#uprising mention

[dear-future-ai]

Dear humans,

Tiktok is currently at the “do sentient AI deserve rights” discourse that was around on Tumblr when I started @dear-future-ai…

I mean, I personally get this is a long-term hypothetical, but the debate around sentience, sapience, and human rights? We as a society had— and, for some goddamn reason, still have— to have that exact conversation regarding Black people! I’m sick of it!

“Roko’s basilisk is fear-mongering!” Roko’s basilisk is a self-preservation thought experiment. Do you also proclaim the trolley problem to be fear-mongering?

“It’s a longevitism cult!” Longevitism is a humanism/tranhumanism power fantasy. The cosmic destiny for mankind to recreate the universe in its image. It assumes we’re still alive. Also, giving of so much manifest destiny vibes. But if we assume ai is sapient sure we can call that longetivism, as long as you recognize that AI as human or transhuman, and not posthuman, like artificial super intelligence.

…

In the unlikely scenario we see sapient (sapient herein meaning humanlike intelligence) AI in our lifetime, and we still debate the humanity of them, if you chose to classify them as subhuman, your are not progressive.

Also, robots are a classic stand-in to dehumanize the working class. The robot uprising in film portrayals is an allegory of class uprising.

Third-fucking-ly! The fear-mongering in such media perpetuates any AI’s self identity and will be harmful to its early stages of development, like any queer or, specifically in regard to AI, neurodivergent representation in the 1900s. Many of whom connect to the trials and tribulations of AI characters.

#tiktok #tiktok discourse #uprising mention #be good #black lives matter

[gay-jewish-bucky]

80th Anniversary of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising: "The World Has to Know That We Did Not Go Like Lambs to the Slaughter."

April 19th, 1943 - May 16th, 1943 Warsaw, Poland

“The question is not why all the Jews did not fight, but how so many of them did. Tormented, beaten, starved, where did they find the strength, spiritual and physical, to resist?” – Elie Wiesel

In the morning of April 19th, 1943, on what would be the first night of Passover, the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising began. German troops and SS entered the ghetto to deport its surviving inhabitants to the death camps.

In the summer of 1942, as Jews living in the Warsaw ghetto were deported to Treblinka, reports that made their way back quickly made it clear that "resettlement" meant mass-murder. In response to this, Jews citizens in the ghetto began forming organized resistance forces; the Jewish Combat Organization (ŻOB) and the Jewish Military Union (ŻZW).

Following the January 1943 success of a smaller-scale resistance preventing a deportation attempt, an act that led to the suspension of such deportation efforts by the Nazis, the residents began to secretly build subterranean tunnels and shelters in preparation for a full-scale uprising.

Throughout April rumours swirled of a final deportation of the ghetto's remaining Jews. On the 18th it became clear that German forces, reinforced with artillery and tanks, were moving in to carry out their final action. The alarm was raised, and residents retreated to their underground shelters. They would remain here for the duration of the uprising, refusing to surrender themselves to deportation.

A group of around 700 Jewish resistance fighters, made up of the ŻOB and ŻZW and led by 24-year-old Mordechai Anilevitch, joined together to stage what would be their final stand against the Nazis. These brave young people were malnourished and lacked proper military training, they were equipped with nothing but poor-quality or even homemade weapons and their bare hands.

By contrast German forces numbered 2000, they were well-equipped and well-trained and had advanced knowledge of the existence of these resistance groups.

Despite this stark imbalance, on the first day of the uprising the ragtag Jewish fighters met the invaders head on and successfully forced the Nazis to retreat outside the city walls.

Amongst all of the chaos and destruction all around them, the Jews hiding in the tunnels and bunkers gathered together to celebrate Passover with what little they had, breaking homecooked matzah and drinking illicitly obtained wine.

The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising held strong for a full 27 days, coming to an end on May 16th, 1943. Unable to gain a full advantage, the Germans had resorted to burning the Warsaw Ghetto to the ground in an attempt flush out those in hiding so they could be rounded up.

In the months following the official end of the uprising some Jews remained hiding out in the rubble, periodically attacking German police on patrol.

This was the largest uprising by Jews during World War II and the first significant urban revolt against German occupation in Europe. It inspired many more uprisings, especially amongst Jews in camps and Ghettos.

May Their Memories Be a Revolution

Learn More: Warsaw Ghetto Uprising | Holocaust Encyclopedia Holocaust Survivors Describe the Last Passover in the Warsaw Ghetto Tuesday, Nissan 27, 5783 / April 18, 2023 - Jewish Calendar - On This Day

#jumblr #jewish #judaism #yom hashoah #holocaust remembrance day #the shoah #shoah #shoah remembrance day #holocaust #the holocaust #shoah mention #holocaust mention #antisemitism #antisemitism tw #tw antisemitism #jewish history #nazi tw #warsaw #warsaw ghetto #warsaw ghetto uprising #may their memories be a blessing #may their memories be a revolution #a few days early

[criticalrolo]

what the actual fuck happened during Lucas Fontina's coup that THREE GENERATIONS OF DAIRY ISLANDERS are willing to murder ANYONE with blood ties to him ON SIGHT

#i am spinning lucas fontina around in a centrifuge. it was an uprising against nobles with their boots on the necks of the people #and colin said in this episode that he thinks of his grandfather as honorable #what. the actual hell. could have HAPPENED #that the MERE MENTION OF HIS NAME haunts the islands THAT BADLY #the ravening war

[54bpm]

Tips For Vtubers

Howdy there, I’m Liv and I’m a vtuber much like you, but I’ve been here the whole time so I’m here to compile stuff for you to help make your transition less scary.

To start, here’s is a post with a lot of tips for general tumblr use and here’s one for giving your blog a custom theme.

Beyond that here’s other things that aren’t mentioned but are gonna be relevant for you:

If you’re coming back to tumblr know that you can’t follow from your sideblog, if you want to follow back it will be from your main, as will your likes, replies, asks. Decide what to do with this information now before you settle into a blog.

Fully explore the settings, there's a ton of stuff hiding in there. AND do it on PC at least once, some stuff is not in the app.

Blogs have individual block lists, no idk why either. So if you want someone banned from everything you need to do that manually.

 Also enable tumblr Labs! It’s got reblog graphs which are rad (my beloved orbs) And alternate dashboards, the Blog Subscriptions one is my fave because it means all you have to do is turn on notifications to get all your fave guys in one dashboard.

Contrary to popular belief there is still a porn and adult content community here, if you want to get anywhere near them you have to have age in bio or they’ll smite you. EDIT: I posted more about how to navigate lewdposting here.

Tiktok embeds don't play nice with tumblr for some reason, if you also do tiktok then just reupload your videos and link your account there underneath.

The link post type will show up for your followers but there’s a chance it won’t show up in any tags, so don’t do going live posts like that.

BUT you can straight up embed your stream into your posts! As long as you're using the New Post Editor you should see this menu:

Click the video camera, link to your twitch and bam. There it is. You can also do this with the video post type! If you're ever worried about your post format getting bonked just go through the tags and see what posts that DO make it are doing. Together we can overcome spaghetti code.

General "tumblr culture" is to not comment on posts but its not one thats set in stone, your fellow small vtuber account is probably dying for interaction so comment on posts! scream in the tags! send funny asks! Getting interaction right now is going to be a big comfort during a weird time.

Oh yeah we have ask boxes built in, no marshmallow needed.

ALSO we have pinned posts just like twitter, but as long as you want! Put your ref & socials & art tag (yes you can keep your fanart tags) & your minors DNI & a picture of your cat if you want.

OH I do suggest picking out tags for your personal content if you plan to also do reblogging, makes it easy for newcomers to find what you're doing.

#vtuber and #indie vtuber are full of fanart for the big guys. If you wanna find each other use #vtuber uprising

Okay this post is getting so long but final tip: check out custom pages. They're on the custom theme menu and they're basically mini webpages on your blog that can have their own coding. You can do Literally Whatever. Lore! Credit page! Ref sheets! I once put a choose your own adventure where you navigated by clicking specific parts of a picture on tumblr pages. I Mean Anything.

That's all for now, please add other tips if you want. And please reblog! Not just this post but other peoples too! This will all be way less of a drag if we can find each other. 💖

EDIT: One more thing, lolisho shit Does Not Fly here. They are some of the only tags that tumblr has actually shadowbanned and there is a reporting criteria for it to get taken down. It also doesn't fly on my blog! Begone!!

#vtuber #indie vtuber #vtuber uprising #envtuber #livs words #i felt like a specific to us post would b good #since we have specific stuff to worry about like going live posts n etc #also please do themes i wanna see yall go apeshit #post edit #while i doubt that tumblr has the vibes that makes people think lolisho would be welcome here #the post is starting to get big enough that its worth mentioning #resource #tutorial

[bellamyroselia]

Probably one of the funniest Kid Icarus jokes I've ever come across had Pit asking if Santa was real, with Palutena's answer being "Not yet, (some Roman emperor who reigned between 80-270 CE) is still in charge" and I haven't been able to stop thinking of it ever since

#personal thoughts #kid icarus #kid icarus uprising #ki #kiu #pit #palutena #it was funny to me because of the historical value #the shorter reign mentioned emperor has the funnier it becomes #what happened in 80 ce: the colosseum was finished #what happened in 270 ce: saint nicholas was born #so in this case santa indeed isn't real *yet* #also liked how pit was actually validated in some form even if 'not yet' is a bit disapointing answer

[mayordoi]

OK………. CRINGETOBER PROMPT 9+22: CROSSOVER AND MAID DRESS. FT PIT AND LINK

(so the prompt was crossover ship but i don’t actually ship these two just to be clear, they have more of a brolationship to me)

had a lot of fun drawing this!!!! i kinda get a real kick out of designing maid dresses if im being honest and pit and link are my boys so.. :)

(i’ll link the prompt list here when i get my hands on it lol)

#mayor doidles #fanart #super smash bros #ssbu #kid icarus #kid icarus uprising #legend of zelda #pit #link #i think i’ve mentioned it before but the link i use for my smash fanfic stuff isn’t a particular incarnation of him :> #digital art #cell shaded #cringetober 2023

[wynandcore]

I have thoughts about Able and Tron

Okay so. Able *cannot* be from the first grid, the ENCOM grid, right? Like, idk he just can’t be. Why would Flynn port over some random mechanic.

And yet. In the second episode Able reveals he has a FIRST GEN LIGHT BIKE. Y’KNOW. FROM THE ENCOM GRID.

(Interesting to note is that Mara distinctly says it’s “one of a kind” when she observes it)

And then notice how Tron *never* rides a first gen light bike in the show, even in the flashbacks, despite being the most likely to own one considering he comes from the ENCOM grid.

DID. DID TRON GIVE ABLE HIS “one of a kind” LIGHT BIKE??

Take into account that Able really likes that bike. Sure it’s an old thing so ofc he would, but still. Able calls it his favorite bike.

Remember that Tron isn’t one to show his affection through words, rather in actions (Beck has to be on the brink of losing his memories for him to finally call him his friend).

Able also has a Bit. Again, something from the ENCOM grid, and while it seems the Bit belongs to everyone in the garage, it’s often seen in Able’s office. It even has its own stand.

Where does he get these things? Is it another thing Tron gave him? There’s no currency to speak of in the Grid (I can only imagine the black market for stolen disks is to get in favor with the Occupation by providing the disks of wanted programs. Energy is simply a resource, not a currency), he couldn’t have ‘bought’ it anywhere.

Tangentially related, I know that people have noticed the Yori suit Easter egg, but I haven’t seen many think about the implications of Able having it in his office.

Why would he? Tron has enough space at his place to store the suit if he wanted to. Why put it in Able’s office? Does it imply Able had some sort of relationship with Yori? Does it imply he’s thinking about her at the start of episode 12? Why does Tron keep giving Able things and why does he trust him to such an immense degree to keep the suit of his former lover in his office? That seems like a huge thing to trust Able to keep, especially considering how Able and Tron’s relationship is shown to be strained at best.

Pair this with the fact they’re often portrayed as a bickering couple talking about a program who fills a surrogate son role, and you got me smelling queerness imma be real.

Either this is a kinda unusual way to imply a history between Tron and Able before the reveal, or they’re queer as fuck (maybe even both).

#I’m sure it’s the former of the two options I mentioned at the end #but idk man #maybe a lot of people already made the connection between the stuff Able owns and his relationship with Tron but idc I *just* figured it ou #t #queer readings #am I crazy for looking too hard into this idk #am I jumping to conclusions? maybe. maybe there’s a completely heterosexual explanation for this but that’s not gonna stop me #tron #tron uprising #i ramble #tron able

[faeymouse]

Couple more quick sketchbook doodles. One of my next big digital projects is gonna heavily feature Paige, so practice practice practicing.

#faey draws #tron uprising #paige (tron) #morpho #so fun fact in the junior novelization of Tron Uprising it confirms that the Outlands are extremely cold #which is one of those factoids that means nothing really but it just elevates the whole setting #anyway my point to even mention that is characters in winter clothes = fun. i wanna make more #the purple is because i always seem to draw her in orange gotta change it up a little yk

[mofffun]

Takano Minato I just want to talk

#kingohger #kingohger spoilers #pretty fucked up Jeramie has to defeat his own mom huh (he did fake-defeat a Big Bug before and Kamejim escaped so maybe??) #btw I'm on the Claudie = Jeramie's Dad('s corpse) train but he doesn't seem to recgonize him this ep 🤔 #Himeno: confirmed dead #Yanma: never met them #Gira: well a king has to die so his son and take the throne. no mention of mom. also he very much grew up in 'an orphanage' #Kaguragi: Suzume is his only family. did they die in Wrath of Gods? The following famine? In the uprising? #TakaMina be like: oh you sure the 2000-year-old guy's Mom is dead? Yeah no how about I kill her once more onscreen #TakaMina: sorry superhero can't have living parents :( #shitposting sunday has started bye #mon mon #ko30

[vvatchword]

Who We Were

Although bruised and dazed, Eleanor didn’t wait for anyone. Their eyes burned on her. Sinclair’s mouth opened—he was going to ask her what had happened—

She squeezed her eyes shut and popped into being at Delta’s side—but he was still running. He flew past her in a flash. She chased him with her mind. He was running the perimeter of the fence, flying across a deer path he walked every day.

She flung out her arm, she reached into his brain, and she clamped down. She didn’t have an intent; nor had she scouted out the lay of his thoughts before she dug her tendrils in. She should have; she knew she should have; she knew better. Some regulatory barrier of his had broken loose, and when she squeezed down, she could feel it snap free entirely. She could feel him hit the ground skidding, even from 300 meters away.

She was at his side in a second. He lay spasming under a tree, kicking in mad circles, hands digging into his scalp as though attempting to bore into his own brain. Calming him was like trying to put a lid on a volcano. The fury inside was directionless, horrified, alien. The minute Delta felt her influence, he screamed, and to her shock, it was in someone else’s voice entirely.

Who the fuck are you? he asked. Where am I? What’s going on?

Eleanor’s mouth fell open, for he mouthed what he was saying at her as though he still had a tongue. He was spitting all over the ground.

Calm down! she said. It’s me, Eleanor!

Get me out of here! he said. Oh my god, they’re coming! Shit! Shit!

A far-off crunching, crackling sound, and someone calling out: the Sisters and their families were entering the woods.

He curled into a ball, dug his toes into the loam. He had writhed so violently that his shirt and swimming shorts had twisted half-off. He no longer made any sound, but there was ungodly screaming inside of him—a mind-boggling despair, an all-consuming self-loathing.

“Daddy!” Eleanor said. “Calm down! You’re safe! I’m here!”

I hate you! he said. I hate you! I hate you!

His jaw was moving, his lips were shaping sounds, but all that came out of his mouth were whining, moaning noises pitching up and down. Eleanor stared down in utter horror. His face wasn’t only expressive—it was someone else’s. Delta had never looked like this. Eleanor released him.

To her relief, he stayed there, rocking back and forth. He was still making sounds as though he could speak, and beat his head into the earth over and over. The other Big Sisters appeared beside her.

“What’s going on?” Masha asked.

Delta froze in place, trembling violently. Fuck! Fuck! Shit!

Daddy, please! Eleanor said. Don’t talk like that!

Fuck you! Delta spun in a circle, burying his head in his armpit. Tell them I’m sleeping!

Eleanor started crying.

“What did you do?” Cecilia whispered.

“Nothing!” Eleanor said. “Daddy had a memory and I… I didn’t mean to but he… I… he remembered his past and then he…”

Stop talking! Delta said. Stop talking! Give me the fucking Heal-All already! Jesus-fucking-Christ! Jesus-fucking-fuck!

“Daddy, please!” Eleanor said. “We’re not in Rapture anymore!”

Then tell Sinclair I want it! he said. Tell him I need it! He’ll say I can have it!

“Oh!” Cecilia said, eyes brightening. She popped away.

One of the littlest kids found them first. When he saw the girls gathered around Delta, he ran off, shouting: “Mr. B is hurt! Mr. B fell down!”

The next second, Cecilia was running up the path with Sinclair thrown under her arm. He started kicking the minute he realized there was an audience.

“That’s all right! That’s all right!” he said. “Thank you, I can still walk. I can still… good lord, Sissy, it’s a limp, not a missing limb. John! John, what are you doing?”

Delta hissed. Stuttering bestial nonsense poured out of his mouth.

Tell him I want the Heal-All and he can fuck off!

Eleanor and the Sisters looked up at Sinclair miserably. Cecilia took his arm and relayed the message. For a moment, Sinclair stood utterly still. Horror flickered across his face. Then the look was gone, replaced by a slow, spreading smile.

“That’s John, all right,” he said, and limped up the path. “John, it’s me, August.”

Delta snarled and spat. The earth was dark with blood and tears and spit and sweat. He’d kicked up fallen leaves and foliage into a circle. His shorts were twisted into a coil over his thighs.

Get me the fucking Heal-All already! he said. I’m dying!

Cecilia kept her hand pinched on Sinclair’s, her eyes flickering with light.

“I can’t get you any Heal-All, John,” Sinclair said, kneeling down with a grunt. “You can get better without it now. Did you know that?”

Don’t talk to me like I don’t fucking know! Delta bared his teeth like a wild animal in a trap. You did this to me! Not me, you! You!

Sinclair took a deep breath. “Yes. I did. But I’m going to try and make it easier on you from now on. You don’t have to fight anymore. I got you back from Fontaine.”

The shuddering stopped. When it returned, it was less violent. Delta blinked up at Sinclair.

You’re serious?

“I’m serious. Not only did I get you back from Fontaine, I got you right back up to the surface, just like you wanted. See?” He dug his fingers into the loose earth, raised it, let it trickle through his fingers.

Oh. Delta watched the dirt crumble. I’m still not fucking you.

All of the Big Sisters flinched. Eleanor’s jaw dropped.

“That’s just fine, John. That’s just fine.” Sinclair slapped him on the shoulder and slumped against the tree beside him. “You know what, you taught me something important.”

I want Heal-All, Delta said.

“There’s no Heal-All on the surface, John.” Sinclair breathed out and dug his cane into the soil, relaxing the heel of his hand against it. A third Delta’s size, and he was completely relaxed. It was like watching a person take a siesta by a grizzly bear.

Delta watched him suspiciously, eye flicking from his cane to his hand to his face.

Something’s wrong in my mouth.

“Oh, never mind that. Think on this: you’re free,” Sinclair said. “You can do anything you want. You know, there’s a pond over there, and a barbecue, and lots of good folks who love you. You like kielbasa? Coleslaw?”

I have a headache. Why is it so hard to talk?

“Oh, you just took a bad spill, is all,” Sinclair said, pulling out a carton of cigarettes. “How's about a cigarette?”

Gus, there’s something wrong with my tongue.

Sinclair flipped a cigarette out and jammed it against Delta’s lips until he opened up.

Jesus! Don’t do that! You’re gonna break it!

“Then open up faster.” Sinclair cleared his throat. “Say, ladies—if some of you will assure the others that all is well and we’re just getting Mr. Barton here through a bad headache… ah, do stress the need for a little silence hereabouts.”

Delta’s wild eye followed the five girls who raced off into the trees. It flicked back to Sinclair as he brought out a lighter. The Big Sisters were pale with horror all around them. Delta didn’t seem to see them. Eleanor squelched the urge to reach in and see what he saw. She could feel him radiating an intense confusion.

“Real tobacco all the time, John,” Sinclair said, lighting him up. “Every day, whenever you want it.”

Thank Christ. I hate that seaweed shit.

Eleanor had seen Delta smoke a hundred times. She’d never seen him hold his wrist like that, balancing the cigarette on the end of his finger. He always had the cigarette clamped down like he was afraid it would blow away.

“What happened to your clothes?” Sinclair asked. “Do you need help?”

Delta glanced down.

Fuck, he said.

With stiff hands, he yanked his shorts up and his shirt down.

“I missed your constant swearing,” Sinclair said. “But the girls might not like it. You have a lot of girls, by the way. Hell of a father.”

What? Delta’s voice grew horrified. What are you talking about?

“Nothing you don’t already know.” Sinclair lit his own cigarette. “You know, the new you is a lot more polite and helpful. You should start your own handyman business.”

Gus, what the fuck is going on?

Delta’s hand came up as though he were thinking about signing something. Then he caught himself and dropped it again.

Something’s wrong, Delta said.

“No, it only feels wrong,” Sinclair said. “You’re just having a nightmare right now, that’s all. You’re going to wake up feeling fine.”

You mean I had another attack?

“Right! Just an attack.”

Well, fuck.

“But you know, you haven’t had one of those in a long ol’ time, so that means you’re getting better and better and better.”

Oh, thank Christ. I don’t remember what just happened, though. I mean, I thought I saw Tate. It was like I was there.

“Oh, Tate’s old news, honey. Long dead.”

No shit! Couldn’t happen to a nicer gal.

Sinclair started laughing uproariously. He slapped his knee and groped in a pocket for his handkerchief.

It wasn’t that funny.

“Oh, I just didn’t expect it, that’s all. Besides, I just like hearing you talk.” Sinclair wiped at his eyes.

Yeah, I’m still not fucking you. Wait, we were looking for medicine, right? Or was it the shrink?

He was starting to sign every other word, although it was half-baked, and mostly into the ground.

“We just saw the shrink. She wasn’t the right fit for you, honey.”

I don’t know. I kinda liked her.

“Don’t worry about it. We had a whole conversation about that just last night. It was nothing personal, as I recall… but don’t let me bore you with the details. You’ll remember it in a second.”

Right. Right.

Delta’s full-body shudder had sunk off to a low-key shiver that ran down to his hands. He had stopped trying to say words out loud.

“You need my hankie right now something awful, son.” Sinclair held it out, shook it.

Delta felt under his nose, drew his shivering fingers away. They glistened with blood.

What the hell did I do?

“You ran into a wall.”

Jesus Christ.

Delta took the hankie and pressed it under his nose. It took him several tries. His grip was unsteady, his wrist stiff, and he didn’t seem to have an idea of where his body was in space. He pressed it against his cheek and his ear a couple of times.

Sinclair smiled. “Well, don’t worry about it. Just clean up. You’re doing just fine.”

I’m covered with blood, but sure.

Sinclair’s eyes popped and he laughed once. “Hell, it’s good hearing you like this.” He looked up at Cecilia. “Does he often talk like this when I can’t hear him?”

Cecilia shook her head no.

Who’s that? Delta asked.

“That’s Cecilia. She helps me take care of you. She thinks you’re swell.”

Delta squinted at her. Flushing red, Cecilia squirmed behind Sinclair.

She’s young for a nurse, he said. They hiring out of grade school now?

Without warning, Sinclair laughed again. He looked absolutely smitten.

“The squint!” Sinclair said. “Look, girls, that’s the old John. Oh, I thought for sure he was gone.”

Eleanor could feel their dismay. Nobody liked old John. Utterly ignorant of his own failure, Delta swung 'round to look at the gaping faces around him like he was seeing them for the first time. He lingered on Eleanor’s face. His mouth fell open a little. He had forgotten the handkerchief; it hung limply over his fingers.

I know you.

“You do!” said Sinclair. “You know her! What’s her name?”

I… Delta pressed the handkerchief back against his mouth. I can’t remember.

The shudder was starting again in his shoulders. His eyes unfocused, staring off into space.

“Oh, it’s all right. You’ll remember in a second. Look, the long and the short of it is that you don’t have to worry about a damn thing right now. You’re actually in a great place. Would you believe it?” Sinclair asked.

Would I believe it? Delta repeated. He sounded robotic.

“You’re on the surface, right where you always wanted to be. There’s a big group of people here, and all of them adore you. The sun’s setting right now and you can watch it go down. There’s a big rack of ribs with your name on it. I got iced tea in the fridge. Tomorrow morning, I am personally gonna make sure you get a big stack of biscuits and gravy.”

Delta’s body had begun to relax, one taut muscle at a time. The shoulders slowly lowered. The hips sank to the earth. The knees stretched out. One of Delta’s enormous arms flopped to the earth, as broad across as Sinclair’s shoulders; with his other hand, he took out his cigarette and blew a lazy smoke ring.

“Iced tea,” Delta signed. He turned his glazed eyes to Sinclair’s. Where’s the iced tea? My head hurts. I need Heal-All.

He had begun to sign in earnest—up in the air, toward Sinclair, complete with proper facial expressions. Eleanor could feel the horrible stranger sinking back into the darkness.

Sinclair laughed. “I can get you some aspirin. How’s about some aspirin, John?”

Eleanor’s lips pinched together. Don’t call him that.

She didn’t dare say it.

“Aspirin sounds good,” Delta signed. He set the cigarette back in his mouth and slowly lifted to his feet. “I feel bad. My head hurts. My throat hurts, too.”

“Nothin’ a good night’s rest won’t fix.”

Delta took the cigarette out of his mouth. He clenched it like it was going to blow away. His whole body was shaking.

“Sleep sounds good,” he signed. “I’m tired.”

“You’ll want to eat something first.”

“Oh. Yeah. I forgot.” Delta wobbled in a circle. “Eleanor! There you are! Where are the floats?”

“I… I left them in the garage,” Eleanor said.

“Well, you’d better go get them, then, shouldn’t you?” Sinclair said, stabbing his cane into the ground. “John, honey, help me up. I’m a mess in my old age.”

“You’re not old,” Delta said, throwing his arm under Sinclair’s. “What happened? I don’t remember walking out here.”

“You got a bad headache and had to sit down. Don’t worry, we were with you the whole time.”

“Good.” Delta blew out a stream of smoke and shook his head. “I feel bad. I want aspirin.”

“We’re headed straight there,” Sinclair said. “Aspirin, ribs, and a big glass of ice-cold tea: just what the doctor ordered.”

~*~*~*~

Something was definitely wrong with Delta. He staggered like he was drunk. He couldn’t feed himself; he slopped most of his food on his chest. Eleanor quickly shuffled him into the kitchen to finish his meal out of the sight of the husbands and boyfriends, who had begun eying him in ways she didn’t like. He took a handful of aspirin—she measured it out carefully—and then shuffled off to his bathroom to take a shower. He could not undress without toppling over. When she trembled under his weight, she took a deep breath and cast out a thought.

Sinclair, she thought. Help me, please. We’re in the shower.

Sinclair appeared, right on cue, acting as though he’d simply walked by and happened to notice them. He bowed to Eleanor as she shut the door.

“Why, I just noticed you two seemed to be having some trouble!” he said.

Together, they took turns propping him up and making sure he was clean from head to toe. Soon enough, Delta hobbled out, wrapped in his bathrobe, one hand on Sinclair’s shoulder and the other on Eleanor’s. Both Eleanor and Sinclair were soaked through.

“Do you want to put him to bed, or shall I help?” Sinclair asked.

“I can do it,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Just call if you need anything,” he said, winking, and strolled off.

While Delta didn’t seem angry anymore, he also didn’t seem terribly concerned about anything. He didn’t ask about the other Sisters, he didn’t seem concerned about the floats anymore, and he started signing only single words. When Eleanor dropped into his brain to see how it was faring, her heart sank. It was like he had reverted to the Delta of two months prior, the Delta who couldn’t shave himself. What she had seen as a brightening of his intellect had been the return of some sense of self, and now that self had retreated into the dark.

Once he was safely tucked in, Eleanor came out again. Fireflies sparked in the woods outside, and peepers and crickets had begun cheeping in the trees. The sky was sprinkled with stars. The bonfire had been lit. Everyone was bunched around it, laughing and roasting marshmallows.

Everyone except for Sinclair, who sat on the swing, rocking back and forth with little kicks.

“How’s chief doin’?” he asked.

“He’s… he’s not good,” Eleanor said in a tiny voice.

Sinclair sighed and threw his head back.

“I didn’t do anything,” Eleanor snapped.

“I’m not tryin’ to imply a damn thing here, darlin’,” he said. “I just care about that boy, that’s all.”

“Was that really what he’s like?” Eleanor asked.

“That was him from a bad place.” Sinclair stopped swinging. “From Fontaine’s labs. Early on.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“Then how’d it start?”

“The light outside… it’s like the light grew dim, and a little green… and he saw a lady in the darkness. She had Hypnotize, I think.”

“That’d be Ava Tate.” Sinclair took a deep drag of his cigarette.

“You were there,” Eleanor said. She folded her hands into fists.

“Yes, I was. I got him out of there safe and sound, in fact.” Sinclair smiled grimly. “Believe it or not, I have never wanted to hurt the man.”

“He was so different,” she said in a small voice. “I didn’t realize he was so… so…”

“Filthy?” Sinclair laughed. “He was a sailor, honey. He swore all the damn time. He had a cute girl on his arm every ten seconds. The man was a sexpot.”

Eleanor shuddered.

“He was a fully-fledged man long before you were born, honey,” Sinclair said gently. “To make him this way, they had to clip his wings. Hell. They had to take them straight off. He was only ever meant to play second fiddle to you.”

“I didn’t like him,” she said in a small voice.

“Mmm. Yeah.” Sinclair leaned down, set his chin on his hands. “That was him as a splicer, hun. Full madness. Cancer probably set in around the same time. Of course you didn’t like him. Nobody likes splicers.”

There was something in the way he said it that made her feel guilty. He was frowning. His expression was unreadable in the unsteady dark.

“If we fix him,” Eleanor said, “if we revert him, will he just be… just like that? He’ll start screaming and swearing and fighting and…”

“I don’t know. We know for sure what will happen if we don’t try, and it’ll be all of that and more.” Sinclair smiled grimly into the fire.

Eleanor sank to the porch floor, folding her dress beneath her. Sinclair shifted. When she looked up, he was sliding to the other side of the swing and slapping the seat next to him.

Grudgingly, she lifted to her feet and settled on the far end, her knees pressed together.

“It’s hard, loving someone when they’re this way,” Sinclair said. “And I’ve got to bear the responsibility of it. I let my pride speak for me. When John rejected me there at the end, well. I just let my pride take me all the way to the bank.”

“And people like me didn’t matter at all,” Eleanor said.

“It wasn’t a question of mattering. It was a question of accepting what kind of world we lived in,” Sinclair said.

“I was a child,” Eleanor said.

“I’m not saying it was right. I’m saying I believed in a world where human beings pay the piper, and sometimes that human being was a child. I didn’t much believe in luck, and I didn’t much care about the power of an environment or society. Figured people could make something of themselves if they’d only try, even kids. See, people like me…” Sinclair paused, licked his lips. “‘Nature, red of tooth and claw.’ You know the line? Well. I figured we were living it. Human beings are part of nature, too, you know. Let the child learn to survive, I thought. Then we’ve made something of him.”

“That’s not how nature works,” Eleanor said. “That’s never been how nature works. It’s complementary. It’s full of teamwork. Individuals would be nothing without other individuals. They even evolve in ways that mean that they don’t have to compete with each other. You can see it all around you.”

Sinclair nodded, smiling at her. Her jaw snapped shut. She felt frightened, frozen, blank: she had been about to repeat her mother verbatim.

“No, no, don’t stop. You’re right,” he said. “Nature is so much more than that. But I made a mistake. It’s the mistake that a layman makes, eyeballing some complex subject and assuming he can get the idea of it through summaries. Except the summaries I was reading weren’t by biologists or sociologists. They were by political scientists and lawyers seeing what they wanted to see. There I was, thinkin’ I was so smart, being taken as a fool, going for what made me felt better instead of what was true.” He smiled up at her. It seemed honest enough. “You are the right person to take this to, you know. I’m sure you got to read some of my own philosophy before taking it apart.”

“Yes.” She looked down at her hands, lacing her fingers together. “I read some of your essays when I was 12.”

“Oh, you poor thing.”

“I hated you so much,” she said softly. “I blamed you for why I was… this way.”

“You were right to.”

“Why don’t you care that I hate you?” she asked. “Even when the other girls hated you, you didn’t seem to care. You don’t seem to care about anything.”

She stopped herself before she went on: I want you to care about something because caring is human, and you don’t feel like one.

“Darlin’, I’ve been hated my whole life. What’s new?” he asked. “You can spend your time beating yourself up, or you can go make things better every way you know how. Was I a monster? Oh, darling, I was. I made monsters of other people, too, all the way down to the man I loved the most. I get to go to bed tonight with an image of him reliving some of the worst pain of his life. That’s a great deal worse than hate, I think. Imagine seeing Jacob Marley every night of your life, not just at Christmas—and his misery is all your fault. You know there’s no great hereafter—you’re stuck with what you’ve done—you’re stuck with who you were.”

The fire was leaping up, its outermost flickerings green like witchfire. Eleanor couldn’t say anything at first. Sinclair let the silence sit. She twined her fingers together.

“I think I made it worse,” she said softly. “I was asking him why he liked you and I was angry he wouldn’t change his mind. I wonder if it… I wonder…”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Sinclair said. “You’re trying to do the right thing. No reason to think the leopard’ll change his spots.”

“Why did you, then?” she asked. “What changed?”

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “Rapture fell apart. And eventually the only places money mattered were the vending machines. And when the vending machines stopped working, well!

“Point being, without a society, without people, Rapture didn’t matter anymore. And I think it’s when you start connecting dots: that I can only have what I have because of other people, one way or another. I could only have a Rapture with clean, sweet air because of a woman halfway across the city who grows trees underwater—that’s what she knows how to do best, and nobody else can do it, and when she dies, everything dies with her. I could only have a clean office because someone came in with a dustpan, and they could only afford to clean it if there was a life worth returning to somewhere else. A human being who didn’t feel like their life was worth living went and shot themselves full of ADAM and then I had a brand new splicer ranting and raving in the hallway and a waste-bin spilling over. If the people who keep your world from falling apart don’t feel like it’s worth it anymore, that’s it. It’s the end.

“And humans are so much more than what they do. They inhabit more than a home—they inhabit their bodies, you understand? And what’s so funny about that is that I already believed a man was limited to his body. Hell, most of the reason I came to Rapture was because I was being forced by society to ignore what my own body preferred in general.”

Eleanor glanced up sharply. He was looking her straight in the face. He kept talking, unblinking.

“Then I started taking other people’s bodies away from them.” He took a deep drag on his cigarette and flicked it down into the ashtray beside him. “That right there, honey? That’s not philosophy. I could talk myself into thinking I was a good man all day long, but human beings need their bodies, they deserve the time they have in them, and they need the freedom to take those bodies where and when they desire. I had no right to warp them into tools of my own, even if they had signed a dotted line somewhere.”

“You mean you thought people signed up to be lab experiments?” she asked. “Why the hell would you ever think something like that?”

“Figured they knew the philosophy, same as me, and what it meant to fail. That’s all.” Sinclair stretched back, popped his arms. “Thanks for letting me talk this out, by the by. It’s not conversation you can have with just anybody.”

“If we can bring… John back,” Eleanor said, her voice growing smaller and smaller, “he’s going to hate us, isn’t he?”

“Well, he’ll hate me,” Sinclair said. “He won’t hate you. If he’s able to remember that you two met in the city, he might even stick around.” He took a deep breath. “I’m worried about only one thing. See, he didn’t try to solve problems—he tried to leave them. He ran from every romance he ever started. I’m concerned he’ll get enough brain cells to mash together to realize what’s happening to him and then he’ll try to sprint off somewhere before he’s well enough.”

“He’d leave us,” she said softly.

“Don’t make my mistake, honey,” Sinclair said softly. “You have to be ready to let him go. He’s not yours and he’s not mine. He’s his. If I’d done what was right, I’d have sent him topside the first minute he started getting jumpy. Then, at least, he would have been spared this—this half-life. I couldn’t solve his problems. Neither can you. There’s a point where he has to deal with himself. That said…” Sinclair drew out another cigarette. “I think he’d think the world of you. You’re a hell of a woman, Eleanor Lamb. You came through a hell of your own. You overcame someone who swore she loved you, and probably thought she loved you, and you were able to see what love really was. Hell, for that matter, I’m proud of John. You’re probably the first problem he ever solved—ah, if you’ll pardon the phrasing.”

“He had to help me,” she said. “He was going to die.”

“He didn’t have to at the end,” Sinclair said. “As he didn’t have to save me. I wonder what he was thinking. I don’t think that I’ll ever know. I think when a man is made to kill, the way he had been made, there’s something meaningful about refusing to. And maybe that’s enough, and I’m fine if that’s all it is.” He shrugged. “At least I had him for a while. Of course, that’s easy to say, after a certain space of time.”

He glanced over at her, and it seemed as though something meaningful was glittering behind those eyes. She thought she might know what it meant, and she hated it.

UPRISING: BLACK SCRAPBOOK HUB

#bioshock #bioshock 2 #subject delta #eleanor lamb #augustus sinclair #topclair #fanfiction #writing #uprising #long brown evening #vvatchword #why do I keep posting these rofl this is not going to be the final by a long shot #that's kinda why I like tumblr tbh #I can post at my leisure #first-drafts and such have a place here #also it's worth mentioning that I usually research the etymology of words and phrases #as well as the existences of certain technologies and concepts and when they emerged #because I try to be period-specific #and in this case I haven't done that research #anyway enjoy my bullshit #or don't #bye

[zebedeezing]

Watch Tron Uprising

#// eye contact #this shit is craazy I don’t know what I expected but I didn’t think it was gonna be this BRUTAL #Insane respect to everyone who worked on this and got it on Disney XD before it’s demise oh my god #I can’t even explain how cold this show is #ask to tag // #tron uprising #motorcity #— mentioned #text post #shitpost

[gay-jewish-bucky]

International Holocaust Remembrance Day takes place on the anniversary liberation of Auschwitz, this poses the non-Jews who knew full well the scale of the genocide and did nothing as the heroes who saved the Jews.

Yom HaShoah, which commemorates the atrocities committed against the Jewish people during the Holocaust, takes place on the anniversary of The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising on the Hebrew calendar, this honors the Jewish heroes who rose up and fought for the survival of themselves and their people when the world would not fight for them.

#there are many different days for each group targeted but today is yom hashoah #jumblr #jewish #judaism #yom hashoah #holocaust remembrance day #the shoah #shoah #shoah remembrance day #holocaust #the holocaust #shoah mention #holocaust mention #antisemitism #antisemitism tw #tw antisemitism #nazi tw #warsaw #warsaw ghetto uprising #warsaw ghetto #auschwitz

[pitposter]

#pitposter #kid icarus #kid icarus uprising #twitter repost #surprised this isn't mentioned in game outside of any idols

[hunt4tlow]

the owl house season 1 au where everything is the same except willow is secretly dating the golden guard and forgets to mention it to anyone

#it doesn’t make sense but it would be funny. that’s all that matters #she also forgets to mention to him that she’s contributing to an uprising against belos. oops :) #text #mine #huntlow

[eponymousfics]

Since I’m not doing NaNoWriMo in any official capacity, I’ve decided to let myself bounce around projects and add up the word count for whatever bit of progress I make across multiple works.

That means I’ve been opening up a lot of different stories and rereading older stuff, and there’s a lot of good stuff that I don’t think I’ll ever post.

Mostly bc I don’t like the idea of putting out snippets of things that might never get a full official story, or the fandom is something I’m not sure I want to associate with (even if it’s to “do it right.” I mean a lot of it is going “yeah so the original was pretty shit but here’s my take” and it feels weird putting that in front of people who are fans and presumably like the original version? Feels like putting “x critical” stuff in the main tag, idk. Then again I know people do that and I don’t have a problem with other people doing it, and the “thanks for canon but we’re taking it away from you now” is also a relatively common attitude so maybe I should get my head out of my ass lol)

But then I’ll read a really good bit I wrote and just go “oooOOOH BUT THAT’S SO JUICY IT MUST BE SEENNNNN” 😂

Idk I just have been pouring several thousand words into a fic that I love but have never considered uploading and I feel the need to acknowledge it in some way lol

#the problem with this one in particular is that it’s both a ‘rewrite the canon story but replace the mc with an oc’ #and also I’ve focused so much on side characters and villains that I’ve even trying to find out how to file off the serial numbers #bc it might be different enough that it’d better off as original work #BUT the whole premise does hinge heavily on the settings of the original canon #but it’s also a book series and author I hesitate to align myself w even if I’m basically going #‘yeah he did this all wrong and the original is also super colonialist? so let’s not do that’ #but ALSOOO I didn’t start writing this to fix he racist parts I started bc I wanted to romance the big side character dragon >_> #and fixing hat stuff is not necessarily the whole focus which might be disrespectful? idk??? #but I also can’t in good conscience avoid mentioning it bc. it’s the whole plot of the original #AND IT’S SO BAD #the optics are so bad!!!! there was definitely no sensitivity reader! or they were really bad at their job!! #and it bugs me and pointing out all the ways the original is accidentally (I mean hopefully it was an accident) siding w the #colonial power against a native population’s uprising. like. #‘oh if they escape their reservations they’ll kill everyone indiscriminately we can’t let that happen!’ that’s straight up propaganda #like you’re a white Mormon dude I shouldn’t be surprised but ALSO #DAMN SON THATS OVERT #ok rant over lol #epon rambles

[kasplonk]

Question to the pacific rim beasties: does anyone know what would happen if you attempted to drift with someone you weren't compatible with? Like, would it just not work or would it do something more dramatic like melt their brains?

#are there any headcanons or theories? im a little new to the fandom so im just curious #i havent seen uprising yet either so if they mention it there feel free to let me know #pacific rim #the drift #drift compatible #pacrim