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thelastbarricade · 3 months

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Bloodhound.

pt. 1 of ? [ part 2 ]

[ read on ao3 ]

summary:

Cooper Howard is not a gracious, kind, nor giving man. When you wake bound and bleeding--seemingly left for dead after having previously traversed the Wasteland for months with him--you're reminded of this.

word count : 2.7k

tags: the ghoul x you, the ghoul x oc

warnings: violence, swearing, (will add more as the story progresses)

notes:

Say hello to my first fic attempt in...two years? Oh boy. All comments and feedback very much appreciated and feel free to hit me up in my messages and start a convo!

Narration and form may not be entirely polished so please pardon my dust.

xx korine <3

“You are not seriously going to fucking leave me here?!”

The warehouse you’re slumped over and hog-tied on the floor of groans and echoes around your shattering scream. Dust smears across your clothes; caked thick across the concrete floor as you squirm. The taste of metal and rust in the air causes your stomach to turn, bile bittering your tongue.

You came to consciousness like this. Tattered rope and torn clothing binding your ankles beneath you. Arms pulled so tight at the back you feared for the ligaments about your shoulders. Not that he’d cared to check for comfort. It was for the best, at least that’s what he’s decidedly convinced himself about now. Cooper Howard: wayward Ghoul and the Wasteland’s infamous Bogeymen was a dirty, dastardly, trifling man. He did things simply because he could. Didn’t matter the reason or rhyme, so long as the tune rang the same and the caps continued flowing. Who could blame him? World continued spinning regardless, and hungry a man as he was—fella’ had to eat.

“Mother fucker!” Blood trickles down your temple to bloom across your lips as you spit your words—venomous and vehement—in his direction. You kick and fight against your restraints, wrists red and angry to match their maker. Now that warrants a chuckle from your partner.

Partner? Captor?

Friend.

At least that’s what memories bound 'round the countless campfires and shared meals had lent their assumptions to at one point. Your mind reels over the titles and labels, if any, that you had once held Cooper to.

Oh you were fucked.

As if it even mattered anymore. He’d drugged you, some sleeping agent based on the sick in your stomach and thick weight of your limbs lingering. Whatever agreement you two had had as of yesterday seems to have gone up in flames.

“Nothin’ personal, darlin’.” The Ghoul's calm and cool facade only further enrages you. He eyes you with an eerie ease. That curious perk in his brow and tilt in his jaw ever-present.

You were going to rip out his throat with your bare fucking teeth. Tear what amalgamation of leathery ruin was left over that thick skull of his off and to shreds with your own two hands. Whatever nerve endings were left un singed by that almighty fucking bomb in his body were yours. You were going to dissect them inch by inch until all he could feel was you stripping him of the last thing humanity had granted him—pain.

Your chest heaved, blood in your veins threatening to set you alight thanks to all the adrenaline. Fuck the dehydration and starvation: come night the Radroaches would be having a feast. Not to mention the bloody fucking pack of fiends that’d been on your tails for the past week straight. You eye the bloodied tourniquet you’d bandaged so carefully the night before still dangling from the Ghoul's left leg. The grotesque blade that had torn into his already mottled and marred flesh had cut a mortal wound that would have felled any smooth skin. It had been taking longer to heal than usual. A sure sign Cooper’d been running low on his usual stock of vials. Shit, things like this had happened before and you’d both dealt with it. Got him back in his right mind and hit the road like nothing had happened. He hadn’t sold you then, hadn’t abandoned you then—but now?

What the hell changed?

Cooper turns away for a second; whipping the tattered fray of his trench coat aside and tucking something into his back pocket. You seize your seconds and shoot both heels out toward his injured leg sideways with all the might you can muster. It works. The ghoul is brought to his one good knee in a second before you. Not that you’ve any weapon or hands to follow through with anyway. It’d simply been in vain but even that you would take over letting him just walk away. From you. From this. Us. You feel his calloused fingers wrap themselves around your chin. He jerks your face within an inch of his. The growl in his chest barely escapes his lips as his other hand clutches the wound you’ve undoubtedly re-opened. You sneer through his hold on you. His breath is hot and vile. Comforting. Familiar.

How could he? No—how fucking dare he?! You grind out what moisture you have left on your tongue and spit it directly in his face. Saliva and blood freckle his marred cheeks. He shoves you aside. Like nothing. Like dirt.

Wasteland fucking scum.

Not that you weren’t. Cooper knew you were no angel, no savior, and sure as hell no saint. You’d more blood on your hands than any of the usual ruckus he’d found himself shacking up with or against. It could be said that was the reason he’d kept you around, but you knew better. Didn’t you?

Cooper could have partnered with any low-life Wastelander. Ones far bigger and far more dangerous than your likes. But it was you he stuck with. You who’d taken countless blades, bullets, stimpaks and Rad-X…all for him. The fucking horror that he was, you fucking took it all. Asked for nothing in return. Nothing more than a fucking voice in the void, not even a comforting one. Snide comments, limitless ridicule. Taken it all like tonic and swallowed it up like a naive child. You’d just not wanted to traverse the wastelands alone. Was that so much to ask? Apparently so.

Your stomach shifts violently; retch burning its way past your lips as you vomit beside yourself. Cursing yourself for your weakness you wrestle your restraints to kneel before him.

“Should’ve killed me when I was under, Cooper.” It takes all of your composure to stifle the sob in your throat and shove out a feigned a chuckle in its place. “I promise you…” Your eyes begin to burn, blurred. “I promise I’m going to make you wish you had.”

There’s a stiffness in his body language you chalk up to his wound. A hardened hesitation. You eye the loaded holster on his hip, wishing for once he’d just man up and use it. The ghoul straightens above you. The wide brim of his hat casts most of his face in a shadow. Hollowed eyes devoid of even the sentiment of emotion. Bastard. Behemoth.

Your binds smart and ache at your spine and your fingers flex instinctively. Even if you’d the luck about you to manage the gun away from him in his injured state, what would you do with it then?

'You’re a shit shot and you know it.' Cooper's words echo in the confines of your thoughts. They were warmer last they’d been spoken. A ghost of his touch fluttered at the memory. An uncharacteristically shaky hand. A rough touch pressed over yours as he guided you. Fingers finding yours like a self-conscious schoolboy. Like he was afraid if he moved too quickly you’d startle, leaving him standing alone in the fallout. You could have called it endearing once upon a time. Now? His comment just felt like a blade salted and shoved through an already gaping wound.

The ghoul catches your eyes lingering on his holstered belt. “Want me to put you onto somethin’?” He’s mocking you. You can hear it despite the salacious tone. He's eating this up. You steel your expression. Tears still paint your cheeks but you refuse to acknowledge their presence.

“Enlighten me,” You straighten yourself in slight, scooting closer. “I’ll even say please .” Your voice mock-softens. You pout, attempting to look as lost and vulnerable as possible. “Please, mister.” Your ignorant expression fades away. The smile teetering on your lips borders on manic. You could almost feel the pincers piercing your skin when the roaches descended upon you. Taste your own viscera bubbling up into your throat. Work out the curses you know would be solely meant for the man before you in your head. Even in death, you wouldn’t be able to escape him. Even in death, you would still be left wanting—him. How fucking pathetic. How fitting. So this was the Wasteland’s fate for you. Who were you to deny it?

It all happens in a blur then. You close your eyes, feeling the sweet scrape of a metal barrel press a bruising kiss at your already battered temple. Cooper's lips are gnarled, curled into a snarl as he descends upon you. A fistful of your shirt finds itself between his fingers. Always a temper, that one. It almost matched your own. You suppose that’s why you loved to play his game. Cooper’s nostril twitches as your eyes flutter open. You gaze up at him, knees ghosting the ground beneath you. The way he held you felt disgraceful. Divine.

“If I was a better man I’d paint this here pavement with those pretty little brains a’ yers.”

A scoff leaves your lips. Between the both of you, there was no good: only the bad and ugly. You’d committed no virtues in your twenty-odd some years on the surface and neither had Cooper in all of his. He drops you, pressing the barrel against your cheekbone and following the curvature of your cheek to your jaw. His eyes linger for a moment on your lips and you lick the blood drying itself there.

“Fiends’ll finish what I cant. Give me all the time I need to heal and with them on my trail—I can’t. Sorry sweetie, seems you’re the canon fodder today.” His voice echoed out across the warehouse, unrelenting and cold. The chill of his words drowned out the heat of the scorching sun.

What the fuck. What the actual FUCK.

Eyes wild, you buck—pushing the gun away with the thick of your skull. The ghoul relented then, reupholstering his weapon. In a second he’s stepping away from you. His blood-stained and grime-covered coat descends into the dark hallway across the warehouse. Walking away. Away. From you. Leaving you.

You scream and kick and writhe. Your voice blows out the entirety of the building you’re in until the walls and earth are shaking as above and so below. Everything about you had imploded. Every belief you’d been gifted and so naively accepted. Set aflame and blazing so bright you hadn’t realized such a thing could consume. Hatred. You felt your skin shed in your bindings. Heart a roaring scorch from deep within your chest. Much like you imagine the Ghouls may have at some point. You were birthing yourself anew. Alone. Bearing the weight of this world by yourself once more. You were better off alone. It was Cooper who’d had the dastardly deed of convincing you otherwise. Dangling a kinder fate before you only to rip it from you once the fruits of his labor had set their seeds deep in your psyche.

—

After you’d had your tantrum you settled in the dust and dinge of the cold cement floor. Your heavy breaths softened, silence becoming you. The sounds of the building had settled. When you were confident no lingering eyes or ears were upon you you whipped the heel of your boot back towards your bound wrists. Spindly fingers worked their way between the rubber and sole. Jackpot. The hilt of a pairing blade—one you’d more commonly used on your dinner—slid against your touch. Cooper was something of an expert with knots, but even these were shoddy and rushed enough that your rusted blade was up and through in a matter of minutes. You could blame it on your newfound vigor as well. Adrenaline seethed in your veins. You could taste your indignation over the copper of your blood and it only spurned you further. Quicker. Slice, cut, tear. Harder. Faster. There.

“Fucking—” You tear the fabric around your ankles free next, almost slicing yourself in the process. A slew of expletives falls from your lips as you stretch the cramps from your body. A few items from your camp still lay a few feet from you. You gather what you bother to into your bedroll, slinging it over your back. At least he’d the decency not to steal from a prospected corpse. The thought makes you snort.

Focus.

The daylight peaking in from the second-story windows was high on the horizon but fading ever so slightly. Daylight was on his side and he’d have at least an hour's lead by now. You were used to navigating the waste in the dark on your own but you wouldn’t prefer it, especially defenseless. Save an almost salvageable pairing knife. Great.

You eyed the dark hallway the Ghoul had exited through. Amongst the littered trash and mounds of dust covering the floor, you noticed the faintest trail of crimson splatter. Barely recognizable amongst the ruin to the naked eye. Almost black in its dried form until you mottle it with your touch. It splits and spreads. Fresh enough to tell its color apart from the surroundings. Not yours either. A surge of sadistic excitement fills your lungs and you find yourself moving. The blood continued to fall in steady, dropping off here and there where you’re sure Cooper had adjusted his stint. Poor boy really was wounded, wasn’t he? Your nostrils flared at the thought and you pushed it aside. No bother. The more wounded an animal was the more desperate its attempts to run. You crawled up through the broken concrete crevices that ran along the side of the building. Sand and grit slow your ascent, but not by much. Not nearly enough to throw you off his trail.

Cooper hadn’t kept you around for kicks. Hadn’t even kept you around because you could shoot after he’d taught you. You were still shit, after all. Cooper had come across you in an exchange. A dead end on a bounty even the best couldn’t manage to crack. And he would know.

You paused. His trail rounded the far back corner of the warehouse, turning on a whim and abandoning the lower ground for higher. Heading…east? You checked your markers, double-checked, triple-checked. Either he was just a fucking idiot or was blood loss even a thing for ghouls? Nearest settlement was west and the fiends would be steering far and wide from the larger ones. It’d be suicide to pivot back the way they’d come.

Come on, Cooper. You’re making it easy.

Low on vials and bordering insanity in some podunk rinky-dink saloon back room you’d convinced him or he’d convinced you, once upon a time. It didn’t matter (probably) that you were basically being bartered to him for your services. It was the man in the cheesy cowboy hat or being sold for parts. Pissed off the wrong bunch and with no allegiances on the surface to put faith in you…well, didn’t really matter now, did it?

Your jaw pulsed under a constant grind, realizing you’d be abandoning safety if you continued on after him. You had to trust yourself—but it’d been so long. An eternity with how the Wastelands days came and went. You cursed the Ghoul for cradling you in the farce of safety over these past few months. Always having someone at your back, your side. An extra pair of eyes and weaponry…it’d been a luxury you couldn’t afford. It was all just borrowed time. You just had to remember who you were. Before Cooper. Before The big bad Ghoul swept you up in fantasies and make-believe and made you forget how horrendous this world could and would be. With or without him. Tension crept between your shoulder blades as you continued to climb. You rolled it away with ease now. Fingers clawed themselves into the mounds of sand and you wiped the salt and sting from your head wound. You would force yourself. Shove the reality down your throat like a loaded barrel just to remember. Remember that between the big cities and the wilds on either side, you were known to all lowlife and company as a ‘Bloodhound’. No one could outrun you. No one could outtrack you. Cooper Howard should have known that. --

#fallout #fallout tv #cooper howard #cooper howard x ofc #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x ofc #the ghoul x you #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #fallout fic #the ghoul x oc

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bambamramfan · 2 months

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Weird

I have to say, only 8 days into her campaign for President of the United States, and Madame Harris has given us the best lesson in French existentialism since Stuart Symington in 1960.

She and her many meme-surrogates have launched an attack on "being weird."

(This isn't an on the spot invention. When asked, months ago, how she would debate Trump's meanderings, she said she would just ask "Why are you being weird?" She is truly committed to this line of attack.)

Obviously this has serendipitously synchronized with Trump's VP nominee, JD Vance, who condemns "childness cat ladies", thinks step-parents aren't real parents, and has written more rural weirdness in Hillbilly Elegy than Harmony Korine put in "Gummo."

(Trust me, that joke kills among film nerds.)

Hark! That is mean towards marginalized people, cries the side of Trump and white supremacists. How did you let meanness raise its head in a presidential election?

Hark, somewhat more convincingly, the left has plenty of weirdos running their henhouse, they tweet with pictures of transgender parades and whitedudesforharris zoom calls. (I have that zoom call open in my other tab, just to keep an eye of them.) Did you know they say A MAN CAN GET PREGNANT!!!?? Not much weirder you can get than that.

Well, the moderates surmise, since the "vibe shift" the left-wing weirdos (and their cancellations and microaggressions and Defund Hashtags) have been declining, and hopefully this is a expensive commitment signal to not put weirdos in power. Besides, the Democratic party has never let its own nuts hold actual political power (please ignore 2016 thru 2020 and the state of California.)

But no, #TeamMomala is deeper than that. We already know the truth: we're all weird. Anyone who has ever tried to actually defend their ideological stance in the face of thorough interrogation, has found themselves biting all sorts of bullets, standing on all sorts of unquestioned premises, and hand-waving all sorts of empirical data into "everyone knows that." There is no such thing as a normal human - in fact too much normalcy is one of the biggest signs of weirdness #StepfordWives #Pleasantville #2.3Children.

The rallying cry of "stop being weird" isn't an attempt to exile one set of too online Republicans. It's a message for the entire world. To return to repressing our weirdness. Everyone from JD Vance to Dennis Kucinich and his freakishly tall wife to Youtube and 4chan to Jared Leto to Ella Emhoff to the entire nation of France. Your time has run out and it's no more Mrs. Nice President Step-Cop!

Shape up. Get a haircut. Stop making up new words. Find fulfillment in crushing your inner self.

Or else we'll never beat Trump.

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sleepythug · 10 months

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could you list some of your fav indie dramas?

stroszek (werner herzog, 1977)

cockfighter (monte hellman, 1974)

repo man (alex cox, 1984)

julien donkey boy (harmony korine, 1999)

bless their little hearts (billy woodberry, 1983)

out of the blue (dennis hopper, 1980)

made in britain (alan clarke, 1982)

walkabout (nicolas roeg, 1971)

blue collar (paul schrader, 1978)

buster and billie (daniel petrie, 1974)

five easy pieces (bob rafaelson, 1970)

my brother's wedding (charles burnett, 1983)

minnie and moskowitz (john cassavetes, 1971)

somewhere (sofia coppola, 2010)

wendy and lucy (kelly reichardt, 2008)

ossos (pedro costa, 1997)

smithereens (susan siedelman, 1982)

relaxer (joel potrykus, 2018)

fingers (james toback, 1978)

we're all going to the world's fair (jane schoenbrun, 2022)

mary jane's not a virgin anymore (sarah jacobson, 1996)

4:44 last day on earth (abel ferrara, 2011)

#anonymous #recs

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scotianostra · 8 months

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Happy Birthday Scottish actor Ewen Bremner, born January 23rd 1972 in Edinburgh.

Bremner has worked with many of the most respected directors in world cinema, including Danny Boyle, Mike Leigh, Ridley Scott, Joon-Ho Bong, Werner Herzog and Woody Allen. Hen has established himself by creating unique characters in critically acclaimed films, as well as going toe to toe with many of Hollywood's biggest stars.

Ewen had worked widely in theatre, television, and film for years before being cast in his breakout role in Trainspotting, by Oscar-winning director Danny Boyle. He was the first to be cast in the role of Mark Renton in Edinburgh's Traverse Theatre production but lost out to Ewan McGregor in the film version, instead he was handed the role of Spud Murphy and earned screen immortality with his character's infamous "speed fuelled" job interview scene.

Prior to Trainspotting, Bremner gave a striking performance in Mike Leigh's Naked, fellow Scot Susan Vidler played his girlfriend Maggie in this excellent film.

In 1999, Bremner received critical acclaim for his portrayal of a schizophrenic man living with his dysfunctional family in Harmony Korine's Julien, Donkey-Boy. Filmed strictly in accordance with the ultra-realist tenants of Lars Von Trier's Dogma 95 movement and starring opposite Werner Herzog, Bremner played Julien its eponymous hero, requiring him to assume an American accent. He then worked with director Michael Bay in his high-profile 2001 war film Pearl Harbor, proving his versatility once again by portraying the role of a wholeheartedly patriotic American soldier fighting in WWII. The following year, he stepped back into fatigues for a supporting role in Ridley Scott's Black Hawk Down, while rounding out the next several years with roles in high-profile Hollywood releases such as The Rundown, Disney's Around the World in 80 Days), AVP: Alien vs. Predator, Woody Allen's Match Point, the comedy Death at a Funeral directed by Frank Oz, and Fool's Gold starring Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson.

This past few of years proved to be a busy when Bremner was invited to join the DC Universe in the Zack Snyder-produced feature Wonder Woman, directed by Patty Jenkins, co-starring Gal Gadot and Chris Pine. Ewen also reprised his unforgettable role as Spud in the highly-anticipated sequel to Danny Boyle's cult classic, T2: Trainspotting

Bremner appeared in the TNT Drama Series Will with Shekhar Kapur. The series told the story of the lost years of young William Shakespeare after his arrival to London in 1589 but only lasted one season. Other notable film credits include Woody Allen's You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger, Perfect Sense starring again alongside Ewan McGregor, Great Expectations, Jack the Giant Slayer, and Snowpiercer starring alongside Chris Evans and Tilda Swinton. Further credits include Exodus: Gods and Kings, Wide Open Spaces, Mojo, Mediator, Faintheart, Hallam Foe, Sixteen Years of Alcohol, and Snatch.

In television, Ewen has worked on many acclaimed productions including David Hare's Worriker trilogy starring Bill Nighy for BBC, Jimmy McGovern's Moving On and also his Australian mini-series Banished, Strike Back for Sky TV, Dominic Savage's Dive, the Dylan Thomas biopic, A Poet In New York and the adaptation of Day of the Triffids for the BBC. Other noteworthy series appearances include portraying legendary surrealist Salvador Dali in the U.K. television drama Surrealissimo: The Trial of Salvador Dali, and a guest spot on the successful NBC series, My Name is Earl, not to forget an early appearance in Taggart way back in 1990.

Latley Ewen has been one of a number of Scottish actors who are backing a campaign to reopen the Film House cinema in Edinburgh, he has a couple of projects on the go just now, Bluefish, which takes us around the globe to tell stories of people trying to break out of their bubbles of isolation, which I take to mean the Covid pandemic, he also has a film on the go called Roo, but there is nothing to report on that just now.

#scotland #scottish #history #happy birthday #actor #television #cinema #trainspotting

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thatndginger · 10 months

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A Very Basic Overview of Aeterre

alright, buckle up babes, because my beloved @thetruearchmagos has requested more info about War Witch's worldbuilding, and this is the first time I've actually been able to consolidate some of my work!

(be warned, all this is still in the ideas stage; some ideas are more concrete than others, some are liable to change)

Aeterre: the World of War Witch

I. The History

Aeterre’s backbone, its breath and bones, lies in magic. Called from the ether by the first gods, shaped and guided by the gods that came after and formed the first of humankind, the first animals and plants and mountains. For millennia, magic was a fact of life. Seasons changed, the sun rose in the east, and magic lived in everything. The gods watched the progress of their humans, gifted them the ability to wield magic, and guided them when necessary. Not everyone could wield magic, but then again, not everyone could wield a paintbrush or bake a loaf of bread or swing a sword. Not everyone would see a god in their lifetime, just like some might never see an ocean or the northern lights or an ibex.

In this time of magic, a great empire arose. The Koric Empire, birthed in the fertile rolling hills and sea-side cliffs of Korin, backed by the twin gods Vitalex and Morsex, began a slow, steady consumption of the Chanval Peninsula and western edge of the Eruan continent. The Korics were the first to master the art of construct building, and with an army bolstered by both magic and machinery, very little could stand in their way. Their rule was ended in one fell swoop, however, in an event that would come to be known as the Shattering. In the birthplace of constructs, a mountaintop city called Carigdon nestled in the mountains that bounded the eastern edge of the empire, the witchsmith Caoine killed magic in an act of rebellion against the Koric Empire. In the aftermath of this event, empires and nations fell into chaos, and the world nearly collapsed. Without the help of magic or gods, humankind managed to claw itself back from the brink of destruction and begin anew. They mastered machinery again; machinery fueled by coal and oil and steam instead of magic - though limited by this lacking. Empires rose again, and from the smoldering ruins of the Koric Empire rose the nation of Korin. Once again the masters of machinery, Korin began expanding its borders once more, growing further and faster than the empire of old.

While there are many who have attempted to revive magic, none have succeeded in the 250-ish years since the Shattering. Many have begun to believe that magic will never return. The steady march of progress has shown that perhaps humankind does not need magic and gods anymore. A god could not raze an entire battlefield with bullets and fire, could not send messages across the world in the blink of an eye. But man can.

Modern-day Aeterre, showing the (definitely-going-to-change) borders of it's nations

II. Major Nations of Aeterre

Korin: Referred to also as the Koric Empire, or the United Nation of Korin (UNK). Government by a constitutional monarchy; a monarch descended from the Rocheforth line - currently Queen Hannah and Prince Consort Frederick- is the official head of state of the country and retains certain executive and legislative powers, while a bicameral parliament composed of the Senate and the House of Assembly are responsible for most aspects of government and state. Senate membership is primarily an inherited position, though the current monarch has the ability to appoint or demote members as they see fit. Most Senators are also hereditary nobility of various rank, as monarch-elevated members are not always granted a noble title. The House of Assembly is made up of elected officials chosen by Korin’s citizens in elections held every three years. The number of Assemblymen for a province, territory, or colony is determined by population. An Assemblyman for a given territory does not have to have ever lived in said territory, and since only Korin-born citizens are allowed to vote, territorial and colonial Assemblymen are almost never actually from the place they represent.

Suaythen Empire: Referred to also as Suaya or Imperial Suaya. A directorial republic governed by the Sovereign Council, made up of seven councilors with equal power and head of state status. Each Councilor is the head of one of seven executive departments. Councilor elections are held every five years, and any Suaythen citizen of age - which includes the residents of Suaythen-held territories, who become citizens upon being annexed into the Empire - is allowed to vote. Councilors have no term limits. Below the council is a system of chancellors and vice-chancellors who assist in government affairs and running of the country. Chancellors and vice-chancellors are chosen by Councilors, and are generally allowed to choose the government officials below them. Councilors have the authority to remove any government official from office, though staffing decisions are usually left to chancellors/vice-chancellors.

III. Wait, What's a Construct?

Simply put, constructs were magical machinery. Powered by magic, constructs did not require the intricate internal structures and carefully crafted connections that modern machinery does. The most basic constructs consisted of a copper or bronze ‘skeleton’, a ‘heart’ made of a specific type of quartz, and a sturdy outer casing. The magic and skill required to create and power a construct made them costly to build and maintain, and the limited functionality of a construct’s ‘mind’ made them unsuitable for complicated tasks. A construct’s ‘mind’ was really just the magic instilled in its quartz heart that gave it direction and purpose. These quartz crystals could not contain much magic, so only simple commands could be instilled into it; “guard this door” or “push this plow” or “lift these stones”. Since magic is deeply linked to emotion, constructs were said to inherit some of the creator’s emotion upon being awoken - appearing kind or cruel in the way it performed its commands.

Nearly all constructs were built in the image of some living thing, with humans, horses, dogs, and other beasts of burden being the most common. Constructs meant more for entertainment or symbolic value were not uncommon, but were generally limited to the wealthy and important due to the cost and uselessness of them. Constructs were first and foremost tools, used to do the things living things could not. A horse construct could carry five times the weight of a regular horse, and a dog construct would never tire or become distracted from its job guarding an estate. A construct shaped like a human warrior would fight tirelessly, with the strength of three men, and only stop if its heart was damaged or it was commanded to stop. They were simple machines, but ruthlessly effective in battle.

It was the Koric Empire that perfected the art of construct building, and turned constructs from simple-minded machines into something almost living. All knowledge of their techniques has been lost, but somehow the Korics discovered how to instill complex directions and motives into the constructs. Stories of constructs that seemed almost to think and feel began to appear, and historians of the time mentioned war constructs that were capable of following complex strategy as opposed to the simple machines being pointed in a direction they were used to. Animal constructs made simply for decoration or status symbols were said to act almost exactly like the animal they were made to emulate. Records are few and far between, but it seems that these ‘living’ constructs all seemed to originate from the Tiraillfain valley, from the forges of the Aillan people who’d been consumed by the Koric Empire a century or so before the Shattering.

#wip: war witch #excuse the infodump #i can either do all or nothing :)

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neptuniadoesstuff · 3 months

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Uhhhh Another Doodle Hell Thing (Part 08?)

(I have taken this series way too seriously. I need help)

(CW/TW: Bl00d, Severed eyes on Scythe, & GuN)

A random/short installment of a series that I should prob put on a major hiatus now & maybe cann it for a while. (Listen, why did I make this series in the first place? Clout? Personally, idk.)

Anyways here's a list of them ig:

1-1:

A Sam o'Nella reference. (Of course JJ being a somewhat stereotypical Florida man takes out a g u n )

(JJ is mine)

2-1 (Bl00d & Severed Eyes):

Gerald but he's possessed by Mesmer. Guess you can call him "Mesmer!Gerald" now.

(Geralf belongs to Al. Also Gerald is a ASGD au of one of their OCs)

3-1:

I can't draw stick men for the life of me. :') But yeh this is just yur average interaction between Malice (Red Guy) & Harmona (Blue Guy). (Also another reference to Sam o'Nella)

(Malice belongs to Al & Harmona belongs to me)

4-1:

This is me after I make this whole thing. (Not literally but still)

5-1:

Uh just the last image & possibly what Korin will look like but idk I just drew this out of complete boredom & also bcs I h8 myself /hj

(OC belongs to Al but idfrk man. I mean this is a ASGD AU of one of their OCs who's a Fish Man)

Anyways I hope you enjoy THIS TRASH! Or not. I don't care. I wanna make proper content now. (Bcs I will h8 myself if I dont & my brain s stoopid-)

Character Credits are on top.

Art is mine. (Like literally it is.... YOU GOOFUSES BETTER NOT STEAL MY ART BCS MY WATERMARK IS FRIKIN EVERYWHERE NOW!)

Program: IbIsPaInT x

Bubs' TOS: Plz don't repost/steal, trace, or recolor my art WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! If you do, I'll take yur femur and pelvis.. SO, DON'T THINK ABOUT IT! (The PNS on my blog's pinned post clearly means "Please No Steal" plz follow that rule.) If you do post my art on anything like yur blog or somewhere else (With my permission) PLEASE CREDIT ME!

#neptuniadoesstuff #art #oc #ocs #n-verse #oc au #doodle hell #frend ocs #I h8 myself & idk why I made all of these #My brain be the stoopid #character doodles #doodles

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afro-elf · 1 year

Note

Plz your one sided beef with Sam levinson is hilarious, you really despise that man 😂

And you just know his new show is boring because I forgot it was airing for the past two sundays and I don’t see too many people taking about it

i hate that white man with ALL of my heart i really do. he's like... everything wrong with hollywood bottled up in one guy and i've HAD IT because his work isn't even good! it's not even good!!! do you know what it's like to see someone repeatedly getting hailed as like the new cutting edge director in hollywood and his work isn't even GOOD he wants to be araki and korine so bad it makes him look stupid

#princesswithsomeinterests #people ask me stuff and things #i think he also wants to be takashi miike but i cannot prove that

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onekindredspirit · 2 years

Video

youtube

Kahimi Karie - Harmony Korine

[Spoken] Cryogenically frozen

To Bel Air in a Beetle car

Meet a newly reviving star

Table talk in the candlelight 'til four

The star has heard of the loungecore trend

From a few San Francisco friends

But I tell him that trend ended last year

People who can ride the wave

People who are old but brave

People who can stay in shape

Look great

People who have style to spare

And who wear ironic flares

People who would rather die than bore

And how did you remain so cool?

You signed your name and sold your soul

I guess you froze yourself, so cool you're truly cold

What's so disgraceful about growing old?

[Spoken] David Cassidy's stallion farm

Donny Osmond is on my arm

He's lost some hair and he's lost some charm

Hello!

Tony Bennett, Zsa Zsa Gabor

Staying relevant is like war

Who got killed and I wonder what it's for?

People who can swing for weeks

With tongues held firmly in their cheeks

Even when their own careers, look bleak

People who are all the rage

And refuse to quit the stage

People who would rather die than age

Did cool help you survive the cull?

The Palace Coup... who did you kill?

How will you write your will?

How will you quit the scene?

Well did you ever hear of Harmony Korine?

[Spoken] Cryogenically frozen

Wrapped in a glaze of 100% pure irony

Sanctified by fashion magazines

Can't you see they're laughing at you laughing at you

Laughing at yourself, old man

But that's the game you choose to play

Yeah, I've heard your shit, that's old shit, man

We're living in a different time, time for a little originality

Time for a little individuality

Why not try, why not try a little experimentation for a change?

Why not try living a little closer to the edge for a change?

Be brave enough to run the risk of failure because

Without failure there is no way in to the great adventure

You've got to be able to crash the plane

And walk away

Termination of our tolerance for your anecdotes, old man

Tell it to St. Peter

How you put down Michael Caine

How you blew up James Bond

Save your breath

Quit the scene

Save your breath

Quit the scene

Did you ever hear of Harmony Korine?

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cewyll · 5 months

Text

eeeee thinking about adding elizabeth into the linked/connected modern verse in my own setting with all of my other little fuckers ( @icarusplunged & @huntershowl ) in it.

i think comstock starts his stupid cult in shelter island because it's hidden from the rest of the US, and thus federally unregulated (the government wont bother him woohoo). the cult is relatively small compared to other verses because i don't think he'd be able to gain as much of a foothold as he wants to, but maybe he nestles himself into the christian ultrawealthy community in the very center of the city... the politicians, CEOs, etc. and like, no one fucking likes him, but he's rich so they have to tolerate him and his weird family at brunch

ELIZABETH... either A) the usual "mom shunned her because of fuckshit" verse — raised in a glass tower (high-up skyscraper penthouse with floor to ceiling windows that are enchanted with unbreakable iii or whatever the fuck) and tinted from the outside to look reflective. the taunt of watching the city's life go by underneath you and being trapped above it

or B) mom did NOT shun her verse, and she's part of the weird family and knows the other citycenter kids. a little happier but also a little more repressed. keon is the person her age that she knows the best, because his father, korin, is the most powerful man in the city and catholic to boot — i dont think he loves comstock, but he's the closest thing the guy would have to an ally. korin doesnt particularly give a shit about cults or secret societies as long as they don't cause any problems for his own business initiatives.

either verse, i think she's read up extensively on adeodatus damiana's (character bio tba) political campaign (for Lord Governor — shelter island's archaic mayor-senator position separate from federal and state laws). and by god. if he weren't so charismatic and smart about under-the-table deals he would be public enemy #1 to her father and everyone else in the ultrawealthy district of citycenter, for his socialist policies alone. which is why he's her idol and dream dad — ( or rather was, since he was forced into hiding when someone burned his house down/killed his fiancee/tried to assassinate him like 5 years ago. )

#* OOC.#* VERSE POST.#{ sort of. }#{ literally no one is going to care about this im just yelling into the void and playing dolls AKJDHKDS }#{ but if you want in on a super cool weird atmospheric-horror-technokitsch-supernatural northeast US setting. }#{ it's my baby. i lOVE plotting out verses for ppl's characters }

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hollywood-montrose · 2 months

Text

“-Now, there's something special about you.

Something special I want.

Will you kiss me?

-Nope.

-You're not gay.

-It's all right. *laughs*

-My mother rejected me, my father rejected me.

There was no love in the household.

I was beaten, I was abused.

I had people stick shit up my rectum.

Will you hug me? Just hug me.

-I’ll give you a hug, man.

-Just hug me.”

“Gummo”, Harmony Korine (1997)

#gummo #harmonykorine #1990s #movies #movie quotes

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numetaljackdog · 10 months

Text

what i'm listening to november 2023. the agony

spot. link//yt link

song notes under cut

Laura Les - Haunted: haunted. by laura les.

Garbage - Queer: stand up for the fag anthem. but also let's be real one of the main draws here is the music video where shirley manson pushes the pov character down to the ground and forcibly shaves your head while singing "i know what's good for you." i'm a lesbian

Chris Fleming - W.U.G.: i've met a couple wugs in my time but more than anything i'm just on my chris fleming shit recently. this one has been stucks in my head sooo bad and bsaically anytime i see the word "guy" it comes back with a vengeance

Limp Bizkit & Method Man - N 2 Gether Now: random lb songs will really just crop up in my rotation for seemingly no reason but really this one has so many good lines and the addition of method man brings it up by so much. it's comical on some level bc it's like why is he here, he's like. a real rapper. and fred sounds so out of his depth next to him. but at the same time they both do actually really pretty good. pull the plug and then jet. MIC CHECK.

Sloppy Jane - Bark Like a God: recommended by a friend. need to listen to the full album but this goes insane goes crazy i mean those damn vocals and the THEMES ugh i mean what else do you need in this world. don't even really know what to call this band but it good and i need more

Almeda Riddle - My Little Rooster: Gummo is a 1997 American experimental drama film written and directed by Harmony Korine, starring Jacob Reynolds, Nick Sutton, Jacob Sewell, and Chloë Sevigny. The film is set (but was not filmed) in Xenia, Ohio, a Midwestern American town that had been previously struck by a devastating tornado. The loose narrative follows several main characters who find odd and destructive ways to pass time, interrupted by vignettes depicting other inhabitants of the town.

Destroy Boys - Fences: mostly just real catchy. many such cases. but there is a certain doggish quality to it as well

Enon - Natural Disasters: hi violer :3 ooh ahh the song so catchy the riff so tastey and shiney

Limp Bizkit - The Truth: i watched the band's short film of the same name recently and was pretty underwhelmed. but it did make me wanna go back and listen to the ep! it's been said to death but it's easily some of lb's best work, and not just because it's the serious one or whatever

Repo! The Genetic Opera - Night Surgeon: tbh there should be more repo on here but there's only so much space and this is undoubtedly my favorite track from the soundtrack (although "at the opera tonight" comes pretty damn close!!) i could listen to anthony head go "i remember" like that allllll day. i have been having some serious repo fixation recently i won't lie. give it a watch it's a normal movie

Foo Fighters - Everlong (Acoustic Version): okay look you guys know at this point how i get about everlong. so when i was watching hit film little nicky starring adam sandman and a rather beautiful sequence took place accompanied by a sparse acoustic version still laden in the characteristic warmth of the original song, of course i was hooked. and that's a nu metal-ass movie, too, but this was the pick i ended up making. that's special

Dropkick Murphys - I'm Shipping Up To Boston: WOOOOO BOSTON!!!!!!!! GO BRUINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET ME A CUP O DUNKS!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! YANKEES SUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <is not from boston but rather a different place entirely

Fefe Dobson - Unforgiven: why did nobody tell me about this fuckin nu metal x y2k pop fusion. this is like rina sawayama stfu but all the way back in 200-goddamn-3. fefe you were before your time

MGMT - Little Dark Age: i don't know mgmt that well but i heard a little bit of this song in a youtube video long ago and really liked it and could never find it and then i happened to encounter it again and was like oh hello my old acquaintance shall we get to know each other better

Billy Joel - All For Leyna: beginning to realize that billy is good actually. every little part of this song is crunchy and sweet and delicious for me. and god i sure am doing it all for leyna aren't i......

Tom Cardy & Brian David Gilbert - Beautiful Mind: tbh this was far from my favorite effort from either of these guys...... didn't really think it was all that funny. had a very lol random sort of appeal that just didn't hit me right. however it does sound amazing, really clean, and they both have nice voices. plus you know i love them harmonies

Taco - Puttin' on the Ritz: they play this a lot at a cafe i go to sometimes. i used to not like this song but it's really grown on me. it's one of those absolutely one-of-a-kind songs that could have only been a hit at the exact time and place that it was. and i like stuff like that! you might even say i think it's super duper :)

Violent Femmes - Breakin' Up: this song is dumb as balls. and it sounds way better in my head than it does to actually listen to it. but! the video is really cool, with that simple but effective camera trick. i enjoy that

Bowling For Soup - Girl All the Bad Guys Want: if the previous song was dumb as balls, this song is dumb as. like. the epididymis. or like a single sperm cell. i don;t know man it's a dumb fucking song. but it's about a cool rap rocker girl :3 and that's meeeeee probably. when i listen to it i like to rate each lyric on how true it is. watching wrestling? maybe now and then. creaming over tough guys? hmmm no i would simply not do this. but listening to rap metal? turntables in her eyes?? now we're fuckin talkin!!!!!!!!!!

#it has been such a trek through mud to get this out. please enjoy #*char noises*#talking pop

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thelastbarricade · 3 months

Text

Bloodhound Part 2:

Vacant

pt. 2 of ?

[ read on ao3 ]

summary:

"You think that if you burn down you'll be fine

and I'll forget all the times you lied." - 'VACANT' by Echoes

Your words echo in Cooper Howard’s thoughts.

‘Shoulda’ killed me when I was under, Coop’.’

Doesn’t he know it.

word count : 3.3k

tags: the ghoul x you, the ghoul x oc

warnings: violence, swearing, drug usage, emotional abuse, mutual pining, character study, multiple pov's (will add more as the story progresses)

notes:

Cooper's POV, more or less!

Say hello to my first fic attempt in...two years? Oh boy. All comments and feedback very much appreciated and feel free to hit me up in my messages and start a convo!

Narration and form may not be entirely polished so please pardon my dust.

xx korine <3

The stint he’s fashioned against his leg is a temporary fix at best. The tattered garb shoved deep into the gash is already swollen with fluids. If he keeps it in any longer it’ll just impart the healing further. Cooper relents.

Mirages danced across the dimming light above the sprawling sands just beyond Cooper Howard’s reach.

Fuck.

Daylight’s been on his side since you’d gone down sometime before dawn.

He couldn’t blame you. You didn’t know what whiskey, hell—a proper drink—was. Hadn’t the luxury of it in your short little life. When he’d come across a sealed shelf label bottle somewhere in the wastes trades, he’d jumped on it. Didn’t matter what it’d most likely (definitely) been cut with. The fire and flame coating his throat comforted all the same.

A perfect opportunity. For him or you, Cooper just couldn’t be sure anymore.

You’d enjoyed what taste you’d had. He was sure of it. The carefree curve your lips had softened into as your body began to give in to the pleasures of your drinks domestic pleasures. Pleasures a man like him was not near deserving enough of to bear witness to. But you’d been dropped into his lap like some twisted form of comfort and consequence.

A better man might not have obliged.

Cooper grinds out his complaints in hushed curses and heavy breaths as he climbs. The withering metal structures surrounding the perimeter of the building moan and groan, steps preceded by the low hum of the growing winds at his back. He shimmies his way across a deteriorating overhang leading into the next factory’s building over. The dunes covered his ascent and the mangled scraps of gutted warehouse roofing created a constant cover.

Cooper had only cleared a couple of hundred feet between the both of you.

Was he a fool to stay in such close proximity?

Of course.

Did he have another option?

The once-man-turned-ghoul eyed the wavering silhouettes of the wilds in the distance. If he was still in this wounded of a state when darkness fell—

He’d be a fuckin’ sittin’ duck.

Cooper sneers.

Nope, not an option. Didn’t matter how many bullets he’d have or how many he’d be able to take then. He knew when to make a move and when to wait out the storm. Literally. And mother Mary and all hells that hailed in-between—there would be a fuckin’ storm to be had.

—

The fiends you’d both encountered two nights ago had damn near carved his entire thigh down to bone with how deep their blade had dug. He’s lucky his flesh was kind enough to cling to him then. Not that he’d managed it alone. Of course you’d been there; calling him ‘grandpa’ and cursing reflexes of his you were convinced were slowing.

‘What would you’ve done without me?’ That sly fuckin’ smirk of yours was always tugging at your lips when you knew you’d had one over on him. It happened more than Cooper was willing to admit, and he’d only be willing to admit it when he was stone cold, turned over in his grave for the final time. At one point he had even toyed with the idea of you being the one to put him there.

But that was nothing more than a farce. A fairytale. Something to keep the loneliness lingering in the hearts of all who inhabited the surface, like Cooper, at bay.

A tale meant for ignorant children and self-righteous Vault dwellers.

Bitter to the bone and stubborn as a mule he was. He knew it, didn’t even try to deny it.

You’d put up with it for this long, hadn’t you?

It was then that he pictured you bound and writhing. Wounded temple still weeping because thick as you were, you’d gone and taken the brunt of a hit or two for him.

He told you to never stick your neck out for him—for anyone—ever.

Ever.

The look of betrayal in your eyes shouldn’t have even been a cause for pause, but he had. He’d fucking hesitated.

Canon fodder, Cooper’d said. As if words of that caliber were ever so simple. Easy.

It was like putting down a sick dog, in a way. At least that’s how he’d convinced himself of it—a mercy.

He hadn’t the heart to put the bullet in your head then, though. Not from the moment he’d laid eyes on you. Sickly little thing that you were. Starved and beaten, barely fit for exchange. Wrong end of a shit bargain he’d reckon. Not a surprise. He’d seen it before. You either found yourself strength in numbers in the Waste of became strong enough to cull the lot and likes around you.

Cooper had become the latter. Never was much of a team player, that one.

You on the other hand…

A knot twisted in his stomach.

Cooper would be lying to himself if he hadn’t asked himself and the higher powers above for that insight once or twice. Insight into how a sweet little thing, equally full of bark and bite, had landed yourself in Sorrel Bookers’ keeping.

Booker kept in line a gang of incompetents with little more prestige and skill than your average raider. The “Govermint” had considered you one of their assets at one point. Even his former associate Booker couldn’t be bid high enough on to elaborate. Cooper hadn’t pried into what had caused the tables to turn with you at the shit end of that stick. Not that you would have given him a real answer. He’d never been the type of man to give you one either.

All he knew was he had gotten his 200 caps worth. A small price to pay in the way of a break when it came to one of his bounties. You were sold to him like a dog—starting bid barely worth the sorry excuse for clothes on your back.

“This one’s worth more than fifty of her size and build. Only thing is she’s got a fuckin mouth on her. I’ll leave any ‘bodily modifications’ up to you though, Coop. Be warned, she bites.”

Booker had you bound and gagged in some shoddy storage room in one of his Govermint outfit stations. Your skin watercolored in bruises and superficial cuts in several stages of healing. Your eyebrow had been split sometime in the past day, knuckles bloodied and raw—no doubt a matching set to wounds some of Sorrels men now carried. Men Cooper had noticed lapping at their wounds and steeling away prides with swigs hooch on the way in.

Christ Almighty.

Cooper had remembered how precariously you’d eyed him as he’d stepped into view through the splintering door frame. He leaned in, unimpressed leer on his lips like always. You’d barely blinked as your gaze steadied on his. He thinks he remembers your eyes above all else from that day. Wide and dark, analyzing every movement of his. At one point it’d felt like a damned staring contest. Left the Ghoul feeling like he was the one being sized up and on trial. Not the other way around. You didn’t look afraid…didn’t show the faintest concept of repulsion towards him. You were fucking curious. Naive. A lost cause fallen into the very hands that would find themselves around your throat.

He should have put you out of your misery right then and there.

“I ain’t lookin’ for no pack mule, Booker.” Cooper had heard many a bargain in the way of women. Sorry souls caught up in even sorrier Wasteland body and labor exchange. He steered clear from these outfits for a reason. He wasn’t a good man by any means, but he also wasn’t without his own code of conduct.

“I’m in the business of one thing and so happens I’m in the middle of a job already.”

Cooper should have known he was signing onto some bad shit from the grimy grin Sorrel had given him then. He should have kept walking.

Sorrel Booker shoved you to your feet without a second though and puffed his chest out, hot-dogging you around like a god damn show pony.

“This one’s about to make yours a hell of a lot easier.”

Booker had even thrown in a free muzzle, for your troubles.

You had been a grim reminder for him of how dog-eat-dog worked in the Wasteland. Ghouls weren’t excluded from the order, either. Even a ghoul the likes of Cooper. Two centuries had come and gone with him and still he stood. Top of the food chain came with a price. You didn’t pay that price by makin’ friends. And you? Well, you’d been in debt it seemed; layin’ down with the dogs and here Cooper was washing you of your fleas.

That was four months ago now, give or take. You’d far repaid your caps in chems and vices alike in the first few weeks and here he’d left you alone: on an infested warehouse floor with fiends on both your heels.

Four months.

A fuckin’ eternity and a half for the smooth skins who survived it.

Cooper would know, but somehow it hadn’t been long enough for him to escape…this. These emotions.

You weren’t long for this world, darlin’, but Cooper Howard was. That’s just how it had to be. How it’d always been. Would be. Cooper Howard could be a sorry excuse for a man. It’s no wonder why the fates had designed it so that he no longer was one.

—

After circling the compound for what felt like decades the Ghoul settled own. Deciding to rest backed against a small alcove, right above a stoop of roof tiles obscured by fallen metal sheaths. A seasons worth of solidified sand stood to insulate either side of him from view.

It would have to do.

The suffocating humidity of falling rad-rain on the heated horizon began to kick up sheets of steam in the distance. Cooper lifted his gaze to view the turmoil brewing in the sky above. Dark matter overflowing with hues of vile greens and putrid yellows lurk uncomfortably close.

A tightness curled in his chest and clawed deep in his wretched depths. The Ghoul rummaged about his pack, makeshift atomizer gracing his fingertips. The little bubbled vial that sat atop was dangerously low on its contents. Empty vials clattered like wind chimes against his hip as he shoved them aside. The tepid yellow liquid sloshed and sputtered as Cooper drew in one deep breath.

It would have to do.

It would never be enough.

His lungs filled, expanded. Mind began to blur with days’ highs and lows…numbing them all. If just for a moment.

A moment.

Visions of soft doe-brown eyes and even softer curls crossed his vision.

‘Daddy, give the thumbs up, please! Just one more time.’ Janey’s toothy grin was faded in his memory, no longer near as sharp as the knife the thought alone wielded was.

Just one more time…

Cooper replayed the ghostly nudge of Roosevelt’s nose against his knee over coffee and a crisp morning paper.

The smell of Barb’s gardenia perfume wafting over a fresh cut cigar. Sunlight warms his skin through an open window. His wife’s freshly manicured nails tenderly teasing at his forearm. Lipstick staining his collar as she drew him nearer, arms wrapped around his waist to pull him closer—deeper.

The Ghoul tried his damnedest to remember the sound of their voices.

He bargains with what god cares to hear him.

Just a moment, please, one moment more.

Another voice barrels through the fog of his thoughts. The sands shift in the dunes overhead, metal creaking under a sudden shift in weight above.

“Times up, Coop.”

The heel of your boot slams against his temple, full weight knocking Cooper entirely sideway into the hardened walls of sand. He watches you shrug off your pack before he’s even able to draw on you. Quick little thing that you were.

A knee drives itself into his dominant shoulder, knocking his gun off trajectory and sending a stray bullet into the ground. Radroaches chitter and shriek somewhere in the dark abandon beneath you.

Your wild eyes meet his.

Gods of course you’d make it a fuckin’ ordeal.

You could never just go quietly, could you?

“You son of a—” He watches you lick your lips from above him. It’s picturesque.

Your bare knuckles connect against the sharp curves of his face: bone to flesh and back again. He feels the warmth seeping from your splitting skin and its apparent you’re not in the right mind too stop. Not that he wants you to.

Chems could only numb so much, and a kiss with a fist was better than none.

Cooper hisses when your knee finds itself bearing down on his injured thigh, other knee strewn diagonal to weigh down his shooting arm. You push away his weapon with little effort, hooking it on one of your belt loops as you straddle him roughly. Fingers find their way to his jaw as you observe him in slow like he had you. You slap at the Ghoul’s sunken cheeks, attempting to wake him from whatever daze had given you the element of surprise.

Cooper laughs and rolls his neck to ease the ache in his skull where you’d bludgeoned him.

“Little mutt,” He spits, smile betraying his venom. “They warned me you’d have some bite left in ya’.”

Your eyes dagger at his insult and Cooper notices the smirk about your lips evaporate. Cooper expects you to strike him. In all his months of knowing your true name he still reverted back to pet ones. Insults of ownership.

Instead he’s met with eyes that search his far longer and far deeper than he’d ever be fuckin’ comfortable with. He’s almost sure you catch his facade falter because you cock your head in thought just like he did when he noted something, and well—Cooper’s had just about enough of that.

He meets your weight with the tank that is his own. It was almost an insulting ease. Cooper towered over you in the sum of inches and pounds; muscles that had solidified over the course of two centuries. Nothing about him was soft any longer. Hadn’t been in a very long time. You knew this.

Your supple skin is heaven and hell beneath his hardened grasp. He flips your straddle with ease, shoving your legs between his, even in a wounded state. A gasp escapes your lungs as you orient yourself. He doesn’t even try to block your wrist when you snake it between the both of you; pitiful little pairing blade at his jugular like it’d do a damn thing.

One hand rests against the exposed length of your throat. His elbow buried deep in the soft connective tissue connecting your shoulder and upper arm as he pins it down. That ushers a whine from your lips.

Oh, What a burden it must be made of delicate living flesh, he muses to himself.

To feel like the consequences of your actions with every fiber of your being.

“Gonna’ come make good on yer’ threat there, darlin’?” He trails his free hand down the flare of your ribs, ghosting over your hip like a starved lover and then it settles: just over the barrel of his weapon you’d so kindly pocketed.

The flicker of a shadow dances in his peripheral, just behind the cover of a mound of sand.

Just a little closer.

Cooper scoffs as his gaze flickers down to yours.

“Or,” He cocks the gun against the warm sand. “you gonna’ make go through with mine?”

Cooper leans into the blade at his throat, drawing your chests closer together as he closes the distance between your beating hearts. He knows he’s won when your eyes linger on his lips for even a fraction of a second. The Ghoul smiles in his triumph, steadying the grip on his gun as the shadow teasing his vision shifts.

You tense.

He draws.

He feels you scream beneath him and it is of the things that shatter dreams.

If I’d been a better man…

The blade at his throat sinks in instinctively and the Ghoul couldn’t have blamed you even if he wanted to.

I’d be afraid of me too.

He grits his teeth and his free hand releases your throat.

Your breath heaves beneath him and you scramble out from under his weight when you realize the bullet not been meant for you.

The body of the fiend not more than five feet from the both of you slumps to the ground into a pile of its own brain matter.

You’re shaking. He sees it. Adrenaline pumping and confusion beginning to settle in—

What Cooper was not expecting, however, was the elbow that connected with his jaw just then.

Your elbow.

He lets out the smallest of surprised scoffs and licks at his lips.

Yeah, he’d deserved that too.

He’s almost proud of you.

“COOPER?!?!” The Ghoul watches as you scream your demand of him. Bewildered and shaken you stand. Doubled over—weighing your hands on your thighs to keep upright as the fight or flight leaves your body through bleary eyes.

Cooper takes its all.

Your hesitance, your rage—your indignance and your pain.

Turns and faces you like its nothing to him at all.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

There’s a hint of desperation on your tongue.

‘Just tell me, please.’ Cooper can almost hear you begging, but you won’t. Not here. Not like this.

He pulls the small blade from his throat, wincing with a flick of his chin as he throws it to the sands before you both. You pause and Cooper grimaces. He motions to the blade, signaling he wants you to pick it up. To Cooper’s surprise and utter fucking dismay, you do. Almost without a second thought.

He watches you tuck it into your pants pocket, diverting those ever watching eyes back to him. Like you saw something he couldn’t.

Why?

Why are you like this?

“Grab your shit.” He growls out. “We’re moving.”

You don’t move, though. You just stare. Doe-eyed like the fraudulent fawn you were.

“Git’!” He clicks his tongue in annoyance. Not at you, not entirely.

That lone fiend Cooper had shot down had been a scout and it was clear to him now that the others wouldn’t be far behind. Fiends usually never tracked their prey through the dunes for half near this long. Just both of your’s fuckin’ luck.

But you wouldn’t know that would you? How could you? Cooper protected you from far too much. Even things that would kill you.

Cooper could smell trouble brewing on the horizon closer than he’d been prepared for. Something wasn’t right and it was his job to figure out what. Even if it meant you resenting him for the time being. He’d been more comfortable with contempt anyway. It fit him like an old glove and embraced him like a familiar lover, no strings attached.

“I hate you.” There’s a resound defeat in your voice.

Cooper nods in slow, jaw clenched. He knows your tired. Sees it in your face and hears it in your voice. He’d spent all these months dragging you through the dessert with promises that never came and made you compromise on every value you held dear that he could. With no end in sight.

He’d just been selfish to let you go.

And you? You’d been too scared to leave.

Scared of what?, he constantly wondered.

What lay out there between the dunes and ruin that could possibly chase you back into the likes of the man like him…time and time again?

Your words echo in Cooper Howard’s thoughts.

‘Shoulda’ killed me when I was under, Coop’.’

Doesn’t he know it.

#fallout tv #fallout fic #cooper howard #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x ofc #cooper howard x oc #the ghoul fic #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x ofc #the ghoul x oc

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jacquelinemerritt · 2 years

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Dragon Ball Z: Revenge of Cooler Abridged Review

Originally posted December 11th, 2015

Derivative plots can be more entertaining than you’d think.

This is my second review of one of Team Four Star’s abridged films (because I’m saving Christmas Tree of Might for a very special occasion), and I gotta say, I’m noticing that they might be a tad repetitive.

I mean, the plot for this film is pretty much exactly the same as the last. An evil alien comes to earth with his team of bad guys (a pretty one, a dumb tough one, and one with a weird power, all of which are defeated by Piccolo) and attempts to destroy it, only to be stopped by Goku, who pulls out a victory at the very last second with a power boost (last time it was energy from Piccolo, this time it’s Super Saiyan Kamehameha). Given that clear a formula, you’d kind of expect these films to be pretty boring.

But Team Four Star, as we know, loves defying expectations. As writers, they are keenly aware of the plot similarities shared by all the films, and while they can’t abandon those similarities, they build a very specific story onto that basic plot in order to give us a compelling experience.

To cite an example, Team Four Star draws on the similarities between Cooler’s goons and the Ginyu Force by giving them all ridiculous accents or voices. We get to meet yet another Space Aussie as well as Salza, a Space Frenchman who, like any good Frenchman, refuses to let you forget he is from France by constantly referencing the superiority of his people’s culture. And in one of the coolest moments from this film, Salza, emits energy from his arm which sounds like a lightsaber, and proceeds to attack Piccolo in a chase sequence that looks like Return of the Jedi.

This is cool not only for the nerdy crossover value, but for the fact that man who lavishes French cinema, where auteur theory originated, has an attack in a Japanese anime referencing a series of Western films developed by an auteur who drew heavily on the works of Akira Kurosawa, who is generally considered the greatest auteur in Japanese cinema.1

Cooler himself is also a damn interesting character, and General Ivan does an excellent job of imbuing him with a charismatic professionalism that makes him clearly distinct from Freeza, while still serving as a good foil for Goku. We even get treated to a reaction from Goku just after Cooler shares his entire life story during a brief dip underwater, and it gives us a solid foundation for both Freeza and Cooler’s ultimate motivations: to please their father.

Cooler’s voice transformation and subsequent The Dark Knight Rises reference are also excellent, and what’s more, the comparison to Tom Hardy’s Bane is fairly apt, as Cooler’s physical and mental fortitude is the closest to Goku’s we’ve seen yet in the series.

In addition to the strong characterizations given to the villains in this film, there’s one scene in particular that sticks out as a favorite of mine. It’s the scene where Gohan goes to Korin and Yajorobe’s house to get Senzu beans for Goku. When he arrives, we see Korin and Yajirobe fighting over kitty treats and a clogged toilet drain. This scenario, I imagine, was probably used in the original as a short delay to Gohan receiving the Senzu beans and flying away, with the bickering ultimately being pointless and adding nothing to the story.

Here though, Team Four Star takes the fight between Korin and Yajirobe and elevates it to a glimpse into the complexity of a loving relationship. The argument here isn’t about the treats or the drain, it’s about how two people who love each other can clash when forced to live in the same space for a long period of time, and even after we see them argue, we’re still shown a moment of tender conflict as Korin reminds Yajirobe that he’s not ready to have a child yet. It’s this kind of specificity that Team Four Star uses to elevate itself from the source material, and it is damn compelling to watch.

Rating: 4.5/5

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Stray Observations

1It’s so meta it hurts.

I also don’t want to neglect how Goku and Gohan’s relationship in this film feels like such a natural extension of the development it got in Season 2. Here though, we do get a little evidence that Goku, you know, actually cares about his son, since he takes a hit from Cooler to save him at the beginning (conveniently ousting him from the plot).

Fish: “Halt, stalwart stranger! If you let me go I will grant you one wish.” Goku: “I wish for you to be my dinner.”

Goku: “I am having the worst case of Dijon Mustard right now.”

Salza: “Le suck it, bitch!”

Goku: “Cooler than Freezer? You must be ice cold.” Cooler: “No, that would be my father.”

Goku: “Oh, that’s right Chi Chi. Pour that maple syrup. All over my breakfast. You beautiful lady who lives in my house.”

Piccolo: “Gohan, you know what to do!” Gohan: “Yes, sir!” *runs away* Piccolo: “I meant back me up!”

I still don’t quite understand the Toriyama bird joke. I love the callbacks made to it later of course, but if he’s alive, then why is Goku freaking out about him through the death of a bird?

Goku: “Sun, you grow my food, you kill my enemies. You’re totally worth the skin cancer.” Yet another excellent callback.

#dragon ball z abridged #dragon ball z #team four star #tfs #dbza #film criticism #dbza movie #dbza cooler

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grumpy-limsan-customs-cat · 7 months

Note

MOONLIGHT NAUGHTY XOXO FOR NEY AND also the cinnamon roll croissant

VALENTINE’S DAY ALPHABET

What is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Despite putting on an outgoing, extroverted act, Ney definitely prefers spending time at home with his partner over going out for a date! His most favorite, ideal date-time would be having his partner try on the new accessories he has made for him - be it jewellery or something more intimate. And, naturally, there's only Korin he would do that kind of things with.

What is your muse like in bed?

He is very flexible, but due to his partner's needs he has taken a generally more dominating role in the bedroom - a role that he thoroughly enjoys, he loves toying with his lover and watching him squirm! He enjoys coming up with new toys and ways for the bedroom activities too, to make sure to keep his partner on his toes at least some of the times.

Does your muse use / like pet names?

He doesn't mind them, but doesn't use them in everyday life. He does sometimes call Korin his "treasure" and his "most beautiful work" (when adorned with his jewellery), but that is usually saved for the bedroom - or to threaten anyone who gets too cozy with his lover.

What is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

Everaux is a simple man, and he would prefer a simple date! Having a leisurely walk in nature or in the city, taking in the sights and sounds, maybe a simple meal in a local eatery - those small things are an ideal date for him, though the main thing for him would be to take his partner to places they might enjoy. As for with who...he doesn't have a particular person in mind yet!

What is your muse like in bed?

Very vanilla, very attentive I imagine! He would love pampering his partner, to make them feel loved and appreciated to their very core. Besides that he is...probably not very adventurous in bed if his partner isn't, the silly cinnamon roll.

Does your muse use / like pet names?

He would most likely prefer his partner with a pet name, though it would be something common like "my love" or "my dear"! He wouldn't be against being called with a pet-name either, though he would take a little while getting used to it, feeling embarrassed for the first few times.

#ask answer #ooc answer #Neyha'li Nujuun #Everaux Troissant #ffxiv #Thank you for the ask!#kinky trashcat vs the vanilla elf

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scotianostra · 2 years

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Happy Birthday Scottish actor Ewen Bremner, born January 23rd 1972 in Edinburgh.

Prior to Trainspotting, Bremner gave a striking performance in Mike Leigh's Naked, fellow Scot Susan Vidler played his girlfriend Maggie in this excellent film.

More recently Ewen has been in the, in my opinion, very funny series Our Flag Means Death, the film Canyon Del Muerto about the worlds first female archaeologist and the highly rated Freedom's Path, set in the US Civil War, it is due out soon.

#scotland #scottish #actor #trainspotting #happy birhtday

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