#sorry if looks weird just trying to figure these designs out for myself

[foldingfittedsheets]

A basic human skill that people usually lock down around the age of three or four is impulse control. To conceptualize an action and it’s consequences before taking it. Maybe considering how that action affects other people. We then refine it through most of our childhood.

When I was a teenager my hold on this ability became… tenuous. I became a volatile and dangerous creature.

It’s probably not unique to me, but I had a perfect storm in terms of mental upsets. I had just mastered enough basic social skills, so I finally had a strong group of friends when my dad suddenly needed to move for work. Ripped away from my support network, blooming with hormones, I was dragged to Arizona. I was always a child of forests and mist and suddenly everything was hot, dry, and extremely pointy and aggressive.

Additionally to being abruptly transplanted I found myself an object of affection in a way I’d never been before. Lonely and desperate to make friends the only people who wanted to spend time with me had romantic designs. I just wanted to figure out my shit but I had a baby lesbian flirting with increasing aggression in art, a soft boy making heart eyes at me in biology, a senior nerd asking if I wanted to play Halo at his house and could he hold my hand?

Reader, I snapped. I didn’t want this romantic attention but I also didn’t want to be alone. My brain coped the only way it knew how, by simply cutting out decision making. Any action was the right action to take.

It started with the boy in biology. I’d stolen his pencil out of mischief and to my overwhelming fury instead of trying to steal it back he just softened his eyes and chucked me gently under my chin, a gesture so overtly sweet and romantic that I saw red.

I stabbed him with his own pencil.

I honestly and truly have no memory of it. It happened as fast as a snake striking and I was instantly filled with terrified remorse. Unfortunately that manifested as psychotic giggling.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t know why- I’m so sorry!” I said, while hysterically laughing. I ended up having lodged some graphite in his palm and had to tweeze it out with my nails while apologizing furiously. (It’s very important to note here that he forgave me and we’re still friends)

That was weird, I thought. Why didn’t I think before I stabbed someone?

The next event was equally catastrophic, and I had even less reason to do it. In gym with two girls I was tentatively befriending, we were warming up running laps. I started racing one of them. At breakneck speed we were sprinting around the gym.

This time, there was a blip of thought before I fucked up. I should get the other girl! I have no idea why or what the plan was but I turned on a swivel and body checked the other girl. We both fell down in immense pain. I think that’s the moment I broke my tailbone. Her knees were horribly bruised and she looked at me in bewildered pain. “Why did you do that?!”

I had no idea. I apologized and helped her up, both of us hobbling like newborn horses, bruised and hurting.

By this time there’d been enough social upheavals that I was reduced to spending time with some girls I had nothing in common with and low key disliked. Sat at a table listening to this girl talk about how she wanted to be a stripper when she grew up I thought, You’d better put the cap on before you throw it.

I then chucked my empty water bottle directly at her face. It bounced off her forehead with a bop! that would have made a sound mixer weep at its perfection.

All eyes turned to me is startlement. I stared back at her, stunned by my own action, just as confused as everyone else at the table as to why I’d done that. One of the girls to my right said, “Were you trying to hit that fly?”

“Yes!” I lied, “I’m sorry, I thought I could hit the fly!”

Everyone laughed at my antics and I joined in rather than admit I had just chucked something at her for no reason.

Things did start to improve after that. I solidified a friendship with the girl I’d raced (who I developed a massive crush on and ten years later would go on to date). My outbursts turned more whimsical rather than aggressive. Like accosting a girl leaving the cafeteria to look deeply into her eyes and say with great compassion, “It’s going to be alright.”

My new friend and I snuck into the van that delivered our cafeterias baked goods and lay giggling in the back. When I’d impulsively hopped in she’d joined me and made it a game.

After a year in Arizona I broke down crying to my mother, an act of great desperation, and we ended up moving back home. My impulse control returned to normal teenage levels and life resumed in a happier state of mind.

[crop-pop]

Original:

[paper-mario-wiki]

How did you figure out how to draw yourself as a girl? I know that sounds silly, but it feels like you had a whole character design ready to go not long after you came out. Sorry if this is a weird question, I'm just curious about how that happened! It seems interesting.

that IS an interesting question, because there WAS a process to it!

i've always loved having some shorthand way to be easily drawn that doesnt just look like a normal regular human person, and coming off of being a boy i had a fucking REALLY good mascot in my little ghosty boy that i would have to follow up.

and i already HAD a girl version of this ghost, but that felt like a cop-out, and i didn't want to just rule 63 my existing design.

and so, actually as an exercise of my very early transition (not a soul knows yet, it's only been acknowledged internally at this point) I started making picrews of myself! i'd pick the ones i thought looked the coolest, and i'd pick out all the options that made it look like me (at least to me), and at the end of it all i came away from this exercise with a lot of picrews that already really look like how i draw myself/how others draw me!

i'd already been wearing my hair in a raised side part, and i always have bags under my eyes, and those things translated very well into Girl Territory

the halo came from a fascination with angels i formed while i was making a game at the beginning of 2023 (it's only a design document, but i still love it).

what this revealed to me were the traits i already had which could be pulled into girl territory, ya know? things that can be worn in a masculine way, but with little modification can be made to be more feminine.

i suggest trying this out! picrew, in all its simplicity, is quite enjoyable.

[chaosduckies]

Rising Tides (Chapter 1)

So basically this is just a piece for Mermay. A very late piece, but if you guys like it, I’ll continue it! Honestly, this is very fast paced, and I’m very sorry, but it is STRESSFUL out here.

Word Count: 2.8k

CW: Mentions of Death, A little bit of violence (just getting chased my a shark), that’s pretty much it I think!

1-Nico 

The ocean was a dangerous place. Even for someone who has lived here their entire life. 

Living in the ocean meant knowing how to survive on your own. It meant knowing just how desperate other creatures were to survive. I knew that. I knew just how much of a light snack I was. I knew that I was small. Incapable of being strong or even giving one glare at someone and making them swim away with their tail fins behind their backs. 

Such is the life of a very, very insignificant, mer like myself. 

The little reef I lived in was small, but quaint. My parents love it. I don’t live very far from them. Occasionally I would go over and have dinner with them. Even if I wasn’t hungry. They would ask how my day was, and I would say: “It was good.” we would catch up since the last time we ate, and then they’d ask me if I finally made any friends. I would tell them no. 

Today, really wasn’t a good day. 

My job for the community was to gather kelp. Weird, right? Only some mers eat kelp, like myself. I’m weird. But that’s besides the point! I gather some at least once a week and give it to another person who just delivers it somewhere I don’t even know. I feel like I should probably figure that out, but I’m pretty sure that didn’t really matter- 

Everyone had their own designated job to do for the community. We didn’t have any currency, but the people who lead us told us to do our part, and usually mers are very reluctant to listen so, no one complained. It’s not like I didn’t like my job. Every time I eat I think to myself “Maybe this is the same patch I picked myself-“ Stupid, right? But, everyone has their jobs so they can keep on peacefully living in this community. Though, sometimes it’s not all that great. 

Some mers don’t like each other. When a fight happens, they like solving it civilly so it doesn’t encourage anymore to happen. That’s not it for my case. A lot of people don’t like me. Not because I did something wrong to them. Nonono. I could never hurt a person. Even if I tried. It’s mainly because people outcast people with brightly colored tails. Like mine maybe? They say it’s a liability. That it’ll only get me killed if I’m ever on my own. They’re probably not wrong either. 

Despite my parents having a dark purple colored tail, mine was a bright purple. It’s not good at all for camouflage, it reflects some sunlight when I’m closer to the surface, and it’s just basically like a sign to other mers saying “Hey! I can very easily be killed from a large predator!” And no one wants to be with someone like that. As for the soulmate thing? Despite humans having to find their one true love, mers just have to make a few friends, and if the universe decides that you were meant to be with someone, then there would be a matching tattoo on your wrists after a single contact. Again, weird, right? 

——————

I was swimming off to my small, but humble house hidden inside a huge piece of coral. I don’t even know how I found this place, but I remember loving it because it had a perfect view of the sun above the ocean, and it was far away from most people except for the occasional kid who was just exploring. It was a nice place. I just carried up some sand here made it look nice and decorated with some shells I find while gathering kelp. Turns out you can make a decent home if you really try hard enough. 

There were two shells I had today, a nice light blue one that was probably just a piece of an old clam shell, and a mixture of an orange and yellow one that came from a hermit crab that abandoned its home. I was going to give these to my parents later since they also love seeing the bright colored shells, but they were too scared to travel far from the little village we live in. There are predators out there that would love to snack on a helpless mer, and no one was going out unless they knew they could live on their own or they were hunters getting fish for the others. My parents were none of the above. They preferred the village life. They practically new everyone here and they were both soulmates. And here I am the entire opposite. What a great son I am, right? 

I grabbed a little satchel from my home and started to slowly swim off to my parents. The sun was setting, the water above reflecting a bright orange hue. It was a nice evening. Hasn’t been like this in forever because of all the storms happening above. It’s a wonder how those fishing boats humans have stay afloat when all the waves are just trying to rock them over. Well, maybe it’s because they have some help from other mers or something like that. It wasn’t unheard of. 

The path to my parents’ humble abode was lined with clumped up seaweed and some colorful rocks. Their house was dimly lit, but I knew that they were still awake. My mom was probably making some kind of bag while dad was eating happily in his chair. I swam in. 

“Hey mom.” I mumbled. 

“Nico! Your plate is on the table!” She cheered back at me. She was always happy to see me. Even if I came at least two times a week to visit. I was old enough to take care of myself. Or… at least in the community we live in. 

I looked at the plate on the table, shook my head and swam into the main room where they were doing just as I had imagined. Mom was almost done making a very small bag that she would probably give to one of her friends. I looked through my own bag, grabbing the two small shells I found and placed them on one of the side tables near my dad. 

He inspected them before smiling to himself. I knew he liked them more than my mom did. He said he used to bring buckets back home to his parents and just have a collection to himself. I see why he did. It was fun to find some. Better than sitting around the house all day and not having anything to do. 

I stared at the matching tattoos on both of my parent's wrists, slightly rubbing my own. I knew I wouldn’t find someone who would actually like me. I can’t even picture myself with anyone else. It was the sad, but indisputable truth. And I’ve accepted that fact. 

——————

The next morning, I woke up with my dark hair in my face and streaks of light I shining through some cracks in the little coral cave I lived in. I forced myself up, lazily rubbing my eyes. What should I do today? The question practically begged for an answer. I could just go swim around, but that does’t really sound all that fun if I were being honest. I mean, people would just sit and stare at me all day or do the exact opposite and whisper hurtful comments and rumors about me. Not that I really cared about that though. I said to myself that once I was able to, I would move away from here and just live on my own. 

Today I felt adventurous though.  

I grabbed my little satchel, and headed out, the morning sun still rising above the waters surface. The ocean felt great today. Today just felt like a good day. Something that’s rare to come by when you’re all on your own. 

Where was I swimming out to you may ask? Well, for your information, I was currently heading outside of the community I live in. It’s not like it’s prohibited, but most mers don’t find a need to venture out further when they already knew what was out there. Predators, other mers, food, fish, water. There really wasn’t anything new to find out here when you’re in this ocean. I guess what they really feared were the sharks that were found near the area though. But most don’t even bother with us. Mostly because no small mer like myself is crazy enough to venture out here alone. Yeah, I’m crazy enough. 

To a large shark, I’d probably be like, half it’s size. Most likely shorter. A purple tail is a sign that you’ll be a small mer, but big enough to be on your own. I was the exception though, given that I had a brighter color and was actually the size of like a small human basically. Yes, I was made fun of by some old classmates and sometimes my parents when I was still a pup, yes I know I’m small, and yes I can reach the top shelf on the counter (I mean I can swim so-) 

Swimming along the ocean floor along with the many overgrown plants and small anemones where I saw several clownfish leave to go get whatever is was that they needed. I had found a huge coral reef far into the ocean, there were tons of colorful fish everywhere I had looked. 

I want to say it was maybe an hour long of just roaming and admiring the many colors of the reef I had just found before my eyes drifted off to something big and dark in the distance. I squinted, slightly swimming closer where, for some reason, none of the fish dared to do. 

Filled by my curiosity, I swam towards the large object, wondering what it was. It was a long ways from the reef. It was dark, only seaweed and some kelp patches were the only plants. There were some starfish and snails, some crabs, but that was all the life I could find. It seemed like this part of the deep ocean was pretty much deserted. Strange. 

I kept going, seeing that the object I was looking at looked like those metal ships humans make, except it was wooden and had a bunch of holes. I swam cautiously in, minding that this was a place far away from home and there would basically be no hope in escaping a shark or something if I encountered one. I took a look at my tail, still bright when the waters here were dark and the sun was covered by a layer of seaweed. This would be fine. Nothing was going to find me here… Hopefully. 

The shipwreck didn’t leave much behind. Just some broken pieces of old wood and some old pictures. I doubt there would be anything of worth in here honestly, but I kept on looking, fueling my curiosity. What else was I supposed to do? If I do end up finding something maybe I can show it off to the mers back at home and maybe then they’ll stop ridiculing me and making fun of me for having a bright tail. There is no way I was the only mer in the entire ocean like this! 

There was a room that looked much like an office. Broken pieces of a desk, a little container that once held ink. What I was really intrigued about was the little open chest that revealed a round pice of flattened gold. I grabbed it, studying the rust colored piece of metal. Humans used this as currency once before, right? I’m sure they don’t use whatever these were anymore. Or if whatever I was holding was even a kind of currency. It just seemed like something a human would use. 

I stuffed the gold piece in my bag and continued looking. At least until I saw a large shadow swim fast in the corner of my eye. I kept my arms close to my chest, keeping my breathing controlled before I overreacted. It was probably just a big fish… yeah. Just a really, really big fish that can swim amazingly fast. 

I saw the same shadow swim by again, but this time it bumped into something, making me let out a little surprise yelp. I immediately clasped my hands over my mouth, hearing another thunk! Before I saw the full shadow of whatever the hell was outside. It was a shark. A huge shark. And it looked hungry. 

My hands were shaky, I couldn’t move. I wasn’t going to die, right? I didn’t actually think something like this would happen! I thought those were just rare occurrences that people were making rumors about. Was I actually going to die? No. There has to be some way out of this. 

Looking around, I found a small little crack I could probably fit in if I really tried. I swam slowly closer to it, noting that the thunks outside were getting closer. Please let me get out of here alive… I kept telling myself as I hurried to fit myself in the tiny crack. As soon as I was out, something fast was coming my way, and I was swimming just as fast to get away. 

It was hard to swim when you were in a life or death situation. I never realized that until now. I stole a glance behind me, letting out a weak yelp when I saw the sharks mouth open wide. Great. It seemed like I could fit perfectly in that thing. Imagine being killed by those sharp teeth- No don’t think about that. Not right now at least. 

The water around me only grew darker as we headed deeper into the ocean. There were some small caves, but I didn’t want to really trap myself in there. I had no idea why this shark was so desperate in the first place. It was so much bigger than a regular shark, couldn’t it find something else to eat other than a mer? Like a big fish or something? 

Eventually I realized why the shark seemed so interested in me. They like bright colors. I remember being told something like that when I was younger. It’s just great that my tail is just sooo bright, right? Wow I am so unlucky. My only hope to lose the shark (Who was gaining on me really fast, ohmygoshwhatdoIdo?) is to somehow lose it in a cave or something. Hopefully there was a small space I could get into that the shark couldn’t. And of course hope I don’t run into anything else that was hungry. 

There was a huge cave in front of me, and I took my chances. I felt the sharks jaws snap behind me, just mere inches from snapping on top of my tail. I shuddered, but kept swimming fast, trying to find some kind of small cave to fit myself into. Please oh my gosh I’m getting so tired I don’t want to die-  Stop thinking like that. I’m not going to die. At least not today. 

Just a couple feet ahead of me, I spotted a tiny hole that looked like it could fit me if I squeezed in fast enough. I stole another glance, seeing the shark right there behind me. I let out a scream, grabbing the bag around my neck and throwing it back at it. It slowed it down just a tiny bit, but it kept after me. Maybe just enough time to get myself safe. 

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” I muttered to myself, not noticing that something big moved in the dark. 

Right before I could fit myself through the crack hopefully leading to a small cave, I felt a sharp pain in my tail, The part I actually needed to be able to swim. I was forced out, seeing that it was caught in between the sharks sharp teeth. It let go for just a split second, before a loud growl was heard, making the shark almost instantly swim off. Tears stung my eyes (Weird because we’re underwater right?), but I blinked them away and stared at my tail fin, seeing all too many rips and tears. It hurt so, so much. 

That was when my mind had finally clicked and wondered why the shark had left in the first place. The growl. The two huge sets of dark blue eyes trained on me. The slight hue they gave off. Oh. It was just a really, really, really, huge mer. The ones that eat other mers? That destroy community’s for no reason? The one’s that were outcasted? That’s just wonderful. 

I tried swimming away, but the tears in my fins didn’t let me, making me whimper like a lost puppy. My breathing was fast, as I stared back into the eyes that would soon be the death of me. Oh I am so going to die. 

And suddenly I was encased in darkness again. 

——————

Yayyyy new characters. No worries, the giant mer is good. But oh noooo I totally didn’t hurt Nico’s tail on purpose for future purposes… Okay but I feel bad for my little mer. I’m not that sadistic.

But anyways, thank you guys for reading this little Drabble, and of course I know it’s not my best writing, but I was rushing and it’s just these last few days of school that are KILLING me. I hope you guys liked this, and thank you for reading!

[manyblinkinglights]

anytaur quarstion

Sorry im doing this thru a submission instead of an ask bc i want bigger text limit and also to insert images... clarity and allat. i hope thats ok...

Recently i got an actuual headset for vrc so that i could Physically Become the Beast of my Dreams. your rig is everything to me and makes me so so happy. ive wanted this forever. i cant thank you enough for this. main thing im having to fiddle with now in specific is forefoot pickup! didn't make much sense to bother with it back when i was desktop only but having tried it now with actual real hands, the whimsy is impeccable. hands still feel a bit weird though, and im almost certain i messed with something i shouldnt have in trying to set it up, so I thought it might make sense to ask you abt it considering you designed the system and probably have more insight! I'd try for figuring it out myself thru trial and error, but i am very new to vr and having to go in and out to tweak and rebuild avatar versions seems disastrously tiring. and i dont think i'd have much luck trying to fiddle with unity through a vr virtual desktop @~@ time is money....i miss unemployment...so I hoped this could expedite some of that trial+error+rebuilding time. maybe. god. longass preamble over.

point being: in the recent (~6mo ago...) setup videos you did, i feel like the "A" pose you got for your sample models is generally more "A" shaped than what my beast has procured. This may be on account of my beast being quite lanky and having long as hell forearms and quite short shoulders and upper arms. in addition, by default, just moving them down on the global y axis like on the script instructions, the SenseHand receivers end up in a weird position compared to the paws, atleast based on what i think i am picking up from the script instructions. image below.

please ignore the shit ass weight painting/distortion for the paw im new to doing 3d models, im honestly just impressed this thing exists at all.

anyways in the image (front isometric) the right paw (viewer's right not model's right) is set to the values you recommend in your setup video, and the other one is unchanged from default rotation just as a baseline i guess.

Anyways my real question boils down to: what might you recommend to focus on in tweaking forefoot pickup? would rotating thigh and/or shin pickups to better match an "A" pose make sense? Should I move the SenseHands on X axis to be more better "Held" like it says in the instructions? is it ok if the sensehands fall into the floor from "A" pose?

regardless, thank you for your time, dedication, and willingness to share both. this project has been living rent free in my brain ever since i first saw the vrc horse speedrun on youtube (exactly what i had been looking for after god knows how long looking around) and desperately checked your youtube page to see what else you'd been up to. i think that was around or just before when the LittleKitty port video was recent or new, so it's stuck with me for atleast 2 years and i hope to still interface with this rig for many more years to come! please dont feel pressured to a response either lol, i understand if you dont really have a good suggestion or answer. im sorry if i overwhelm you with wall of text. here is an image of the beast in action to hopefully warm the spirits MUCH LOVE!

[i-eat-deodorant]

Weird question for you 👉👈 do you have any drawings of the lamb or narinder like, naked? NOT in a horny way I SWEAR, I love your style and I just wanna see how you draw their legs lmao, I can't figure it out myself and other artists I can find are like, too human.

(nakey animals ahead)

Okay, so to preface this I'm a hobbyist artist who commits anatomical atrocities for shits & giggles, and this is by no means a professional/accurate way to draw animals, humans, or any combination of the two. This started as me struggling to explain how I draw instead of just sticking to the most brutally honest explanation of "I just wing it", but having to draw out different parts of anatomy and how proportional they are to each other was hugely helpful to help me re-evaluate how I draw animals. So thank you.

I'll be mostly using Lamb and Narinder for reference, because the brainrot is strong and they're what I draw the most.

A lot of my style comes from the fact that I'm primarily an animal artist, not a human one. In fact, COTL's the first fandom that I've drawn anthro characters in, and it was a trial trying to adapt what I know to upright animals.

Best way to get a better grip on anatomy is to sketch from references. Nothing that can really replace practice. It's helpful to look at skeleton and muscle diagrams and get a good idea of where body parts are in relation to each other. Then, search up actual references and try to overlay the shapes and bones onto them. When I'm not sure if something of mine is proportioned correctly, I just measure something with my fingers and compare.

Some specific things to note: generally, the hind legs of quadrupeds have a larger metatarsal area (the large flat portion of your foot) compared to humans--that's why people say cats tip-toe. Humans have theirs relatively short; how long you make that area largely determines how Creature the design looks. I know some people who draw purely human legs, some who draw human legs then add the extra foot length on top, all of that's fine. Personally, I will shorten the leg length above the knee to compensate. In quadrupeds, the knee will draw up very close to the torso area, as you can see in the jackal doodle.

Another note: when standing, it's important give the impression that there's a center of balance. When standing straight, a straight line drawn from the hip to the foot of a leg should be relatively perpendicular to the ground.

(Of course this all goes out the window the moment anything other than standing straight is involved but w/e.)

A lot of the fundamentals carry over between my quadruped and anthro art: the general shapes, the proportions, etc. One thing I noticed while sketching Lamb is that sheep have a femur that's almost entirely against their torso, and their legs are mostly just the tarsal parts (sorry if I'm butchering the anatomy).

For the arms/forelimbs, I mainly just use human anatomy with a repurposed number of fingers. It's easier, plus I can't exactly have a sheep with sheep limbs carry an axe around. I mean it's doable, just kinda awkward.

After getting the basics down, I move to more complex poses. One thing I struggle massively with is anything involving knees--kneels were something that eluded me for months. There are things that humans do that look very awkward when you factor in other animals' anatomies. I'm not super good with action poses so I can't really say how I've overcome that limitation, because I haven't :'D.

When I'm doing more simplistic poses, I just result resort to drawing a slightly bent line and calling it a day. You don't see much outside clothing anyways.

Last thing I found interesting: because of the weight distribution, the positioning of the arms in relation to the torso is different in bipeds and quadrupeds. Drawing anatomy with arms that kinda come forward and legs spread apart give designs a more animalistic vibe to me.

[chibivesicle]

Asks that I will never really answer. My apologies; life gets busy and I get distracted.

I'm dropping these here today, so I can clear out some of the asks from my inbox. Apologies for some of these going back to when Trigun Stampede was still airing. >_< If I don't have a clear and concise answer, I'll let things sit in the inbox but they occasionally do fall off my radar.

Uuummm sorry Anon, I meant to give this more of a response but as I got angrier at Stampede, I just couldn't bring myself to give you a well thought out reply. My overall vibes for the Christian themes that were missing in Stampede had to do how they kept a lot of the surface content, images/style/design from the original but with the sci-fi emphasis removed the weird esoteric Christian stuff and made it look that way. Vash was more willing to engage with others in the original manga/'98 anime based on what Rem taught him. Yet, we never get why he does what he does in Stampede. By changing Wolfwood from being a traveling preacher where Vash lambasts him with 'thou shall not kill' the nuance of his character's moral conflict is lost. He's a trained killer for a quasi-religious organization that might be using a Zia in a really not cool way. We also do not see him act in a self-sacrificing way, which he does from the get go in the original. The angelic body horror was gone, replaced by a sci-fi reading of plants and the concept of plant worship was missing in there as well. There is a lot of internal dialogue that many of the characters pose through the anime and manga and its just gone from Stampede and it revolves around forgiveness, violence, and justice.

For me, the complete re-interpretation of the world and loss of the moral conflict that all characters show hurt the Christian (and Buddhist) themes that underpinned the original. It really came down to how the characters acted and talked. There is no point to a gunslinger who is almost completely passive when one who is active but uses a non-lethal method based on principle. There is a chapter where Vash gets taunted by some enemy for how bad his target practice is until they determine he was that accurate at shooting someone but not killing them. The best way to summarize is that they took some of the aesthetics of the original and didn't follow through on how the characters acted. There is so much contemplation in the original and that is missing in the remake.

Let's just make this a list: 1.) Leo would actually have a real girlfriend. I already have issues with White, I think adding her in as a quasi-girlfriend was a disservice to Leo's character. 2.) Zapp would be white. Less of a manwhore perhaps? 3.) Chain would be cute as opposed to cold and distant. No drinking assholes under the table and vomiting in her bathroom later. See Meryl Stryfe.

4.) K.K. would have boobs, and somehow be more sexy than an awkward and doting mother. See Rem and Luida. 5.) Steven's scar would be smaller or missing to make him a real lady killer. Either they'd lean way too far into Steven's shady side or they'd clean it up completely. Like he'd wink at women as opposed to sleeping with them to get intel. Be Klaus #1 fan! But like all the time, making himself to work too much. His hangry side would either be missing or played up for laughs. 6.) Zed would be dropped because he's the non-human team member. What's the point of having him? 7.) Luciana Estevez would only appear in her super sexy doctor form not her silly clone or normal form.

8.) They would try to create lore and filler to explain things that you have to assume are just how things work. Or they would info dump as opposed to leaving it up to you to worry about things and figure it out from the context. 9.) The entire cast gets aged down, because having a bunch of 30+ cast members who don't have all their shit together is too embarrassing aka very realistic. e.g. K.K. has a house husband (not a good mother like Rem and Luida in Stampede), Steven will die single and alone, Daniel will die single and alone, Patrick carries a torch for Guinness but is single, Abrams is a walking disaster.

10.) Character designs which are super unique and fun, especially in the manga all get 'isekai treatment' were they look homogeneous. The whole point of the diversity of the cast is lost. Women are short and cute, men are tall and slender or tall and buff. No other options.

11.) They attempt to rationalize the 13 Kings and give deep meaning behind their behaviors. Which maybe we will get that someday, but part of the fun is how fucking chaotic they are.

12.) Hellsalem's Lot is an empty city. Somehow, the city lacks people on the streets and we don't get the rooftop betting scene between the giant stomping creature and super-sized Riel. Sex, drugs, gambling are minimized in their version.

13.) The entire Prosfair story line is cut because it is so fucking bizarre and awesome; they wouldn't understand the point of the entire game.

14.) The OST is bad.

[archerygun]

Guys I’m sorry. A single person asked me to elaborate. I’ve gotta elaborate now. I have permission from an internet stranger. Also, yes, I think I should be locked up and studied for science but exposing my insanity on the internet is the next best thing. @dye-it-rouge-et-noir this one is for you buddy.

This is a follow-up/part 2 post. If you’re seeing this post before part 1, part 1/the context is here = https://www.tumblr.com/archerygun/749484004313579520/alright-i-was-chatting-to-a-friend-about-james?source=share

(Splitting it up into sections because I want to try and contain myself from rambling nonstop for five straight minutes)

DESIGN EXPLANATION/BREAKDOWN

Sean Connery - A friend of mine did most of the design, I added the bottom half, the gun, the colours and a couple of motifs. I chose Thunderball as the film of focus because my friend mentioned his swimsuit was traumatising, and also because it’s the film with the jetpack in it. Generally focused on circular shapes and tear shapes because y’know… water. He’s orange because of the orange swimsuit that my friend called out lmao. And the flower on the neck bow is supposed to look like the one from the iconic white dinner suit that I tend to default to drawing Sean Connery Bond in because when he isn’t in dinner suits his dress sense is generally not as fun as I would like. The gun is based on the one from the James Bond image. You know the one.

I put simultaneously not enough thought and too much thought into this Jesus Christ. I think he’d have some sort of jetpack power-up or something. George Lazenby - He only did one film, so that did limit sources of inspiration. Fortunately, OHMSS is my favourite Bond film because everything about it is earnest and completely insane. I had to include his bowler hat from the intro because it was amazing and not enough Bonds wear hats, so he’d at least look distinctive. It’s set in an icy location for most of it, so that’s where most of the theming came from, the colour, etc; the diamond motif might have suited Sean Connery better all things considered but too late now. I took some costuming inspiration from his kilt outfit because it was strange and iconic and I think all Bonds should be made to wear it. He only really has one promo shot with a gun so I had to give the position of tiny gun guy to George Lazenby. He wields it well.

Roger Moore - I kinda just took the fact that he was the first Bond in space and ran with it. Used stars as a motif, etc. Particular inspiration was taken from this outfit:

And partial inspiration from his weird marine navy commander-style getup (for the shawl thing). It was legitimately way too hard to find a gun that wouldn’t accidentally cross over with a gun from another Bond so I picked the most Seventies gun I could possibly find for inspiration assuming that no other Bonds would ever use something similar. The upper body pose as usual is directly from the reference image. I felt like if I put all the Bonds in skirts, it’d get a bit repetitive and start looking bad, so I figured if any Bond was going to get trousers it would have to be the one that actually wore flares.

CHARACTER EXPLANATION/BREAKDOWN

Basically just how I’d pitch the three Bonds I’ve done so far if they were a group dynamic instead of solo iterations. Gonna do it in bullet points so it’s more comprehensible. (I don’t have any rhyme, reason or lore for this. It’s literally just me assigning three Bonds distinct personalities).

Sean Connery:

The group leader/group elder/tired old man

He can still be a slut if that’s what you want but minus the creepiness. Mutual engagement in passive flings? No problems with that.

Seen so much shit that he’s sorta nonchalant about everything and believes he’s overqualified for just about anything he’s asked to do.

✨War trauma✨

Suaveness and charm level 100. He’s a crabby old man most of the time but he’s so charming that the group let him get away with it.

He’s desensitised to like, literally everything. He will not hesitate to kill a man in cold blood if the situation demands it.

Pretty much believes that human beings are fundamentally bad, himself included.

Ultimately the one that’s willing to make the hard calls.

George Lazenby:

Like his actor before him he is the least qualified and probably lied to get into the secret service.

Optimistic, perceived as naive, ready to try and fight the narrative to change his fate.

The group child (and the youngest).

Quit the secret service after his new wife was assassinated on their wedding day and only comes back because shit has hit the fan (plot reasons. I don’t have a plot, I’m just speaking as if I’m pitching a TV show).

Doomed By The Narrative™️

Ridiculed or forgotten by everyone except the other Bonds

Sean Connery’s Bond respects him a great deal and secretly envies his more idealistic worldview, but won’t let him make the tough calls because he sees him as too naive and too unstable (willing to risk everything)

Roger Moore’s Bond HAS adopted him.

Roger Moore:

Literally feral

Master of British understatement (“Oh. That’s a bit of a shame.” as the world is literally ending around him)

He’s besties with Sean Connery’s Bond as the other sort of group elder

Despite how manic and wired he appears, he is terrifyingly competent and capable of being very serious

Team leader when Connery’s Bond is out of action

Dad figure. Not just to the other Bonds, but as a default personality. He will go parent mode on anyone he thinks he’s capable of saving.

Although if he doesn’t think you’re saveable he will not hesitate to shoot on sight if he runs out of options.

As far as ideas for the other three, Timothy Dalton is going to look evil and edgy but he’s just an enthusiastic dork and Daniel Craig is a stone cold killer with trust issues draped in bright pink bows. I haven’t seen any Pierce Brosnan movies so far so I might just have to vibe check him based on plot synopsis.

Closing thoughts? I want my brain removed and replaced with a better one. I’m sorry for everything you have witnessed today.

Also, these are based exclusively on the movies and not the books. I’m more digging into what makes each actor and era special and distinct.

If you sat through all that, well done, thank you, please don’t report me to the asylum and enjoy this image of Sean Connery.

[mixelation]

give me a fandom and i'll make an OC

IDK what i expected to happen LOL. okay here's two OC concepts I've thought about for YGO

the first concept was the product of a conversation between me and a friend a looooong time ago. our concept was this: yugi's dad's company sent him abroad for work several times, and he had an affair with someone in the US that ended up with Yugi having a half sister. this is also why we never hear from yugi's dad-- his mom divorced him and then did her best to never interact with him again lol. so yugi is aware he has a half-sister in the US but he's never, like, talked to her.

this OC wasn't into duel monsters, but we wanted her to be into SOME sort of gaming and I think we picked puzzle games? but if i were to tweak her design i think i'd make her a twitch streamer who does a lot of weird challenges on popular games. i don't think we named her, but she's a lazy person who only wants to work enough to support her hobbies. oh also my friend and i got into an argument over what Yugi's hair would look like grown out and i drew this with my track pad:

if we had a plot in mind i don't remember what it was. if i made up one now: at some point yugi becomes famous and suddenly OC keeps getting asked questions about if she knows about this king of games guy because they have the same hair. isn't that funny?? and OC sees him on TV and is like: oh god i think that's my brother. she doesn't reach out because her mom is like "LOL they hate us" and also her japanese is awful. but meanwhile, yuugi keeps getting @ed on social media that there's a mildly popular twitch streamer with his hair. isn't that funny?? so eventually yugi reaches out and then... idk. stupid semi-magical shenanigans.

second concept: ryou has an online friend.

i think i've pitched ryou having an online presence before. i think this makes sense for him: every fiend he has gets their soul stolen by the evil ghost haunting him, but what can bakura do to online friends? be rude to them? so ryou posts a lot on online monster world forums and maybe plays some games via an online platform. i think bakura IS rude to people sometimes but ryou is like "sorry that was my evil alter ego :(" and in early 2000s online culture that's just a normal thing for a teenager to do/say.

OC is therefore someone he's know even longer than Yugi, just via various online platforms. She's talked to Bakura and been confused. She's "there, there"-ed Ryou between extremely bizarre sounding incidents and hospital stays. Post-canon, after they both graduate high school, the two of them make Big Plans to meet in person. OC wants to write her own TTPGs, so Ryou invites her to stay with him in Domino for a few weeks because it is THEE gaming capital. Also it would be fun to try and make some models for her ideas!! Maybe they can even playtest some!!

OBVIOUSLY something has to go wrong, and that is my favroite YGO trope: the day OC is supposed to turn up, Malik shows up on Ryou's doorstep and is like GUESS WHO MYSTERIOUSLY JUST HAS HIS OWN BODY NOW. it's bakura!!!

(OC, meeting him: you're real?)

the Shenanigans that follow would be one part having to figure out what to do with an evil ghost made real, one part trying to enjoy your last summer before university, and then one part OC insisting on meeting shady people from the internet who turn out to be hardened criminals about 95% of the time.

my concept for OC's personality is that she's very creative and emotionally supportive of her friends, but she's also one of those people who's very into how From The City she is and sometimes that causes her to make wild decisions. in my original concept, i wanted her to be the most stereotypical new yorker, but she could be from any major city

Malik, seeing the address of where she's meeting Some Guy to buy a limited edition Monster World player's manual: girl you are going to get mugged

OC: I CAN TAKE OF MYSELF. STREET SMARTS--!!

(obviously she goes, and ryou makes bakura and malik go with them because YOU JUST SAID SHE WAS GOING TO GET MUGGED, but also OC is very confident because she got pepper spray through TSA. nothing can go wrong.)

the plot would be typical yugioh game-based shenanigans but everyone is like 80% more likely to throw hands.

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

~incorrect quotes for the new friend group that I made and am still trying to figure out what I’m gonna call them~ (The members of this group are: Loui, York, Texas, Florida, Mass, and Georgia <3) @simpyfrog cuz Loui 🥺

=======================================================================

Georgia: Stop setting things on fire because you're curious about what will happen. What will happen is fire. 


Mass: B-but what if something else happens just this one time.

============================================

York: Yeah, I f(speaks New York)in’ hate people. 


Georgia: Oh, well now that’s not fair Yorkie. Have you met all of them? 


York: I’ve met enough of them. People. What a bunch of b*stards!

============================================

Florida: Pfft- What’s wrong with you? You look 10 seconds away from ripping someone’s throat out. 


Texas: F(speaks Texas)in’ Loui and Mass were trying to invoke one of the minor gods again last night. I didn't get an ounce of sleep, thanks to their bloody chanting.

Florida: Aww why didn’t they invite me :(

============================================

Someone: When York was born, the gods said, "Awwww he’s too perfect for this world." 


Mass: Please. When he was born, the devil said, "Oh, competition."

============================================

Loui: When will Ted himself...finally show up to the talk? 


Tex: The final boss. 


Georgia: You guys know TEDtalks stands for technology, entertainment, and design talks, right? 


Florida: We shall not let Ted hide behind these lies any longer!

Georgia: Y’all are a bunch of idiots…. *sips coffee* It is too early for this….

============================================

Loui: Is stabbing someone immoral? 


York: Not if they consent to it. 


Mass: Depends on who you’re stabbing. 


Georgia: YES??!!?

============================================

Tex, taping a knife onto a Roomba: Be free, my child. 


Georgia, entering the room with a small cut on his ankle: Who the f-

============================================

Florida: Do you have a self-care routine? 


Tex: "Keep going b*tch" said to myself in different accents.

============================================

Geo: York is not a morning person. Or a night person. There’s really only about seven minutes a day you are fun to be around. 


York: Yup, and the best part is you never know when they’re coming.

============================================

York: Hello, my name is Failure, and you're watching my life crumble into pieces. 


York: *waves his finger and sings like he’s in a Disney Channel intro*

============================================

Geo: Do you see yourself as a glass half-full or glass half-empty kind of person? 


Mass: Half-full, definitely. 


Mass: Half-full and constantly rising. 


Mass: Soon the water will escape its container and consume us all.

============================================

Mass, sitting on his bed: Get out of my room. 


York, being the mischievous youngest sibling he is and standing just outside of the door frame: I’m not in your room :)

============================================

York: *weird inhuman sound*


Georgia: WHAT. 


York: *even louder inhuman sound*


Georgia: WHAT DOES THAT SOUND MEAN THIS TIME YOU WHIMSICAL PIECE OF SH*T?????

============================================

*when a child starts crying in public* 


Loui: *tries to make the child laugh* 


Tex: *tries to play a game with the child to make them calm down* 


Georgia: *gives detailed instructions to the parents* 


Florida: *cries with the child* 


York: *ignores the child* 


Mass: *is the reason why the child is crying*

============================================

Mass: Let's just agree to both say we're sorry on the count of three. 


Mass: One... two... three. 


York: ... 


Mass: ... 


Mass: See, now I'm just disappointed in both of us.

York: Same…. Wanna go get coffee?

Mass: Yea sure why not.

============================================

Loui, walking into room where Mass and Texas are sitting on their phones: If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands! 


*I’ve never heard silence quite this loud* 


Loui: Damn, y’all depressed as f(speaks New Orleans)! 


Tex: You didn’t clap either- 


Loui: *tackles him* SHUT UP!

============================================

*Loui drunkenly wanders around the house and Texas is drunkenly giggling* 


Georgia, completely sober: *sighs* Well, looks like it's just me and you against the wold, Flo. 


Florida, going to his room: Haha nope, just you. *shuts door*

============================================

Tex: Did you have to stab them? 


Loui: You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what they said to me. 


Tex: What did they say? 


Loui: "What are you going to do, stab me?" 


Tex: That’s fair.

============================================

Mass: Loui.… bud…. W-Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor? 


Loui: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned. 


Mass: 


Mass: I wrote sanitize, Loui.

============================================

Geo: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life. 


Mass: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back... 


Florida: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this. 


York: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years. 


Tex: I knew I lost that potential somewhere. 


Loui: Mental stability, my old friend! 


Geo: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little?

============================================

Loui: What’s it like being tall? 


Mass: Is it nice? Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards? 


Tex: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Loui: I SWEAR TO F(SPEAKS NEW ORLEANS)IN’ GOD IT WAS ONE TIME-

===========================================

Geo: Why would you think any of this was a good idea? 


Mass: Probably because I’m a dangerous sociopath with a long history of violence. 


Geo: 


Mass: I don’t know how you keep forgetting this.

============================================

Geo: You remind me of the ocean. 


York: Because I'm deep and mysterious? 


Geo: No, because you're full of salt and you scare people.

============================================

York: I’ve never smoked marijuana. I ate a brownie once at a party. It was intense. It was kind of indescribable. I felt like I was floating. Turns out there was no pot in the brownie. It was just an insanely good brownie.

============================================

Tex, to Loui: You drink too much, swear too much, and your morals are highly questionable. 


Loui: … 


Tex: You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a lil’ brother

Loui: :D

============================================

Mass: HELP! I TOLD LOUI I'D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN'T COOK! 


Florida, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

============================================

Loui: Mass is okay. 


Geo: He’s okay? He said he was going to break my legs! And don't tell me he didn't mean it, okay?! 'Cause he gave me the mackerel eyes, he meant it! 


Loui: Geo, Mass threatened me. He threatens Tex every day. He probably threatened York before breakfast this morning. It's what he does. Grow a pair.

============================================

[shuxiii]

Everyday pt. 13

Hanni Pham x reader pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt14, pt15

a/n meowmoewmeomwoemwoe its still 7 am and part 12 died so soon and too late and now I'm part 13 so sorry for their lost, credits '' every day'' by David levithan

Day 6016

Yn,

I think I remember everything. Where are you today? Instead of writing a long email, I want to talk.

H

I am roughly two hours away from her when I read this email, in the body of a boy named Park sunghoon. He’s a hardcore design geek, and his room is an orchard of Apple products. I access him enough to know that when he really, really likes a girl, he creates a font and names it after her.

I write back to Hanni and tell her where I am. She writes back immediately—she must be waiting by her computer—and asks me if I can meet her after school. We arrange to meet at the Clover Bookstore.

Sunghoon is a charmer. He also, from what I can tell, has crushes on three different girls at the same time. I spend the day trying not to commit him any closer to any of them. He will have to figure out for himself which font he prefers.

I am a half hour early to the bookstore, but I’m too nervous to read anything but the faces of the people around me.

She walks in the door, also early. I don’t need to stand or wave. She looks around the room, sees me and the way I’m looking at her, and knows.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” I say back.

“It feels like the morning after,” she tells me.

“I know,” I say.

She’s gotten us coffee, and we sit there at the table with the cups sheltered in our hands.

I see some of the things I noticed yesterday—the birthmark, the scattering of pimples on her forehead. But they don’t matter to me nearly as much as the complete picture.

She doesn’t seem freaked out. She doesn’t seem angry. If anything, she seems at peace with what’s happened. When the shock wears off, you always hope there’s understanding underneath. And with Hanni, it seems as if the understanding has already surfaced. Any vestige of doubt has been swept away.

“I woke up and I knew something was different,” she tells me. “Even before I saw your letter. It wasn’t the usual disorientation. But I didn’t feel like I’d missed a day. It was like I woke up and something had been … added. Then I saw your letter and started reading, and immediately I knew it was true. It had actually happened. I stopped when you told me to stop, and tried to remember everything about yesterday. It was all there. Not the things I’d usually forget, like waking up or brushing my teeth. But climbing that mountain. Having lunch with Minji. Dinner with my parents. Even writing the letter itself—I had a memory of that. It shouldn’t make sense—why would I write a letter to myself for the next morning? But in my mind, it makes sense.”

“Do you feel me there? In your memories.”

She shakes her head. “Not in the way you’d think. I don’t feel you in control of things, or in my body, or anything. I feel like you were with me. Like, I can feel your presence there, but it’s outside of me.”

She stops. Starts again. “It’s insane that we’re having this conversation.”

But I want to know more.

“I wanted you to remember everything,” I tell her. “And it sounds like your mind went along with that. Or maybe it wanted you to remember everything, too.”

“I don’t know. I’m just glad I do.”

We talk more about the day, more about how strange this is. Finally, she says, “Thank you for not messing up my life. And for keeping my clothes on. Unless, of course, you didn’t want me to remember that you sneaked a peek.”

“No peeks were sneaked.”

“I believe you. Amazingly, I believe you about everything.”

I can tell there’s something else she wants to say.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s just—do you feel you know me more now? Because the weird thing is … I feel I know you more. Because of what you did, and what you didn’t do. Isn’t that strange? I would have thought that you would’ve found out more about me … but I’m not sure that’s true.”

“I got to meet your parents,” I say.

“And what was your impression?”

“I think they both care about you, in their own way.”

She laughs. “Well said.”

“Well, it was nice to meet them.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that when you really meet them. ‘Mom and Dad, this is Yn. You think you’re meeting them for the first time, but actually, you’ve met them before, when they were in my body.’ ”

“I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

Of course, we both know it won’t go over at all. There’s no way for me to meet her parents. Not as myself.

I don’t say it, and neither does she. I don’t even know if she’s thinking it in the pause that ensues. But I am.

“It can never happen again, right?” she eventually asks. “You’re never the same person twice.”

“Correct. It will never happen again.”

“No offense, but I’m relieved I don’t have to go to sleep wondering if I’m going to wake up with you in control. Once, I guess I can deal with. But don’t make a habit of it.”

“I promise—I want to make a habit of being with you, but not that way.”

And there it is: I had to go and bring up the issue of where we go from here. We got through the past, are enjoying the present, but now I push it and we stumble on the future.

“You’ve seen my life,” she says. “Tell me a way you think this can work.”

“We’ll find a way,” I tell her.

“That’s not an answer. It’s a hope.”

“Hope’s gotten us this far. Not answers.”

She gives me a hint of a grin. “Good point.” She takes a sip of coffee, and I can tell another question’s coming. “I know this is weird, but … I keep wondering. Are you really not a boy or a girl? I mean, when you were in my body, did you feel more … at home than you would in the body of a boy?”

It’s interesting to me that this is the thing she’s hung up on.

“I’m just me,” I tell her. “I always feel at home and I never feel at home. That’s just the way it is.”

“And when you’re kissing someone?”

“Same thing.”

“And during sex?”

“Is Sunghoon blushing?” I ask. “Right now, is he blushing?”

“Yeah,” Hanni says.

“Good. Because I know I am.”

“You’ve never had—?”

“It wouldn’t be fair of me to—”

“Never!”

“I am so glad you find this funny.”

“Sorry.”

“There was this one girl.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Yesterday. When I was in your body. Don’t you remember? I think you might have gotten her pregnant.”

“That’s not funny!” she says. But she’s laughing.

“I only have eyes for you,” I say.

Just six words, and the conversation turns serious again. I can feel it like a shift in the air, like when a cloud moves over the sun. The laughter stops, and we sit there in the moment after it’s faded away.

“Yn—” she starts. But I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear about Minji or impossibilities or any of the other reasons why we can’t be together.

“Not now,” I say. “Let’s stay on the nice note.”

“Okay,” she says. “I can do that.”

She asks me about more of the things I noticed when I was in her body, and I tell her about the birthmark, about different people I noticed in her classes, about her parents’ concern. I share the Yeeun memory, but don’t tell her my observations about Minji, because she already knows those things, whether or not she admits them to me or herself. And I don’t mention the slight wrinkles around her eyes or her pimples, because I know they would bother her, even when they add something real to her beauty.

Both of us have to be home for dinner, but the only way I’m willing to let her leave is to extract a promise that we’ll share time together soon. Tomorrow. Or if not tomorrow, the next day.

“How can I say no?” she says. “I’m dying to see who you’ll be next.”

I know it’s a joke, but I have to tell her, “I’ll always be Yn.”

She stands up and kisses me on the forehead.

“I know,” she says. “That’s why I want to see you.”

We leave on a nice note.

Day 6017

I have gone two days without thinking about Haruto, but it’s clear that Haruto hasn’t gone two days without thinking about me.

7:30 p.m., MONDAY

I still want proof.

8:14 p.m., MONDAY

Why aren’t you talking to me?

11:43 p.m., MONDAY

You did this to me. I deserve an explanation.

6:13 a.m., TUESDAY

I can’t sleep anymore. I wonder if you’re going to come back. I wonder what you’ll do to me. Are you mad?

2:30 p.m., TUESDAY

You have to be the devil. Only the devil would leave me like this.

2:12 a.m., WEDNESDAY

Do you have any idea what it’s like for me now?

The burden I feel is the burden of responsibility, which is a tricky one to deal with. It makes me slower, heavier. But at the same time, it prevents me from floating away into meaninglessness.

It is six in the morning; Vanessa Martinez has gotten up early. After reading Haruto’s emails, I think about what Hanni said, what Hanni feared. Haruto deserves no less of a response from me.

It will never happen again. That is an absolute. I can’t explain much more than that, but this much I know: It only happens once. Then you move on.

He writes me back two minutes later.

Who are you? How am I supposed to believe you?

I know that any response I give runs the risk of being posted on Reverend Poole’s website within seconds. I don’t want to give him my real name. But I feel if I give him a name, it will make it less likely he sees me as the devil, and more likely he will see me for what I am: just a person like him.

My name is Akira. You need to believe me because I am the only person who truly understands what happened to you.

Not surprisingly, he replies with:

Prove it.

I tell him:

You went to a party. You didn’t drink. You chatted with a girl there. Eventually she asked you if you wanted to go dance in the basement. You did. And for about an hour, you danced. You lost track of time. You lost track of yourself. And it was one of the most fantastic moments of your life. I don’t know if you remember it, but there will probably come a time when you are dancing like that again, and it will feel familiar, you will know you’ve done it before. That will be the day you forgot. That’s how you’ll get that part of it back.

This isn’t enough.

But why was I there?

I try to keep it simple.

You were there to talk to the girl. For just that one day, you wanted to talk to that girl.

He asks:

What is her name?

I can’t get her involved. I can’t explain the whole story. So I choose to evade.

That’s not important. The important thing is that for a short time, it was worth it. You were having so much fun that you lost track of time. That’s why you were at the side of the road. You didn’t drink. You didn’t crash. You just ran out of time.

I’m sure it was scary. I’m positive it’s hard to comprehend. But it will never happen again.

Answerless questions can destroy you. Move on.

It’s the truth, but it’s not enough.

That would be easy for you, right? If I moved on.

Every chance I give him, every truth I tell him, lightens the burden of my responsibility that much more. I sympathize with his confusion, but I feel nothing toward his hostility.

Haruto, what you do or don’t do is no concern of mine. I’m just trying to help. You’re a good guy. I am not your enemy. I never have been. Our paths just happened to cross. Now they’ve diverged.

I’m going to go now.

I close the window, then open a new one to see if Hanni will appear in it. I realize I haven’t yet determined how far away I am from her, and am disheartened to find she’s nearly four hours away. I break the news to her in an email, and an hour later she says that it was going to be hard to meet up today, anyway. So we aim for tomorrow.

In the meantime, there’s Vanessa Martinez to contend with. She runs at least two miles every morning, and I am already late for the routine. She has to make do with a single mile, and I can almost hear her chiding me for it. At breakfast, though, nobody else says anything—Vanessa’s parents and sister seem genuinely afraid of her.

This is my first tipoff to something I will see evidenced again and again throughout the day: Vanessa Martinez is not a kind person.

It’s there when she meets up with her friends at the start of school. They, too, are afraid of her. They’re not dressed identically, but it’s clear they’ve all dressed within the same sartorial guidelines, dictated by you-know-who.

She has a poison personality, and I feel that even I am susceptible to it. Every time there’s something mean to be said, everyone looks to her for a comment. Even the teachers. And I find myself stuck in those silences, with words on the venomous tip of my tongue. I see all the girls who aren’t dressed within the guidelines, and see how easy it would be to tear them all apart.

Is that a backpack that Lauren has on? I guess she’s acting like she’s in third grade until her chest fills in. And, oh my God, why is Felicity wearing those socks? Are those kittens? I thought only convicted child molesters were allowed to wear those. And Kendall’s top? I don’t think there’s anything sadder than an unsexy girl trying to dress sexy. We should have a fund-raiser for her, it’s so sad. Like, tornado victims would look at her and say, “No, really, we don’t need the money—give it to that unfortunate girl.”

I don’t want these thoughts anywhere near my mind. The weird thing is that when I withhold them, when I don’t let Vanessa say them out loud, I don’t sense relief from any of the people around me. I sense disappointment. They’re bored. And their boredom is the thing that the meanness feeds on.

Vanessa’s boyfriend, a jock named Jeff, thinks it’s her time of the month. Her best friend and number one acolyte, Cynthia, asks her if someone died. They know something’s off, but will never guess the real reason. They certainly won’t think she’s been taken over by the devil. If anything, they’re suspicious that the devil’s taken a day off.

I know it would be foolish of me to try to change her. I could run off this afternoon and sign her up to volunteer in a soup kitchen, but I’m sure when she arrived there tomorrow, she’d only make fun of the homeless people’s clothes, and the quality of the soup. The best I could probably do would be to get Vanessa into a compromising position that someone could blackmail her about. (Did you all see the video of Vanessa Martinez walking through the hallway in her thong underwear, singing songs from Sesame Street? And then she ran into the girls’ room and flushed her own head in a toilet?) But that would be stooping to her level, and I’m sure that using her own poison against her would cause at least a little of it to fall back inside me as well.

So I don’t try to change her. I simply halt her ire for a single day.

It’s exhausting, trying to make a bad person act good. You can see why it’s so much easier for them to be bad.

I want to tell Hanni all about it. Because when something happens, she’s the person I want to tell. The most basic indicator of love.

I have to resort to email, and email is not enough. I am starting to get tired of relying on words. They are full of meaning, yes, but they lack sensation. Writing to her is not the same as seeing her face as she listens. Hearing back from her is not the same as hearing her voice. I have always been grateful for technology, but now it feels as if there’s a little hitch of separation woven into any digital interaction. I want to be there, and this scares me. All my usual disconnected comforts are being taken away, now that I see the greater comfort of presence.

Haruto also emails me, as I knew he would.

You can’t leave now. I have more questions.

I don’t have the heart to tell him that’s the wrong way to think about the world. There will always be more questions. Every answer leads to more questions.

The only way to survive is to let some of them go.

Day 6018

The next day I am a boy named George, and I am only forty-five minutes away from Hanni. She emails me and says she’ll be able to leave school at lunch.

I, however, am going to have a harder time, because today I am homeschooled.

George’s mother and father are stay-at-home parents, and George and his two brothers stay at home with them each and every day. The room that in most homes would be called the rec room is instead called “the schoolhouse” by George’s family. The parents have even set up three desks for them, which seem to have been left over from a one-room schoolhouse at the turn of the last century.

There is no sleeping late here. We’re all woken at seven, and there’s a protocol about who showers when. I manage to sneak a few minutes at the computer to read Hanni’s message and send her one of my own, saying we’ll have to see how the day plays out. Then, at eight, we’re promptly at our desks, and while our father works at the other end of the house, our mother teaches us.

By accessing, I learn that George has never been in a classroom besides this one, because of a fight his parents had with his older brother’s kindergarten teacher about her methods. I can’t imagine what kindergarten methods would be shocking enough to pull a whole family out of school forever, but there’s no way to access information about this event—George has no idea. He’s only dealt with the repercussions.

I have been homeschooled before, by parents who were engaged and engaging, who made sure their kids had room to explore and grow. This is not the case here. George’s mother is made of stern, unyielding material, and she also happens to be the slowest speaker I’ve ever heard.

“Boys … we’re going to talk … about … the events … leading up … to … the Civil … War.”

The brothers are all resigned to this. They stare forward at all times, a pantomime of paying perfect attention.

“The president … of the … South … was … a man … named … Jefferson … Davis.”

I refuse to be held hostage like this—not when Hanni will soon be waiting for me. So after an hour, I decide to take a page from Nathan’s playbook.

I start asking questions.

What was the name of Jefferson Davis’s wife?

Which states were in the Union?

How many people actually died at Gettysburg?

Did Lincoln write the Gettysburg Address all by himself?

And about three dozen more.

My brothers look at me like I’m on cocaine, and my mother gets flustered with each question, since she has to look up each answer.

“Jefferson Davis … was married … twice. His first wife … Sarah … was the daughter of … President … Zachary Taylor. But Sarah … died … of malaria … three months after … they … were … married. He remarried …”

This goes on for another hour. Then I ask her if I can go to the library, to get some books on the subject.

She tells me yes, and offers to drop me off herself.

It’s the middle of a school day, so I’m the only kid in the library. The librarian knows me, though, and knows where I’m coming from. She is nice to me but abrupt with my mother, leading me to believe that the kindergarten teacher isn’t the only person in town who my mother thinks is not doing her job right.

I find a computer and email my location to Hanni. Then I take a copy of Feed off the shelves and try to remember where I left off reading, a number of bodies ago. I sit at a carrel by a window and keep being drawn to the traffic, even though I know it’s still a couple of hours until Hanni will show up.

I shed my borrowed life for an hour and put on the borrowed life of the book I’m reading. Hanni finds me like that, in the selfless reading space that the mind loans out. I don’t even notice her standing there at first.

“Ahem,” she says. “I figured you were the only kid in the building, so it had to be you.”

It’s too easy—I can’t resist.

“Excuse me?” I say somewhat abruptly.

“It’s you, right?”

I make George look as confused as possible. “Do I know you?”

Now she starts to doubt herself. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just, uh, am supposed to meet somebody.”

“What do they look like?”

“I don’t, um, know. It’s, like, an online thing.”

I grunt. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I can’t. There’s this really amazing girl I’m supposed to meet.”

She looks at me hard. “You jerk.”

“Sorry, it was just—”

“You jerky … jerk.”

She’s seriously pissed; I’ve seriously messed up.

I stand up from my carrel.

“Hanni, I’m sorry.”

“You can’t do that. It’s not fair.” She is actually backing away from me.

“I will never do it again. I promise.”

“I can’t believe you just did that. Look me in the eyes and say it again. That you promise.”

I look her in the eyes. “I promise.”

It’s enough, but not really. “I believe you,” she says. “But you’re still a jerk until you prove otherwise.”

We wait until the librarian is distracted, then sneak out the door. I’m worried there’s some law about reporting homeschooled kids when they go AWOL. I know George’s mother is coming back in two hours, so we don’t have much time.

We head to a Chinese restaurant in town. If they think we should be in school, they keep it to themselves. Hanni tells me about her uneventful morning—Yunjin and Kazuha got into another fight, but then made up by second period—and I tell her about being in Vanessa’s body.

“I know so many girls like that,” Hanni says when I’m done. “The dangerous ones are the ones who are actually good at it.”

“I suspect she’s very good at it.”

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t have to meet her.”

But you didn’t get to see me, I think. I keep it to myself.

We press our knees together under the table. My hands find hers and we hold them there. We talk as if none of this is happening, as if we can’t feel life pulse through all the spots where we’re touching.

“I’m sorry for calling you a jerk,” she says. “I just—this is hard enough as it is. And I was so sure I was right.”

“I was a jerk. I’m taking for granted how normal this all feels.”

“Minji sometimes does that. Pretends I didn’t tell her something I just told her. Or makes up this whole story, then laughs when I fall for it. I hate that.”

“I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s okay. I mean, it’s not like she was the first one. I guess there’s something about me that people love to fool. And I’d probably do it—fool people—if it ever occurred to me.”

I take all of the chopsticks out of their holder and put them on the table.

“What are you doing?” Hanni asks.

I use the chopsticks to outline the biggest heart possible. Then I use the Sweet’N Low packets to fill it in. I borrow some from two other tables when I run out.

When I’m done, I point to the heart on the table.

“This,” I say, “is only about one ninety-millionth of how I feel about you.”

She laughs.

“I’ll try not to take it personally,” she says.

“Take what personally?” I say. “You should take it very personally.”

“The fact that you used artificial sweetener?”

I take a Sweet’N Low packet and fling it at her.

“Not everything is a symbol!” I shout.

She picks up a chopstick and brandishes it as a sword. I pick up another chopstick in order to duel.

We are doing this when the food arrives. I’m distracted and she gets a good shot in at my chest.

“I die!” I proclaim.

“Who has the moo shu chicken?” the waiter asks.

The waiter continues to indulge us as we laugh and talk our way through lunch. He’s a real pro, the kind of waiter who refills your water glass when it’s half empty, without you noticing he’s doing it.

He delivers us our fortune cookies at the end of the meal. Hanni breaks hers neatly in half, checks out the slip of paper, and frowns.

“This isn’t a fortune,” she says, showing it to me.

YOU HAVE A NICE SMILE.

“No. You will have a nice smile—that would be a fortune,” I tell her.

“I’m going to send it back.”

I raise an eyebrow … or at least try to. I’m sure I look like I’m having a stroke.

“Do you often send back fortune cookies?”

“No. This is the first time. I mean, this is a Chinese restaurant—”

“Malpractice.”

“Exactly.”

Hanni flags the waiter down, explains the predicament, and gets a nod. When he returns to our table, he has a half dozen more fortune cookies for her.

“I only need one,” she tells him. “Wait one second.”

The waiter and I are both paying close attention as Hanni cracks open her second fortune cookie. This time, it gets a nice smile.

She shows it to both of us.

ADVENTURE IS AROUND THE CORNER.

“Well done, sir,” I tell the waiter.

Hanni prods me to open mine. I do, and find it’s the exact same fortune as hers.

I don’t send it back.

We return to the library with about a half hour to spare. The librarian catches us walking back in, but doesn’t say a word.

“So,” Hanni asks me, “what should I read next?”

I show her Feed. I tell her all about The Book Thief. I drag her to find Destroy All Cars and First Day on Earth. I explain to her that these have been my companions all these years, the constants from day to day, the stories I can always return to even if mine is always changing.

“What about you?” I ask her. “What do you think I should read next?”

She takes my hand and leads me to the children’s section. She looks around for a second, then heads over to a display at the front. I see a certain green book sitting there and panic.

“No! Not that one!” I say.

But she isn’t reaching for the green book. She’s reaching for Harold and the Purple Crayon.

“What could you possibly have against Harold and the Purple Crayon?” she asks.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were heading for The Giving Tree.”

Hanni looks at me like I’m an insane duck. “I absolutely HATE The Giving Tree.”

I am so relieved. “Thank goodness. That would’ve been the end of us, had that been your favorite book.”

“Here—take my arms! Take my legs!”

“Take my head! Take my shoulders!”

“Because that’s what love’s about!”

“That kid is, like, the jerk of the century,” I say, relieved that Hanni will know what I mean.

“The biggest jerk in the history of all literature,” Hanni ventures. Then she puts down Harold and moves closer to me.

“Love means never having to lose your limbs,” I tell her, moving in for a kiss.

“Exactly,” she murmurs, her lips soon on mine.

It’s an innocent kiss. We’re not about to start making out in the beanbag chairs offered by the children’s room. But that doesn’t stop the ice-water effect when George’s mother calls out his name, shocked and angry.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demands. I assume she’s talking to me, but when she gets to us, she pummels right into Hanni. “I don’t know who your parents are, but I did not raise my son to hang out with whores.”

“Mom!” I shout. “Leave her alone.”

“Get in the car, George. Right this minute.”

I know I’m only making it worse for George, but I don’t care. I am not leaving Hanni alone with her.

“Just calm down,” I tell George’s mother, my voice squeaking a little as I do. Then I turn to Hanni and tell her I will talk to her later.

“You most certainly will not!” George’s mother proclaims. I take some satisfaction in the fact that I’m only under her supervision for another eight hours or so.

Hanni gives me a kiss goodbye and whispers that she’s going to figure out a way to run away for the weekend. George’s mother actually grabs him by the ear and pulls him outside.

I laugh, and that only makes things worse.

It’s like Cinderella in reverse. I’ve danced with the prince, and now I’m back home, cleaning the toilets. That is my punishment—every toilet, every tub, every garbage pail. This would be bad enough, but every few minutes, George’s mother stops in to give me a lecture about “the sins of the flesh.” I hope that George doesn’t internalize her scare tactics. I want to argue with her, tell her that “sins of the flesh” is just a control mechanism—if you demonize a person’s pleasure, then you can control his or her life. I can’t say how many times this tool has been wielded against me, in a variety of forms. But I see no sin in a kiss. I only see sin in the condemnation.

I don’t say any of this to George’s mother. If she were my full-time mother, I would. If I were the one who would shoulder the aftermath, I would. But I can’t do that to George. I’ve messed up his life already. Hopefully for the better, but maybe for the worse.

Emailing Hanni is out of the question. It will just have to wait until tomorrow.

After all the toil is done, after George’s father has weighed in with a speech of his own, seemingly dictated by his wife, I head to bed early, take advantage of having the silence of a room all to myself. If my time as Hanni is any proof, I can construct the memories that I will leave George with. So as I lie there in his bed, I conjure an alternate truth. He will remember heading to the library, and he will remember meeting a girl. She will be a stranger to town, dropped off at the library while her mother visited an old colleague. She asked him what he was reading, and a conversation began. They went for Chinese food together and had a good time. He was really into her. She was really into him. They went back to the library, had the same conversation about The Giving Tree, and moved in to kiss. That’s when his mother arrived. That’s what his mother disrupted. Something unexpected, but also something wonderful.

The girl disappeared. They never told each other their names. He has no idea where she lives. It was all there for a moment, and then the moment unraveled.

I am leaving him with longing. Which may be a cruel thing to do, but I’m hoping he will use his longing to get out of this small, small house.

[fluffykitty149]

Made A damimaps fic for creative writing.

All characters belong to DC Comics

Maps hated stuffy parties but she had to see Damian. She and her family were invited to one the Wayne’s many charity events. Her father and stepmother saw it as an opportunity to mingle with the other socialites but Maps decided to dedicate it to her mission. Someone had been sabotaging the work put into the Addams Family Musical and she was determined to figure out who. The design of her plan was brilliant. She’d greet some people to please her parents, head to the buffet to gorge on some snacks, and keep a vantage point to look for Damian, then spot Damian, pull him aside and tell him her mission. It was honestly brilliant. 

“Now Mia I want you to be on your best behavior,” Her stepmother warned “let’s not have a repeat of what happened at our party last month. I also want you to go apologies to Bruce. Honestly, the way you were acting it’s like you were trying to embarrass us”

Maps blushed, it wasn’t that she was trying to embarrass her family, she just needed a trick to get out of the party early. Although saying that out loud wouldn’t help her case. “I’ll behave,” she promised. Or at the very least, she’d try not to scare anyone. Luckily Damian doesn’t scare easily. 

Her stepmother nodded curtly and goes to talk with her father over plans for the evening while Kyle quirked his lip up at his sister. “You sure you can behave yourself?” he asked coyly.

Maps snorted, “please, I am perfectly capable of behaving myself.” she said snootily. The two shared a laugh and her stepmother sighed while shaking her head. The car pulls up to Wayne Manor with Papparazi flashing cameras on the carpet. Maps sighed and sucks it up before she and her family leave her car. 

“MR. MIZOGUCHI OVER HERE!”

“KYLE MIZOGUCHI, WHAT ARE YOUR PLANS FOR THE UPCOMING SCHOOL YEAR?”

“MIA MIZOGUCHI WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP TO DAMIAN WAYNE?”

The last one made her freeze but she shook it off and continued on her journey. ‘It’s not like they know I know Dami,’ she told herself. ‘I just so happen to be in his age range.’ she continued with newfound determination and walked alongside her family inside. It was absolutely stunning. The foyer and great hall had glistening chandeliers, beautiful mahogany finishings, and delicate pieces of art for display, the gleaming marble floors were filled with different levels of socialites and reporters that mingled around. She was just about to begin her quest when a firm hand grabbed her shoulder. “I believe you remember our agreement?” Her stepmother warns. 

Maps, despite her frustration, nodded her head. ‘It’ll probably be an easier way to find him regardless.’ she tried telling herself as her stepmother guided her to Mr. Wayne. Mr. Wayne was a large but gentle man. Honestly it seemed like a fun idea to try and climb him but that would probably just get her into trouble. 

“Oh Bruce!” Her stepmother called with a wave of her hand. 

Bruce Wayne looks over in her direction and smiled. “Claire!” he greeted with a hug and a pat. “You’re looking well.” He spots Maps behind her. “You’re Mia right?”

“People call me Maps. Do you know where Damian is? I wanted to ask him something.”

Her stepmother cleared her throat. 

“Oh! Also sorry for being so weird when you came to our party. I was in emotional distress.” Her mother resisted the urge to face palm and Bruce laughed. 

“No worries Maps. I hope that emotional distress got resolved.” Bruce responded with a smile. “Damian is with his siblings over there. Might I ask why you need him?”

‘I wanna do an investigation and he’s my backup.’ 

“I just wanted to ask him for some art advice. From one artist to another.”

Bruce looked surprised. “I didn’t know you painted,” he said in a charmed voice. “What’s you’re preferred art style?”

Maps blanked for a second but then moves to awkwardly rub the back of her neck. “Mainly fantasy stuff.” she mumbled.

“That’s lovely,” Bruce smiled with warmth “Damian is into realism and landscape art. It would be interesting to see how the two connect.”

Maps smiled at Mr. Wayne, “Yup! Dami’s a great artist, you said Damian was over there?” she points in the general direction.

Bruce laughed “Yes, you’ll find him with his siblings. I should warn you, he can get prickly when his siblings embarrass him.”

Maps shrugs “Damian’s always prickly. I’m sure I can handle it.” 

“MIA!” Her stepmother exclaims.

“It’s quite alright Claire” Bruce waved her off. “Most people close to Damian can testify to that. “Best of luck Maps.” Maps saluted Bruce before continuing on her journey. 

Maps followed the general direction given to her until she spots Damian. “Hey Dami!” she waved as she ran over to him. 

Damian looked surprised but schooled his face. “Mia? What are you doing here?”

Maps smiled “I wanted to ask you something. You got a second?”

He was about to respond when an arm draped over him. “Who’s your friend,” an adult man said with a charming smile.

Damian sighed in annoyance. “Mia, meet Richard.”

Dick whistles lowly “Wow first name basis, you two must be close,” he said as he brought his hand out to shake. 

Maps shook his hand “Nah, it’s because he refuses to use my nickname. Call me Maps.”

Richard’s eyes scrunched up and twinkled. “Ah, he doesn’t use mine either. People call me Dick.”

Map’s eyes bulged out of her head as she resists laughter. “It’s because it’s a stupid nickname,” Damian chastised. “What did you want Mia?” 

“Oh, just wanted some help for some art junk. We’re planning out the musical at school and need extra hands. You interested?”

Damian is about to respond when Jason came in using his head as an arm holder. “What’s this about musicals?” he greeted.

“None of your business Todd. Now get lost!” Damian responded as he shoved his brother off. 

“I was just asking Damian if he could help us paint the backdrops. Extra hands and all that.” Damian raised an eyebrow in suspicion but Jason ruffles his hair. 

“Sounds good to me! Little man could use some extracurriculars.”

“Get off Todd! And I’m already a part of the animal rights club! I don’t need another!” 

“Pleaaase!” Maps begged “It’s super important! Plus, you’re the best landscape guy I know!” 

Damian’s ears turned red and he cleared his throat. “I suppose I can swing by to assist. I make no promises.”

“Yes!” Maps fist pumps. “Thanks Dami!” It wasn’t her original plan but the motion was set. Ultimate team power was back baby!

[stitching-in-time]

Voyager rewatch s3 ep23: Distant Origin

The dinosaur episode. I will never be able to think of this one as anything but the dinosaur episode. I like the message it was trying to get across about how adhering to strict religious or cultural dogma impedes the search for scientific truth, but I can't get past the whole 'dinosaurs went to space' thing, no matter how hard I try.

It's not like the premise of dinosaurs evolving into a sentient humanoid species hasn't been done before on sci-fi shows, since Doctor Who did it way back in 1970 with the Silurians. But Doctor Who always had more of a fantasy bent than Star Trek, which for the most part, tries to stick to things that at least seem more like real science. I'm more willing to go with dinosaur people on Doctor Who, where they don't seem so silly next to the Doctor, who's basically an immortal alien wizard who swans around wearing velvet capes. Next to a more mundane, human Starfleet crew, the talking dinosaur people feel a little ridiculous.

Maybe the makeup is part of it- it's not bad, by any means, in fact it's extremely well sculpted and colored, and holds up in close ups, but it's just so clunky and overwhelming- it feels like guys in dinosaur costumes. The dinosaur hands, which are a nice detail from a design standpoint, also just look like clunky mittens when actually worn by the actors. None of the actors are bad, they're all playing it straight and doing a good job, but somehow I just could not suspend my disbelief for this one. (Also, having seen 'Doctor Who and the Silurians', I'm rooting for the dinosaur people to never figure out they came from Earth tbh! The last thing Earth needs is a more technologically advanced race of dinosaurs coming to wipe out humans and take the planet for themselves!)

I felt like there was too much of the dinosaurs, as well- not only was the teaser a scene with them, the first segment afterward was also them, with no scenes on Voyager till after the second commercial break, and I didn't feel like they were interesting enough to sacrifice all that time to, when we could have had a story about the actual Voyager crew instead. The premise of these dinosaur aliens trying to find Voyager to prove they're distantly related is an decent one, but idk, I feel like it could have been structured better.

(Side note: there's a really great shot of the whole bridge from above, where you can see the four different levels of the floor- the upper part with tactical and operations stations, the middle platform with captain's and first officer's chairs, the lower side level with science and engineering stations on each side, and an even lower pit level down front where the helm is. You can also clearly see the track in the floor that Tom's chair is attached to, but I have definitely seen regular rolling chairs with spokes and wheels both there and at other stations on the ship- I think they must switch it out, depending on the needs of specific scenes in each episode. But I'm going to consider the anchored track chair the in-universe canon version.)

And one thing that nagged at me the whole time- who's skeleton was it that the dinosaur scientists found?! It was a former Maquis yellowshirt who died on a planet where his remains were unrecovered within the last year, so unless there was an unamed crewman who died offscreen, it has to be Hogan. That's so awful!! He got eaten by a giant worm that spit out his skeleton, which some space dinosaurs found, and now they're just gonna like, keep his bones in storage somewhere?! Omg that's just like, sad! I'm not religious or anything myself, but a lot of people place importance on giving their loved ones remains a proper burial, and I feel like that's so weird and creepy and disrespectful that this dinosaur scientist found the actual people who knew the guy who's bones he's been studying, and at no point did he say to Chakotay, 'hey, I'm sorry for the loss of your shipmate, do you want to take his remains back to his family?' It's just so macabre! I guess a lot of scientists are detached about the things they study, but yikes!! RIP Hogan, I hope your bones do some good in some dinosaur musem, and educate them about their distant Earth origins one day when they decide to stop being jerks about it.)

I wish I could do a proper breakdown of the story, but I'm just stuck on the talking dinosaur people, sorry. Aside from a cute little scene of Tom and B'Elanna flirting in engineering, I didn't find much of anything fun in this one.

Tl;dr: While I respect the attempt to do something different, this story just feels too far fetched to really be effective. I was too distracted by the silliness of the dinosaur makeup and the idea of space faring dinosaurs to take any of it seriously.

[multiplicity-positivity]

hi!! So, I'm really confused, and you're the only blog I know of to ask-

So, I'm the host, I discovered my system some months ago, when in my headspace, i can either only barely make out my own appearance, or I'm vaguely "me" (p much like the body), it's a little hard for me to visualize myself usually

Within the past week or two, upon trying to interact in headspace, I now can clearly see myself, however everytime I look like a v specific design of a character from my current hyperfixation, not even my favorite or a character I kin, it feels random?

So, my first thought was maybe we have a new fictive, but I only just watched the source recently and I haven't had anything too bad happen lately asides from stress, tho I don't know much about how splits work in my system yet-

My second thought is maybe this is just bc of being autistic? And being hyperfixated? But again I feel like if that was the case it would be the character design I'm hyperfocused on?

Idk, sorry this is rambley, I've been trying to figure this out and have gotten v confused and think I need a second opinion !! Thank you in advance ^^;

Hiya! Um, we’re not sure what kind of system you are, but we can say that many systems develop headmates for a huge variety of different reasons!! It’s not unheard of for a system to develop headmates due to their special interests, hyperfixations, or as a result of their neurodivergencies! :3

But like, if your system is traumagenic (whether fully or mixed origins), it would probably be a good idea to rule out trauma as a potential origin for this new headmate rather than just assuming they formed due to a hyperfixation. And it’s possible for both trauma and a hyperfixation to play a role in the formation of a new headmate!!

And, they may not be a headmate at all! If this is how you view yourself in your headspace, that may just be what’s happening, without being more complicated than that! Headspaces are visualization tools of fantasy and imagination, and what’s seen in the headspace doesn’t always have to be an indication of some deeper inner-system workings!! If that makes sense? Sorry if that sounds weird >_<

But like, within our paracosm, some members of our system appear as Jedi (from the Star Wars universe)! They’re not actually Jedi, and the presence of these alters as Jedi doesn’t mean we’ve obtained new fictives in our system… that’s just how these members present themselves when they’re engaging with the paracosm! Sorry if that doesn’t make much sense. Our system has a headspace that’s separate from our paracosm, but other systems may find these two things are one in the same! Basically it’s up to you to choose how you appear in your headspace, and just because you look different in the headspace than you do in real life doesn’t necessarily mean a new system member is around. Although it could mean that?? It’s really up to you and your system and how y’all choose to explain and define what you’re experiencing! :3

Sorry if this reply is all over the place or doesn’t make much sense! We haven’t been feeling well, but we wanted to at least try and explain what we think could be happening here. We definitely don’t have all the answers though! >_<”

💚 Ralsei and 🌸 Margo

[sirnavergi]

1: is that a fancy threat? or a weird prophecy?

2: neither

2: its a choice

fun fact! soleil’s main design hadn’t received an actual redesign since she was first created in 2021! while i changed super minor details along the way (bc i refuse to look at my own ocs references) he stayed fundamentally the same up until now! This still has many details from their og design but I simply gave it more character, I think! I’m frankly really happy with it ^_^

More yapping below

Sorry Its One Big Wall Of Text

One issue I had with Soleil’s initial design was that it was supposed to look a little weird. Like something your avg person wouldn’t wear 24/7. I couldn’t have her change outfits bc by the lore another weird thing he does is simply never change clothes. Their old design SURE was something your avg person wouldn’t wear everyday it was still lacking that ,, weirdness factor I think? It was really clean. I wanted her to look both organic and alive yet not exactly in a way that makes sense? Something graceful yet also just. flesh. Sol is cool bc. I associate her heavily with a lot of meat and flesh but she isn’t even flesh and bone herself. N that plays into the weirdness of it all too? I think. Its 1 am right now sorry if this is very badly worded LMAO Sol also acts as a good parallel to AZIMUTH actually in this design ideology bc . hes also supposed to look out of place and odd. But he looks out of place in a polished-almost out of your computer screen kind of way. Hes colorful (and he actually changes clothes very frequently. Too Frequently.) N thats a well contrast to sol.. I think.. Fun. Very Fun. Anyways yeah back to sol. Sols hair started out fairly tame but along the refusing to use references the art telephone game tm with myself it became very sharp and pointy and just. messy. and thats just not what i think he should look like ?!?! So i fixed up his hair. The tiptoeing thing was jist sumn that came to me while i was sketching N i was like OH this is it! That will add to the Weirdness Factor or something. I’ve walked on my tiptoes basically all my life n ppl always made huge of a deal out of it so ik from experience people notice it n perceive it as. odd behavior 🤧 I was thinking of mayb going for an anatomically correct heart silhouette or something but. Im very attached to soleils generally Very Symmetrical silhouette i didnt wanna touch it much… I think i incorporated enough <3 hearts to make up for it though! OH AND. Downturned her eyes! Ive been not drawing characters with downturned eyes for a while . Unsure why it became less frequent of me to draw them. Figured they fit her so. Thats a win for me bc i always love trying to make sure my ocs have unique ish traits within their circles. VERY LIKELY the design will get simplified as i draw him in the future. We’ll see i guess. That’s all i think maybe. Goodnight from the Key

[askmattsworld]

Ello!

Hi there; welcome to my/our askblog! If it wasn't obvious enough, this is a Mattsworld askblog! This is nearly my first (and a half I'd say I suppose?) askblog since another of mine is partially dead-- but that's off track! I myself; Snoop, right now am only one person running the blog, so bear with me here since I'm a minor too. (Who's unfortunately in High School with low-running motivation most of the time.) Current Rules / Basic Criteria !! -- I'd prefer if you were 13+ and below like 20 or so; since as I said I'm a minor, and if any of my close friends were to help out or join the askblog; most if not all of them are minors themselves. (I can make arrangements for very close people though.) Respect everyone; that goes for commenters, askers, posters, mods, and I myself. -- Going along with that; unless canon drama, please keep any and every other drama away from this blog! I don't need anymore stress than I already have. Shipping? Sure; you can make some jokes and tease the characters, just please don't force it upon any of them. Since; in this version of my AU there probably won't be any relationships with any of the main 4. (Sorry..) May have headcanons/canons about sexualities and other stuff though!! <3 Obviously; no racism, homophobic, sexism, etc. Going along with the respect everyone rule. We/I am fine with weird people since I'm weird myself but if you're too weird than don't expect to not get weird remarks or looks. NO NSFW! Like I said; I. AM. A. MINOR !! I myself make some jokes about it from time to time; sure you can make some subtle jokes, just please do not send me like; per say a whole ass AO3 fanfiction of anyone getting pounded, please. No spamming -- as well as; none of these characters are connected to any IRL counterparts, ever. - - - NOW!! Yes-- asks ARE indeed open currently!! Any character is up for asks; I'm still trying to figure out some characters but here's the basic criteria of who's swapped with who !! Matt = Edd Tord = Tom Edd = Matt Tom = Tord I am perhaps thinking of swapping Kim and Katya with Bing and Larry. (Maybe.) Neighbours designs aren't made yet. ...Nor anyone besides the main four. I accept DID systems (non-endogenic.) and Fictionkins here! IRLs are allowed too I guess. Just a warning for those in that criteria and other people in general!! Yes; there's going to be funny silly comedy moments, but also ANGSTY moments with BLOOD/GORE and LORE !! Keep that in mind. Annnddd, that's it! Enjoy your stay; lads! :D