#i will blow you up just like all your stupid spaceships | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astridthevalkyrie · 6 months

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cw: afab reader + she/her pronouns, creepy stuff, yandere ig??, very very very brief and extremely mild use of phone as a vibrator, if you've seen gravity falls this is inspired by the soos and the real girl ep 💀

You pause and exit out of the app right as you open up the video call link, ignoring the twinge of guilt you feel at leaving during such a steamy scene. It's not real, you remind yourself, like you have a million times in the past month. A part of you wants to find the coziest corner of this library and play until you've leveled up all the memories you can and gone on all nine claw machine dates you're allowed to, but it's time to unplug.

Besides, you have an actual date.

"Hey!" your boyfriend greets as soon as the video loads up, grinning when he sees your face. "Are you in the library?"

"Yeah. Booked a room all for you," you tease, setting your phone down to focus on your laptop.

"Wow, I'm flattered. So what's been up lately?"

You sigh. "Nothing much. Same old boring stuff. What about you?"

He starts talking about his new job, the entire reason that you and he have been long-distance for the past few months. You're not going to lie to yourself—it's rough. It feels like torture, not being able to see him and hold him and kiss him. You've really, really missed him. That's probably why you've turned to dating sims of all things in the first place.

Your phone buzzes while he's talking, and your eyes flick over to the screen.

new text from alien boy <3

Your brows furrow in confusion. This app doesn't notify you about new texts, because they only come through while you're on the app itself. And you never just get texts, unless you've leveled up on affinity, which you haven't in the past half hour.

Whatever. Probably some new feature or event you don't know about yet. You turn your attention back to your boyfriend.

"—And my break will be in two weeks," he finishes his story, then smiles. "Which means in two weeks I'll be seeing you, pretty girl."

Eyes lighting up, you lean in so you can blow him a light kiss. "I can't wait. I already have the whole weekend planned out. We'll go to the park, the museum—I thought we could go canoeing if you wanted to—"

Once again, your phone buzzes.

alien boy <3: didn't we have plans that weekend?

Your stomach flips unpleasantly.

Huh?

"What is it?" your boyfriend asks, noticing your struck expression.

"N-nothing, just—this app I downloaded, it gave me a super weird notification. For a second, I thought it was, like, listening to me."

He chuckles. "Creepy. What app is it?"

"Nothing," you say quickly, not sure if you should even tell your boyfriend that you've found solace in fictional characters during his absence. "Just some stupid game."

This time when your phone buzzes, you jump a little in your seat.

It's not a text. Someone's calling you. Your shoulders almost sag until you notice there's no name on the caller id, just a small spaceship emoji.

"What the hell," you mutter under your breath, putting one finger up to the camera. Your boyfriend nods in understanding, leaning back and muting himself while you swipe and answer the call. "Hello?"

No answer.

"Hello-o-o?"

Still nothing. You almost hang up, until the barest of sounds makes your ears perk up. If you strain them and press the phone so close it's smushing your cheek, you can hear something. It sounds like someone whispering, but you can't make out anything.

"Hello? Um, your audio is super low, I can barely hear you. Hello? Can you hear me?"

With no change, you hang up, frustrated. It might be a prank call. You're in the library on a Friday night and there's barely anyone here, one of your friends might've thought it was hilarious to mess with you.

"Spam call." You shrug uneasily, slipping the phone down between your thighs this time instead of on the table. He nods in understanding, then starts saying something.

"You're still on mute, sweetheart, I can't hear you."

He makes an oh face, then leans forward a bit to use the mouse. After a few seconds, though, his eyes narrow in focus and he shakes his head. He looks up, mouthing can you hear me now?

"Nope. Can you still hear me?"

An affirmative nod. Weird. It's still showing that he's muted on your end. "What, is it not clicking?"

You see him look back up to the screen, whether to nod or shake his head, you don't find out, because the screen glitches out for a moment, and all you see is a door.

You shriek, clamping a hand over your mouth.

His face is back in front of you again, and you still can't hear him, but he clearly sees how freaked out you are, because he tilts his head up concernedly, as though to ask you what's wrong.

You didn't scream because of the glitch.

You screamed because you've visited your boyfriend at his new place before, and that door was his door.

"Can you hear me? Is your door locked?" He only looks more confused, shaking his head like you're the one who's muted now.

Your phone lights up before you can grab it and call him, and you gasp when it buzzes against your core and doesn't stop buzzing. It doesn't vibrate this much when you get a call, and there is no call on the home screen, nor text, nor any kind of notification. It feels like it presses itself into your skin more, and you grip the table with one hand at the brief jolt of pleasure before snatching it and unlocking the screen.

Before you can click the phone app, Love&Deepspace opens. You groan in frustration, trying to swipe up to no avail. Did you accidentally click on it? It wasn't even in the list of apps on your main page.

Movement from your laptop catches your eye. Your boyfriend's looking forward, but not at the camera. He's looking at—at something, and he backs up in his chair, looking terrified all of a sudden.

"What is it?" you say as loud as you can, but even if he does hear you, he doesn't respond, and instead, his mouth falls open in a silent scream.

The screen goes black, and then so does the entire library.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit." You look back down at your phone, ready to crack it if it doesn't swipe up and get out of this stupid app—

There's no one there.

Your heart stutters in its chest.

There's always someone in the Destiny Cafe.

There's no one there.

And on the little white armchair in the background, there's a dark streak of red dripping down and staining the cloth.

"What the fuck," you whisper, eyes wide. Your laptop screen flickers.

The facetime has been replaced by grey-blonde hair, that gently brushes against baby blue eyes with a soft, unassuming smile.

"You shouldn't pause me," he coos, "now, where were we?"

a/n: i hope no one tells me that people don't put their phones between their thighs while sitting bc i very much do. also. i'm talking to a guy on FT in the library tomorrow. hope i don't have gift of foresight. or maybe i hope i do muwahahaha. this is actually mad goofy and not scary at all

#love and deepspace #l&ds #lads #xavier fic #yandere xavier #xavier x reader #lads x reader #lads xavier #l&ds x reader #xavier #l&ds fic #xavier x you #xavier x mc #xavier x y/n #love and deepspace xavier #valkyrie stories

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mcyt-trios · 1 year

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PROPAGANDA:

Buttercups:

HAVE YOU SEEN THEM??? THEY'RE JUST XUTFGUIUGDYYDYRDTESARYTDUFIYGOBJOJ I- THERE IS NO WORDS. They are stupid together. There is 3 brain cells between the three of them apart (one shared between the three of them, two that are attached to Grian and mumbo) BUT TOGETHER THEY HAVE 0.5 BRAIN CELLS!!

These three give me so much serotonin. When Mubo came back to the server, they did a little reunion thing that was just so cute. Also F*cking with Doc is just hilarious. Only Scar and Grian broke the tunnel bore, but they still roped in Mumbo somehow🤣🤣🤣

they say “what’s up buttercup” to each other!!! they covered docs perimeter!!! they have special skins!!! they’re peace love and plants!!!

OG Sleepy Bois Inc.:

i love them so much crying wailing screaming theyre all so stupid theyre my childhood they dont even make a single collective braincell they love blowing things up and doing shit the hard way and using the wrong tools and they've launched a spaceship from a can of baked beans and it took them three tries with obvious on screen instructions and your honor they are iconic they're always together it's always them. im so sleepy

Just a father struggling to keep his twin sons in check, one of them eating sand and one of them (totally not the favorite) constantly out for blood. All sorts of chaotic

they’re like brothers ^_^

#mcyt-trios #mcytblr trio bracket #polls #round 2

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unfriendlyamazon · 6 months

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Noah 2.0

wrote this a very long time ago just as a kind of test for a story idea i had i never ended up following through on... but now i'm kind of feeling the kaiba trio and want to see more. anyway here's a wonderful conversation between two brothers who love each other and with no trauma between them

Seto paced back and forth as the computer ran its diagnostics. This was a bad idea. He should incinerate the thing, or launch it into the sun. Nothing good would come of fiddling with it, or poking back into the past. This was done with. It was dealt with. All Seto was doing was drudging up ancient history.

He was being stupid right now. But something itched at him, and his impulse control was never very good. Seto went to the machine, and he started it up, keeping an eye on the diagnostics as he did.The large screen in front of him flickered on, but it was only a blank screen that stared back at him. Maybe that was the answer. Maybe it was corrupted. Maybe there was nothing on here, and he could put his anxiety to rest. And then the screen changed, showing a bedroom, simple with four walls and not much else. Sitting on the bed was a boy, who fiddled with a toy spaceship. He looked up, green hair framing his soft face, and then he smiled.

“Seto,” he said.

“Noah,” Seto growled.

He looked up and around, seemingly taking in his environment for the first time. He slid off the bed and walked towards the screen, kicking at the rug that covered the wood floor. Behind him, windows let in sunshine, but it wasn’t quite right. Seto couldn’t make out anything beyond them besides blue skies. Noah paced around for a moment before addressing him again.

“What’s different here?” he asked.

Seto glanced at the readout. “The actual virtual environment was destroyed when you dropped a bomb on it. I think this is a back up, probably a remote source in case the data needed to be rebuilt.”

“Strange.” He touched the screen, and a flicker of melancholy moved his face. “Just like the old days.”

“Hopefully not.” Seto leaned forward, placing his hands on the console. “I haven’t finished examining this. At this moment in time, I don’t know if you’re dangerous or not. I don’t know if even uploading you now was the right choice, but I need to ask you some questions.”

“What questions?” Noah sat down in front of the screen, sitting crosslegged, like a school child ready to learn. “You know everything you need to. If our roles were reversed, I would’ve left you in a drawer.”

“That would be my first.” He glanced again at the data pouring out in front of him. “I don’t know how recent this backup copy is. You remember our meeting?”

“Yes,” he sighed.

“Do you remember attempting to blow up me and my colleagues?”

“Colleagues?” Noah laughed. “Your dumb little friends? Yes, I remember them.”

He nodded. “If this file backed up thirty-two minutes before you attempted several murders and what might in some contexts be considered a war crime, then I don’t really know what to do. In that moment you proved a very big threat against me, and Mokuba, and possibly the world. But if this backed up in the eighteen minutes until the system was destroyed, then that changes things. You went back for us.”

“I went back for Mokuba,” he said, crossing his arms.

Seto nodded again. “What is the last thing you remember, Noah?”

His shoulders squeezed together, his lips out in a pout. He did look like a child there, small and like he’d been caught doing something wrong in his kindergarten class. Like Seto’s recourse was going to be to ground him. Mokuba had given him a similar look so many times, defiant and annoyed.

“I stopped father,” Noah said, and his eyes went down. “I had to hold him there so you could escape. I had just enough time to say goodbye.”

Seto only stared at the screen showing him the data. He had to ask. If Noah managed to save himself, then surely…

“Is Gozaburo in there as well?” he asked. “I need to know, Noah. Has any part of him remained?”

“You mean besides me?” Noah offered a sad smile. “I don’t think so. I don’t think there’s anything past these walls. I can’t access anything I used to be able to, not the rest of the mansion, not my dog, not anything. I think it’s just gone.”

“The file’s corrupted,” Seto said, and he looked at him again. “If it was attempting to transfer data when the whole structure exploded--”

“That would do it.” Noah tilted his head. “Have I answered your questions?”

Seto let out a breath. “For now.”

“Can I ask one?” He leaned forward. “How is Mokuba?”

Seto felt his fists curl, but he steadied himself. Noah’s expression was one of genuine curiosity.

“He’s fine,” he said. “I’m not going to tell him about you. Not yet.”

“Right, of course.” Noah’s head dipped down. “You have to ensure I’m safe first. And then what will you do, Seto? If I am? If you can ensure I won’t infect your company, or try to steal your body again, or that I’m not Gozaburo in disguise--”

“I hadn’t even thought of that one,” he said.

“Well, you’re slow. But if I am safe, then what? What does my future hold as a floppy disk in a junk drive?”

Seto shook his head. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. This is not the last time we talk, Noah.”

“Of course,” he said with a sigh. “Back into the darkness. I say this sincerely, Seto. I look forward to talking with you again.”

Seto grimaced, and he shut off the screen. The machine continued to examine the disc he’d found. Too dangerous to leave overnight for just anyone to see. He should make some coffee. It was going to be a long night.

#i'd rewrite this entirely now #i had a lot of ideas i was throwing in a pot and i think i need to make a simpler dish for it #but who knows i'm thinking about them #my fanfic #noah kaiba

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myhandisfatemywordislaw · 9 months

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what if Brian was Bertie? find out in this fanfiction..

credit to @dripping-void for the initial idea

claustrophobia is a running theme of this fic. I do not have claustrophobia so let me know if I portrayed it badly but I did my best

Bertie had always been a little claustrophobic. Before, it hadn’t been much of a problem; a slight tightening of his chest in a lift, a quickening of breath in a crowd, but usually he could avoid situations he knew would be stressful or push down his fear long enough to get through it. But now? Trapped in the endless twisting tunnels every second of every day, the oppressive, humid air thick with the stench of death choking him, the rough walls seeming to close around him, at every moment terrified they would collapse and he would be trapped, buried alive with no-one to help him, Bertie couldn’t tolerate it anymore. Being with Tim helped, but even he had to tackle Bertie to the ground and hold him tight as he struggled while the others helped cover them in lead in microwave attacks. Dimly Bertie knew that being cooked alive was a far worse fate, but no amount of reassurance from Tim could stave off the inevitable panic attacks as he was trapped in a space even more confined than usual, bodies pressed desperately against each other until Bertie wanted to scream. So yes, he knew it was stupid and dangerous as he clawed his way to the surface like an infected ant, distantly he knew he could die, probably would die for his moment of madness and desperation, but he couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t spend another moment trapped down there. When he finally crawled out onto the dusty surface, desperately gasping air and crying with relief, he was trapped inside a bulky spacesuit he’d stolen so he wouldn’t immediately die (he wasn’t completely stupid, after all) but he hardly cared. He was free.

When the shell detonated, blowing chunks of rock from the earth and kicking up a ferocious dust cloud, Bertie suddenly found himself soaring away into space, and he thought vaguely that it seemed appropriate, it seemed right. Parts of the suit melted against his skin, burning then freezing the skin beneath. The Moon grew smaller beneath him; the force of the powerful bombshell could easily overcome its weak gravity. As Bertie lost consciousness, he made peace with his death; he just wished he could say goodbye. I’m sorry, Tim, he thought, as darkness flooded his vision.

When Bertie awoke, he had no idea where he was. He was lying in a hard white bed, parts of his body covered in thick white gauze. He looked around; the thick, heavy metal door suggested vacuum sealing. Was he in a pressurised dome on the Moon? No, that was stupid, the Moon Kaiser controlled those. Where, then? The room gently thrummed with energy; an engine? Was this a spaceship? That seemed the most likely. Why was here? He’d only been on a spaceship once before, when he was deployed to the Moon. Maybe they were taking him home again? His heart jumped in his chest, and he barely dared to hope. But where was Tim? He didn’t want to go home without Tim.

The door opened with a hiss of air, and someone entered.

“Hello,” they said softly. “I’m Everett. What’s your name?”

“Bertie,” he whispered. He swallowed thickly, realising how dry his throat was. “Where…” his head throbbed as he trailed off, looking around.

“You’re on a spaceship, Bertie. I’m afraid we’re quite far from where we picked you up now. It looked like there was some kind of war, and we had to get out before the ship got damaged any more. We’re going to stop on a planet for supplies soon though. For now, you should probably get some rest.” They smiled warmly and Bertie nodded.

“Okay,” he replied quietly, feeling very small and very tired, and he quickly fell asleep again.

He awoke to the sound of distant panicked shouting.

“What do you mean the front thrusters won’t fire?”

“I mean they were damaged and you kept putting off the full ship review so we haven’t had time to find and fix it, and now they won’t fire at full power, so we can’t slow down!”

“Can’t we just pull away from the surface again then?”

“No, we’re too close and don’t have enough fuel. We’re all going to die, and there’s nothing any of us can do!”

“No, there has to be something! What if we spin the ship around and use the rear thrusters?”

“Not enough time, not enough time!”

“There must be something we can do!”

“We are doing everything we can!”

“We’re out of time!”

A violent impact jolted through the whole ship and the metal screamed as it twisted and failed, and Bertie’s head slammed into the metal wall of the ship, and he passed out. Again.

He awoke gradually. When he touched his head, his fingers came away covered in blood. He stood slowly, leaning heavily on the metal wall, his legs shaking, and made his way to the exit. As he crawled through the warped metal, he tried not to think about the tightness in his chest. Where was he? Was it a spaceship? When he fell, gasping for breath, into the open air, he saw that he had been right; a small spaceship, its front half crumpled in the small crater in which it lay.

“Who are you?” someone called. He turned to see them, a person standing several metres away and looking at him and the spaceship with a look of disgust.

“I… I don’t…” he started to respond.

“What’s your name?” the person continued harshly, stepping forward. He stumbled backwards slightly.

“I…” he hesitated. What was his name? Who was he? His head throbbed painfully when he tried to think. He thought his name might have started with a B. Had it been Bob? Billy, maybe? “…Brian?” he said uncertainly. It sounded unfamiliar in his mouth, he didn’t think that was quite right either, but it would have to do for now.

Brian, as he now called himself, became obsessed with figuring out how the ship he had arrived in worked and took it apart and put it back together over and over, then began to wonder how he could create something new with it. The others of this planet did not care for technology, but he couldn’t let go of this; it was all that remained of where he had come from.

When they threw him into the sky, it seemed right to him, it seemed natural, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying as his skin began to freeze. Hadn’t this happened before? A name dragged itself to the front of his mind. Tim. It wasn’t his name, he knew that, but it was important, he was sure of that. Who are you, Tim? he thought as he lost himself to the encroaching cold.

It took a while for Brian come to terms with his new self. He didn’t look like himself at all; his face had already been scarred when he reached the planet, and Carmilla had been forced to approximate what he looked like from frozen flesh already damaged beyond recognition, and he couldn’t see any of his own features in the mirror anymore. His heart all that was left of him, locked inside a metal prison, and whenever he thought about it too long he began to feel trapped and claustrophobic, until he wanted to tear out his heart, just so it could be free.

“We have to save him.” Brian said firmly, with no room for argument.

“What- why? Why do you care?” Jonny replied irritably.

“He could be- he could be fun. He’s very good with guns,” Brian cast around for what might interest Jonny enough to agree. “He’s- he kills people, that’s fun, isn’t it?” Brian was so glad he was in ends-justify-means, so he could tell himself that saving this life was worth it compared to the hypothetical life that might be lost as a result. How could he tell the others, how could he tell Jonny his real reason that he wanted, that he needed this man to live. Looking down at him, even with his eyes burnt out, Brian knew this was his Tim, he was sure of it. He couldn’t remember who he was or why he needed him to live so badly, but he knew it was important, more important to him than he could ever remember anything being.

When Tim awoke and joined the crew, Brian burned with the longing for his touch, and when Tim spoke it dredged up a distant memory of Tim holding him and whispering reassurances. But it was like Tim looked straight through him, seeing nothing but a stranger.

Tim was quietly stalking an octokitten to prank Jonny with when he heard small, hitched breaths from behind a door, like someone trying very hard not to be heard. Abandoning his task, he crept closer, and carefully opened the door. It was Brian, curled up on the floor and quietly crying.

Static filled Brian’s ears and his vision glitched and blurred as he desperately gasped for breath with an awful mechanical wheezing, his hands clutched over his heart, trapped inside the metal cage that was his body. He was trapped again and he didn’t know what to do this time, his existence a prison. Vaguely, he thought someone might be talking.

“-ian? Brian? Are you- are you okay?” Tim’s blurred face was filled with concern and his hand hovered near Brian’s face, unsure whether touching him would help. Brian made the decision for him, grabbing his hand and pressing it against his cheek as he sobbed.

“Brian, what’s wrong?”

“I- I- I’m scared- can you hold me? like- like before,” Brian responded jerkily through gasping breaths. With that, he buried his face in Tim’s neck.

“Like before?” What did that mean? Tim thought back over his time on the Aurora, he had barely even touched Brian, let alone hugged him. But- well- wasn’t there something familiar about him? Something about his mannerisms, the way he carried himself, the way he walked, the smile he seemed to save just for Tim. “Bertie?” he breathed, hardly daring to hope.

Bertie. Yes, that seemed right, like it had been on the tip of his tongue yet just out of reach for all these years. “Yes,” he whispered. Bertie raised his head and looked with tear-stained metal eyes into Tim’s own mechanical eyes. Tim wrapped his other arm around his head and pulled him closer and they kissed, metal colliding with flesh.

#if you noticed timeline inconsistencies shhh no you didn’t they’re the mechs they can move through time in whatever direction they want #it works trust me #not totally happy with the ending. but oh well #bertie #gunpowder tim #drumbot brian #briantim #timbertie #my fanfiction #fanfiction #the mechanisms #cringed so hard trying to proofread it. hopefully it reads as less cringe to you guys #dragon.txt

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royallygray · 3 months

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On the way back from a trip, I watched Wall-E for the first time on the plane. I liveblogged it because i thought it would be great.

It was.

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR WALL-E :D

also I am Not sorry for the typos

also I was using it/its for Wall-E and Eve and then I started using ae/aer for Wall-E and she/her for Eve just fyi

ANYWAYS ENJOY THIS THING

-- -- * -- --

2:20 what happened to my precious wind turbines???? :(

also tf is the song at the beginning

3:00 WALL E??? OMG THEYRE A RADIO BOI

wait this is literally the plot of my original story

LUNCH BOX

cricket :)

4:19 he's made a city out of trash :(

there is a baby crying on my flight :(

WERE ZOOMING

buy large gas???

04:57 wait so Wall-E is a brand of robot that cleans things? what's Eve gonna be im excited

OH MY GOD THE LITTLE CRICKET AND WALL E ARE BESTIES

turbulence on air :D

Wheeeeeeeeeee

05:10 there's a dead wall e :(

05:20 OH MY GOD THERES ABOUT TEN ZILLION DEAD WALL-E'S AA

NOOO

MY BOI :(

05:51 "too much garbage in your face? there's plenty of space out in space!" fuck you don't pollute space that's our space. Maybe not your space actually but it's MY space and don't put your stupid garbage in MY SPACE

07:15 aww fairy lights :D

TAPE :D ITS A RECORD TAPE :D

There's a spork in the lunchbox

why is there a rubix cube in the lunchbox

omg it's confused about whether the spork is a spoon or a fork :(

and it just put it on its own spot

like non-binary people :)

:( it wants someone to hold its hand :( it wants company :(

THE STARS

nope it was smog and the dust on the screen. rip

wtf is blowing up????

the cricket!!!!

09:57 it hibernates :(

and it swings itself to sleep :(

Wall-E needs some sun. go look at the sun, starshine :)

THE WALKING INTO THINGS IS REAL ASF WHY AM I RELATING TO A ROBOT

that's a nasty looking sun

POWER GAINED LETS GOOOO

NOOOOAOWJQJHW CRICEJT MY BELOVED NOOOOO

CRICKWT COME BACK

cricket is alive :DD

omg the bra 😭

it's a collecter :D

ping pong :)

ENGAGEMENT RING?? DAMN

IT JUST THREW AWAY THE RING AND KEPT THE CUSHION BOX 😭

FIRE EXTINGUISHER LMAOOO

PLANT :D :D :D

PLANT IN BOOT :D

CRICJET

wtf is the red light

I don't like that

what is it

what are ALL THE RED KIFHTS

IM SCARED

WALL E NOOOOOO

mans just dug dug dug dig diggity

wtf is that

id be scared too if I were wall e

is that the big ship that was there in the beginning

omg such a great disguise 😭

EVE :D

eve seems very tech advanced

OKG HEAVENLY

WALLES JUST LIKE "ITS ANOTHER CREATUEE :D"

bro all that pollution came down to deposit one robot

walle does not look comfy

FLY MY DARLING

windshield wipers??? in the eyes??? 😭

girlypop is a weapon

what do eves beeps mean???

NO CRICKET NOOOOO

CRICKET YOUVE BEFIRNSSD EVE

NO EVE DONT KKLL WALLE

eve wtf was that

are Wall-E and eve actually human size?? and it's just. idk

rip Wall-E they're going through it

what is eve even doing

also she's got anger management issues

me trying to get close to my moots

eve speaks :)

classified -_-

SHAEKNF NAMES :D :D :D :D

she laughs :D

eve NOOO

cricket??? where's cricket???

walle took you to its secret hideout you better be appreciative

cricker got a granola bar

oh she's ashamed that she broke it :(

BUBBLE WRAP :DDD

rubix cube

TAPE PLS WKRN :DDDD

YAY

EVE CHILL

YES DARLINF

wait no

chill girlypop

its got new eyes :)

walles like. raising their eyebrows

I'm gonna try to use neopronous for walle now because why not

ae/aer

LIGHTER

EVE NO

FIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

ae just wants to hold her hand

SHES ASCENDING

nOOOO she stole aer plant NOOOOOO

GIVE AER AER PLANT

NO AER'S CRYING NOOOO

PEORECTION

electrocution

CHRIST.AS KJGHRS

OMG RHIS IS SO SWEET

WALL-E + EVE 😭 IM GONNA SOB NOOOO

AE JUST WANTS TO HILD HER HAND NOOOOO

EXCEPT SHE DOESNT HAVE HANDS ANYMORE

IM SADDDSD

wait there's a hand

it's just not mutual :(

THE MOONNN

NOOOOO

AE'S PLAYING PONG AGAINST AESELF :((((

8000 VS 0

it's cloudy with a chance of meatballs rn

lighter

NO EVE

DONT RAKE MT DAUGHTER AAAY YOU STIPID SPACESHIP

EVE MO

WALLE

FLY WALLE FLY

PROTECT CRICKET AND FLY

no there are multiple eves

RAKE OFFDFFF

WALLE HANG ON LITTLE ONE

the subtitles are just [Wall-E screaming] 😭

NOOO CRICKET IS ALONE NOW

CRICKET NOOOOO

wait why the fuck did they just destroy so many satellites wtf

oh earth looks NASTY

THAT IS ONE NASTY LOOKIN PLANET

WALLE NO

omg phew

AE FOUND EVE :D

MOON

MURICA 💪

SUN :D

just got all the solar power ever ae did

MILKY WAY :D

OMG CLOUD

it's the huge ass tech plane

axiom

bro how long did that take to fucking build

that thing is bigger than earth tf

gravity :)

EVE NO

Wall-E what are you doing

38:31 they're getting pissed off by Wall-E'S existence :(

39:20 that cleaning bot is PISSED

aww they just realized they can go off the lines :)

mate GET ON TOP OF HER (not in that way) pls just OMG ride the same cart. pls. do not get separated from her pls

those guys are right next to each other wtf

John

A is for Axiom your home I STG IF THIS IS WHAT EDUCATION IS FOR

A is for Apple, your iPads

B is for Best Buy, where you get your iPads

C is for idk. cock

lunch in a cup. I wanna die.

also the uniforms suck ass. those are worse than my elementary school ones.

Men? what's so good about men? why are they advertising men in a makeup place? where are they gonna appease men? on their chairs where they don't look at each other???

"try blue!" yeah you shouldve done that ages ago

actually that's a terrible shade of blue. even red is better than that shade of blue and that red makes me eyes hurt

it's actually a good shade of blue. just not for the jumpsuit things.

"every holo-date I've been on has been a virtual disaster" OMG that's actually such a great pun. writers of this I love this

Hi Mary :)

I do love how friendly the humans are. they're just chillin

also I adore how friendly Wall-E is. if someone got me a Wall-E plushie for my birthday I would marry them

maybe. hypothetically. probably not actually.

a113?

omg all the captains are dead

WAIT WALLE GET BACK TO EVE

OMG extraterrestrial vegetation?? YOU MEAN EARTH??? MOTHERFUKER???

bro he can't read 😭

I'm sad

OMG CAPTAINS GETTING AN EDUCATION LRTS GOOO

don't clean Wall-E ae's precious

WHAT DID THEY DO TO MY WALL-E'S FACE 😭

eve looks so fucking bored

oh that shit fucking exploded

oh no

CHASE SCENE

WHY IS RHWRE AN UMBRELLA BOT 😭

eve is PISSED

she's so exasperated 😭

WHY DID THE CLEANING BOT STEAL HER SHOE

WTF????

WALLENOOOOOOOOO

THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER COMJBG IN CLUTCH YESSSSS

AAWWWWW YHEYRE HUGGING ASHAJAGDKWHNSSBNXS

was that a kiss

omg that was totally a kiss

omg that was adorable

how is there that much fire extinguisher in one can

AE'S got a surprising amount of control with flying

OMG MARY I LOVE TOU

MARY MARY I LOVE YOU

JOHN HI JOHNJI JOHN :D

OMG man and woman touch hands romance is alive

omg captains getting social stuff :D

THEYRE DANICJNG NI THE DIRE EXTINGUISHER

OMG THEYRE SO IN LOVE AWWWWWW

MARY AND JOHN ARE BESTIEE AWWWWWWWWW

They can't go back :(

70:36 "I don't want to survive. I want to live!" SLAY CAPTAIN

72:00 YOU KILL WALLE I FUCKING JILL TOU SQUARE UP AUTO YOU MOTHERFUCKER

NOOOOOOOOOO

NOOO THEYRE IN TRASH NO

NO wtf happened to Captain

NO SHE JUST GOT REPROGRAMMDD NO

wait did she? no she didn't thank God

omg it's giant Wall-E

okay cleaning robot you've redeemed yourself ily

NO THEH KILLED THE TAPE

NOT THE TAPE NOOO

M-O

Mo ily

WHYD U THROW AWAY THE PLANT EVE

KEEP THE PLANT MAN

COME ON

YES ESCAPE DARLING ESCAPE YES EVE Y SO MUCH EVE YOUR THE BEST

OMG all the rogue robots are going together <33

REBEL CAPTAIN

NOOOOO NOT THE ONE BOT

wait where the hell are they getting oxygen if they don't have any plants

"John get ready to have some kids" Mary I love tou

Captain you can walk you can do it :D

YIPPEE

wait when the fuck did they learn how to walk

WALLE NO DONT DIE NOOOO

THEY ZOOMING

CALTAIN IS HAVING A FREAT TINE MAN

OMG THE FALAZY

CRICKET MY BELOVED:D :D :D

THEYRE HOMEEEEE

WALLES TRUCK NO

is there even any oxygen on Earth

when did theyearn to walk

eve pls just put aer In sun pls

OMG EVE YOURE THE BEST

UR FIXING AER

AHES FIXTING AER LET'S GO

PLS

PLS SOLAR PIWER PLS

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSDDSSSSSSSSSSSS

CRICKET

YOPPEE

WALLE EVE YES AJEKAUAKAHQKHAKAHAKABANSNAKLAPQHEMSVDNSBABSBBZKSJAKSSKKAAALAKBDNSBSJAKALAKSNABANAKAK

SIES AE NOT DECLGNIZE HER

WALLE NO

WALLE :(

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

AE LOST AER SOUL NOOOOO

NOIOOOOO

YES ELECTROCUTION

ELECTRIOCUTION

YES YES YES YES UES YES

KISS YES YES YES YES YES YES GES HES EHS GES

YES YES YESBBSJQNHDKAKAHDJSJAKDGWKJASNLAAJD

HANDS TES

AE'S FONNA SAY HER NAME

YES WVWNEHAJUAMJAKQQG FEW QKWyajlqshdnbdkavfvfa

EVE

WALLE YOURE ALUVE ILY SMHQJABSLQHSKAHQLAJAVD

CRICKET MO

BEAUTIFUTILN BUR

OMG I LIVE IT

OMG CAPTAIN I LIVE YUU I KIVE THIS I LOCE THIS I LOVE THIS I KIVE THIS TO LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I KCIE THIS ISJWIAKDBSMAALA

OH MY FOD RHEY RESTORUED EARTH HOLY DUFKJNG SHUT

RHERE ARE LKANTS HOLT SHIT THERES A SRAR AND ITS EVE KMF IM SOBBING XRHINF WKQKWJQOWMSEFJWHWHLDHWLQHDKZJALSBDKDNAKSJHDKSNSNSN

SHIP

OMG ITS OVER 😭 EGIWWJKSSHKQHSKWJQJAJWJQAJ

DIRT

OH MT GOD OH MT FOS OH MY DKS

EVE VUILDS A WELL???? OMG THE THLING BOT MAKES SEEDS DHAJSHSKSHKAQKQHALSHAKBSKAVAKAHWKQHKSWGKQBSNSABHZJANAISHAKQBQIWIDHAMALDHSNHWOWHSNFND XNSNALAKBLQKAHSJSNA x

fish come back alive???? thetles

#wall e #wall-e #walle #rambles #rambling #liveblogging #I LIVEBLOGGED WALL-E YALL #it was a great movie #So good #10/10 #actually 11/10 #might have to watch again and I don't watch movies so that is High Praise #idk how else to tag #ENJOY

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mamawasatesttube · 1 year

Note

timkon "we'll figure this out" ?

"So... that coulda gone better, huh?"

Tim turns from the window overlooking the planet far below with an incredibly deadpan expression. The red star far off to the left lights up half of his body in its fiery glow; the spaceship's lights, by contrast, are dim and paltry, barely even reaching the corners of the room.

Cell. May as well call it like it is—if it walks like a holding cell and quacks like a holding cell...

"Yeah, maybe a little," Tim says. "But—and I can't believe I'm the one saying this—it could've been worse. At least they didn't blow us up?"

Kon huffs out a breathy laugh. He slumps to sit on the stiff bed shoved up against the window, letting his head fall back against the glass with a thump. "Ow."

"Oh, brother," Tim mutters, settling onto the bed next to him (stupid alien kidnappers didn't even give them two beds). "No invulnerability under red suns, remember? Don't be stupid."

"Rob." Kon clasps a dramatic hand to his chest, turning soulful eyes to his bro. "I am stupid. You're telling me to deny my true nature."

Tim flicks him on the forehead.

"Ow!"

"Oh, stop being a big baby." Even with the mask on, Kon can easily tell Tim isn't just smiling; he's smirking at him, the smug bastard. "Or are you determined to be the damsel in distress here instead of helping me figure out how we're gonna call backup?"

"Uh, bad news on that front," Kon says, growing a bit more serious. "Preeetty sure that last explosion earlier probably took out the comms transceiver on our ship."

The smirk drops from Tim's face. "You're fucking with me." He sighs, rubs his temples, and flops back against the incredibly uncomfortable pillows their captors have so thoughtfully provided them with. "Oof."

Kon lies down at a more sedate pace, patting Tim's entire face both to reassure him and simply to be annoying. "Hey, it's not all bad. They didn't clock us as enough of a threat to bother separating us. And we've been in hotter water than this and made it out, right? ...I'm pretty sure we have, anyway. So! We'll figure this out. And then we'll kick some Denebian ass."

"Thanks for the pep talk," Tim says wryly, his voice a bit muffled. "Get your hand off my mouth before I lick it."

Kon seriously considers leaving his hand there just to see what Tim does if licking it doesn't make him pull back, but decides that that brand of stupidity is probably better saved for when they're, like, at least in their own solar system, and also not in any sort of fucked up space jail.

Relenting, he sighs and moves his arm down, throwing it over Tim's waist instead. "Man. They really didn't even try to get comfortable beds in here, did they?"

"Not in the slightest." Tim pats his head. "Hmm... we should try and get some rest anyway, though. The next guard rotation's probably in two hours, I bet, and when they come by..."

He's wearing a mask, sure, but Kon doesn't need to see his face in full to know just how his eyes must be glinting brilliantly in the red light.

"When they come by," Tim continues, his lips curving into a slight smile. "I think I have an idea."

"Oh, fuck yeah. So, what's the plan, boss? Lay it on me." Kon grins at him. "You know I love your ideas."

"Well," Tim says. "Here's what I'm thinking..."

♥ angst/fluff prompts ♥

#two idiots in space jail. what will they do #blenderfullasarcasm #timkon #rimi writes #tim #kon

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gaykarstaagforever · 2 months

Text

I knew Homeworld Cataclysm / Emergence was about a zombie virus infecting spaceships. But this game spends like an hour over 4 missions, lulling you into a false sense of security that you're just a podunk mining kiith doing your best in a universe that treats you like shit.

They really go out of their way to show that the Kushan taking Hiigara basically amounted to the Rebels defeating the Empire in Star Wars, in that the Taiidan just made a frowny face and spread out into pockets of the galaxy that the new "good" government cannot hope to afford to take on atm. Plus, while the people subject to the Taiidan Empire certainly hated them, it's not like they're happy that some weird alien cult from some random desert planet just conquered them and blew everything up. There are raiders and pirates everywhere, and the Kushan authorities are already spread so thin that they literally cannot deal with them.

Plus now that the Kushan kiith are running wild in the galaxy, they've just raised their planetary hierarchical bullshit to a stellar level. So you can have a massive fleet of spaceships, but you're still part of the traditional Custodial Kiith, so everyone else still blows you off and teases you constantly. While simultaneously demanding you bring your mining ship into pitched battle to save their lives.

And your kiith authorities are real mad about all this, and making stupid selfish political decisions on the basis of that spite.

This is a lot of nuanced story to plop into a game exclusively about spaceships yelling in Canadian accents and then exploding, but they do it really well. And all this before the crazy zombie virus crisis even breaks out.

It's almost like good writing is a relatively inexpensive way to make your rushed game sequel really good.

#homeworld

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cleverthylacine · 5 months

Text

That good old interest-based advertising. Also, Headmasters. And my brother.

I have a confession to make and that is that I actually do allow interest-based advertising because:

I don't have much to hide

If they don't take my interests into account, the things they try to sell me because I'm a lady (albeit an NB one) over the age of 50 make me so fucking depressed I could scream but I don't have the energy. I would rather they know way too much about my Hot Topic purchases and robot and doll collections than get ads for ... what advertisers think old people stuff is. By all means display your incredibly unsettling knowledge of my id and sell me robots and things that look like robot dicks and fashion dolls and fancy clothes...instead of trying to sell me adult diapers and cheap insurance that actually isn't. And homeopathic remedies for problems that I may or may not actually have, but I also know that homeopathy is BULL$HIT.

Anyhow this is brought to you today by;

"Yes, shopping app, I would absolutely love to have that self-transforming remote control Grimlock, he is hella cool and very cute and I really do want him but....first you're going to have to find me the $1700 plus taxes and shipping that I will need to acquire before I can hit that button."

G-d help me if they ever do Soundwave with a little Ravage that comes out of his chest and also transforms.

In other news, Headmasters is still fucking stupid and I still fucking love it.

IDW did all this binary bonding with aliens stuff. I actually do find "Fortress Maximus can turn into a giant head and make his spaceship sapient" much easier to understand.

It's just the plots of this show that are dumb.

Giant Venus Flytrap in a San Francisco office building

Let's blow up Mars

Let's make a big important detailed plan and not tell Scourge and Cyclonus about it, because it's not like they're guaranteed to fuck everything up if we don't.

Kiss Players had a better plot than Headmasters, when they actually like, were doing the plot and not panty jokes.

Also I still after 20-odd years want to scream at Carly and Arcee in this show. I know it's a product of 1980s japan but like, if the grown men/male mecha are unable to do a job, it's frustrating to watch Carly send Daniel or Arcee send Wheelie to do it, because those are children and Arcee and Carly are not.

As a non-Chromedome-liker, I am also amused at how dumb he is in this show.

My brother has developed a new and annoying way of asking for money that I've already told him I don't have. He calls my mom and tells her that I won't help him, so then I have to tell her, too, that yes I just got paid, but they raised the price for the medicine I need to brain from $5 to $40 because they don't like the dosage my doctor prescribes, and the landlord has my rent cheque in hand and is presumably going to cash it, and I also need to eat.

She understands this, at least. I just feel bad for her.

I feel bad for him too, but nobody told him that he needed to rent a U-Haul and move the second he got his new lease without asking either of us if we could afford to help pay for it (we can't.)

#state of the thylacine #headmasters #transformers headmasters #my g-d headmasters is dumb but fun #my brother no longer has cancer but still needs my money #unfortunately so do I

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actualhttpaladin · 2 years

Text

Val-Yor

My favorite show as a kid was Teen Titans. Growing up wanting to be someone people liked or someone who people could rely on for a laugh, I automatically could see myself in Beast Boy. And that was a part of their goal in the show, after all. To let kids see themselves in it. It is, after all, why they never explicitly state which Robin is Robin in any form of writing or dialogue. It was to help kids relate to the young heroes who would be closer in age to their chosen demographic, rather than the demographic of their older audience in the original.

With the exception of Starfire, each character had their own season as well. Robin dealt with pressures from authority figures and himself. Terra dealt with her capabilities and fitting in. Cyborg dealt with what it means to be human and to grow up. Raven dealt with identity. Starfire didn't get her own season, however. There was to be a sixth season and while it didn't get made, there was one episode that stuck out to me, even as a kid.

Season 4, Episode 6. Troq. They meet this hero named Val-Yor who is fighting an alien force named The Locrix, and the Titans aid him in a mission to fight them. He gets along with everyone in some way, as he is this paramount heroic, charismatic, cleft chin space hero. He even has nicknames for them all. But while he calls Robin "Spike", Raven "Sunshine", Beast Boy "Champ", and Cyborg "Metal Butt", he refers to Starfire as Troq.

"I don't need help from a stupid Troq."

"You getting all this, Troqqie?"

"This is a job for you, Troqqie."

Right before Starfire prepares for a mission, Val-Yor is asked why he can't move the mines himself. He says he could, but he needs to be inside to navigate the ship, and that Starfire's people can withstand the hostile conditions of space. Cyborg asks Starfire if she's okay to go through with the mission, and Starfire replies that she wants to prove her usefulness. Once again, Val-Yor refers to her as Troq, and Cyborg asks what that means. Starfire explains that it means nothing. Starfire moves mines out of the way of the spaceship, but accidentally sets one off on its counter. She pushes it out of the way, much to everyone's surprise, and her team's relief, and when she returns Cyborg is there to greet her:

"Way to go, Troqqie!"

SF: "You do not call me that!"

Cy: "But Val-Yor calls troq all the time."

SF: "That does not make it right."

Cy: "What's up? I thought you said it didn't mean anything."

SF: "No. I said it means nothing. When Val-Yor calls me troq, he is saying I am worthless. A nothing."

Cy: "Star..."

SF: "There are those on other planets who feel Tamaranians are inferior. "Troq" is what they call us."

Cy: "So he's calling you a terrible name. And you know if you punch him out it'll just confirm all the bad stuff he thinks about you."

SF: "Yes. You know what it feels like to be judged simply because of how you look?"

Cy: "'Course I do. I'm part robot. Lets go find Robin."

SF: "Wait. Perhaps we should inform Robin later."

Cy: "He'd want to know now."

At this, she smiles. They tell Robin the truth behind the word, and when Robin starts to go to tell Val-Yor off, she tells him no. "Our mission is more important than my feelings." They land on the planet and eventually succeed on their mission to destroy the episode's monster-of-the-week villain. Throughout it, however, Val-Yor continues to chide at Starfire, who has elected to go alongside him to aid him directly. And still, at every moment, the slur comes out, regardless of what she assistance she has provided. Even inviting her to stay near a bomb as it blows. Val-Yor gets caught in a trap, however, and Starfire saves him. "You may not value my life, but I still value yours."

Val-Yor attempts to thank the team, but they tell her to thank Starfire. Its this conversation that sticks out in my head.

VY: "Thank you, Starfire. I have to admit, you're not bad for a tr-. Tamaranian. You must be one of the good ones."

SF: "No, the fact that I rescued you does not make me any better than other Tamaranians."

VY: "Look, I'm trying to pay you a compliment."

Raven: "Then why does it still sound like an insult?"

VY: "Spike, you understand. I didn't mean anything by it, it's just—"

Robin: "Val-Yor, I think it's time for you to go."

VY: "I thought you earthlings were alright. I guess I was wrong. You're just like the troqs."

Robin, to Starfire: "I'm sorry Val-Yor treated you like that. If I'd known, I never would have let it happen."

Cy: "None of us would."

SF: "There is nothing you could have done. There will always be people who say mean words because you are different. And sometimes their minds cannot be changed. But there are many more people who not judge others based on how they look or where they are from. Those are the people whose words truly matter." And the episode ends.

Its been seventeen and a half years since that episode aired. I was 12, and it still plays in my mind. Racism doesn't always look like a red hat, and it doesn't always announce itself to you. Sometimes it endears itself to those close to you while giving you the harsh word out of earshot. Sometimes its someone who your loved ones care for too.

Racism is the kid who told my little brother that he's a dog because he's Filipino, but its also the church goer who says I'm beautiful because I'm half-white. Racism is when my very English name is changed once the college examiner sees my skin tone. Racism is being told I don't sound Asian. Racism is having a girl show interest in me because she has yellow fever, but then dumping me when I'm not “the right kind of Asian.” Racism is people accepting I'm failing an English class because my mother speaks Tagalog.

I still play that episode in my mind, almost weekly. I remember other cartoons and shows that had their one-off episode on racism, and how almost always, someone changed their view. But in this one, despite what I may disagree about it, the antagonist didn't change. Because sometimes you don't change people. Some people won't accept me no matter what I do. Some people wrap themselves up in the guise of friendship. And some people show me, and only me, what they're really like.

Some people reveal themselves to be Val-Yor.

#teen titans

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the-firebird69 · 2 months

Video

youtube

Daniel Powter - Bad Day (Official Music Video) [HD]

This guy is a huge ****. He thinks that I'm on his side i'm helping him and every time I tell him you're sitting here screwing around with me all the time threatening me you're **** done the guy can't remember it for any price. Regardless his video means that he's in Japan and she's not and you see that he's right across the street meaning that the max are taking the nukes and they're going to blow them up and a lot of times the **** makes this stupid video like this to dock and saying he lost everything and all that **** and he still is doing that because he's A He's a moron okay this guy is a huge **** he doesn't understand two people can't kill you take you away dismember you and burn you it's all it takes and there's more than two people near you that want to do that too you trump you **** fool so it takes a lot of effort to go after nukes but not that much. They found their devices and they delivered your **** to your cities probably your **** spaceships and your **** bunkers and Tommy F knew about it and I knew about it and we both told you already so I don't see how you could have just suddenly know you're having a bad day. But I do get it you have to have this bunny rabbit in the dog race for you to run after it 'cause you're so steaming stupid you can't even remember what I was saying tommy F is going to get your guys at the pyramids to get the information to take your stuff and he needs to get the **** outta here he really does and you guys are resting in peace just waiting all bent over and they need somebody to fight the max and he's going after it so he had a bad day probably thinking something stupid like you already took the information in your stupid robots are doing it when you can see a robot's leaving in trucks broken in pieces they're not wasting their time 'cause they're crappy I'm sick and tired of explaining that you should leave 'cause you're a **** loser I'm tired of people not doing their job and getting out of here so we're gonna make sure and I'm talking about this so we're gonna make sure and I'm talking about this idiotic realm we're gonna make sure that we use you up what you doing out there is so stupid we have our share of nukes we have your name on it I'm sure you understand a few 100 feet with many of these nukes is not with many of these nukes is not gonna protect you in your **** cities and at some point you can be sitting right on top of one and will threaten the crap out of you until you're all done

Zues Hera

They went ahead and put an APB on me and so what they have had them on you for years for bothering me and none of it matters until you get popped in the head and you will. I certainly understand something i'm running around bothering everyone and they're going after me I understand something else I'm trying to translate the pressure and stuff and he says you have or my army is growing we're going to take over everything go on. Well I'm funny pyramids and said that's great the pyramids are all over the place they've been there for a while people know about them you say you've drained your people of information and that you changed the information so now Tommy F is going to go after you

and thaat was trump and our son and he knows th biz and trump keeps blitehrig and feels better after our son nails it and trump wont stop. is an igrate spoiled idiot and really he is obtuse as hell. tons hear it ok and it is on the radio. tons.

Thor Freya

Olympus

#youtube

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talenlee · 5 months

Text

Game Pile: Planetfall (Kinda)

Planetfall (But Bioshock Infinite, Really)

Watch this video on YouTube

Script and thumbnail below the fold!

What you’re looking at here is footage, such as it is, of the game Planetfall. Planetfall is a text adventure game from 1983, written by Steve Meretzky, and published by the company Infocom. It was available on the Apple II, Atari 8-bit family, the TRS-80 and the IBM PC compatible, which included MS-DOS. Planetfall is a hundred and twenty kilobytes, which is to say, it is about a third of the size of the preview thumbnail file you clicked on to look at this video, which probably didn’t mention Planetfall at all.

Planetfall is an old game, old as balls. It is at this point, forty-one years old. It was made to run on a computer whose entire processing capacity is, to the device screening this, ‘negligible.’

It is also one of the first games to make me cry, when I played it, as a child.

Planetfall is about being a space janitor, eh, eh, yeah, like, if you know you know, but the point is, your space ship crashes, and you find yourself stuck on the planet Resida. You have to use your wits and a stupid amount of trial and error gameplay to construct some form of escape before the planet you’re stuck on blows up, or something like that. While exploring the ruins, you meet Floyd. Floyd is a cute, stupid, helpful little robot that follows you around and provides commentary.

Also, to win the game, you have to ask Floyd to sacrifice his life.

Here’s the passage, in full.

Floyd staggers to the ground, dropping the mini card. He is badly torn apart, with loose wires and broken circuits everywhere. Oil flows from his lubrication system. He obviously has only moments to live.

You drop to your knees and cradle Floyd’s head in your lap. Floyd looks up at his friend with half-open eyes. “Floyd did it… got card. Floyd a good friend, huh?”

Quietly, you sing Floyd’s favourite song, the Ballad of the Starcrossed Miner:

O, they ruled the solar system, Near ten thousand years before In their single starcrossed scoutships Mining asteroids, spinning lore,

Then one true courageous miner Spied a spaceship from the stars Boarded he that alien liner Out beyond the orb of Mars

Yes that ship was filled with danger Mighty monsters barred his way Yet he solved the alien myst’ries Mining quite a lode that day

O, they ruled the solar system Near ten thousand years before ‘Til one brave advent’rous spirit Brought that mighty ship to shore

As you finish the last verse, Floyd smiles with contentment, and then his eyes close, as his head rolls to one side. You sit in silence for a moment, in memory of a brave friend who gave his life so that you might live.

I played this game when I was a child, yes, but this passage, where Floyd is okay, and your path forward is only possible if Floyd commits to a course of dangerous action, and then he comes back, and he dies and you have to accept that is deeply affecting. It is a storytelling choice in which your agency is part of the course of story and that you could choose to not do it but you do choose to do it.

Right?

I didn’t.

I never finished Planetfall.

As a kid, I got to this point, I saw this happen, I quit the game and I ran away from ever playing more because of the deeply affecting experience of having a game make me an agent in that kind of moral quandrary, to not just make a sacrifice but to ask someone else to make that sacrifice. It is a good, classic piece of storytelling, and being a videogame, it lets the story situate you as an agent within the whole narrative space, to make you feel the way that the character in the game feels it.

Games are capable of giving us these powerful experiences, they are capable of giving us story experiences that elevate us through our agency, and they are, of course, art.

Glad we solved that, good job, 1983, thanks for clearing things up for all the idiots who think this is a complex question.

Right?

We wouldn’t be constantly in a defensive crouch about ‘art’ for, oh, I dunno, the intervening forty years, including multiple really embarrassing ‘citizen kane of videogame’ moments…?

Right?

Of course I’m not talking about Planetfall.

I’m talking about Bioshock Infinite

[]

Bioshock Infinite is a first-person shooter from Irrational Games, published by 2K and continues the ‘universe’ of the Bioshock games. And… for all that I will speak negatively of this game, for all that this whole piece is going to include some very stern criticisms about it and what it says about us, it is in my opinion, a text worth understanding to consider what we were doing, in videogames, in 2013. The Last Of Us, Bioshock Infinite and Grand Theft Auto were three of the most critically appraised games of the year, and all three of them together weren’t pulling in the money of Puzzle & Dragons, in the same year. A microcosm of gaming, I suppose.

With all readings of a complex text, we are not divining a truth from an author but negotiating an explanation with the media.

When I wrote about Bioshock Infinite back in May of 2013, I had just started university and had some fantasy in my mind about my work being a bridge to working in the games industry. James journalism, I imagined, was waiting for me to present an example of what I could do, and so, I wrote about games with the energy of someone trying to reach that sweet spot of irreverent professionalism, discussing games in terms of pros and cons and the inevitable consideration of a consumer.

At the time I did call the game a modern classic, on par with Spec Ops: The Line. I cringe at that a little, because while it’s true, it’s true in the way that you could remove that description from context and leave with the impression that I think that makes it good. It’s absolutely a classic – you can look at it in the context of the games of its time and it serves as an iconic reduction of so many of the elements that make up what it was to be games in that time and that place. It was also a release in that twilight between the attacks on Anita Sarkeesian and the subsequent distributed campaign we now know in hindsight as ‘gamergate.’

It was in this time that Roger Ebert, a famous film critic who elevated criticism as a type of popular media unto itself, passed away, and we got the now-famous CliffyB Tweet (Cliffy B is his own weird spur in the gaming landscape history, responsible in his youth for contributions to the shareware titles Dare to Dream and Jazz Jackrabbit) about how finally, games had attained the rank of art, a thing that lots of people clowned on. On the one hand, that’s funny because it was a silly thing to say, and at the same time, it’s sad because imagine thinking that games weren’t art until we saw Bioshock Infinite arrive on the scene.

And why Bioshock Infinite?

[]

In my first writing about Bioshock Infinite, I think I was giving it a lot of the benefit of the doubt. It was The Prestige Game and I couldn’t just say a game was bad, right? There were all these people who worked on it. There were all these bits that were good. It took a long process of learning what ‘good game’ even meant, and what I meant when I said it, and in the process, I spent that time discovering realising how much worse a game it was than I appreciated at the time. I eventually came to refer to Bioshock Infinite as a ‘shallow game as high watermark.’ That’s reasonable, I think. It was very much a good example of what gaming, at the time, considered The Way Things Should Be. It’s a centralising game. It induces a conversation around itself. It demands focus.

To talk about Bioshock Infinite and about what it tells us about us, and what it means about its sliver of history in time involves talking about the things that make it up, and a bit about the author, inasmuch as that is a thing that exists. In order to talk about how the world was realised, I need to talk about the setting of the game, and in order to talk about the setting of the game, I’m going to talk about the story that that setting is created to tell. That is, it is necessary to know the story to discuss the setting.

Now I could talk about this as if you already know the story but to write in such a way would be to imagine my entire audience is made up of people who have had to play through this game that is both not very good and ten years old, which for some of you means that you spent some of your precious teenage years and early twenties on this game. And thus, for you, I will tell you the story of Bioshock Infinite, so as to talk about the world of that story.

[]

Now let’s speed-run it.

Fade up, we have a dude, on a boat, with voices in his head, as he approaches a lighthouse with weirdoes in a boat. At first you’re not told much about him, which may lead to you thinking that he’s going to be a mystery blank slate like Jack from Bioshock, but then it turns out his name is Booker DeWitt. He’s here to Deliver the Girl, Wipe Away the Debt. To do this, he climbs the lighthouse, gets in a rocket, and goes to a world in the clouds, gets baptised in a scene that got a single weirdo a refund, and wakes up surrounded by Founding Fathers religious imagery.

What he finds is a land of wonder, but get this, turns out that it’s actually bad, and it’s bad because it’s super racist, and then you get apprehended by the racism cops for not being racist enough (because surely you didn’t join in the racism). What follows then is the standard pattern of Bioshock Infinite, of running from setpiece to setpiece, adding single extra elements to your play experience and the story, punctuated with what I’m going to summarise with ‘stuff,’ meaning combat challenges and some key-hunting or resource scrabbling downtime. You have to find The Girl, stuff, so you do, stuff, and it turns out she’s called Elizabeth and she’s also the best, basically a 90s Disney Princess as people wish they could remember them being rather than a Disney Princess as they actually are (don’t go back and watch those movies it’s a disappointment). Stuff, as Elizabeth wants to go to Paris and you want her to go to not-Paris. Stuff, she and you fight, stuff, set pieces showing you the world of Columbia, the capitalism, the slavery, the backstory of Comstock, Daisy Fitzroy, the leader of the resistance in Columbia, all with stuff, stuff, stuff, some more stuff, and then, dun dun dun, Elizabeth and you start exploring parallel versions of Columbia, where things are different, and there, you get to see different takes on the same world. Don’t worry, they’re not very different, you don’t need to take notes, because stuff, stuff, stuff.

In a parallel world, you see another world’s Daisy, and another world’s resistance, and another world’s slave revolt. Stuff happens and you find out get this, that when the slaves overthrow their owners, they shoot at those former owners! They’re mad! And Daisy, it turns out, is bad because of how she was willing to hurt and kill slavers and the children of slavers and also you because it can’t possibly be that a traumatised former slave responds to a world of violence with violence, it’s gotta be sinister!

Stuff.

More stuff.

Elizabeth is traumatised by this alternate reality’s alternate Daisy and her alternate murder of the alternate resistance while they engage in a completely reasonable anti-slavery revolt. While discussing if maybe they should vote for Hillary, the pair make their way back to where they started, while stuff happens around them. Stuff, Elizabeth is captured, stuff, you recover Elizabeth, stuff, and Elizabeth demands you don’t let her be captured again, in one of the more genuinely badass moments of the story that just uhhhh

uhhhh

this was ten years ago so I think there’s a chance that some of you have fetishes for this now, but don’t worry, it’s fine, he’s her dad, it’s fine

That doesn’t make it better actually nope never mind moving on

Anyway, then there’s more stuff, and stuff, and stuff, and you drown Comstock in a birdbath and you rescue Elizabeth one final time I hope there’s no precedent about her being foiled and used for the advancement of the stories of other boring men, but then you fight the Songbird on a boat and you learn the shocking truth that in fact, you, Booker Dewitt, and Zachary Comstock are the same person, and that Elizabeth is your daughter, but I gave that away already. Then you run out of stuff, you no longer have to fight slaves who are trying to tear down the system that enslaved them and the story reveals that because all of these plot points, and all of this stuff is directly attributed to how Booker handled baptism.

One version of him went ‘oh that’s cool’ and became Zachary Comstock, one part didn’t, and turned into a drunken bum. They’re both the same kind of guy, because they are the same guy. What I’m saying is, we’re not so different, you and I. Elizabeth solves this problem by travelling back in time to when Booker was being baptised, and then a dozen of her drown you. And you drown. Then the credits end and you’re fine and you have the baby back. I guess?

That’s what you get when you play Bioshock Infinite, and it’s important to know at every point when I said ‘stuff’, I was describing something boring and tedious.

[]

That’s the story.

That’s the sequence of events.

This story is important to understanding the world, because you need to know that Bioshock Infinite is a world of multiverses. That the reason it has the music and culture it does is because it was stolen. That the aesthetics of its zeppelins-and-gas-tubes alt-history technofantasy are all woven around a type of extradimensional radio-wave form of Sliders fanfiction.

Knowing that the story is about parallel dimensions and alternate timeline versions of yourself, but it’s really about being a dad who gets murdered by his kid, and really it’s about the character Ken Levine as a writer, everything about the world can be broken down into pieces and examined without the need to step around why things are the way they are. Doing so allows an appreciation for some truly breathtaking amounts of craft.

First up, I’m going to admit to my limitations. I don’t know guns, not deeply. Anything I have to say about the guns in Bioshock Infinite is going to be entirely aesthetic opinions and quotes from the Internet Movie Firearm Database. And you know, something of what you come here for is to have that, to have me process information and present it to you in a way that you find immediately interesting. But in the context of that melange of podcasts and questions and reading, I will say that the guns in Bioshock Infinite represent very good bad guns.

That is to say, the guns in Bioshock Infinite are constructed aesthetically to mirror guns of the period and the technology of the time, altered for a host of reasons. They are very competently animated and designed, if, and this is a big if, you’re willing to accept the ways that guns are so very, very often ‘wrong.’ There are common pitfalls for gun design that are in some cases a response to censorship standards (like, properly representing bullets is supposedly challenging across different cultural boundaries), but in a lot of cases these guns are the nexus between ‘don’t care’ and ‘won’t bother.’ Firing pin marks are missing on bullets for example: This is a simple factual mistake, it’s obvious to anyone who knows about them, and a majority of users will never notice or care.

If you’re willing to accept ‘these guns are bad in the way all guns are bad,’ then these are really high quality examples of guns. Effort has been made to make them visually distinct and interesting, to give them strong character, to have their mechanics play into how they move and fire and occupy space on the screen. I can’t tell you about how good the sounds are. I understand all guns in games are fantastically incorrect because they don’t want to represent the protagonist being deaf in three encounters.

[thanks to Doc Destructo for double checking me here]

[]

I’m also not an architecture student. I’m sure with deeper expertise, I could tell you how the landscapes of Americana presented by Bioshock Infinite aren’t properly accurate, aren’t as excellent as they pretend to be. Thus for so many things: The fashion, the style, the instruments available, the animations of the characters and the accents represented, I cannot attest to them as being ‘realistic’ or ‘correct’ but rather I can tell you that they successfully invoke what they strive to.

There is a deep and whole sense of verisimilitude in the designs of this place. So much so that when I first walked through the streets of Columbia, and heard God Only Knows performed by Barber Shop, that I went:

Oh, huh, I guess that song is an old classic that the Beach boys covered.

Which it isn’t. This was so effective at convincing me that I was just being introduced to retro versions of songs with long histories that it wasn’t until I heard Everybody wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears that I finally went:

Hang on they’re doing something here.

This is the world of Bioshock Infinite. It is a world full of considerations of vibes, and those vibes are in many cases immaculately constructed. Lines of dialogue are carefully chosen, and delivered by voice actors who elevate the moment to moment experience of the game. There’s a point where Booker and Liz take a moment aside and sing an old Gospel classic – Will the Circle Be Unbroken? – and it’s

amazing.

It’s not even my favourite voice line in the whole thing! There’s this line too, from Cornelius Slate:

You’re not done here, soldier! Eat everything that’s on your plate! Finish it!

Slate is in this situation throwing a rod because he doesn’t remember Comstock from partaking in a Massacre that Slate was doing! And just to be clear, Cornelius Slate is a dude who sucks! He is a bad dude, and the kind of person who’s mad that Comstock wasn’t a real bastard like he claimed to be. And bear in mind, part of that tension was the possibility that Comstock might be part Native American! Like that’s the levels of racism Slate is on!

But damn if that line ain’t delivered great?

There’s an effort to everything in Bioshock Infinite. Promotional trailers, individual outfit designs, varied wall and surface textures, populated physical locales, painting styles, individualised spaces like the toilets are all done with so much work. Work that you kind of can’t spoof or generate – I mean I’m sure there’s generation that was done, deliberately, but there really is no way around recognising that a lot of people who were very good at what they were doing worked very hard on every single surface of what makes up Bioshock Infinite. It was this quality that left me convinced that the game couldn’t be that bad, right? Like, if I called this work bad, wasn’t I in a way criticising the individualised work under the umbrella of criticising this game.

[]

Thing is, uh…

this game needs criticising.

A year after I played Bioshock Infinite, we got the Burial at Sea downloadable content, and that upset me so much I realised that actually, I could have an opinion on the game, that I could look at Bioshock Infinite as a text and series of texts and it wasn’t an act of cruelty or insensitivity to complain about it. The realisation that in fact, a very expensively made project produced by a large studio with a lot of money and hard work in it could in fact completely suck was a big push for me, on the par with realising that it’s entirely possible that even if I understand someone’s position and know how they got there, that doesn’t mean they couldn’t just be wrong.

I was seeing this as a Serious Game that needed to be taken Seriously, and therefore my criticism had to come in terms of these really specific, narrow places, like I had to try and divine a correct opinion out of the experience. Now I’m much more free to say the story’s pretentious and shit and racist and pretty misogynist, and those aren’t ideas that need explaining from first principle as if everyone is a good faith interlocutor.

There are ideas I have from how games work that I built out of my understanding of Bioshock Infinite! I started using terminology here that I still use somewhat; I referred to the level design as fightboxes, a term I still use to describe the same kind of game design that sees combats as things to break out in arenas. The nature of Bioshock Infinite as a fightbox game isn’t really a mark for or against it; it does make the world feel less whole and real, the way that linear path of the game closes off behind you kind of encourages a speedy pace the game doesn’t do a good job of using. Plus, if the main way you engage with the game is with its little boxes of fighting between cutscenes, it highlights how all those guns are boring.

I definitely had Feelings About Booker. I think part of it was the opening chainsawing of a racism cop, and the very real-feeling way I wanted to run through the game and kill everything to rescue Elizabeth that he echoed. I liked the feeling of being a rundown ramshackle mess of a dude who screwed up, related to violence, and could only think of ways to deploy that violence to the world. It jived with me, what can I say. But what sucks about Booker, by the end, is the realisation that he’s just giving up on his situation: He’s not bothering to get good at that relationship to violence, he’s not understanding what violence is or how it relates to people at large. He isn’t trying to fix things, he’s trying to find some way he can suffer enough to make it all go away.

[]

Somewhere between the release of Bioshock Infinite and now I resolved the idea that I should be kind with energy, and cruel with purpose.

I was buying into myths.

A myth that the people working on games are injured by criticising the game they worked on, because people who made a texture aren’t going to see work they didn’t do a great job on and say: ‘hey, why bring that up,’ as opposed to ‘yep, that’s crunch time for ya.’ A myth that marketing and promotion of a mid shooter was incapable of being built on smoke. A myth that games weren’t doing this kind of thing.

Games have been doing this kind of thing for as long as they’ve been making games. Games are always going to have people trying weird stuff, stuff about expressing ideas that are difficult to express in any other way. The year Bioshock Infinite launched, there were a thousand more interesting art games being made and released and shared and played. Itch.io had already launched in March 2013, there were already whole markets of games being weird and interesting and meta-aware and engaging and artistic.

But they didn’t look like Bioshock Infinite. They weren’t released like it. They weren’t presented and platformed and distributed like a AAA product. The myth was that Bioshock Infinite did a single thing new. Even the ways it sucks are boring and old. It’s not even a new sin, just the same old sins, over and over again! Bioshock Infinite is a game insulated from criticism by an assumption of competence!

I feel bad, reading back to my old Bioshock Infinite writing about how I missed a point that I feel is incredibly obvious to start with, an idea that I now, very much hold to be obviously true: Violence in response to violence is not a bad thing. If you are being oppressed, you do not solve that oppression by not being violent. When the revolution arc of Bioshock Infinite presents the slavers being hunted and killed by their slaves, and tries to frame it as ‘going too far’ I should have realised how obviously stupid that is. Those people were complicit in, participants in, a terrible, dreadful crime, and they have it coming. There’s a safe place for those people and it’s on the side of the revolutionaries fighting against slavers.

There was a forking pair of roads before me, as expressed in Bioshock Infinite opinions, and one of them got more radical and more okay with violence and the other might have kept trying for that Games Journalism job that would vaporise the next time the conservatives got in charge and decided to randomly defund the games industry in this country. The opinions I had about a game that I didn’t dislike that much got worse and worse the further I got from them, the more I formed new opinions, informed by knowing more, and knowing better, and being more honest with myself, and more willing to foreground that honesty about myself.

I think violence is a reasonable response to oppression.

[]

Inasmuch as there is a message of Bioshock Infinite it seems to want to warn against violent resistance to anything. It seems, at its heart of hearts, that this story is about how the second you picked up a gun to do something you were already damaged by the idea and the willingness to do violence, because there was no way that the story could pan out that didn’t go too far, even in the name of toppling a fascist slaver state. It is the white liberal dread of any non-incremental change. It is also, to some extent, also a flawed but idealistic father being killed by his child, which is, I mean it is a trend.

And that story is the problem.

Fundamentally, every part of Bioshock Infinite is made well. The fact that it’s full of boring combat against boring enemies to tell a deeply racist story about how slavery is bad but responding badly to being enslaved is just as bad, that’s not about how any part of it is executed, but instead about how the whole thing is executed. This is the stuff that falls to the task of an individual person to oversee the whole project, a sort of director, or producer, or a creative lead, or a head writer. If the work lacks for that kind of individualising mind that can pull things together consistently, then you can get disjointed material.

Someone, one someone, has to be lined up to say ‘this is the work, I am in charge of it, and I made the choices that make it what it is.’

Bioshock Infinite had that.

It had Ken Levine.

Which means that this game as it happened, with all the work done in all the parts of it, was handled to a dude. That dude should have been able to say ‘wow, this gun combat sucks.’ That dude should have been able to say ‘wow, are we saying that people killing their enslavers are going too far?’ That dude should have been able to say, ‘isn’t this story really bad? Isn’t this really boring and tedious and slow and isn’t it kinda weird to have Booker dress his daughter up sexy?’ And yes. Yes, one guy could have. And nobody could have stopped him.

Which means your options are that he was okay with what it wound up being, or, this was the actual choice he made.

Atoms aren’t red. But every red thing you’ve ever seen is made of atoms. You can make a red thing out of things that aren’t red. This project was made out of exquisitely competent pieces, designed to work by people at the top of their game working as hard as they can. And it sucks. The product absolutely sucks. Bioshock Infinite is a deeply incompetent game made entirely out of exquisitely competent parts. Every single part of how this game works is impressively made, down to having an exciting instigating event of chainsawing one of the racism cops in the face.

These pieces were made by hardworking people grinding away at improving 1% of 1% of things to make them perfect and they were put together by a boob.

Games have been art since before we had the word games. Games are art because they’re made by humans and humans scatter art on everything we do, like the glitter of our civilisation.

There’s a reason Planetfall made me cry.

People will tell you that art is about quality or presentation. These are aesthetic traits, these are nice, they are things you can do. But you don’t need this grandeur, this excess, this bombast to be art. In fact, a game from 1983 has the resonance of art and that negotiated experience in a beautiful way that hits so hard and so different because of what you did in it, and it’s ugly text written by a decent sci-fi author on a screen, and all of the slickness and polish and presentation in Bioshock Infinite just concealed the ways in which that game – which is absolutely art! – sucks shit.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Game Pile #Games

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projectorpheus · 1 year

Text

VOYAGER ⋅𖥔⋅ 30, M ⋅𖥔⋅ DECEPTION

People talk about the rockets that reach the stars but not the ships that end in fire. Shrapnel through the lungs; throats full of jet fuel, dead and ugly. Any competitor with too much pride to trail after first place. You keep a list of all the losers by date and name. Everyone who increased the odds for you, paved way for your stunts. You work as a test pilot for space shuttles, submarines, hovercars — push S Corp's tech to its limits, hooked on breaking records like a sunfish with barbs through its gaping mouth. You were born without a fear chip — that piece of brain that incites fear. Ghost without a home; nothing but endless, empty space to haunt. When S Corp halts its space program, you're left with two options: become jobless or stream stupid stunts for creds. You take the offer, of course. What else is there to do in this skeletal city — corpse and bleached bones of an animal that doesn't eat; doesn't breathe? Your skimmer flares from underground and takes you out aboveground. You stream it all, stuntman with his head thrown back, your torso hanging upside-down out of the driver's seat, your grin like a bobcat's. ALIVE, ALIVE, ALIVE. The ones underground watch as you grin; don't notice the carnage just past the frame of the camera. You are nothing but a distraction — walking breathing black hole being told to put on shoes and dance. For the cameras; for the fans — for the disillusion that this world isn't doomed and there's nothing to do but sit back and watch. Question: Is it a distraction for them — OR YOURSELF? It gets boring, though. All of the pomp and show with none of the risks. You suck teeth at the seatbelts, the safety gliders — the manufactured explosions that don't do so much as blow sand at your skin. Weeks go by when you don't leave your VR capsule. You turn the pain up high, dig a hole for yourself and crawl inside. The world's just artifice. You read the words in red graffiti on your way home on the rail line, scan the QR code and find a new game. Something's off about it, the way it tunnels through your psyche to actualize your inner ugliness, your itching wounds. AND FOR ONCE, FOR THE FIRST TIME, SOMETHING INSIDE YOU FEELS AFRAID.

DYNAMICS

PERDITA ⋅𖥔⋅ WHO WILL EVER KNOW YOUR HEART, WHO WILL EVER KNOW YOUR MIND? YOU HAVE THAT FATAL QUALITY OF SILENCE – OF A TIGHT REPRESSION THAT SUGGESTS A HIDDEN FIRE – YES, A BURNING FIRE UNQUENCHABLE

Friends is perhaps a too generous way to put it. You know her, have attended countless S Corp galas in each others' presence, but you've always found her presence lukewarm — too happy, too placid. VACANT AS A LOBOTOMIZED POSSUM. You're aware of her position within the company and that's why you leave her be. But part of you despises this about yourself, wants to shake her until breaks. Shake yourself until you both break. MIRROR MIRROR, WHO'S THE MOST EMPTY OF THEM ALL?

SAGAN ⋅𖥔⋅ I LEANED INTO THE WALL OF THE COILED CABIN, SNAIL, THE BODY CURLED IN UPON ITSELF, SPINE COILED, A SNAKE LYING IN WAIT

They played the game too, once upon a time. Some glitch allowed them to intrude upon your server, and you've seen their memories abstracted, have gazed inside them, have seen a world much more terrifying than the landscape within yourself. Now, in their fractured state, you wonder what their game world would look like. You want to play alongside them. You want to reach their game's finale. You want to win.

KEPLER ⋅𖥔⋅ I WAS NEVER ONE TO CONNECT. I'VE BEEN THAT WAY MY ENTIRE LIFE. I WENT TO WORK, KEPT MY HEAD DOWN, AND CAME HOME

You're pretty sure they have even less of a life than you do: it's kind of wild the amount of time they spend on space conquests in your bird MMO. Maybe a loser, but fun to game with, fun to build armies with for 20 straight hours and lose them all in a night. If you met them, maybe you'd share a drink, tell them more about yourself. But for now, they're just a penguin with a spaceship and a killer snowfort.

TAKEN BY ANNIE ⋅𖥔⋅ PAING TAKHON

#voyager.#closed.#all.

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january31st · 3 years

Text

I show up to the party just to leave (Venable x reader)

Summary: After a long time of not seeing each other, your brother invites you to his birthday party.

A/N: Title from Amoeba by Clairo. Her new album is like salt on an open wound, but in the softest way possible, and I love it :'). This has been in the drafts for a month and it was supposed to be a quick one to get me out of a slump :/ oops i guess (also i have no idea what this is or how we got here)

The reader doesn’t know about the whole selling their souls to the devil thing

Warnings: Drug addiction, overdose and hospital mentions.

Masterlist

~1800 words

The brightness inside Kineros was somehow even worse than outside in the California heat. Its whiteness and clean, modern look took you by surprise, given that your brother’s room back home used to be a mountain of unwashed dishes and dirty clothes, his PC setup the only thing you could look at without getting a headache.

“This.... is insane Jeff” you said as you took your sunglasses off, squinting very hard.

“I told you! I don’t know what’s so hard to believe about it. The whole multi-million company thing wasn’t convincing enough to make you believe this place is nice?” He said as he led you around to his office.

“Well, I’m just saying that coming from you I expected more of a nerd bunker than a sci-fi spaceship”

“Are your standards really that low Y/N?” he said with his hand on his chest, pretending to be deeply offended.

“Yeah, in the beginning you bragged for months about your Van”

“Oh but you can’t say that a company on the move isn’t cool”

“Sure” you said, shifting your attention to the woman in purple sitting behind the desk.

“Hi, you must be Ms.Venable! I’m Y/N, Jeff’s sister.” You said with your hand stretched out in front of you.

She looked from you to Jeff, and then at your hand, considering whether she should take it or not. Slowly, with the help of her cane, she stood up and shook it.

“And I hear you would be joining us to prepare for tomorrow, although I’ve told Mr. Pfister I have it handled.” She said, shooting your brother a menacing look, but you were too distracted by the feeling of her gloved hand still in yours. Had someone turned off the AC?

“I know Ms. Venable, I just had to show her the place before the party so she would believe it is nice. And by having her help get things ready she would know we didn’t mess things around to make it look better than it is” He said, and when you managed to shift your gaze away from her you noticed how Jeff looked. Someone finally taught him respect?

“If I had met Ms.Venable before, maybe I wouldn’t doubt how nice it is.”

“If you hadn’t left home for so long, maybe you would know more about the company”

“If you didn’t have so much blow up your nose all the time back then, maybe I wouldn’t feel the need to run away!”

“Awww family reunions are so cute” You turned to the circle door on the left side of the room to see your brother’s work partner leaning against it and looking at you two with a pout.

“Oh… hey Mutt”

“How is my favourite Pfister doing? I can’t believe how long it has been since I’ve seen you bro!” He said giving you a hug you did not expect.

“Hey! What the hell? Your favourite Pfister? Really? Stop flirting with my sister, asshole” said Jeff.

“I’m not! But it’s true, your sister is the best. Back then before we even dreamt of Kineros, the three of us would have so much fun!” Mutt answered, his arm still around your shoulders.

“Yeah I guess, before you two started your bullshit in between the lines” you said, scratching at your nose.

“Oh, speaking of flirting, how is that girlfriend of yours doing?” Jeff asked.

“Girlfriend? What… Ah. Yeah, well- she..” You laughed “ I swear I can’t make this shit up. Has it been that long since we spoke really?” The topic was making you even more uncomfortable, and you noticed that Ms. Venable was looking at you with an almost curious look? Was it? She was hard to read.

“Well, would you believe it, she fell in love with your dear coke instead.” Jeff looked at you as if he had just broken your favourite toy.

“Yea she just dumped me a while back and hit the streets. I tried to look for her, but she was just gone. I have no clue if she’s even alive.”

“Shit Y/N I’m sorry” Jeff said.

“Are you? Or are you still sniffing lines like a mad man?”

“Technically not lines no.” He said, smiling at Mutt knowingly.

You took his arm from your shoulders. “So you’re telling me that if I punch your ass right now it wouldn’t be snowing in here?”

When he didn’t answer with anything other than laughter you went on “It’s not funny! None of this is funny Jeff! Not now, and not that time I had to take your ODing ass to the ER! And not on all those times you were in withdrawal!”

He only laughed more, and said “It would be hell if that happened again!”

“Jeff! Have you-”

“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, but the last of the decorations for tomorrow are just arriving.” said Ms. Venable. And despite her low voice, all three of you went silent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You worry too much”

“What?” You asked through the pen you were chewing at, with your back still turned to her from the top of the chair, as you exchanged the regular lightbulb with a colorful one from the box you were holding.

She didn’t repeat herself for a while, as if she regretted saying anything in the first place. The past hour or so you had barely exchanged more than a couple words, her impassive looks making you assume she just didn’t like you.

“You worry too much about him.” She said, her voice loud and clear this time.

You stepped down from the chair placing the white bulb on the box she was holding with one hand. Thinking about your brother now made something clench on your stomach. To hide how hard it was to find an answer for her, you went to write a check on the lighting part of your to-do list.

“How could I not?” You asked.

“I must admit his lifestyle is… interesting. But it seems to have worked to bring this company to where it is today.” She said.

“I know he’s your boss, but you don’t have to doll-up how things are around here. And don’t give him more credit than he deserves, he is cocky enough about it.” after a pause you added “I know that if it were up to him, he would still be assembling robots amidst his dirty socks. It doesn’t take much to realise who’s behind everything that isn’t necessarily robots here.”

You reached for the box she was holding to go put it away, and noticed she was standing as still as a statue. Grabbing it from her with the ghost of a friendly smile on your face you went on, since she didn’t seem to know how to answer you this time.

“He used to say it helped him think and work better. And maybe it does but as his sister I can’t just ignore it and pretend I’m okay with it. He never takes things that matter seriously.”

“Before we got here I- for some stupid reason- actually thought he stopped it. He isn’t like he was before. Something has changed about him.”

“It has.” She said. “I think his dedication to the job put him in his tracks somewhat. Whatever his tracks are” She added with a smirk.

Giggling at that, you said, holding the checklist for her to see “Now that we´re done, how about we go get a snack and talk about something that doesn’t involve dumb and dumber or their tragic hairstyles?”

Fighting back a smile, she guided you somewhere you could eat, and said “I’m glad you don’t have a bowl cut too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the first hour or so Jeff introduced you to random people at the party, none of them getting much of your attention at all. Fancy and famous people, and though it was hard to believe seeing your brother around them- their nice suits next to his striped shirt, jeans and hoodie- you didn’t feel astonished at all. You felt crushed by everyone around you and took every opportunity to avoid dull conversation.

Some of them were surprised to meet you, to see how his casualty wasn’t a trait you shared, and given that you knew this would be a somewhat big party you did, in fact, dress up to the occasion. You decided to wear a nice blazer over a silk lingerie type shirt, straight legged pants and heels, hair slicked back and makeup dark and bold. Anywhere else you would look out of place, but here you managed to melt into the rest of the well dressed crowd. Thankfully that worked to your advantage so you could be away from the center of attention.

On the quick calls you did have, your brother never failed to gloat about his life and how great things were, and a part of you hoped blindlessly that it would mean he left his bad habits behind. Though now as you stood under the coloured lights it was more than obvious that he wouldn’t change, and all the bad memories from his addiction came back to you at once. Overwhelmed by your thoughts and the ambient itself, you made your way to the outside of the building unaware of the tic-toc of a cane following you.

“Where are you going?” her voice pulled you back to reality.

“I don’t know. Just away from this” you said, hand waving in the air. Then you took a second to look at her, as formally dressed as the day before, lilac suit and all, only her expression had changed. Though you knew she would never admit it, her face was contorted in a plea, almost begging for you to stay.

“I thought he changed. I really did. Like a foolish fucking child.”You blurted out.

“You don’t have to leave like this.” She stated, sounding disinterested despite herself.

“I do. I really do.”

“I never come to these events… I hate these people just as much as you do.” You narrowed your eyes at her, waiting for the rest of it, and when it didn’t come you asked “What made you come this time?”

After a long pause she said “I was surprised to meet you. I would never believe your brother had someone as… prudent and sensible in his life.” Another pause. “I’m trying to say don’t leave m-” She stopped herself.

“Then take me somewhere” You said without thinking, looking straight into those brown eyes as they seemed to soften. And for the first time her face twisted into what was definitely, unmistakably, a smile, and all you could do was smile right back.

“Come along then”

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