#what have we wrought

[kathaynesart]

you: man how ridiculous it'd be to have a full on peepaw dating simulator

me a computer science major with an intense case of committing to the bit: ...... how ridiculous indeed

(this isn't a guarantee of anything but you haven't planted a wild idea in my head that i may pursue one day)

Like, theoretically speaking, no commitment intended, just saying, if it were even possible, the thing you just suggested, that may or may not happen, no guarantees necessary, but should it come to that and we cross paths again down the line, and such goals are met *INHALE* I would probably die. /pos

[baladric]

good morning folks, today i am very sad about [redacted]

[iwrotemrtambourineman]

Just saw a $50 tee shirt at the airport I fear we might be too far gone

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

We made Zero in Spore in the discord. It didn't go well

fear.

[theangel-aziraphale]

HELLO AZIRAPHALE.

I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM OF THE SOULS THAT WILL NOT DIE.

YOU ARE SUPREME ARCHANGEL. WHAT IS HEAVEN'S STANCE ON THE ISSUE?

@rider-on-a-white-horse

Well, hello Death!

Heaven is not too pleased about the lack of souls, really, uh... I'm hoping to rectify the situation soon?

[safyresky]

Hello hi, sorry to bother. But i'm in the middle fo righting my own ANGST and everything is horrible but i had a thought!

Have you ever had the idea of an AU where Jacqueline just fucking dies at the day of darkness? Just straight up bleeds out to death and dies. Jack is a full on child killer and Blinter is now back to only one kid. CATASTROPHE for sure, and the entire rest of the story never even happens. Everybody would stay frozen for an ETERNITY, Jack would have to go to jail for actual manslaughter, the works. But this idea has me thinking about what would happen anyway.

Im sorry that this thought is just incredibly morbid and sad, but i'm in my fictional world FEELS atm, and im very curious as to what this would look like/mean.

Me reading this:

My fiancé when I read this out loud: ANDIE ARE YOU OKAY?? DO YOU NEED A HUG????

He then IMMEDIATELY ASKS ME WHAT I THINK WOULD HAPPEN, and he kinda let me use him like a rubber duck (because I've thought of a lot of "what ifs" on the day of darkness, but never this what if admittedly bc. Y'know. Magical healing springs and such) so here's what I've got for you on this fine angsty night! It turned into a bit of a drabble...whoops? Anyway.

Enjoy!!!!! I hope it kills us all dead!!! 😊😊😊😊😊😊

__

Jack succeeds in something he never intended to do.

He sees the icicles go right through his little sister's body, all three of them; he sees the blood. He sees the magic on his hand, he KNOWS that it was him. He sees Blaise and Winter make it out of the house.

He panics.

He leaves her there in the snow, and he runs, disappearing into his storm.

Blaise and Winter rush to Jacqueline. They see the blood. They see the icicles. They go into crisis mode.

Maybe they bring her inside and stop the bleeding, but it's too late. Maybe she bleeds out on the spot. Maybe one of the icicles actually hits her heart or another organ that is integral to being alive and she dies before she even knows what hit her.

It'd be nice to think that, wouldn't it?

However it may come to pass, Jacqueline dies. She's gone. Blaise and Winter lay her to rest in Roseterra, hoping that it was fast and quick and that she's being taken care of by someone warm and sweet in Rosehaven. Maybe Mother Gaia; maybe the Goddess herself.

What comes next is hard.

Both Winter and Blaise are overcome with emotion; they've just lost one child by the hands of their other child.

In one fell swoop, they've lost both their children.

Winter freezes almost immediately after the funeral. She's desolate in her sadness; lost not one, but two children because Jack is, in fact, wanted. She has no words. What can she say? All she can do is cry and sob it won't change a thing. It won't bring her back. Nothing can.

Blaise struggles. He now has to apprehend his own son for murder. Murder of his own sister; Blaise's dear, dear little girl.

It hurts.

It hurts to think about how this happened, given that Jacqueline adored her older brother, and he her. He taught her everything she knew up until...that point.

He knows what he needs to do. But he can't bring himself to find Jack and do it. There's just too many emotions. That's his son for the springs sake! But he killed someone. He killed his own sister, Blaise's little snow angel, and murder is murder and it's hard to think that maybe there's some good left when the brightest little sprite is gone thanks to his son. He's all out of hope.

Blaise knows what needs to be done. He knows what he needs to do.

And like he had centuries, millennia before that, he encases his heart in stone.

It's his duty to bring Jack to justice. And he will do what he needs to do to get it done. Emotions be damned.

So both Blaise and Winter are, essentially, frozen over.

And they begin to drift.

Both are frozen; both keep their feelings to themselves. they don't talk like they used to. They focus on their jobs and nothing more.

Winter does as she was meant to do. She keeps the season going. But the winters change. They are cold, so, so, so very cold. Bitterly cold. Temperatures hit negatives that should not be hit. Twenty, forty, sixty, all below zero. They're dry. So very dry. So very dry and cold and there is no snow; just hard ground, cold, cold, cold and frozen. A tundra with no snow.

The joy of the season is gone.

Blaise throws himself into his work. His duties come first. At home, he exists alongside Winter, both numbed by grief and their hardened hearts. At work, he does his governor duties in the morning, and devotes his afternoons to the search for Jack.

The search lasts centuries.

A week after leaving, Jack checks in, as he does in a better timeline, to see if Jacqueline made it. But here, in this timeline, when he pokes around for his dear little sister's link with him, it's gone. It's dead. The spot in his mindscape that once housed the bright blue thread is cold and dead. Empty. The wind howls; beyond the connection, there is nothing.

He knows what he did. He killed her dead. And he knows the consequences, of course; but he refuses to face them. He refuses to face any of the memories, the feelings, the everything that transpired when he flung his hand and shink shink shink and the deep, deep pool of red and the darkness where once there was light.

He stays under the radar. He avoids the Council; he hides. And he is DAMN GOOD at it. Blaise expends so many resources and cannot find the man anywhere.

The years turn into decades; decades into centuries. Blaise intensifies his search for his son, throwing everything he has, all his power as Governor, his connections to other Governors and powerful castors, The Council of Legendary Figures, the operation up North--but he cannot find the man who murdered his daughter. He cannot find his son anywhere, and were he able to feel anything, he'd be furious.

But his heart is stony; all he can focus on is the hunt. Doing his duty. Bringing his little snow angel justice.

"It won't bring her back," Winter says to him one day. Her hair is so frozen it doesn't move; her face cold.

Blaise doesn't reply. Ash floats off his sooty head. His face is stony.

Winter would sigh, if she could bring herself to. But she can't. All she feels is a sadness that is building and building and growing into despair.

The front door opens and closes.

Blaise doesn't look up.

Winter doesn't look back.

---

They drift further and further; they rarely see one another. Winter finds solace in the mountains. Longer and longer stretches. The storms surrounding Bianca's Range grow stronger and stronger. The peaks are obscured constantly, now. The drifting mists from the crystal springs themselves can't even break through the whiteout.

Longer and longer stretches.

One day, she leaves for her new home.

The house, silent before, grows more silent still. Long ago, they had dreamt of filling the house to the brim with little flurries and spitfires.

But that was almost three thousand years ago.

Now it is filled to the brim with ghosts.

---

Jack gets cocky.

Of course he does; Blaise hasn't found him and it's been centuries. He ventures out. Shows up to a Council meeting or two. Plots and schemes and harasses Santa after Santa. Tries to gain the recognition that should be his.

Denial can be quite powerful when you live in it for a millennium and almost a half. You trap the thoughts of what could've been, what you could've done together; what you could've experienced with her. First partner. First major snowstorm. Freeze drying. Taking back the season together. the things you could've done, together!

Down the thoughts go, into the deep dark recesses of his memory until they no longer emerge. He goes about his business, getting closer and closer to taking out Santa, and having some near-misses of his own with the man pursuing him.

But an opportunity comes up; one that's too good to let go. You cause a little trouble here and there, have these amazing standees made of yourself with your own holiday name, and suddenly the entire Council is up in arms. So you go; this will be a fun one to get out of, and maybe Mother Nature will be so distracted by the balance swaying, that she won't think to tip off the authorities. The Authority.

Jack admires Blaise's tenacity. The man has NOT stopped pursuing him. He understands why, of course. Fully. But before he can dwell on it, he shoves the thoughts down down down, as far under the ground as she was now, and continues to do his thing.

And that's when he hears about it. Well, two things.

First off, Santa is stressed. Work is too much and the wife is expecting and he is afraid. He is TERRIFIED even. Jack can see the fear on his fellow Legend's face. He's very familiar with it. He's seen it on many a Santa before. Many a poor soul freezing to death. Falling to their death off a slippery slope. Landing in a heap with three icicles deep through their chest, the blood pouring out--

Down. Down, down, down. Lock those thoughts away. Deep breath. Keep going. Escape Clause?

Escape Clause.

Now that's interesting. Even more interesting when the other Legends don't tell him what it is. That's fine. He's clever. He'll figure it out.

And he does.

And all it takes is a little messing about here, clever words there, frosty meddling on the side, turning Curtis against Bernie, the whole nine yards.

And the family.

Jack chuckles to himself. Humans. So easy to get them upset! Rile them up enough, cause a very upsetting scene, and voila! Trouble in paradise!

A brief segue before this, of course, to follow Santa and the redheaded brat to the Hall of Snow Globes. Waiting just behind the doors and watching the secret door spin; waiting for it to spin back around to get in. Ignoring the very familiar handiwork of the icy walls inside the space and going for the prize.

Bring the man aside at his lowest low, get him to say the magic words, and voila!

Jack was Santa now.

But it didn't bring her back.

---

Not that he thought it would, of course. He'd like to think she was six feet under his long lost memories, but that was a lie.

She was always there. In the corners of his eyes, gone when he whipped around. One room over, gone when he entered it. Ghosts of giggles past and whispers of whoops when she mastered a new technique. Always there. Always in the corners, just out of reach.

So maybe, he had hoped, just a bit mind you, that somehow, doing this would change things!

But it didn't.

She was still gone, and his parents?

As gone as she was when he flipped the script on Santa.

He had it all. He had nothing. And when Scott finally appeared, Jack would've willingly gave it all away and turned himself in--if the man hadn't cut him off.

It was infuriating.

A last ditch effort to fight him for the jacket; a guilt trip that went nowhere (stealing the coat was nothing compared to stealing a life), and they were back.

As if nothing had happened.

And Jack knew that his time had run out.

Blaise had caught up to him.

---

Mother Nature had told Blaise of Jack's presence as soon as she could. Told him he would be staying at the North Pole. He had a large window of opportunity. Mother Nature felt this could be it.

And so had Blaise. His stony heart grew loud; he wouldn't blaze in this time, no. He'd do what needed to be done.

He gathered the Elite Peacekeepers, the Peace Enforcers. The strongest of spell casters. The most ruthless of the fighters. He prepped his staff, making sure he had the right spells himself.

He covered all the exit points of the Pole; pulled some strings to keep his son from escaping.

Murderer, his head corrected.

His heart was silent.

Troops assembling, he made one last trek through the city, past the springs, through the Forbidden Forest and up the Valley to Roseterra.

Her mausoleum was well kept. It always was. Flowers bloomed around it; the most beautiful snow sat on the top, hugging the warm structure. It was all sorts of light blues and yellows, her name written clearly still after all these years.

"I've got him now," Blaise said. "I'll bring you justice, snow angel. I love you."

He presses his forehead against the writing, his hand warm on the inscription. His eyes pricked, but no tears fell; they hadn't in years. He placed his flowers down, the orange lilies and red roses contrasting beside the fresh blue roses and white lilies, little red snow berries in between.

Good, he thought. Winter's okay.

And without a second thought, he kisses the tomb and turns to leave, the moment he had been waiting for for fourteen hundred years finally coming.

---

The Elfficers get him; the Council has him in their grasp. There is no escape. And before anyone can do anything, the Peace Enforcers come in, a stony man leading them, a staff glowing in his hand. His face is steely. Determined. Familiar. Older.

"That's enough," he says, his voice hard and full of a cold rage. "It's over."

"I know," Jack replies, as the Peace Enforcers spin circles of magic and capture him.

He's brought in, finally. Blaise does Santa a kindness and thaws his relatives. He doesn't say anything to the man. Leaves before he can see the family celebrate, together. He doesn't need to see that. He doesn't want to.

Outside, he taps his staff on the floor. It glows a multitude of colours, and Jack can feel so many magical traps and seals settle on him.

The fight is over. Neither sprite have any of it left in them.

And Jack is brought to justice.

He escapes, of course. Multiple times.

But Blaise catches him each time, patching the flaw.

The rehabilitation programs don't work. He keeps trying and trying to escape and a prison, a prison akin to the mortal ones, is made just for Jack.

There are a few more escapes, but they lead nowhere. He's caught each time. Until finally, he stays put. Makes himself comfortable, freezes the building solid with him inside. Brought to justice. (But it didn't bring her back).

Up in the mountains, Winter manages a sigh when she hears the news. Brought to justice. But like she had known the weeks after her darling little girl had passed, like she had told Blaise what felt like eons ago but also, like it was just yesterday, it hadn't brought her back.

And Blaise sits in the empty home, the dust and cobwebs clogging up the surfaces and corners. A sad wind blows through the desolate halls, echoing from bare room to bare room, wailing. He sits at the faded and worn chair at his desk.

He brought Jack in. He caught his daughter's killer. He brought justice.

But it didn't bring her back.

Jacqueline was still gone.

Winter was still gone.

Jack was gone.

They were all still gone, so far gone, and Blaise knew deep down, that he, too was gone.

And nothing could bring him back.

Nothing could bring any of them back.

Not even him.

---

(Comfortably hidden away in the East, The Man chuckles to himself, leaning back in his plush armchair and throwing his feet up on the ottoman below him, a roaring fire crackling in the fireplace. He chuckles to himself. He had heard the news. Blaise had lost everything.

The Man's lips quirked into a sneer of a smile. A simple curse was all it took; and a little bit of time, and boom. Blaise's life? Ruined. The Man closed his eyes, satisfied at last.

He had done it.)

[nevergeneralize]

“Nice try but I’m not adulting today”: the Millennials of Sk8

It’s really delightful to me that the grownups in Sk8 are recognizably millennials and I was really pleased by the way the show employs the visual hallmarks of my teen years to establish the flashbacks to the youth of the last generation. Feels like Officially becoming a Media Adult

Like obviously I am no longer the shonen target demo / main character being well out of my teens and that is not new, but I’ve been in a weird gap because Media Grownups have still seemingly been gen-Xers, aesthetically and values-wise (retro = the 80s, for seemingly forever), and that’s not me. But these Manic-Panic-haired Hot-Topic-shopping X-Games-watching sk8er bois absolutely are:

Kaoru was edgier in his youth than I would’ve dared in my own but I sure did have those bangs. Look at his eyeliner you could cut glass with those wings!!! He’s serving Avril Lavigne and I just know he’s got Death Cab or his local equivalent playing in his (wired, on-ear) headphones. This is ostensibly a school uniform but I wanted identical trendy skinny plaid pants so bad

Note the wallet chain and the aggressive side part which TikTok would have me believe is no longer cool?? This nice young man will go get a Godsmack shoulder tattoo at chef school and it will become part of his personal brand when he moves back to his hometown and decides to maintain a quirky high school hobby at great personal injury risk and what must be a disastrous sleep schedule situation. He’s somehow the best-adjusted man in all of shonen

And I know there’s not even a full generation between the two groups of main characters (as the show itself constantly jokes by way of Shadow’s objections to being called an old man) but they are separated by life-phase-dependent narrative trajectories: Reki and Langa and Miya are in coming of age (cough first love) stories, Kaoru is in a healing from old wounds story, Kojiro is a mentor figure (does he have character development or just a rockin bod?? Who’s to say) and Shadow is also mentor/supporter/team-mom. (Ainosuke is an important exception which I will discuss in a separate post; he’s in some ways belatedly coming of age.)

So the older group feels narratively/functionally like The Grownups but they are aesthetically My Peers. It’s kind of wild! “Feel old yet?” Yeah I do, finally, thanks! Congrats on graduating to anime adulthood my fellow millennials!

I’m sure there’s tons of other media where my generation is represented this way but this is the first one I’ve really noticed, maybe because it touches on a specific subculture that evokes my experience of youth, or maybe I don’t watch that many things set in the present anyway. Who knows. I think my particular delight in this experience also has to do with how Sk8 treats coolness and how the adults (at least The Founders) still get to have it. Maybe also the fact that the show’s characters get to be generationally differentiated but not at odds for that feels fresh to me; there are clearly marked aesthetic/narrative differences but they’re not hinging the conflict on the grownups being out of touch or the kids being immature. That feels a little bit utopian, actually, and opposed to a particular strain of discourse that paints Gen Z/The Youth as incomprehensible to the “olds” and separate from millennials, who should implicitly start to identify instead with more traditional values and attitudes, i.e. those of our parents. In fact I would argue that Sk8 actually models that identification with outdated parental values via Ainosuke and his family, and frames it as sad and toxic and villain-making, but we see a healthier alternative in the core squad, where Reki jokes about Shadow being an old man, and Joe and Cherry bemoan the kids joining vacation, but it’s lighthearted and we get to have fun joking about age/generational differences without it creating conflict! Found family/intergenerational dynamics without manufactured parent-child tension, except for fun at the beach! Neat! (Also the actual parent-child dynamics of Langa and his mom are pretty great)

So it’s cool to see my specific peer group’s aging represented without any suggestion that it should necessarily mean generational conflict or value-stagnation, or even uncoolness or the trope of inevitable adult boredom and the loss of youthful freedom and joy. We can have our own millennial culture AND separate adult narratives/problems AND solidarity with younger people AND empowered fully-realized maturing selves with fun hobbies! I can see myself in the Media Adults in a piece of media that’s got a pretty optimistic view of what adulthood means and I think that’s neat.

[scumbag-the-hedgehog]

@tactccladv asked: mina pops her head into the kitchen, completely unannounced. it was a surprise visit. she was planning on surprising fiona but that all changed when she found a lynx standing over the stove. a smile washes over her features, tail wagging. this is it. her chance. oh shit.. what does she say..?? the popstar clears her throat, slowly approaching the other. her face is a bit flush. ❛h-hey... lightning right? ❜ oh chaos... is she sweating right now?

Lightning knocks the ladle against the inside of the pot before swinging it around and pointing it at the mongoose. Not a single drop of broth is spilled. He's poised and ready to lay down the law for the sole space he had which was effectively his, the last remaining scrap of his peace of mind.

"The moment you cross that threshold, you step into my domain. Tread carefully and follow my instructions exactly, understood?"

With that warning given, he returns his attention to his work, affording the pop star only a sideways glance. "...as to your question, yes, that is me. You're one of Fiona's friends, right? I apologize for my outburst, I have too many bad experiences with people coming into the kitchen while I cook."

[essektheylyss]

Jon Stewart just tweeted “this is most entertaining season of cspan…ever” and I skdjakfkdjska. I cannot believe how wild the last 4 votes have been

IT'S WILD, THIS IS REALLY THE MOOD

[scribblewise]

Deciding to "ship" these two doodles together, I'm 38 years old.

[tsareviich]

verses

♕ ┊ v. young prince ┊ ❛ all grown ups were once children ❜ ♕ ┊ v. trilogy ┊ ❛ the crown prince of ravka ❜ ♕ ┊ v. kos ┊ ❛ you are my most trusted advisor ❜ ♕ ┊ v. ketterdam ┊ ❛ no mourners ; no funerals ❜ ♕ ┊ v. privateers ┊ ❛ and we could be pirates ❜ ♕ ┊ v. nichevo'ya ┊ ❛ a creature wrought from shadow ❜

-

♕ ┊ v. modern ┊ ❛ don't you know that the kids aren't all right? ❜ ♕ ┊ v. alt. modern ┊ ❛ i don't like violence. i'm a businessman. ❜ ♕ ┊ v. immortal ┊ ❛ we could stay young forever ❜ ♕ ┊ v. football ┊ ❛ famous for being almost famous ❜ ♕ ┊ v. regency ┊ ❛ heirs have the responsibility ❜ ♕ ┊ v. demigod ┊ ❛ you take what you can get ; and you make the most of it ❜ ♕ ┊ v. opposites attract ┊ ❛ a rat and his prince ❜ ♕ ┊ v. modern royal ┊ ❛ let me be your ruler ❜ ♕ ┊ v. pirates ┊ ❛ it's the age of princes and pirate ships ❜ ♕ ┊ v. vampire ┊ ❛ ordinary people who just happen to consume blood ❜ ♕ ┊ v. pirates ┊ ❛ it's the age of princes and pirate ships ❜ ♕ ┊ v. mermaid ┊ ❛ walking is just like swimming ❜ ♕ ┊ v. hollywood ┊ ❛ i once was poison ivy; but now i'm your daisy ❜

[kathaynesart]

I AM GOING TO THROW A BAG OF COFFEE SO HARD IT’LL PHASE THROUGH TIME AND SPACE SO FUTURE DONNIE CAN HAVE COFFEE AGAIN

Thank you, though I fear all that would do is cause a civil war within the resistance.

[gamesunbound]

A full listing of the Games Unbound social media accounts

Due to the world being the world, please enjoy this full listing of the places you can connect with Games Unbound on the internet.

Created: 11/13/2022 Last updated 8/5/2023

Instagram

Twitter

Facebook

LinkedIn

TikTok

Tumblr (hi)

Twitch

StartPlaying.Games

itch.io

Discord (GamesUnbound#0506)

YouTube

Reddit

Mastodon (dice.com)

Mastodon (mastodon.social) we fixed it and only have the one account on dice.com now

Kickstarter

Pinterest

Ko-fi

Spotify

Snapchat

CoHost

Peach

Amino

CounterSocial (@GamesUnbound)

Minds

Tribel

LiveJournal

Ello

DeviantART

MeWe

MySpace

Hive (@GamesUnbound)

Bluesky (8/5 finally)

Guilded

Vero

Pillowfort

Spoutible

Dreamwidth

Lemon8

[astrxealis]

SO MANY GOOD QUOTES IN THE SPAN OF SECONDS. god

[baladric]

we’ve reached a point where i can no longer talk about pirate au, partly bc quippy one-liners don’t suffice anymore and also bc l;akfjwoaiefjlkdfwf what the FUCK WHAT THE FUck whAT thE  FUk CCC<<<l;akfjwajfdjfdjwio

[cuddyclothes]

Trying To Make The 40 Orange Glaze Cake When You Can’t Bake For Shit

Okaay...I truly can’t bake for shit. My bread comes out unrisen and hard as a rock. My muffins burn and have been gaping bubbles inside. But I thought, “Dammit, I’ll make a few substitutions and I’ll make this cake”!

The cake is classifiable as a disaster.  I made a yellow cake from a 1950s recipe then discovered I needed an electric mixer and did not have two matching 8" pans. I called a Baker friend who told me to use a 10" lasagna pan. I accidentally baked it at a lower temperature. The edges browned but the rest looks unbaked. I put a knife in it and I don't know if I came out clean. It seemed like it. It's as flat as a pancake.

The filling is supposed to be whipped and flavored with orange zest and sugar. The recipe called it creme fraiche.. So instead I bought real creme fraiche. When I dumped it in a bowl it was liquid. I added the sugar and orange zest but it was still liquid. I put in some flour and cornstarch. Then whisked it until it was a little thicker. Meanwhile I had to make orange syrup. So I combined orange juice,  sugar, and water (the recipe). It didn't thicken like it was supposed to, so I put in cornstarch. But I forgot to put the cornstarch in water first. So it clumped. I put it in my Magic Bullet and tried to blend it. There were still clumps so I strained it. I cut the cake in half, and got out the creme fraiche. It probably turned liquid and ran all over the place, including the flat layers of cake. I put orange chunks in it. They swam in the filling and slid off.

I put the top layer on, brushed orange syrup on it. Then I looked at the recipe and saw I was supposed to do it inside the top layer. Figuring I should stop while I was behind, I discovered I didn't have anything that I could put it in that would fit into our tiny fridge. I cut it in two and put it in loaf pans.

Tomorrow, the thrilling conclusion! Cuddyclothes makes the orange glaze and will cheat by using canned icing! Photos of the pathetic mess to follow.