The Tumblr fandom experience is writing a reminder to yourself of something important to your fandom and scheduling it for the day so you can remember to write a post about it later, accidentally posting it, and not realizing until later that you posted a post with just the words "Jason Todd death anniversary" on it on a day that was not in fact Jason Todd's death anniversary, and the only reason you realized you posted it was cause people were reblogging it, not to tell you the date of his death anniversary, not screaming at you for having the wrong date, just adding onto it like "don't worry I hear it wasnt permanent" and talking about how it's been 20ish years and stuff, like if I accidentally did that on Twitter, I would have people coming after me for weeks and discrediting everything I do as a "fake fan" like here on Tumblr we are all just vibin' and reblogging weird posts that only have 4 words and are completely inaccurate cause we don't care about facts, we care about community
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Reference for Hallowrove's scars!
First death: Lost the Feducci duel, got impaled with his lance. Would have healed more messily if Oversol hadn't been there to take it out and help afterwards.
Shapeling Arts first aid: stabbed in a dock brawl, patched up creatively by Haarsink
Vake: first encounter with it in BaL, the text mentioned it raking its claws down the player's legs while holding their shoulders and the image just stuck with me
Upper River Beast: sometimes there's a Big Fuckoff Flesh Creature. Lingering scar from an out-of-game roleplay incident.
Others: no consistent canonical placement for the assorted small scars, except for none around the eyes. Definitely most of them are from monster hunting or clambering around over walls and other types of Hallowroveish Activities they get into out of curiosity, but a couple lighter and older ones are from absentmindedness when they used to do metalwork and mechanical stuff on the Surface.
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Tekken character vignette pt. 1
Characters: Kazumi, Kazuya.
Word count: 165.
Kazuya is asleep when Kazumi slips into his room in the middle of the night. Her child looks peaceful in sleep.
Kazumi kisses his forehead. She looks fondly at her son, tracing her fingertips on his face, her own bearing a brittle smile. Her fever spikes prevented her from seeing her little angel for the past few days.
As she goes to the door to make her leave, a quiet rustle stops her.
“Mom?” the question comes out uncertain, she looks back to see Kazuya sitting up, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Go back to sleep, dear. You need it for the morning training,” she hears herself say. Kazuya looks confused but nods drowsily, and lays back in his futon.
Her hands shake as she closes the shoji door, knowing that if she gives in to her desire to go back and gather him in her arms, she would waver.
Her fists tighten, she has a mission to complete. It was a long time coming.
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He lives in Amity Park. Just one of seventy thousand people making a living under the shield.
He makes a modest salary working at a garage. There's a handful of cars per day, coming in for oil changes or tune-ups, and the work is divided between him and two coworkers.
He considers himself to be pretty average. One face lost within a sea of thousands. Unnoticed and unmemorable.
He doesn't mind. He's a pretty bland person overall. He doesn't do much other than work, eat, watch whatever's showing on TV when he's at his small apartment, and sleep; and he doesn't feel he needs more from life than that.
He moved to Amity Park a few years ago, after wandering from place to place.
The ghost thing was new to him. He can't remember seeing a ghost until after moving here. And when the purpose of the shield was explained to him, he couldn't imagine ghosts beyond a vague idea. They were said to be slightly translucent and able to fly. And, in Amity Park, ghosts are just another part of their way of life. A normal sight to see. Especially Phantom.
Even now he can't build a clear mental image or description when it comes to ghosts. He never had a chance to really take one in.
Every time he sees Phantom, his mind goes blank, in pure terror.
Even on the other side of the shield, high in the sky 500 feet away, barely even close enough to make out the cape and suit, the ghost would cause him to freeze in place on the sidewalk, forgetting how to breathe while people push past him to continue on their way.
---
He's at the garage when the sirens come on. In an oil-stained jumpsuit, on his back beneath a car.
At first he's confused, cocking his head to listen, but someone yells that it's the shield.
He should've recognized the sound. There's a drill twice a year. Somewhat of a holiday. The entire town meets up in the shelters under the city. But the timing is off. Wrong month, wrong day, wrong time. For one thing, there is no work on Drill Day. So he didn't make the connection at first.
He puts his wrench down and follows the others out of the garage.
When he steps through the door, he sees Phantom in the distance, throwing parked cars, and he freezes as the others run.
It gets hard to breathe. He can't get enough air. His vision zeroes in on Phantom, the rest of the world vanishing. His heart pounds in his chest like it's trying to free itself. Phantom is coming nearer. He feels dizzy. His head is swimming. He... he has to sit... His knees hit the asphalt. His palms keep him from falling, his eyes never leave Phantom. The ghost comes nearer, casually, meanderingly, blasting random objects. As near as three businesses down. Two. Phantom turns and blows up the building across the street.
Phantom turns back around. Eyes focused overhead, at the garage building. A giddy-looking grin. Then the eyes drift downward.
They lock on him.
"What do we have here? A flea that forgot how to scurry away?"
He shudders at the sound of the voice. Trembles as Phantom floats nearer. He cringes on the ground, seeing his death mere feet away. Stares wide-eyed.
Phantom's grin fades, eyebrows furrowing as eyes study his face. Then, "You?" The eyes narrow, a sneer crossing the face. "I should have finished you."
He shrinks back as Phantom reaches for him. Squeezes his eyes tightly shut. Death. Death.
But instead, a strong hand grips his upper arm—and something seems to light up behind his eyes.
Memories flow through him like water.
A sister. Spinning on her heel with long orange hair flying, a superior, righteous expression as she says something.
Parents. Both wearing tight jumpsuits, excited, building a deadly weapon at the dinner table while asking about school.
Friends. One in black and one with glasses, putting a finger to their earpieces as they talk over each other making suggestions.
...Himself.
Tiredly brushing long black bangs out of his eyes as he reaches for a toothbrush. Lying on his back looking up at the stars. Observing a translucent, slightly glowing gloved hand, wiggling the fingers.
He exhales with a hiss. And snaps his eyes open to glare at Phantom. "You!" He jerks back, breaking Phantom's grip on his arm.
He was robbed of ten years of his life. Of who he is. He lived through ten years not realizing what was going on around him. Accepting the shield and the destruction as normal! And it was a part of himself doing all of this! Making the shield necessary! Out having a joyride at everyone's expense!
He's so angry. Furious.
He can feel his eyes light up for a split second, and a flash of green sparking in his palms. "I'll destroy you!"
He doesn't run for the emergency ecto-gun in the garage.
He lunges at Phantom with his bare hands, palms repeatedly trying to glow, sparking for only an instant at a time, like an igniter without fuel to back it up.
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thinking about how vash could also be an antagonist (not villain. antagonist.) and still fit in the same narrative. by that i mean he would still be enemies with knives and at no point would they reconcile.
like its not even that deep if u know what i mean. u just need to shift the pov to that of pretty much anyone else. as much as his intentions are good he still involuntarily causes so much harm both to himself and others, and it's easy to see it as not being his fault at all since the conflict is always initiated by other characters. but it's exactly his extreme avoidance of it and unrelenting pacifism that causes him to be backed into a corner and to use undeadly but still severe violence in order to resolve these conflicts. sometimes this still causes the death of both his opponents and loved ones.
his altruism and peace & love attitude in the end are just façades and he uses to justify his inaction, this inaction is a coping mechanism for his fear and hatred for himself. he's not on a quest to radically change gunsmoke and improve the condition of its inhabitants, he's a vagabond who often finds himself in situations where he is forced to take action to preserve the life of innocent people.
im not saying he's an amoral or bad person, the opposite, but im still willing to say there's selfishness in his behaviour u know. he doesn't really face any of this directly until wolfwood kills zazie the beast. at this point he can't fully rationalise his conflict avoidance anymore, this time he can't find a clever exploit to get ahold of the situation back and save the day. had wolfwood not acted he and the others would not have escaped. i think this is further exacerbated with wolfwood's death soon after, which he obviously blames himself for, but imo it impacts him more than others because 1. as much as he's committed to protecting every life, obviously having his close friend die is more traumatic than the death of strangers, and 2. as opposed to rem's death, he knows wolfwood's could have been prevented, he had agency in the situation and was aware of the extreme danger.
this is why i see vash's killing of legato as a huge step in his growth. its what finally has him face conflict head first and take a significant step towards actual resolution instead of a patch up
vash deciding to take a life, his brother's life which he promised to rem to protect nonetheless, is what finally redeems him
thats way too many words ugh but basically this image
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