooted around the long worktable, opening scroll tubes and sighing when dust was all they contained, Shadowheart watched while, beside her, Gale continued to cool himself with breaths of frost. Watched as Asheera unfolded schematics of some sort, a smile on her face as her eyes roamed every inch of parchment. The heat from the magma swirling around them in rivers warmed Shadowheart's face. Surely it was that. She thought of the stone idol Asheera had given her as they took a brief rest on the cliffs overlooking what appeared to be a massive temple to the Nightsinger herself. Where should I put it in camp? There's room for it... if I just move... Remembering the gift, her face burned again. All from the forge, naturally. The sound of a throat clearing next to her startled Shadowheart from her thoughts. Astarion examined her with focused eyes, not a drop of sweat on his face that wore a knowing look. "Why do you stare at me? Some of us actually still sweat, you know," Shadowheart said instinctively. "Oh, we're trying deflection are we?" A laugh tittered from his parted lips. He tapped his tongue on one of his fangs before continuing. "For your information, I'm not staring at you. I'm looking in your direction. You wear projection as well as you do all this dreary black." He walked away with a flash of a smile, giving Shadowheart time to curse him and his vampiric paranoia for seeing things that weren't there. It gave her plenty of time to watch Asheera scribble down notes, copying details from the schematics she pored over like a giddy adventurer who found a hoard of magical artifacts. Plenty of time to consider where the idol would go so that Asheera could see it in camp. That was a worthwhile gift in return, wasn't it?

An aside: there's also a Gondian temple in Waterdeep called the House of Inspired Hands (had to look at my old Waterdeep sourcebooks to remember that lol) and I like to imagine Shadowheart has to endure going there every time they visit Gale.

[shegore]

imagine if I made my Seiji solo main blog instead of just hypothosizing

[kabii-sims]

My brain is trying to stitch together a way to have Crusty Sean join the fray, and my hypothosized solution so far is to just drag his ass in a-la bear suit.

[blindside-butterbeans]

one thing i'm struggling to understand about kyle's gameplay is why is he SO adamant on protecting his showmance over his alliance. like what is it about alyssa that is making him fight so fierce to keep her

[dromaeo-sauridae]

wilbur....i come humbly asking....what knowledge do you have on....pterasaurs?

(im starting to think of os.mp designs and part of me really really wants to make wilbur's design smth like that)

(also! good morning🕺:])

goodmorning!! and oooo pterosaurs!! very cool dudes if you ask me. like most other prehistoric animals theyve gone through a lot of changes as we learn more about them. they range in size from about a one foot wingspan to the size of a small plane.

theres two major classes: basal pterosaurs and pterodactyloids. basal pterosaurs were the small ones, and usually insectivorous or ate other small animals. they had fully toothed jaws and long tails. (and looked more like a typical western dragon just small). pterodacyloids are more of what people usually envision when they hear pterosaur. they had bigger wings, longer necks and heads.

despite being shown as naked and scaly in jurassic world many depictions, they were actually covered in fine hair like filaments called ‘pycnofiber’

theres probably more cool stuff that i cant think of but if i remember it later i’ll add on!!

[janeyre]

coming back to elaborate that the doctor forgetting clara and everything immediately leading up to it is such a folie à deux. obviously every companion has to be written out some time but it just makes me so so sad that the doctor loved clara so much and he just forgot her. and the fact that that whole episode is framed by him telling her at that diner and he DOESNT KNOW WHO SHE IS is…… YEOWCH. if they would have taken one second extra to day “okay, we’re freaking out. neither of us have to forget. what do we have to do to stay alive?” they coulda worked something out. and they just. didnt 😭

[grayeyedandroid]

I made and ate pasta for the first time in like . 4 years and I have to say, it was pretty good

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Uncharismatic Fact of the Day

Snakes don’t have ears. What they do have are ear bones! These bones are one of the ways we know snakes are descended from lizards-- it’s been hypothosized as the common snake ancestor moved underground, it lost its ability to hear and so the outer ear disappeared. The parts of the ear that remained-- the middle and the inner-- were greatly reduced. However, middle ear bone became connected to their lower jaw bones! This allows snakes to sense vibrations in the ground and therefore detect nearby predators and prey as they move.

(Image: An eyelash viper, or eyelash palm-pitviper (Bothriechis schlegelii) by Bernard Dupont)

[iii9iii9iii9iii9-remade]

I’m not tryna be accusatory or anything especially since now is definitely not the time for arguments but I rlly truly wish some ppl would think before they post/rb certain things and take into account how it may affect those who are still very deep in mourning

[rjalker]

literally "eat the rich" by his current hypothoses. Don't add spoilers.

---

And then I thought once more of the meat that I had seen. I felt assured now of what it was, and from the bottom of my heart I pitied this last feeble rill from the great flood of humanity. Clearly, at some time in the Long-Ago of human decay the Morlocks’ food had run short. Possibly they had lived on rats and such-like vermin. Even now man is far less discriminating and exclusive in his food than he was—far less than any monkey. His prejudice against human flesh is no deep-seated instinct. And so these inhuman sons of men——! I tried to look at the thing in a scientific spirit. After all, they were less human and more remote than our cannibal ancestors of three or four thousand years ago. And the intelligence that would have made this state of things a torment had gone. Why should I trouble myself? These Eloi were mere fatted cattle, which the ant-like Morlocks preserved and preyed upon—probably saw to the breeding of. And there was Weena dancing at my side!

“Then I tried to preserve myself from the horror that was coming upon me, by regarding it as a rigorous punishment of human selfishness. Man had been content to live in ease and delight upon the labours of his fellow-man, had taken Necessity as his watchword and excuse, and in the fullness of time Necessity had come home to him. I even tried a Carlyle-like scorn of this wretched aristocracy in decay. But this attitude of mind was impossible. However great their intellectual degradation, the Eloi had kept too much of the human form not to claim my sympathy, and to make me perforce a sharer in their degradation and their Fear.

---

[romancestual]

every time a psychiatrist, an fbi agent or freddie lounds insults the chesapeake ripper by either 1. comparing him to dr. abel gideon or putting stock in chilton’s ‘professional’ diagnosis implicating abel gideon in the ripper’s tableaus, 2. hypothosizing/insinuating that the ripper is artless or purposeless or entirely stripped of sense/vision, 3. distorting the ripper and grasping at guesswork straws so they could gain fame or climb up the ranks, will is almost always insulted on his behalf. like during s1, not only does will instantly dislike chilton for attempting to study him, but he also resents him for offending the chesapeake ripper’s sheer artistry and meticulous sophistication... will turns caustic and biting and dare i say protective of the ripper’s tableaus. when looking at gideon’s mutilation of the nurse, he tells jack ‘i see the ripper, but i don’t feel the ripper. this is plagiarism.’ he’s literally embodying a rightfully obnoxious art history student who goes on tirades talking about the refined sensibility of his favorite (albeit problematic) artist.

[woahpip]

counting off time / doing their thing

baltie/coco

be the rarepair fic writer you wanna see in the world

*

Of course she knew what weed was! How dare Hapi assume something missing in her knowledge, especially something so…trivial.

Constance circled up with plenty of classmates over years, knees slanted and skirt slanted perfectly, usually in a classroom, discussing learning.

The circle around their ratty coffee table was different. She sat on the couch ankles crossed, peering over to Hapi on the floor packing a bowl. If she was going to do this, she was going to see each step. Memorize how it was done.

“Ok, if you want me to try and teach you how to..uh, breathe it in, before the boys get here, watch.” Hapi turned towards her with the bowl, cheap blown glass glowing pink in the evening sun. “Thumb over the little hole, lighter over the stuff. Light, breathe in.”

“Breathe in?”

“Breathe in Coco, you gotta inhale.”

Constance nodded, strands of her bangs sticking to her forehead with the force.

“Of course you have to inhale.”

Hapi already started. She looked like an expert, pulling up the smoke, breathing hard, and then puffing out silvery strands.

“No cough,” she lilted. She sat the bowl in Constance’s hand and turned away, cleaning up like she knew Coco would get it right the first time. Wouldn’t need coaching for something as simple as smoking weed.

(read the rest below or on ao3)

*

By the time Constance calmed down from her first try, her hacking subdued by a tepid beer Hapi shoved in her hand, Yuri and Balthus walked back through the door, cheap beer and bags of take out.

“Starting without us?” Yuri clucked, moving his way to the kitchen. Balthus settled into the couch, sinking into the corner. He bends one leg and stretches the other into Constance’s lap.

She gave him 5 seconds before trying shrug him away.

“How many times must I ask you not to put your feet near my face?”

“The other day when it was my turn for laundry, you made me wash every pair of panties you own. You can handle my foot.”

She hated his feet in her lap, not because they were gross or smelly; he surprisingly had some manners and never bothered her after workign out. She hated it because her it made her think dumb things, stupid things like when she overheard Hilda and Annette arguing about if he’s got big feet, than he’s gotta have big…

Each cited their sources well. They couldn’t come to an agreement.

That left Constance to think of her own sources, form hypothoses. She never got around to deciding on her experiment but today she decided maybe she should.

“Whatcha thinking about Co?” Yuri said very very very close to the side of her face.

She turned towards him and didn’t flinch. “About the pythagorean theorm and it’s practical uses.”

“Gross.”

He takes the pipe first and passes to Hapi, making her the last in their circle. She can’t decide if it’s a small blessing or just a longer wait to embarrass herself. The sun sunk just enough that she couldn’t blame it on a strip of errant light. Yuri talked to Hapi about his day, scooting to the cushions edge. Balthus turned the tv on, unpaused the nature documentary she had playing earlier.

“Test tomorrow?” Balthus shook his foot into her belly to get her attention.

“Please don’t,” she asked him, knowing it was futile and he would do it again. “Yes. Calc for Bio.”

He had the bowl now, blowing smoke and reaching toward her before answering.

“You always stress watch bears and shit when it’s numbers.” Constance rushed to answer but he's talking again before she can. “I’ll make you coffee in the morning, since you’ll cram or something instead of relaxing before class.”

“Ah…thank you.”

She stared at her hands, surprised she’s thankful for an excuse to stop talking. Hapi watched her, smile set to see if she messes it up again. Balthus’s foot was pleasantly heavy in her lap, a weight she’d miss. Yuri was still talking, arm brushing against hers each time he moved.

She flicked the lighter and sucked, breathing it in but stopping sooner than she did the last time. A small cough escaped her lips, but that’s it.

Yuri clapped slowly. “Congrats Lady. You’ve smoked a weed.”

“Hell yeah! Nice pull for your first time.” Balthus sat up, knocked Constance’s arm with his. He tilted his beer towards her. “Wanna sip?”

There’s no way she did enough already to feel it, but her bones felt melty like honey, her cheeks pink. Hapi smiled at her, a different one that said she knew something Constance had yet to realize. That was usually an unbearable look.

Balthus’s beer was cold and felt so good she decided to be nice.

“Since you didn’t…mock me when I had never tried it before…you get one game.”

Instantly he was out of his seat.

“Two games. One for thanks and one to make sure I don’t make fun of you for something else.”

The joke in his voice was apparent but her nose still wrinkled at the idea of him teasing her. “One game of beer pong. But I will finally follow your terrible rule of using beer instead of water.”

“It’s how you get drunk!”

“The ball is disgusting. It’s how you get poisoned.”

She followed as he went into the kitchen and made a show of rinsing the ping pong ball. He tossed it to her and winked, going his side of the table.

“Last winner usually goes first…but I’ll let you start this time.”

She got stuck staring at his face, which he mistook for quiet competitiveness.

“I see what’s happening. I’ll just have to bring it then.”

She was just thinking back to her experiments.

*

She lost the first and second rounds, but won after Hapi split a joint with her, the world progressing into melted honey. Yuri decided her prize should be a bite of everyone’s takeout. Balthus fed her straight from the fork and Constance pretended not to know why her face turned red.

[talesfromtheshatterhome]

The Jaegers were deployed. Diablos monsters were launching an all out attack while the monsters that went into hell were fighting against Diablo. Some monsters had come back. Being disqualified or rejected somehow perhaps. Humanity cared but could spare jo time hypothosizing upon the status of the tournament. All efforts were put forward to protecting the planet. There were a few points where the fabric of reality were thinner. These were where the hell beasts came from. And where the remaining Monsters on Earth went to fight. The Jaegers and the monsters from Monster Island were divided between New York and Nevada. Off the coast of Monster Island a new portal was opening.

Marshall Herc Hansen was meeting with engineers from Godzillas Earth. And a scientist nammed Dr Plavesky from a world yet unknown mostly to them. But his contributions to the development and engineering of mecha had been invaluable.

With his gelp they were able to develop a Godzilla cpu AI to input into Kiryu, rather than requiring tbe bones of an actual Godzilla to run the monster. Theh simply created a digital clone.

The next line of Jaegers were also bn near completion. Gipsy Avenger was ready to launch.

Finally. The development of mass produced Mobile Suits was giving Humanity an easier and less costly option than the Jaegers to continue the fight. The GM model was ready for launch. And just in time.

Monster Island was under attack