#slug go zoom

[emptyjunior]

I'm rewatching Starstruck in the break, can I say I DESPERATELY would have loved to have seen this intergalactic chase across the stars from the Other Side😭

Like okay, campaign where you're a crew of kooky spacers on the run, classic, fun, oh the adventures we had.., can you Imagine what this story would have been like from the pursuers side? From Lucienne and UFTP?

You're Lucienne and you just got SCREWED on the corporate ladder and are already dealing with some rich trust fund kid DYING yet also leaving you in Charge of an insane company.

And during that you find out oh my god the world might be destroyed?? And there's a Princeps who has a super special computer that will decide the fate of the universe? So you stash them away to keep them safe and go back to covering up the murder you might be to blame for, because universe destroying computer is like priority TWO right now.

And then you find out?? Your ex lover friend has become a pirate???! And has STOLEN the princeps??! AND THE WORLD ENDING COMPUTER??! And quit??! And posted Nudes to the world??! And they look amazing?

So okay okay new priority is FIND THEM right NOW so you send all the resources in the world to go snatch them up which should be easy enough because you've seen them run, they're literally a weak and flailing office worker in a pencil skirt.

Welp! Next report comes in and they exploded a building with sex putty??? And decimated a fleet of the best fighters you can hire? And had time to go to a dogshow in between???

Fine, okay, it's fine because you KNOW they'll slip up again and they do! They show up,,., in a live stream? Partying with the ceo of space uber?? In a casino? That they just OPENED? WHILE THEY'RE ON THE RUN?!

So you go to that planet and go to contact the sheriff and his Head is on a Fucking Spike because your Friend absolutely wasted him? And kicked every police officer out of town so the whole town could go super super hard for space burning man?

And have escaped Again.

So now you're in some kind of room with like 20 screens and probably two blackberries in each hand, going full manhunt. Face recognition software, algorithms, zooming in on photos and yelling Enhance.

And you find them! And they👏 are👏 at👏 Disneyland👏! What! The! Fuck!

You send your best guys again! (And also??! These 'best guys' maybe have a space slug in their skull that's going to end the world! Can't even focus on that rn!). And then when they get back, happy and proud they show you the Princeps that they've captured and it's god damned thin air! Because it was a hologram and this dumb sonuva bitch is zonked out of his mind from a fish psychic. Great, of course. Of Course.

You're being hounded by your company, you still don't know where your 'dead fiance' is, you're running out of time. How are you ever going to find them- You check your phone they are doing a hunger games at Las Vegas. And a rival company has made them influencers. And they're famous.

Of course.

But you do pull it off in the end! You get them! You imprison them! And their one fatal flaw? They decided to reunite one of their crew members with their birth mother while being wanted criminals.

So that's the chase you got them (they escape again of course they escape, and the birth mother turns out to be a Hell of a business woman and maybe just did a masterful corporate maneuver on you.)

And it's so important to know that this entire time you've been chasing a Big Hot Dog.

[evilkaeya]

Dazai and his silly little handycam (an ongoing saga because I love thinking about happy and silly dazai causing mayhem)

video #1

video #2 | 9 minutes 47 seconds

It starts with Dazai hovering over a sleeping Chuuya on bed. It’s night time, the room is dim lit and you can barely see anything but does the demon prodigy care? No. He zooms in on Chuuya’s face- mouth hung open, snoring, limbs spread like a starfish.

“Slug is asleep,” he whispers, like it’s not obvious and then turns the camera towards himself to show his signature smirk, along with a marker.

“It’s permanent,” he says before turning it to Chuuya again, who’s still blissfully passed out. Dazai pokes his cheek with the marker and giggles.

Then he starts drawing on Chuuya’s face like it’s his last piece of canvas. He draws a big slug on his right cheek, writes ‘my dog!’ on his left, gives him beard and a moustache, plays tic tac toe on his forehead (he crosses out a row of circles and says “I win!” like he hadn’t just played against himself).

Once satisfied with his work he sits up and giggles again, clearly overjoyed with how the prank turned out. Oh Chuuya is going to mad mad in the morning.

He slowly turns around and tries to get off the bed, everything according to plan, he thinks as he steps on his own coat and falls over with a loud yelp.

“HUH-” Chuuya jolts awake with a yell and Dazai quickly rolls under the bed. If the room was just dark, it’s pitch black under there and Dazai struggles trying to fit. Above him Chuuya shouts again, “I fucking heard you! Who-”

The camera falls from Dazai’s hand with a thud.

Dazai holds his breath. The camera is facing to a side, showing only Chuuya’s slippers. Slowly, a head peaks out from above the bed and-

They lock eyes. 

“Boo,” the younger boy says.

Chuuya screams. The bed cracks under intense gravity.

“Oh fuck,” Dazai curses and the bed breaks.

The video ends.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Catastrophic Blues - part 2

Part 1

Written for @sjmromanceweek

Prompt: Free Day

Welcome to my part 2!! And probably last. It took me so long to find these two a decent closure, now I wrote it in one day and I feel eMpTy

Warnings: language and innuendos?

Words: 2,3k

Aelin’s hurried footsteps were barely audible on the bustling airport, while the umpteenth last call for her flight to Suria blasted through the speakers. A few aimless passengers curiously watched her, a reminder that this scene would be a lot prettier if she stopped skipping cardio at the gym.

In her defense, the bookstore was too far from her gate, and you can’t rush finding the perfect rom-com.

At her designated gate, Aelin was one of the very few last to arrive. She held her pillow and bag close, rushing through the straight corridor of the airplane. Not minding the passengers staring at her, but trying to ignore a very specific one that followed her with his gaze the entire time.

When Aelin finally found her seat, she didn’t even find time for her muscles to settle before he said, “Still running on your own time zone, I see.”

His deep voice was always quick to soothe her, but this time it brought back a wave of melancholy that haunted her days, way too persistent in comparison to her previous heartbreaks.

“I thought you weren’t coming anymore.” Aelin shouldn’t pry, but she couldn’t help herself. Rowan did say he would still go on the trip with her, but that was before his new relationship. “I’m surprised Lyria let you.”

“She didn’t. We broke up.”

“Oh.” This was unexpected, given Lyria’s annoying loving posts on Instagram.

“We really did.”

“I’m finding it hard to believe you.”

“You should.” Rowan had this boyish grin on, it was hard to believe he was talking about his latest ex.

“Of course.” Fuck, this is awkward. “I’m sorry,” she lied.

“Don’t be. Lyria was… you know—”

“I don’t. Please don’t enlighten me.”

“Fair enough.” He slugged into the airplane seat that was almost too small for his frame, and the lightness of his expression had faded away by now. “I just realized that this trip meant more to me than her.”

“Because of the money we wasted, you mean?”

Rowan furrowed his brows, his gaze unfocused when he said, “Something like that.”

“Wow.” Aiming for levity, she chuckled. “Now it kinda feels like I dodged a bullet.” Well, he did just say that he’d rather lose the girlfriend than waste the money. Aelin had to keep things light to survive this trip.

However, he didn’t seem to find it as funny. “No. Actually—“

“What’s the itinerary again?” She asked, desperate to change the subject from his love life.

Of course, Rowan had a copy of their entire trip plan on his phone. They’d arrive at the hotel too late to explore Suria, but tomorrow they’d have a—

Aelin snatched the phone from Rowan’s hand, zooming in the details of the excursion.

“Did you book us in a tour for seniors?”

“You said you wanted to relax.” He took his phone back. “There’s no tour calmer than one made for the elderly.”

˜˜

“I’M BURNING THROUGH THE SKY, YEAH!” A chorus of the nicest old people Aelin had ever met sang in the small bus, still bursting with energy after several hours of touristing in Suria.

Emrys, the tour guide, had a guitar to entertain everyone during the longer stretches inside the bus, while his husband drove and sang along with them. Most of the passengers were either clapping to the rhythm of the song—which was Rowan’s choice of participation—or singing their lungs out, like Aelin when she put her hands around her mouth to shout, “200 DEGREES, THAT’S WHY THEY CALL ME MR. FAHRENHEIT!”

The initial goal of this trip had been relaxation, but her active little tour group had been a small blessing today.

Rowan paid for a small, extra bed in their room, but last night and this morning were still uncomfortable. Sharing a room and being this close left a hollowing type of ache inside her, but taking a bath after him just to start the day with the smell of his cologne and shaving cream completely ruined her mood for breakfast.

But now, between the tour and singing and assisting cute old people with their phones, Aelin and Rowan didn’t have the time to be awkward around each other.

Or worse, they were easily falling into an old, comfortable rhythm.

The tour’s last stop was on a closed street for pedestrians. The tourists were eager to get off the bus and join the lively street, filled with shops, restaurants, and street artists trying to be louder than the pedestrians’ chatter. Outside, the smell of fried street food lured Aelin like a magnet, but Rowan watched their new acquaintances disappear into the crowd with a surprised grin.

The hand he kept on her back while descending the bus’ small corridor slid to her hip outside, and he whispered on her ear, “I think we are the elderly ones.”

His breath fanning against the shell of her ear sent a shiver down her spine, and by the way his hand tightened around her hipbone, he noticed it too.

“We?” Aelin shrieked, forcing a smile despite the heat on her cheeks. “Buzzard, I’m going dancing with Emrys right now.”

Aelin scurried away, her back already to Rowan when she realized the ease in which Rowan’s old nickname fell from her lips and cringed. It’d only be weirder if she returned to take it back.

Emrys was swaying alone in a small crowd around a saxophonist, and Aelin was quick to join him. The man knew how to lead a dance, and he led her so well her mind wandered back to Rowan.

Turns out she was a lot less over him than she thought. Big fucking deal, Aelin just needed to keep in mind that they broke up for a reason. A jazz version of some trendy pop music blasted behind them, and Emrys twirled her in a way that flared her long green skirt, making her laugh despite feeling conflicted.

She doubted Rowan would want her back after all this time, especially since his breakup with Lyria was so new. But in the few glimpses she took, he watched her every move, leaned against a streetlight, arms crossed with a knowing grin on. When the song ended, Emrys hugged Aelin and smiled at someone behind her.

“You looked like you wanted your girl back,” the old man said to Rowan’s approaching figure.

He just nodded and said his goodbyes before leading Aelin away, a hand on her waist.

Rowan was onto something, he had to be.

His thumb went up and down in unsettling strokes on her waist while they quietly strolled down the street, his arm around her wiring her every nerve. Aelin feigned interest in the boulevard as she tried to slow her breathing. This was a low blow after two months swatting away memories of his bulky arms nestling her, picking her up, yanking her down.

“Where am I buying you dinner?” Rowan asked against her ear yet again, giving her another shiver.

This was getting ridiculous. It had to be intentional.

“Here.” Aelin pointed at a street vendor nearby, heart racing. He wanted to snuck her into a closed, dark place and buy her fancy food? Nuh-uh. Not today.

The break-up happened for a reason, Aelin reminded herself, though it was hard to remember which reason was that. No matter how many times she said it to her mirror.

Undeterred, Rowan found them a bench near the vendor and joined the small line by the cart. With both hands on his pockets, he sent her a small smile, eyes crinkling as if waiting there to buy his ex food was the highlight of his day.

Aelin looked away. This is a trip with his ex he forced himself to go because of the money already spent. No need to overthink what she already overthought two months ago, it wasn’t relevant if her feelings changed or not.

As her treatment worked and Aelin realized she ended a permanent thing because of a temporary situation, the gaping hole in her chest opened further and further, almost swallowing her whole.

But everything was already said and done, no going back now.

Besides, Rowan’s probably over her by now. Maybe he just wants ass and thinks that what happens in Suria stays in Suria. That’s… highly unlike him, but he’s still a man, and that’s what Aelin needs to tell herself to get through this evening.

He sat beside her sooner than expected, coming back with pan-fried trout.

Aelin pouted. “You know I don’t eat fish.”

“Give it a try.”

“What happened to good old french fries?”

“Come on.” He playfully elbowed her. “I’ll get your fries if you at least try.”

She sighed, frowning at the trout. It did look perfectly edible and crispy. She held one and carefully inspected it before taking a bite. After breaking the delicious fried crust, Aelin tasted the most tender and moist flesh, the flavor of butter and herbs exploding inside her mouth.

“That good, huh?” Rowan teased, making her realize that she was practically orgasming next to him.

“You should’ve bought the fries. Now you’re going bankrupt with all the trout I’ll make you buy.”

He didn’t seem to mind, so they silently ate together, only making scarce comments about passers-by—and their dogs, in Aelin’s case. She ate her entire fish, then snuck bites of Rowan’s, to his snarling dismay.

He grabbed one of the vendor’s cheap, thin napkins. “Here, you have a…” Rowan slid it against her lower lip, sending her heart racing. Once done, he still cupped her face and brushed his thumb against her chin, then he smiled. “I think smudged red lipstick might be your best look.”

Aelin’s face faltered. “I think…” She added some distance between them and crossed her arms, feeling mad for him making her feel things she worked long and hard to suppress. “I think you’re using your lowest weapons, and I think it’s not fair.”

Rowan had the gall to cock his head and smirk. “I haven’t even tried using my lowest weapon yet.”

She got up. They were too close, her chest was too fluttery, and… no. She did it for him, and it was a little upsetting if Rowan didn’t recognize that, especially after she worked so hard to not rebel against her own decision.

“Aelin.” He followed her, hot on her heels no matter how much she tried to distance herself, on the crowded main street and then into a quieter side one. “Talk to me.”

She paused, taking deep breaths with her heart still racing, and Rowan knew better than to get nearer right now. “What’re you trying to do?”

“Win you back,” he said, plain and simple.

“Because we’re traveling together and sharing a room corrupted your thoughts?”

“No,” Rowan trailed, looking as if he couldn’t believe he had to explain something so obvious. “Because you broke up with me, but your reasons never convinced me.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, full of disbelief. “Was I supposed to think that while you dated Lyria?”

“Lyria was—“ He huffed. “You know—“

“You won’t get any points if you belittle her or—“

“I’m not trying to do that!” Rowan ran a hand through his hair, looking away for a second to gather his thoughts. “Look, I liked Lyria. She was nice. I only got serious with her because she’s someone I could see myself falling for.” Rowan swallowed, his pine-green eyes boring into her soul as he continued, “But it’s fucking impossible to do that if I’m still in love with you.”

Aelin crossed her arms, looking away and blinking hard so she wouldn’t lose control of her emotions. “You’re not.”

“Seriously?”

She glared at him.

“I love you. Is that what you don’t wanna hear?”

Aelin took a deep breath and sat on the sidewalk curb, not caring about the cute skirt she bought in his favorite color a million years ago. She’d prepared for his hatred. Indifference. Even a hookup, worst-case scenario.

She did not prepare for Rowan still having feelings for her.

He sat by her side, eyes vacant. “Look, you were going through a hard time and I was worried. But you can’t stop me from worrying, and when shit escalates, my worrying does too.”

“I’m still fucked in the head—progressively better, but the trip’s kinda making me forget about it—I just think you’re happier without me.”

“I’m at my happiest when I’m with you.” Rowan sighed, looking up now. “In a relationship, we’re supposed to go through shit together. Not to break up because things are hard, let alone to spare me. Spare me from what?”

“I’m trying so hard not to disagree with my own decision.”

“Then don’t.” He put his hand above hers on the sidewalk, tentative. “Take me back.”

Aelin tried to swallow the thickness in her throat while she fought her own instincts. Trying to distance herself from the memory of Rowan is one thing, but she was too weak to hear him out like this. Besides, he did have a good argument. It kinda added to the little voice in her head saying she ended a perfectly good relationship because of one bump in the road.

“I’m still in love with you too,” she confessed, the words hanging in the air with no closure to them, just that raw feeling.

Rowan reached for the side of her face, his hand slowly cupping her jaw. He stroked it with his thumb, his eyes looking for an answer in hers.

She silently gave it to him.

They hesitantly grew closer, her eyes half-lidded as Rowan grew bolder with her melting in his arms, until he lost patience and took her lips.

Aelin’s body relaxed when he washed her away with the familiarity of his mouth on her, and she had to break the kiss for a second to smile. This dopamine rush he spontaneously gave her was greater than any antidepressant and, right now, the one thing she felt in her bones was that she wouldn’t let go.

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[hollowtones]

final thoughts on zapper?

1st world isn't as bad as I remember, 2nd world is rough, 3rd world feels actively mean, 4th world is mostly kind of boring. If child-me had played past world 2 I think I would actively hate video games today.

Sound design is consistently real weird and unpleasant but sometimes that wraps around to being funny

Level design doesn't usually feel very interesting & if you're trying to get all collectibles it sometimes feels tedious. The best bits are the little self-contained bonus rooms & the levels where things are more puzzle-focused. I don't think it really needed a boss fight at the end but I'm glad there was only one, rather than one for each world / each level.

Individual art assets are okay, but sometimes levels are a little hard to parse visually & paths you are allowed to take aren't very clear. Issues with depth perception. Fixed perspective makes it hard to see details on the models I thought were cute. (At least we have Dolphin free camera...)

Visual theming of levels feels really, really incongruent, outside of the first world. I still don't know if I like this or don't. But it sure is noticeable!

The jump button snaps you in weird directions sometimes & every time it makes me scared for my life. It straight up killed me in some of the moving platform segments. Sometimes the jump lets you get to very high platforms and sometimes it makes you jump over them and go into a pit.

Camera's weird. Zoomed in too close, very easy for things to just get you from off-screen. When you have to deal with moving platforms it feels straight up nauseating (& I basically never get motion sick!! This game got me!!)

Music is good.

This Did Not Need A Lives Mechanic. Getting knocked back to a checkpoint feels fine. Having to redo entire levels from the start because of bullshit getting me made me feel like a ghoul.

A lot of hazards have weird hitboxes. Spikes can kill you after retracting. An object can be fully moved past your location but if you move parallel to its trajectory it'll sometimes kill you anyway. Slow-moving enemies in front of you need the world's widest berth. Moving platforms in combination with hazards is a special hell. A couple times I was killed by a seeming act of god.

Mercifully short.

Zapper as a character is like if someone went "what if Gex didn't talk" and that's real funny to me. Also very funny that they gave a cricket lightning powers instead of, like... sonic / music powers. I guess "a wall of noise so loud it kills slugs and explodes bricks" wasn't cool enough for a radical, sardonic wise-guy.(??)

lol the bird has tits

This is just a Frogger game. It's kind of blatant. You can very clearly see the bones of "Frogger 2: Swampy's Revenge" in all of it. (The four screenshots I have seen of that game make it seem like its level design was much more easily readable at a glance, though. Four screenshots do not paint the picture of an entire game, but...) Honestly, I can respect the "we have Frogger at home" angle to it. They clearly wanted to make a game like this again, and good(?) on 'em for doing it, I think.

Didn't like it very much. Had a laugh, at least.

It's no "Claymates". (Future scholars will debate what she meant by this for decades.)

[howlingday]

Yang: Hey, where are you guys off to, anyway?

Ruby: Yeah! Shouldn't you be hanging out with your friends at Atlas?

Neon: (Turns away, Sniffles)

Flynt: We... Our enrollment...

Neon: We only lost once a-and...

---------------------------------------------------

Ironwood: Our academy has no place for failures. Both of you are to be expelled from Atlas immediately.

---------------------------------------------------

Flynt: Come on. We need go find a place to sleep. Maybe there's a hotel open that Atlas hasn't blacklisted us from.

Ruby: ...

Yang: (Grinds her teeth) A school that kicks you out because you lose one time isn't fit to be a school at all...

Ruby: Here. Take our room passes. You can stay at our dorm tonight.

Flynt: Wait, but what about you?

Ruby: We'll be back.

Yang: We just gotta go file a complaint with the headmaster...

---------------------------------------------------

BOOM!

Ironwood: What is going on?!

Winter: Sir, we're under attack!

Yang: (Slugs Atlas student) WHERE THE HELL IS YOUR HEADMASTER?!

Ironwood: (Steps out) Enough! Surrender now, and you won't be punished as harshly as you should.

Yang: Oh, are you the headmaster of Atlas Academy? (Cracks knuckles) I heard a rumor that anyone who loses one time has to be expelled from here.

Yang: If that's the case, then I'll expel you myself!

Marrow: Sh-She came here to pick a fight with the general?!

Elm: She's crazy!

Vine: This won't end well for her.

Yang: I might be just a student myself, but even I know that a one-loss-expulsion rule is the dumbest thing anyone's ever thought of. And that means I gotta set an example!

Ironwood: Bree!

Harriet: Sir!

Ironwood: Get rid of her.

Harriet: Sir!

Yang: What? Too chicken to fight me yourself, tin man? (Charges) Stop hiding behind your lackeys and fight me!

Harriet: You're not getting near the general! (Zooms past Yang, Throws backfist)

Yang: (Ducks, Swings an uppercut)

Harriet: (Steps back) Would you get lost?!

Yang: (Grabs Harriet) No, YOU GET LOST! (Slugs Harriet, Rockets her into the ceiling) My fight isn't with you! It's with Iron-Wuss!

Ironwood: Hmph. Impressive. Fine. Fight me.

Yang: (Swings with a right cross)

Ironwood: (Catches it with one hand, Catches the other fist)

Yang: (Swings with both legs, Stomps left side and right thigh)

Ironwood: (Drops Yang's hands, Swings hook)

Yang: (Uppercuts, Launches prosthetic)

Ironwood: (Follows the hand, Thinking) Dammit! She caught me off guard!

Yang: (Uppercuts free hand into his solar plexus, Catches prosthetic in socket, Blitz) LET'S SEE YOU CATCH THIS, TIN MAN! (Flares up semblance, Swing hard cross)

Winter: (Stops with glyph) ENOUGH!

Ironwood: (Panting) Schnee!

Winter: Surrender now, and you both can go free!

Yang: Both? But Ruby is-

Penny: Hello, Yang!

Ruby: Yang! I'm sorry! I didn't think Penny would capture me!

Winter: I will not ask again. Leave, or your sister will be harmed.

Penny: But that is not-

Yang: Fine!

Winter: (Taps scroll)

Ruby: (Cuffs come off) YANG!

Yang: (Hugs Ruby) Are you okay?

Ruby: I'm fine. They just caught me off guard, and then I saw Penny, but I thought we were friends, and I-!

Yang: Hey, hey, it's okay, Ruby. We're okay now. It's not your fault. Let's head back. (Stands tall, Walks away) By the way, here's a fair warning to all of you Atlas bastards. Beacon ain't gonna lose, so you all might as well get packed up for your expulsion.

Winter: (Thinking) That was too close! To think, this is the same academy Weiss chose to attend! What other monsters are they training at this school?

---------------------------------------------------

Weiss: You did WHAT to Atlas Academy?!

Yang: So I did a little raid. Would've won if they didn't fight dirty.

Ruby: I'm sorry, Yang!

Yang: Hey, hey! It's not your fault, Rubes! If it's anyone's fault, it's that shifty lady.

Blake: That wouldn't have happened if you had asked me to attend. We're partners, so I should be involved in the same amount of fights as you.

Weiss: That is not the issue here!

Neon: (Sleeping soundly)

Ruby: Where's Flynt?

Weiss: He's sharing a dorm with Team JNPR. He said it would be really awkward for him to share a room with only girls.

Yang: Tch! Seeing her sleeping here instead of with her team pisses me off all over again! (Stands up) That does it! I'm going back to them for one more round!

Blake: Okay. Count me in.

Weiss: Since when have you been so bloodthirsty?! And the answer is still no!

[gazingstarsabove]

DRINK and DRIVE!!

IDEA I GOT AT 4 AM, SORRY IF GRAMMAR IS MESSED UP– HC's of how the fellas would drive!!

–·Hank is not the best driver, think we all can agree on that. He's either always hitting a hundred miles per hour or he's going slug slow, like there's no in between. Hold onto your seats because this man is probably gonna crash at every turn! Does not have a driver's license, nor the knowledge about anything related to cars tbh

–·Ngl but Sanford would be decent, prolly had been a get away driver a couple of times before. In the SQ they'd always pick him to drive, unless he's drunk, that is. I really do feel like he'd have a driver's license but the cars he drives do NOT have any plate number so uh

–·Deimos uhhhhhhhh, he'd drive a motorcycle more than a car my instincts just tell me this guys trust me. But overall he'd be okay, definitely not any better than Hank though. He smokes even when the windows are closed and the AC is on, while you're just choking beside him. Does not have a license

–·Do I really have to talk about Doc? Look, he might be smart and be a (unlicensed) doctor but man, mf gonna be tripping on the wheel. The trunk is probably gonna be open and he wouldn't NOTICE. Claims he has a license, but obviously does not

–·Tricky doesn't need a car, he can go underground and just zoom. He'll probably eat the tires of the cars though, says their very chewy and the flavors differ from car to car. Will literally just sit on the roof of the car while you're driving, you probably won't even notice. Obv does not have a license.

–Auditor would not be the one driving, he has hired agents and get away drivers incase an ambush or anything else happens. He's usually in one of those long ass black cars that only have 3 or 2 people inside, has his own wine collection inside(and soda's). But he won't give you some. I don't really think him having or not having a license would be any different because- it's not him driving!!!

–·The Sheriff knows how to drive, a little bit better than Sanford since he is the sheriff ykyk. If you were to ever sit on the passengers seat, he'll treat you like a damn passenger princess. Will rest his hand on your thigh, tells you to get stuff from areas he can't reach. But overall is a pretty good driver. He has a driver's license, may or may not have some beers behind the trunk.

–·Jeb would be a nice driver too, just don't expect him to talk much. He gets his priorities straight - fixes the rearview mirror, the gears in the right place, his pace not too fast nor too slow, checking his blind spots when backing up. He can be ur personal driver, if he thinks fondly of you. He's a good driver, but mostly just levitates or floats around. Has a license

–·Director Phobos would be much similar to Auditor, maybe they'd even gossip sometimes when they're in the same car. Though unlike Auditor, Phobos is much more talkative, and he has a lot of sass too like goddamn. It's a friday evening and he STILL complains about either the weather or his "great" plans in Nexus Core. He gets out of the car like a princess, one hand on his cape, one hand on the agent's hand. Careful not to trip on his 6 inch heels.

[monstersdownthepath]

Various dream beasties

So about 4 or so days ago, I found out by complete accident checking the notes for my main blog (which I try my best to keep separate from this one; do not ask for it. if you find it you find it) that looking at an old post of yours will show you similar posts you made from around the same time. Because of that, I re-discovered the old tag I used to chronicle the strange dreams I had, especially when I dreamed up particularly odd beasts. Some I’ve already turned into existing concepts, but some I had completely forgotten about!

Below the cut is a few I found that I still like, even after all these years and separated by whatever context I was thinking of at the time. Most of them I don’t really have plans or even a solid concept for, but if enough interest is shown in them, I may dust them off and turn them into something.

THE ORO

One of the strangest. According to the post, the dream was centered on an elaborate children’s school play in which the POV character was tasked with guarding some form of machine from various ‘attackers.’ Eventually, the task was failed as the ‘saboteurs’ broke the machine, causing an announcer to read off the names of everyone who was now ‘forfeit’ because the Oro would now come to ‘collect its due.’

An ominous rhyme was spoken that I wrote down: “The Oro is hunger, the Oro is hate, the Oro’s the end to the souls that it ate” as little fabric ‘souls’ were taken from various plants in the audience, causing them to dramatically fall over as the ‘souls’ were sucked into a gigantic, elaborate puppet of a grub-like creature with four tiny, tentacular arms and a sheet with alien runes draped over its ‘face.’

Eventually, though, the ‘camera’ zoomed out and revealed the entire school has been sealed from outside contact by heavy iron doors. The words “ORO DRILL IN PROGRESS! DO NOT ENTER!” are over every door and window. In the distance, the real Oro approaches at a glacial pace. Its body is slug-like, made up of sagging pallid flesh that’s draped with scraps of white or pale cloth. Despite its appearance, it’s bone dry. It has four rubbery limbs on its front that waver like insect antennae, and its body terminates in a ‘head’ that’s a round, white ovoid pushed into its front, like a chicken egg into clay. It has no face, but it has the impression of one on the paper and cloth scraps draped across its head, which are all scrawled with the same alien runes as its play version.

The dream ended before the Oro reached the building, but people began screaming from within as it drew closer, as though they could sense it nearby without being able to see it. Waking-me added on an extra bit of whimsy; the puppet version had a balloon that drifted over it that the play-souls ended up in, so the real Oro had a balloon of unnaturally dry, latex-like mucus that it blew from an orifice on its back, in which it would contain the souls it drained from its victims via doing... something. It’s never said how or why the Oro does what it does, or even if it really eats the souls or merely stores them for some dark purpose.

----

IT’S GOING TO HAPPEN

A shorter post, but no less strange. The stars of the dream were zombies choked with plantlife; vines and leaves sprouted from under their skin and pulled them along, colorful flowers growing without rhyme or reason across their body, which acted as their sensory organs. Nothing in the dream told of how the infection started, was spread, or how far into the infestation the world was. What was the focus was the sounds the plant-zombies were making: “It’s going to happen.”

No groaning, no moaning, no sentence fragments. A perfectly audible, understandable sentence repeated ad infinium by every undead within earshot of a living person: “It’s going to happen.”

The ‘heroes’ of the dream dismembered dozens of them before locking their remains in a warehouse before becoming distracted by a different plotline, but eventually the dream came back to that very same warehouse, now overgrown with unnaturally verdant plantlife. The foundation was creaking and groaning, and eventually human limbs poked through the tangles to force open windows and the doors of the warehouse. Just before the dream ended, though, the POV apparently zoomed in on one of the windows, where a pair of glowing green eyes could be seen in the darkness between the vines, and the line was repeated just before the dream switched entirely: “It’s going to happen.”

----

“THE MENTOR”

TW for self harm, drug overdoses, general themes of drug use, and eye horror.

This one was one of the longest posts in the tag, and followed the exploits of a grizzled noir detective--”the most stereotypical one you could envision,” apparently--investigating a bizarre series of murders in which the victims all appeared to be overdosed on a drug that defies being analyzed. They know it’s a string of murders and not just a rash of unfortunate circumstances, because each victim’s eyes are missing, removed with the precision of a surgeon.

Without going too much into needless detail (the post is extremely long; i’m surprised i never did anything with it), there are some breaks in the case: there’s a woman who claims to be on the mystery drug, and even managed to steal a sample of it from ‘the Mentor’ before she escaped it. She can’t elaborate on who or what the Mentor is, only that she refuses to be alone so it cannot find her. Thanks to her unfortunate help, it’s revealed that the drug supercharges the victim’s senses; she can see, hear, feel, taste, etc “everything” according to her, to the point it’s debilitating, painful, and completely overwhelming. Had she not gotten to the detective when she did, there was a chance her brain would have simply burned out from the overstimulation. Even though they have a sample of the substance, the detective’s assistants have a hard time analyzing it for reasons that aren’t explained.

The unfortunate victim is placed into sensory deprivation until the drug works its way out of her system, but not before she states where she got the supply. The entire time, by the way, the detective has apparently been seeing flashes of glowing red eyes on various rooftops, down alleys, and around corners, so he tells everyone in his lab to be on guard as he heads out to find the dealer. The dealer is a hulk of a man run through by countless sharp implements, eager to tell the detective how the drug lets him “really feel,” and how eager he is to “experience” the detective’s violence. A massive struggle ensues where the hulking man reveals he’s practically superhuman, shrugging off almost everything done to him even when the wound logically should have killed him (a knife in the heart, mainly). Soon, though, it’s shown that for all his toughness, he can’t resist the loss of blood and the damage from his own broken bones; he lasts far longer than he should, to a supernatural degree, but eventually he’s beaten.

Before he dies, he reveals he’s not the Mentor, but “you shouldn’t bother looking for the Mentor, it’s already looking for you.” God, two paragraphs ago I said ‘without going into needless detail’ didn’t I? I’m going to skip some more stuff now; if you want the full story, I’ll straight up copypaste it. The Mentor is eventually revealed to be a humanoid entity in a trenchcoat and wearing some sort of latex or rubber clothing over most of its body, with a gas-mask over its face that has glowing red eyes. It’s only when the detective stabs the Mentor that he finds out it’s not at all human; it’s latex, glass, plastic, and metal all the way down, its body surging with a purified and extremely potent version of the drug it’s been dealing. Inside glass canisters in its chest, dozens upon dozens of eyes, all taken from its victims.

The Mentor’s body stretches and deforms with the sounds of creaking metal and grinding glass as it fights the detective, its gas-mask-like face gradually deforming into the head of a plastic mosquito, mouth dripping with its drug. It scores a blow on the detective, and as his senses sharpen from the powerful dose, he looks at it and says “oh. is that what you really look like?” which, for some reason, causes the abomination to recoil. He continues, madness in his eyes: “You helped them see the real world but hated what they saw in you. You’re afraid they’ll know what you are.”

Whatever this means, the Mentor shrieks mechanically in some sort of rage, which awakens every OD victim as a zombified husk. This plotline is apparently abandoned by the dream, as nothing comes of it, but it’s important to note anyway. The Mentor and the detective have one final, climactic battle, but he’s no match for the inhuman creature and is eventually overcome; one of his eyes is stolen, the other destroyed by its proboscis. However, backup arrives and chases it off before it can kill them, and though it escapes, the dream ends on a somewhat positive note because the pure sample of the drug from the detective’s wounds lets the police lab synthesize an antidote for it, saving the detective’s life and potentially the lives of any of its future victims.

----

THE THREE DEVILS

Simpler, because this was a daydream that never ended up getting used. There were three entities, all with concealing robes over their bodies that shrouded everything about them. Even their hoods fell over their heads so their faces, if they had them, couldn’t be seen.

All three of them are powerful figures that grant people’s wishes. They each can grant just about any wish, but each of them has a different specialty, a type of wish they are drawn to more than any other. While at first they seem to act altruistically, anyone that calls on them more than once begins to see the mounting price of their work–the more wishes they grant, the more chaotic and unstable the world gets, and the one type of wish they cannot grant are wishes to travel through or alter time to rectify one’s mistakes. The other type of wish they will not grant is a wish that directly undoes a different wish, which would eventually cause a horrid breakdown of the very laws of physics, were it not for the repeated “weakness” they possessed in that they can be tricked into indirectly undoing wishes.

I called them “devils” but in Pathfinder terms, they work more like daemons. They want reality to collapse and are willing to unhinge it as much as they can by gifting mortals wishes and then twisting them into unraveling the world.

The Sodden Devil is dressed in moldering grey-green, it’s robes thoroughly soaked and so heavy that it is forced to hunch, and carries a thick driftwood cane to lean on. It specializes in granting wishes that would directly benefit others, especially ones that result in one or more lives being saved, either immediately or over the long-term. Of the three, the Sodden Devil possesses the most foresight, which borderlines flat-out omniscience. It can always tell when one of its wishes will have a “big payoff,” even thousands of years in the future.

The Ashen Devil is dressed in a blackened, ash-stained robe, smoke constantly wafting from its “feet” and trailing from its “hands” as it moves its arms, the hems of its robe burning almost constantly but never shrinking down. The Ashen Devil specializes in wishes that would quickly cause vast amounts of change on scales both great and small. It snorts at the ideas of balance and order, often dressing up its opinion as a dislike of “stagnation” and the decay that complacency and unchanging laws eventually cause. Of the three, the Ashen Devil is the least subtle but perhaps the most powerful, it’s wishes manifesting explosively (in one fashion or another), not only responsible for numerous natural disasters, but some say that it is also responsible for almost every social upheaval in history, either directly or indirectly. Of the three, the Ashen Devil could use the biggest rework, but I’m not sure what I could rework it to.

The Devil in Red is the tallest of the three, towering over its brethren and most mortals. It dresses in fine red robes and decorates itself with lavish jewelry, and it manipulates items and beings with rope-like mists of perfume that waft from it rather than any physical limb. It specializes in wishes that are entirely selfish and self-serving, benefiting the wisher and very few–if any–others. As such, the Devil in Red is the “most popular” of the three, seeing the most summons by the greedy and the desperate; the other two usually must seek out patrons to offer their power, but the Devil in Red is called directly more often than not. It revels in this attention and in the slow, mounting discord that it’s work causes as people wish for things that put greater and greater strain on reality.

I could potentially make a Daemon Harbinger out of these three; harbingers of wishes gone wrong and deals having unforeseen consequences. Sacred animal? Monkeys. ... actually, y’know, I could rework them a little further for more irony...

----

THE TALENT SCOUT

This is the one that inspired me to make this post, despite the difficulty one would experience trying to fit it into the Pathfinder setting. I find the creature’s design and modus operandi too fascinating not to share, and I’m surprised I never did anything with the concept! It fits well into a more modern setting; possibly Starfinder, a modern-day PF setting, or the setting of a different TTRPG such as Monster of the Week, or one of the many World of Darkness modules.

The Talent Scout is a hunched figure that dresses in a shabby tan trench coat (the second trenchcoat monster from my dreams, and certainly not the last) and a wide-brimmed hat (the Mentor also had one, natch) that cast a shadow over its face. Where that face should be was a giant camera lens, but in the dream the rest of its head was never seen, so I assume it’s only the camera lens. The rest of its body, however, was flesh and blood. In fact, it had a cluster of eyes of varying sizes embedded in each of its palms that it used to peer around corners or obstacles on the lookout for its next “star.” Anyone it snapshotted with its camera eye became cursed.

Each night, a cursed victim would dream they were on a movie set, being forced to act in a film. The conditions would steadily worsen over time, with the victim eventually gaining no rest as they slept due to the poor quality of care they got from the unseen director, awakening ragged, exhausted, and eventually even bearing injuries they sustained while ‘on set.’ Eventually, after about a year, the victim would vanish completely in their sleep. Across the world, new VHSs or DVDs would appear in stores, flea markets, yard sales, packed in Redboxes, and the like.

The movies on the VHS/DVD were generally low-quality, mediocre horror films starring the victim (or victims on some occasions), though the special effects detailing the victim’s injuries were frighteningly realistic– because they were real. The movies usually ended with the victim’s horrid demise at the hands of a monster, a criminal, or a natural disaster, but even in the cases where they didn’t die, they were left in a situation in which their survival was not likely. In any case, the victims are never seen again once they vanish, and there was seemingly no way to rescue them from their fate, as destroying the medium they were held on just caused a new one to appear elsewhere the next time the Talent Scout was in the area.

[ribbondee]

Three Little Words, a PMATGA Nether Princes Oneshot

Summary: Being a dad is tough. Especially when you have four kids, and said kids are each a miniature tornado all on their own.

This was written as a gift for @toad-in-a-trenchcoat for their Nether Princes AU.

—----------------

"DAD!"

"Daddy!"

"Da da!"

"*grunt*"

Betrayus woke up with a start. He was being tugged, jumped on, and shaken.

All four of the pups continued to do this like they did every morning, shouting all the while.

"I'm up I'm up-"

They stopped and began to hover in front of the throne.

"Daaaaad I'm hungry", whined Blinky.

"Dad, I had a bad dream", Inky cried.

"I frew up", said Pinky. As for Clyde, he just let out a large belch.

Betrayus just sat up (or did the best a ghost could in that regard). "Go to Buttler. He'll fry you all up some slugs."

With that, the quartet let out cries of glee and zoomed away.

The dad stretched, if he had bones they'd surely be cracking. Almost every day he asked himself why he continued to adopt more as they were discovered. One was alright. Two was a bit challenging. Three was pushing it. Four… oh no.

It wasn't all bad. He fondly recalled all the nights he had spent with the pups snuggled up against him, and how he had found himself growing attached.

But still. He was always so tired, reaching levels of exhaustion he had no idea was possible.

His original plan was to maybe catch a few more hours of sleep when…

"ARGH", came Buttler's distant voice. Oh. Not again.

Betrayus wasted no time in flying over to where the noise had come from. Yep. Clyde had bitten poor Buttler on the arm, apparently impatient.

"CLYDE", Betrayus shouted, "NO! DROP IT! HE'LL LEAVE A BAD TASTE IN YOUR MOUTH!"

Clyde did so, then Buttler sullenly went back to preparing the pups' breakfast.

"Daddy", three out of four pups squealed, floating up to him and hugging him. Clyde just stood by. This wasn't surprising; he still apparently wasn't used to typical displays of affection. In fact, Clyde did many things not considered typical.

Instead of talking, he communicated via grunts or single words. When he was angry, he would growl and bark. He truly was more like a wild animal than a baby.

This of course wasn't surprising in the slightest; when he was found, he was living with a pack of Netherworld creatures.

In fact, poor little Clyde was the one Betrayus was the most concerned about. Did Clyde even feel anything at all towards him? What would it be? Neutral? Love? …resentment?

Betrayus shuddered internally at that last option. He began to frown, much to the concern of the three hugging pups.

His eyes met Clyde's, who looked a bit confused. He found himself smiling and gesturing for Clyde to join in the hug.

Clyde looked unsure. Betrayus continued to gesture and coo towards Clyde.

Finally, Clyde began to slowly hover towards his dad. He looked at his siblings, apparently observing their behavior. He then flung himself forward, putting his little nubby arms around Betrayus as far as he could. He nuzzled his face into his dad's form, much to the shock/delight of Betrayus.

"I… lawf yoo."

Betrayus paused. "What?"

"I lawf yoo", Clyde squeaked again.

It was mispronounced, but it was obvious what he was saying. "I love you."

[originallandlockedmariner]

For three years running…

2020

Kobe. Pandemic. Lockdown. Koalas on fire. Harry and Meg retire. Toilet paper hoarding. Alcoholism. Impeach the f*cker. Parasite. Bonnie Henry. Tiger King. Working from home. Sourdough bread. Harvey Weinstein guilty. Zoom overdose. Dip your body in sanitizer. 6 feet. Quarantine. OK Boomer. Home schooling (everyone passes). Murder hornets. Dolly Parton. Don’t hug, kiss or see anybody, especially your family. Chris Evans’ junk. TikTok. Glory holes. Face masks. CERB. West Coast wildfires. Stay home. Small Businesses lose, big box stores win. F*ck Bozos. ‘Dreams’ and cranberry juice. Close yoga studios, but thumbs up to your local gym. Speak moistly to me. George Floyd. BLM. F*ck Trump. Phase 2, 3 and Summer. RBG. Baby Yoda. Biden wins. Bond and Black Panther die. No more lockdown. Back to school and work. Just kidding... giddy up round 2. Giuliani leaks shit from his head. Resurgence of chess. UFOs are real. Restrictions. Dave Grohl admits defeat. Monolith. “F*ck... forgot my mask in the car”. No Christmas shenanigans allowed. Bubbles. Alex Trebek. Use the term ‘dumpster fire’ one too many times. Jupiter and Saturn form 'Christmas Star'. Happy New Year Bitches!!!! 2021... you better not sh*t the bed!!

2021

“We love you, you’re very special”. Failed coup attempt at the Capital. Twitter, FB and IG ban Donny. Hammerin’ Hank goes to the Field of Dreams. Bozo no longer richest man but still a twat. Leachman, Tyson, and Holbrook pass. The economy is worse than expected. Kim and Kanye split. Brood X cicadas. Dre has an aneurysm and nearly has his home broken into. Bridgerton. MyPillow CEO is a douche. Covid restrictions extended indefinitely. Captain Von Trapp dies. Proud Boys officially a Terrorist Organization. Richard Ramirez. Cancer takes Screech. Travel bans. Impeachment trial (again?… oh and this was barely February? WTF??!!) Suez Canal blockage. Myanmar protest. Kong dukes it out with Godzilla, while Raya watches. Olympics. Friends compare elective surgeries. F9. Canada Women’s Soccer Gold. Free Britney. Multiverses. Residential Schools in Canada unearth children’s bodies. Kate is Mare of Easttown. Cuomo resigns. Disney and Dwayne cruise together. Wildfires. Delta variants. Musk passes Bezos. Candyman x 5. Capt. Kirk goes to space. F*ck Kyle Rittenhouse. Astros didn’t win. Squid Game. Goodbye Bond. Dune is redone. Angelina is Eternal. Astroworld deaths. Meta. Omicron. Three Spidermen. Tornados in December? World Juniors cancelled. Pills against Covid. School opening delayed. And Betty White dies. 2022… my expectations are ridiculously low…

2022

Wow… eight billion people. Queen Elizabeth II passes away after ruling the Commonwealth before dirt was invented. The monkeypox. Russia plays the role of global asshole. Wordle. Mother Nature rocks Afghanistan. Hover bike. Styles spits on Pine. Olivia Newton John, Kristie Alley, and Coolio leave us. Pele was traded to team Heaven. FTX implodes. Madonna and the 3-D model of her vagina. Pig gives his heart to a human. Beijing can brag that it is the first city ever to host both the Summer Olympics and Winter Olympics. Uvalde. $3 trillion Apple. Keith Raniere gets 120 years. The Whisky War ends with Canada and Denmark going halfsies. Mar-a-Lago. Nick Cannon brood hits a dozen. Shinzo Abe is assassinated. Inflation goes through the roof (if you can actually afford to put a roof over your head). Volodymyr Zelensky. European heat wave. Bennifer. Salman Rushdie is stabbed on stage, Dave Chappelle tackled, and Chris Rock is only slapped. Thích Nhất Hạnh. Heidi Klum goes full slug. Cuba knocked out by Ian. Liz Truss and 4.1 Scaramuccis. Taylor Swift breaks Ticketmaster. Human shitstain Elon Musk ignores helping mankind and buys Twitter instead. Riri becomes a mommy. NASA launches Artemis 1. Trump still a whiny little bitch. Music lost Loretta Lynn, Christine McVie, and Meat Loaf. Democracy died at least three times. Pete Davidson continues to date hottest women on the planet. Microplastics in our blood. Alex Jones is a cunt. So is DeSantis. Argentina wins the World Cup. Meghan and Harry. Eddie Munson rips Metallica in the Upside Down. tWitch. Roe vs Wade is overturned by the micro dick energy of the Supreme Court. CODA. James Corden shows he is a "tiny Cretin of a man". Amber (and the shit on the bed) Heard (round the world). Sebastian Bear-McClard proves he’s one of the fucking dumbest men alive. Latin America's ‘pink tide’. Anti-Semitic rants by Ye. Bob Saget. A verified blue checkmark. Godmother of punk Vivienne dies. And, Tom Cruise feels the need for speed yet again. 2023… whatcha got for us?!? Nothing shocks me anymore.

[all-the-pacs]

#4 - Pac-Man (Coleco Tabletop) (1981)

Now now, sweetie. We have Pac-Man at home.

Remember last week, when we said we were playing something that was officially sanctioned by Namco? Weeeell... We never said it was developed by Namco, just licensed.

Oh yeah, if Galaxian Hardware was us dipping our toes into the world of odd hardware, this is us full-on taking the plunge into the depths of the weird, obscure stuff we have to play. Behold, ladies and germs, the first official home port of Pac-Man! ...Technically, anyways.

For a tiny bit of background context, the Coleco Tabletops were Coleco's own foray into the handheld gaming market. Yes, handheld, albeit maybe only on technicality. These things were no larger than something you could rest on your desk, though you could perhaps hold them directly if you really had the dexterity for it; they were approximately the size of a lunchbox, though, so uh, good luck! Oh, and these were shaped like tabletop arcade cabinets. Coleco had the pedigree to handle electronic games by this point--after all, they made the ColecoVision console just a year after this, so we sure hope they would--so this isn't too shocking to see them here.

As for hardware... Look, we're not gonna sugarcoat it--these are Game & Watch-esque, Tiger Electronics-esque "sheet that lights up certain segments depending on the gameplay" graphics. This is why we had to expressly define what "video elements" meant, because if we didn't, we'd have to decide for ourselves whether to either include or exclude these sorts of games. Ultimately, we decided there was no harm in including these even if there aren't exactly any liquid crystal display elements to the display.

Now, you may be asking--how the heck do we plan to play this thing. This is a full on physical unit, and these things are like, 60-to-100 US bucks secondhand nowadays. And sure, this thing is definitely fair game for emulation, but how would you go about emulating this sort of device?

The answer's a little easier than you might've been expecting.

Thanks, Internet Archive! They have been and are continuing to be invaluable for this project. Case-in-point, they have several pre-configured setups powered by MAME right for you to use in-browser. Handy!

Let's zoom in a bit, and start the main game up.

...Gross. And we're not talking about the visuals, but... Maybe we are, because look at those ghosts! While the original Pac-Man hinted that the ghosts may have secretly been slug monsters, here they look more like... amoebas. It doesn't help that one of their eyes is just identical to the slice they're using for pellets, and inside their foreheads is... Pac-Man??? These look a lot like they're gelatinous blob monsters that already ate a Pac-Man! This is NOT how we expected the first game to display multiple concurrent Pac-Men (Pac-Mans?) would go.

As you can imagine from a game that looks this rudimentary, its sounds and gameplay are also pretty bare-bones. Pac-Man, the Ghosts, everything moves with strict adherence to the grid, as you can expect from a Game & Watch-style game. The maze has been simplified--so much so one of the ghosts has been kicked out of the pen and starts the game outside of it! Yet there's also dots immediately surrounding the ghost pen, and with that, zero spot for a Bonus Fruit whatsoever (We'd guess there was just no way to put it on the display, to be fair...)--fundamentally, this game does not, in fact, score like the Arcade version. Which we wouldn't remark upon if the manual didn't brazenly declare it scores like the arcade version. (More on the manual in a bit.) And yet they still somehow got Pac-Man starting by moving left perfectly intact? How baffling, but we're not complaining.

And, perhaps most importantly, the ghosts/amoebas lack unique colors... And indeed, unique behaviors of any kind. The colors are understandable, but the AI is definitely a major downgrade. Now they all act more-or-less the same, and seem to behave a bit like a reverse Clyde, wandering around aimlessly but trying their best to get to Pac-Man when he's nearby.

Probably the biggest change is the fact that these ghosts/amoebas can turn around 180 degrees. In Pac-Man, the ghosts will never reverse directions unless the player eats a Power Pellet--otherwise, they will only make 90 degree turns. Here, however? They will gladly turn around entirely and you have to be careful to avoid that. Being able to turn around freely when the ghosts couldn't was a huge advantage that the player had, but now it's gone! This definitely makes things more frustrating, and while this behavior is often associated with unofficial clones of the game, if you can believe it, this won't be the last time we see this in an official version of the game.

For whatever reason, when you eat a Power Pellet--er, a red pellet, seeing as there's only one type of pellet, just two colors for it--the Pac-Man inside the ghosts vanish? This is what actually clued us in those little dots were meant to be eyes, but then that raises a whole new conundrum... The pellets have pupils now.

Admittedly, this is kind of a Morton's Fork situation that naturally comes from trying to represent every game state in a little drawing like this--either one of the ghosts' eyes would not have a pupil, or now the dots have pupils--but honestly, we feel like maybe the former would've been better, because the latter just kinda looks plain creepy!

In any case, that's the end of the main game, but if you paid attention to the header, you'd know we have two entire other game modes to cover! Yep, this was technically the first Pac-Man game with side content to it.

The second mode, described as Head-to-Head Pac-Man, is... Weird. Another first for the series is concurrent multiplayer! Yep, it debuted here, and we guess a second player mode that happens simultaneously was seen as so impressive that they just had to call it a whole new mode. Fittingly, the handheld has a second joystick just for this.

But... y'know, it's not really all that incredible, mostly for no fault of its own, just because Coleco Tabletop Pac-Man just isn't exactly powerful to do this concept justice. Still, very strange to see simultaneous co-op Pac-Man on this dinky thing from 1981!

The third game mode, Eat & Run, is perhaps a little more interesting, though...

So, a lot of firsts here. Pac-Man has entered the ghost pen--er, the "base" if the manual is to be trusted--for the first time! Not only that, he starts in the base. And the ghosts are in the four corners with four power pellets, with zero normal pellets in sight! This is definitely weird to see so early on in the series, alright.

So, in this mode, you effectively have to play Capture the Flag. The ghosts are already out, and they're guarding the four power pellets--your flags, so to speak. Leave the base when it's open, grab as many of the pellets as you can, but victory doesn't happen when you eat all four. No, victory is only called depending on if you make it back to the base, and the more pellets you have, the more points you get! This means it's actually possible to die with zero pellets left in the maze.

And, of course, the base isn't always open--sometimes, its doors will open and shut, so you have to make it over where while it's open, unless you want to try surviving a cycle until it re-opens. This is a pretty interesting take on the game, and to be honest... It's probably as complex as this thing can handle. We kinda wish we saw a version of this with proper ghost AI and a proper maze (and if that's coming up, don't spoil us.), because it's a fun concept! It's just bogged down by this game and its... eccentricities.

...Oh, right, let's talk about the manual. We never had a better time to elaborate on this, but uhh... It's more than a little flowery, which is a double edged sword. The upside is that it's extremely funny for it! The downside is that it takes a bit of trial-and-error to learn how to work this thing on the Internet Archive's embedded emulator, because instead of clarifying how to start a game, it...

Okay, um. Let's just. Show you a collage of some of the headers in this manual. You'll see what we mean when we say it's extremely funny unintentionally, but also unhelpful when you're trying to find something about, say, how to play the game.

Goodness. Overdramatic, much?! It's just a Game & Watch-esque downscaling of Pac-Man! It's really not that heartfelt, adrenaline-filled, and sobering! Just tell me the button to press to start Eat & Run mode! ...Though, this could serve as a great fodder for blackout poetry, if anything, and as you can see above, it definitely makes for great snippets.

...Well, that's about it for the Coleco Tabletop Pac-Man. But we're not quite out of the woods just yet. So, um, next time around, expect something... Well, a little similar to this, but also a bit different. It's published by Bally Midway themselves, too! ...Technically, anyways. Look, it's complicated. We'll just be seein' you around.

[smute]

Charlie goes to his crusty bedroom and reads his precious Moby-Dick essay one more time while glugging from a two-liter bottle of bed-Pepsi. We get to hear his favorite part of the essay: “The whale doesn’t have any emotions, he’s just a poor big animal.” As a fat person who has actually read Moby-Dick, even the “boring chapters,” THAT IS NOT WHAT MOBY-DICK IS ABOUT OR WHAT MOBY DICK THE WHALE IS LIKE AT ALL. Obviously we’re supposed to draw some parallel between Moby Dick the actual whale and Charlie the human whale, but, like, why? What shallow fucking bullshit! Can you even map one on top of the other at all? Has anyone ever read Moby-Dick and thought, “wow, what a pathetic loser” about the whale? The ungraspable phantom of life himself???? Thin people don’t think of fat people as powerful and inscrutable phantoms—they’re absolutely positive they can scrute everything about us, our “everything” being CHEESY BUGLES! Hence this movie!!!!! Don’t talk about my favorite book, DARREN. I don’t come to your house and explain The Mystery Method wrong! Anyway, then Charlie uses his cursed rusty mobility aids to turn out the light and go to sleep. Spooky!

[...] How do fat suits work? Does Brendan Fraser have to wear individual little sausage tubes on each finger? I can’t stop thinking about how many awards the visual effects people (or whatever department makes fat suits) are going to win for this. It’s like if I got a Nobel Prize for drawing a mean picture of your grandma. Also, for the record, I know the fat suit was really expensive, but it looks weird! It doesn’t hang right! He looks like the mascot for an NBA team called the Wichita Big Pile of Raw Chicken. Hmm, if only there was a way to depict a fat person in a movie without an expensive flappy silicon slug bag!

While Charlie is in the bathroom crying (really), Thomas shows up again and Ellie introduces herself: “What’s more surprising—that a gay guy has a daughter, or that someone actually found his penis?” Wow, once again, thank you so much to Darren Aronofsky and playwright Samuel D. Hunter for spending TEN YEARS on this extremely humanizing screenplay! I feel seen, unlike my own genitals!!!

Charlie is so moved that he goes, “You wrote these amazing, honest things… You’ve all been so honest with me. I just want to be honest with you too.” And then he TURNS ON HIS WEBCAM and SHOWS THEM HIS HUGE FACE AND BODY! All the students lose it and they’re grimacing and cowering before him and taking pictures of the screen, LOL, even though literally it just looks like a regular guy???????? It’s a Zoom square! It looks like a close-up of a guy’s face! No one would have any reaction to this! If there’s one thing this movie does perfectly, it’s trick thin people into telling on themselves about how uncomfortable they are around fat people!

Then Liz comes back and reveals that, LMAO, what happened to Alan is that he starved himself to death (kind of), and that’s why now Charlie has to EAT himself to death. Wooooooow, who wrote that brilliant juxtaposition? Grover??? Is this supposed to be profound? It's less nuanced than when people say “the terrorists hate our freedom”! Actually, you know what? This detail with Alan is the central problem with this entire movie: Being thin is not the opposite of being fat!!!!!!!! STARVING IS NOT THE OPPOSITE OF EATING. Having a body is a complex state! [...] Then they clarify that actually Alan starved himself ALMOST to death and then jumped off a bridge. Jumping! The most thin-privilege way to die!

sorrynotsorry bout all the whale poasting but this review by lindy west was very cathartic for me! its a shitty movie and extremely triggering not just for fat people but anyone with any sort of complicated feelings around food and your own body tbh. so im sharing it here. butt news has a free subscription and lindy west is hilarious so. go read it and maybe read some other reviews too

[punch-chump]

Punch Chump Interview Pt 1

When did you get into Boxing?

A: Boxing found me at an early age. I was 4 years old when I saw my first boxing match on TV. I remember seeing these two men in red gloves, and the camera was zoomed in over the two boxers and they were slugging away at each other. I always remember that as my first boxing memory. Growing up I always wondered who those two boxers were, and it wasn’t until recently after doing research online that I found out that it was the Julio Cesar Chavez vs Ruben Castillo fight from April  1985. I credit those two men as my first boxing influences. At the time, I had never seen anything like it, and it got my attention in more ways than one!

Can you box, and how good are you?

A: I am currently training to box as a Masters boxer and I am still in the learning phase at the moment. Each training session I do gives me a greater appreciation of how hard boxers have to work to make it to fight night.

When did you discover you enjoyed being on the end of another boxer’s fists?

A: The first memory I have is seeing the box art for the game “Mike Tyson’s Punch Out” on the NES. My cousin had the game and I remember just staring at the box art of Mike Tyson punching out an opponent and it got me very excited. It wasn’t until years later that I discovered that I wanted to be that guy getting punched by Mike Tyson. When I first discovered gay online boxing in 1998 and started hooking up with guys I learned that I loved taking a punch and wanted more!!

When did you first hear the term “Punch Chump”?

A: I first heard that term from Boxer Daddy Doc and it really stuck with me. Although it’s slightly humiliating, I still wear that name with honor!

Do you identify with being one?

A: Wholeheartedly! But it depends on who I’m boxing with too. If I meet a fellow submissive I like taking on the Alpha boy role and boxing him around…but if a Dom wants to box me around and gets me in the right headspace, I will eat His leather until I can’t go on any longer.

What is it about taking punches from a more skilled boxer that you like so much?

A: Oh man, that’s a good question. The only way I can describe it is that it’s one man dominating another. Him imposing his will and skill over you. You think that you’re tough and you can take any man’s punch, but when you get overpowered by him, the dynamics change and you end up becoming the human punching bag.

[mywordsflowlikewater]

Old tune

How can music get old?   Lines grow mold, people are told that new music is gold.   Old music is classic some considered bombastic.   Some people throw it out like plastic and some gets recycled and remixed, like buying a new pair of kicks .  Thinking it has all the licks, but breaks like sticks, and flops like bricks.  Old music posses hits, the fact to say old isn't lit.  It is a mindset that refuses new music not from 2024, but new to your head.   New lines to be fed, new rhymes to be read.  New lines to imitate, and new ways to express instead of hate.  But you segregate your taste, by listening to the media that says oh wait! What's that music on your plate?   It's from 2003, that's out of style your too late.  Too late for the social media heaven gates.  Watch the fans balloon while your zooming on drugs.   Thinking you're a thug, but to me your a slug.  Who is too slow to comprehend, too much power to spend.  Too much influence to upend any social movements.   You're not an improvement, your protests are just dead music.   Your fight your loosing, so stop this false state of improvement.

A great artist once said face the music.  Freedom of speech is slowly going away.  Better hurry up and use it.  

[bikepackinguk]

Day Fifty-eight

Wakey wakey, noodles and tea!

Woke early near to Turnberry Lighthouse and used it to have a gentle start to the day, having a good brekkie to get myself set. It promises to be a tough day ahead.

Out and on to the road, it's a trundle down past the white houses if Turnberry, before joining the A77.

This is a pretty busy major road tracking the coast all the way down to Stranraer, so there's not much option except to slug it out with the traffic.

This leg down the coast has the imposing view of Aisla Craig looming constantly out to sea, a striking island that will remain in sight for near the entire day.

Heading on down the road I take a stop at Girvan for a brief respite from the traffic, and enjoy a nice stretch of riding along the coastline before we rejoin the road.

Many of the towns along the route do offer short stretches of pavement along the main road which I happily take advantage of, but alas they never last for long and inevitably the gauntlet must be run again.

Past the paved section around Girvan, it's into the climbs again with a tough leg around Kennedy's Pass; up around the cliffsides over the water. Thankfully most of the flow of traffic is heading the opposite way, which compensates a little for the rising headwind as I grind up and over the ascent.

The road descends back down through Lendalfoot, and I have a brief rest a little further on at the memorial to the Cruiser Varyag at Carleton Bay.

Back to pushing round the road and eventually I get into Ballantrae where I take a longer stop to refuel. The coast ahead becomes some stiff hills and thankfully there are some country lanes I can take to get the worst of the climbs done out of the heavy traffic.

Ascending up out from Ballantrae, it's some nice scenery but the single track roads soon turn into muddy farm lanes which, coupled with the steep gradients and rising wind, make for some heavy going.

After pushing through the muddy trails, it's back to the main road again, with the wind now reaching aome punishing strengths and making for really tough going, particularly with the various freight traffic rushing past.

As the road reaches Loch Ryan, it becomes lined with trees, which not only serve to block any views but manage to channel the winds along it. There's not much to do except keep my head down and push onward.

Eventually the road gets to the ferry terminals at Cairnryan, which does alleviate some of the traffic, and finally affords a nice gaze over the loch.

It's not too much further onwards before a proper cycle path appears to the side of the road, which I gratefully jump onto and can follow along the dinal leg of this awful road into the town of Stranraer.

That was a lot of work! I have a good break here after all the pushing through the wind, but there's still a few hours left in the day so I think a bit more riding can be squeezed in.

Rising past the pretty harbour here and the nice Agnew Park, I follow the A718 up the other side of Loch Ryan and the horrible headwind now becomes a strong tailwind that makes for a great help flying along the flat coastline road with a good view back over the water of where I've come past.

Up the hill past Kirkcolm, it's out to the west side of the peninsula and down a nice 2 mile downhill with the wind pushing me on to zoom down to see Corsewall Lighthouse with Northern Ireland visible through the mists on the horizon.

The 2 mile downhill with a tailwind now becomes a 2 mile uphill with the wind whistling in my face as it's the only way back, but c'est la vie!

Back up to the roads, the evening is getting on and I want to bed down soonish, but with the land ahead being dominated by farmland it's going to be tricky to find a good spot to setup that offers much shelter from this awful wind. As I'd seen some promising patches of woodland earlier on, I decide to backtrack and head on back towards Stranraer, fighting against the gusting winds once more to roll past the shore and head into a nice little copse of trees near to the golf course.

And here I lie! Today's been a lot of hard work but I'm happy overall with the progress. Whilst it's been dry today, the forecast isn't so promising for tomorrow, so we'll see what happens.

TTFN!

[harrietmjones]

Jenny Joyce: Durham

Jenny Joyce perfectly encapsulates what it is to be a Durham university student, with her easy access to a trust fund and unwavering superiority complex giving major ex private schooler energy no matter how hard she tries to deny it.

Though Jenny may try, she unfortunately isn’t quite up to par with the Oxbridge students, perfectly rendering her to the notorious Oxbridge Reject title that has haunted Durham students for decades.

Erin: Nottingham

Erin’s main-character energy and impeccable people-watching skills perfectly situate her in the campus uni that is Nottingham. Constantly surrounded by rugby boys and goss, Erin’s favourite past times would include frequently updating her diary, going slightly overboard on the £1 tequila shots at Ocean Wednesdays and causing absolute havoc at a concerning number of Lenton house parties.

Michelle: Leeds

From her scarily chaotic energy and lack of filter, to her inability to recognise when getting absolutely paralytic doesn’t quite fit the vibe, Michelle is the starter pack Leeds student who would be found drinking to her hearts content in Hyde Park at the drop of a hat. Here for a good time not a long time, uni lecturers are nothing but a distant memory.

Aunt Sarah: Newcastle

The Newcastle nightlife would be Aunt Sarah’s dream. Getting dressed up in a PLT mini-dress and heels, ready to hit up Slug & Lettuce and Insta boomerang her pornstar martini to her heart’s content, she’d slot right into the Geordie lifestyle in no time.

Gerry: York

A simple, unproblematic king, Gerry just wants to be somewhere peaceful and remain entirely undisturbed (especially by Grandpa Joe), thus making the picturesque, quiet and ultimately uneventful town of York a perfect spot.

Claire: Exeter

Perfectly suited to the ease of a campus uni (god forbid she has to navigate a public-transport system or walk a city’s streets alone at night), Claire would undoubtedly make herself a permanent resident at the 24/7 library, downing 50 cans of energy drinks to keep her going as she embarks on her weekly essay crisis and inevitable panic-induced existential breakdown.

James: Edinburgh

James’ simple inability to interact with the female species means Edinburgh’s 63 per cent female population would be a perfect fit. He’s no stranger to a bit of harsh English criticism, making the occasional snide remark or critique by the Scots all part of a day’s work, whilst the over-bearing Englishness and rah energy of Pollock are ideal.

Sister Michael: Cambridge

Let’s be honest, no uni is really up to the high standards of Sister Michael, but the number one top UK university will have to do. Completely unbothered by the Oxford vs Cambridge divide or the annual boat race, you’ll find her in the chapel completely engrossed in her favourite book, The Exorcist.

David Donnelly: Loughborough

Mysterious and aloof, David Donnelly could only really end up as somewhere as irrelevant and unexciting as Loughborough. Only making it into about three scenes across both season one and two combined, he’d certainly be unlikely to want a uni of rich nightlife or culture, making Loughborough’s one nightclub the perfect fit.

Orla: Bath

Her absolutely iconic talent show sport-esque performance and overly-energetic presence means the sporty uni of Bath would suit Orla perfectly. She’d be found strutting the streets of Bath in leg-warmers and vibrant jackets that would be enough to scare anyone from a mile off.

Dennis: Warwick

Sick and tired of everyone and simply at uni to get a degree and nothing else, Dennis would thrive at a uni as quiet and deserted as Warwick. Simply migrating to and from the library and nothing else, he’d be an absolute nightmare to end up in a Zoom break out room with due to his seeming inability to engage in a conversation lasting any longer than 20 seconds.

Ma Marry: Sussex

Incapable of dealing with drama or stress, Ma Mary seems more suited to the more simple uni life, making the coastal uni town of Brighton with its picturesque streets and calming sea air an ideal spot.

However, her new-found love of learning would inevitably render her a library prisoner as she, like us all, enters into the warzone battlefield of attempting to find a seat in exam season.

[copper-wasps]

pop off, dude had no right to try and grab yall, enjoy your memory cards

The camera cuts on, the video feed showing the same bland motel room from before. The faded blue paint and drab gray carpet, emboldened by the dying light of sunset filtering through the old curtains. The constant shifting and angle suggests someone is holding the camera- Adelaide, it seems, given she isn’t on screen.

“Yeah, she went off, alright.” Her voice sounds close to the speakers, the video zooming in to focus more clearly on the other girl in the room.

Lorelei sits on the edge of one of the beds, a ziplock bag full of ice held over her right hand. She rolls her eyes at Adelaide’s comment, giving her a look that can only be described as, ‘So what?’.

“Don’t give me that look. I thanked you once we got back, didn’t I?” Adelaide’s voice huffs, zooming back out as she walks across the room- the angle lowers, the squeak of springs making it obvious she’d taken a seat on the other bed, “I’m just worried about the trouble that might cause us, is all. What if he goes to the police? He might’ve caught the license plate on camera as we drove off.”

Lorelei huffs out an exasperated sigh, setting her bag of ice aside- the knuckles of her right hand black and purple with bruises, raw patches showing where she’d split a couple of the knuckles open. She reaches over for her whiteboard and marker on the nightstand, scribbling down a response before turning it around to face Adelaide and the camera.

-First off, he should’ve kept his hands to himself, it was deserved. Second, good thing its not our car.-

Adelaide sounds rather miffed when she speaks again after reading the message, “No, but it is Rose’s car! The last thing we need is the police coming after us for assault and auto theft.”

Lorelei only rolls her eyes in response, waving her uninjured hand in a gesture akin to, ‘Yeah yeah, whatever.’.

Adelaide sighs, falling quiet for a moment before she speaks again to ask another question, “Where did you even learn to punch like that anyway? Cause I’m pretty sure you broke his jaw.”

Lorelei lays her whiteboard down in her lap, erasing it with the edge of her shirt before writing down her response, taking longer this time before she finally holds up the board again.

-My dad. I got bullied a lot in middle school, and he wanted me to know how to defend myself before I started high school. That dickhead wasn’t the first person I’ve had to slug like that, so I guess the lessons came in handy.-

Adelaide seems to pause for a moment after reading that response, before asking a bit slower this time, “So…your dad taught you how to throw a punch like the one he threw at my dad in that one entry?”

A smirk crosses Lorelei’s face as Adelaide says it, quickly erasing what she’d written down to scribble out something new,

-He sure did. Wanna recreate it? I can’t yell at you, but I can still punch you.-

Adelaide reads that and snorts out a short laugh, the video jostling ever so slightly as she does so, “No thanks, I just healed up from falling down that cliff. I don’t need anymore bruises.”

Lorelei cracks a small grin at that, giving an easy shrug as she cleans off her whiteboard and sets it aside on the bed, resting the marker on top.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go take a shower- try not to punch anyone else in the meantime, Rocky.” Adelaide tells her as she stands up, the camera following the movement with a slight blur to the image.

It barely catches the way Lorelei shoots the other girl a bird before the video cuts off.