#truth bug

[osha-janitor]

[A letter flutters to the ground, near one of Janitor's bodies that are on break. The ink is precise and clear, though the letters slur into each other.]

-- Hey. It's been a while. I want to apologize, preferably in person. Are you okay with that? --

@xon-epgha

*Kishar picks up the letter and reads it.*

KISHAR: ... I Have No Idea How To Send My Reply. Going To Hope You Can Hear Me, Because My Answer Is I Am Fine With That

[weirderscience]

idg how people can squarsh big bugs like once a bug has surpassed a certain size it stops being a bug and is more like a mouse with an exoskeleton. cant stand to kill it. mospitos and ants and gnats though are like hampsters in that they are made for a gruesome bloody end and being turned into tiny bits of paste is an honorable and non-psychologically damaging death

[awesomecooperlove]

THE ONLY WAY TO END STUPIDITY IS TO WAKE UP HUMANITY

🦟🦗🦟

[elbdot]

In honor of posting my SEVENTH Fairy type yesterday it felt only appropriate to make this meme

[milolunde]

YOURE TAILOR-MADE FOR THIS ERA

FOOLED BY THIS TRUTHFUL ACTING

—-

Invasion of the voicebank snatchers am I right

[weallpartyatybcpatricksfuneral]

i don't ship peterick because calling whatever is actually wrong with them "romance" is a disservice to how genuinely insane they are for each other

[divinemachina]

hi tumblr. how do you like angelic centipede prophets

close-up on face + a height ref under read more!!

[chiricocuvie]

Oh everyone is so cooked

[cordycepsbian]

we were going to post this on aro awareness day but we're impatient so this is a week early. anyway. did you know the

[palin-tropos]

I do think it’s a little funny that people still fret about whether Harry and Kim can be “healthy” like first of all who cares the love is still there and second of all yes you can cultivate a healthy relationship with Kim right there in the game if you want to

The big misdirection in DE is how the game tells you over and over that Harry is unfixable because that’s his inner monologue of self hatred and you have to see outside the box and realize that recovery is very possible and the choices are right there

[osha-janitor]

[As if determined by fate itself to come at the least convenient possible time, Janitor's phone starts ringing.]

*Well, at least it didn't start ringing while they were having a breakdown... still not great, but... *

KISHAR: Hello? Who Is This.

[ratcandy]

moths don't have blood? not even a little bit? as a treat?

Not even a little bit as a treat!

Bugs have their own sort of pseudo-blood called hemolymph, which is not the same as human person blood because it lacks hemoglobin and serves primarily to transport nutrients as opposed to carry oxygen. They haven’t any Blood Vessels due to their circulatory system being open, so after being pumped through the “heart,” hemolymph is just freely moving through the body/the hemocoel (it’s been described to us as just “bathing the tissues” lmao) and therefore isn’t very great at getting oxygen around on its own

(Instead oxygen mostly gets thru the system via diffusion in a complex system of tracheae attached to spiracles on the outside of their body) (aka. Bugs breathe thru holes in their sides) (and they do not have lungs) (👍)

[euphreana]

The Shape of Truth - Chapter 14: Monster

Masterpost

-

Ambrosius tore through The Institute hallway, sword in hand. The Director was ahead of him, running for her life. It didn’t take long for him to catch her, and soon he had her shoved against the stone wall, sword at her throat.

“You killed Ballister.” Ambrosius growled. “There’s only one punishment in the kingdom for murder!”

“Mercy! Please!” The Director cried out.

“No. I couldn’t give mercy to Ballister, so won’t give mercy to you.”

He drew the sword back and rammed it home. Blood spurted, staining The Director’s white dress. She coughed reflexively. Bright red spittle splattered across Ambrosius’s face. Then through the pain, The Director smiled a cold, snake-like smile.

“Who’s the monster now?”

Ambrosius jolted awake. A string of dim lights draped overhead illuminated the room. He was in the hideout. It was night.

“Nimona?”

No answer. Ambrosius pushed himself half-upright on the couch. His heart was still racing. He rubbed a hand across his face, checking for blood. It was clean.

Ambrosius exhaled loudly and fell back onto the musty cushions.

Memories of the dream haunted him. He knew it hadn’t been real, but The Director’s words echoed in his mind.

Who’s the monster now?

Suddenly, the word that had triggered Nimona felt heavy. So much baggage from centuries of fear and contempt that had turned to disgust and outright hatred… It was terrifying to hear it directed at him. He’d felt justified in his dream though! He’d been enacting judgment for the good of The Kingdom. It hadn’t been murder, it had been justice. Right?

Ambrosius sat up. He needed a walk. He didn’t care that there was probably a manhunt for him going on - after a week of being trapped in the windowless psych ward, he wanted to get outside. Besides, he was far enough from the city lights that no one else should be out. And if he was seen… well, it wasn’t like his life could get any worse at this point. He had no way of proving his reasoning in attacking The Director so many days ago, and on top of that, he had one of the most recognizable faces in the kingdom. As good as Nimona’s intentions had been in breaking him out, the only future he saw for himself was behind bars. It was only a matter of time.

His leg had stopped bleeding, so he found a large piece of wood he could use as a crutch, and headed outside. The night was crisp, with a strong breeze that whistled through the trees around him. Ambrosius could easily see the wall encircling the kingdom from here - it looked within easy walking distance. He headed for it, hobbling as he went. If there were any cameras on the wall, they’d be watching outside the perimeter, leaving him unnoticed.

Ambrosius’s mind lost focus as he went. Too many thoughts were swirling in his head. Thoughts about The Institute, The Director, Ballister…

Suddenly, Ambrosius felt the whole weight of his grief. He hadn't had a chance to process it with a clear head yet, and it hurt so much…

He could remember the oily scent of Ballister’s hair. The feel of his supple skin pressed against his own. The taste of his lips when they kissed. And his eyes… There were always wrinkles under his eyes when he'd smiled. Ambrosius wondered what his smile would have looked like in another twenty years… sixty years… however long the two of them had lived. He wondered what their house would have looked like. Would they have picked something new and freshly built, or old and waiting to be remade?

There would have been a kitchen where Ballister could show him the kinds of food his family had once made, now lost to time. Ambrosius had had a book of recipes from his mom’s side, too - food he’d wanted to show Ballister someday. A day that would never come. Ambrosius blinked tears from his eyes. So many hopes and dreams, disappeared into the ether. Nothing was left for him. Even the packet of Ballister’s ashes was gone.

Ambrosius was so lost in thought, he almost didn't notice when he'd reached the wall. He looked up at the towering structure in the moonlight, running a hand over its ancient stone base. He’d never been out here before. He walked alongside, following the slight curve until he heard an unearthly noise. It sounded like a howl, but longer. A monster? Inside the wall? Nimona had gotten inside the wall - what if another had too?

Ambrosius knew he should be scared of that possibility, but the mental numbness that followed his grief just left emptiness in its wake. He didn’t care that this was a public safety risk - it wasn’t like he was in any shape to do anything about it. Besides, Nimona hadn’t seemed dangerous… although if this one was and it killed him, maybe he’d be remembered as a martyr instead of a disappointment.

Another mysterious howl rang out. Dull curiosity overcame Ambrosius’s vague sense of self-preservation, and he followed the noise to a tangle of plants growing against the wall. He poked his crutch into the mess of green, half expecting something to leap out at him and tear off his face. At least then maybe he wouldn't be recognized if he went into the city.

Nothing happened. He prodded around the plants, his crutch scraping against stone… until it hit air where the wall should have been.

Surprised, Ambrosius pulled the plants away, exposing what originally must have been a drain under the wall, but had crumbled and eroded into a passage almost a meter in diameter. The howling was coming from inside.

Ballister would have long since said they should leave and report this. He had always acted with caution. But Ballister was gone. No one was around to stop Ambrosius’s impulses. He wanted to see a real monster. If it killed him, all the better. The world would move on without him, the same way it had done with Ballister.

The passage was dark. Ambrosius had to crouch down on all fours, dragging his bad leg behind him. The howling grew louder. Louder. And then… It stopped.

Ambrosius pushed forward, determined to find the source of the noise. There was light ahead. Moonlight. He emerged from the passage into a field of tall grass. He looked up. Behind him, stone and concrete towered into the sky. He was outside the wall.

He should have been terrified. This was actual monster territory. Anything could be out here. But instead, he stood there, leaning against the wall, waiting for something to come and snatch him up. He waited for a while. Then a breeze struck him and the howling began again from inside the passage. It had been the wind howling the entire time.

Ambrosius slumped back against the wall, disappointed. Where were the monsters? For that matter, where was the wasteland of death he'd been told about? All he could see were grassy hills with mountains in the distance. No signs of hulking, ravenous beasts that stalked the land night and day. No rotting carcasses of unfortunate creatures strewn about like so much refuse. Nothing. The place looked like it had never been touched by anything larger than a rabbit.

Ambrosius clenched his fists. The monsters had to be out there somewhere.

“I'm here! Come and get me!” he shouted, his voice echoing off the wall.

He waited.

Nothing happened.

Nothing at all.

There was nothing out here.

Ambrosius felt his arms go slack as he slid down the wall to a sit. Had there ever been monsters prowling out here? Or had everyone been wrong? Had they always been wrong? How had this never come to light? Had The Institute been hiding this? Had they been lying to everyone for centuries just to keep the populace fearful enough to obey any order?

Ambrosius looked up at the wall behind him.

How much of his life had been built on lies?

[quins-makeshift-menagerie]

sigh hope everyone’s having a good [insert time of day]

[metamelonisle]

i actually know about kirby outside the context of smash bros or memes this makes me better than literally everyone i know irl and i am not joking

[theyhitthepentagon]

tommy drawings im on an art grind w this brush and hlvrai characters