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probablyjustturtle · 4 months

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I would absolutely love it is DreamWorks would do a special focused on Branch trying to propose to Poppy.

Here I'll write the plot for you. It's long brace yourself.

I imagine this takes place like 6 months or so after Band Together.

Life after TBT is going well.

Branch cleared out some rooms for his brothers to stay in when they need it. Floyd is somewhat of a permanent resident, anxious about leaving Branch to live on his own again.

John Dory built a garage of sorts near Branch's bunker for Rhonda so she has a cozy shelter to relax in. JD switches between sleeping with Rhonda and sleeping in Branch's bunker.

Clay built a pod between Viva and Poppy's and the bunker.

Bruce visits every now and then, understandably, he has like 13 kids. When he does come into town they brothers all stay in Branch's bunker to hang out and have bro time.

Floyd notices Branch being extra anxious for some reason. He can't figure out why and whenever he asks Branch, Branch always deflects the conversation away. So Floyd naturally got really worried. After the Branch told them everything that happened in the past 20 years, he was worried there was something else he was keeping from his brothers.

Floyd went to JD and Clay asking if they've noticed something's up. Viva (she was hanging around Clay's pod and inserted herself into the conversation) mentions that she's noticed Branch has been nervous around Poppy lately.

That's weird? Why would he be nervous around his girlfriend and best friend?

They decided to bring it up to Branch. Of course, they do not get a straight answer, he acts defensive, deflecting the conversation and fidgeting with something behind his back before running away.

The brothers assume the worst. The next time Bruce comes into town he's debriefed on what's going on with their little brother. They come to the conclusion that Branch needs a break from Poppy but he's too nice to tell her that himself, they decide to 'help' him.

Branch and Poppy are sitting in a clearing on a romantic picnic. Having their usual conversations, Branch looks like he gets the courage to tell Poppy something, but before he can, JD jumps in, claiming Bruce set the kitchen on fire again, he grabs Branch and pulls him away from the picnic.

Over the course of the week, this happens with each brother.

Stargazing in a tree? Clay lectures them about the dangers of sitting so high above the ground.

Taking a nice walk through the forest by the river? Bruce brought pictures of his kids he wants to show you!

Candle lit dinner in the bunker? Floyd found a family album in Grandma's old pod, who wants to see baby pictures of everyone?

Branch finally decided his brothers are a problem. Every night he's been formulating 'perfect plans' to propose to Poppy. Each one ruined by his brothers. There's no telling which one will show up so he decides to ensure they are all busy when he takes Poppy on a date.

He even went as far as taking Rhonda out for a walk after the rain and let her roll around in mud.

John Dory was busy giving Rhonda a bath, Clay was asked to look over all the safety features on Branch's security system and looking for improvements, Floyd was asked to take over storytime with the young trolls for Poppy, and Bruce was asked to help organize one of the common troll parties with the snack pack. They were all busy. Perfect.

Branch decided to take Poppy out for another stroll, this was the one. The weather was pleasant, not too hot, not too chilly. Perfect. His brothers were occupied, their friends were occupied. It was just him and his soon-to-be fiance. The one thing he didn't account for?

Viva.

Viva found them, grabbing Poppy and shouting about a new juice stand that just popped up and that she would just die if she couldn't try it with her dear sister. And Branch was left alone. His girlfriend shouted an apology over her shoulder as she was dragged away by her sister.

His brothers returned to the bunker after all their activities to find Branch nowhere to be seen. They called for him and split up to look around the bunker for their brother.

Floyd found him in a small backroom near his bedroom, slumped over a writing desk, head on his arm, staring at something in his other paw. All around the desk and on the floor lay many crumpled papers. Some in balls, some haphazardly thrown near the trash can. But all over. Floyd picked one up. A messy on of the plans his brother was famous for making was drawn on the page. Floyd picked up another, the same subject on the page but different method. Floyd finally pieced everything together. He called to his younger brother. Branch picked his head up with a sniffle, tear tracks clear on his face and in his paw, a ring box. An engagement ring box.

Floyd looked sadly at his brother before walking over and hugging him. Branch resting his head into his brother's shoulder. Letting himself cry a bit more.

(next bit is a bit of dialogue I had in mind for this scene)

"Floyd, did you find him?!" They heard Bruce call from down the hall just as his face appeared in the doorway. "He's in here guys!" He called to his other brothers. His smile quickly fell as he looked at the state of the room and his younger brother. His gaze softens as he makes his way over to Branch and Floyd.

"Branch!" Shouted Clay and John Dory at seeing the troll they were looking for, before they had the same reaction to seeing their brother's state.

Bruce was the first to kneel to look Branch in the eyes. "What happened B?" He asked in his most comforting voice, the one he used when his own kids were upset.

Branch picked his head up and looked at all his older brothers. With a sniff he decided to just tell them what he was trying to avoid telling them all week.

"all week I've been trying to... Propose to Poppy." He said with a croak, his voice tight from crying. That's when they noticed the open ring box in Branch's paws.

That's when they all realized they fucked up.

"all week I've made plan after plan," Branch continued, oblivious to his brothers staring at eachother silently saying "oh shit." To one another. "so that we could have a moment together where I could get to tell her, but I never got a chance. We always got interrupted, at first it was you guys so I made sure you all were busy, sorry by the way, and just to be safe I made sure our friends were busy. It was going so well. But then Viva dragged her off before I could ask her."

The brothers sat in silence while their brother looked at the floor. They had messed up with him, again. Floyd was the first to speak.

"Branch, we're sorry." He began. "Don't be sorry, it's not your guys' fault. I didn't exactly tell you what I was trying to do."

"Well..."

That's when his older brothers decided to come clean. They told him what was going through their heads, how stupid it was of them to try to force his brother and his girlfriend to have some time apart. Branch was and at first but realized they had good intentions.

Branch seemed to loose hope, even stating "maybe its just not meant to be." Before his brothers immediately shut down that train of thought.

They decided to help Branch the proposal. They owed him that at least.

The next evening just after sunset, Branch stood confused outside Poppy's pod. Dressed nicer than his everyday attire, as per Floyd's instruction. Poppy also dressed up a bit more as well, Viva said it was a good idea.

Branch took Poppy down to the clearing he had originally planned to propose in. All he knew was that his brothers told him to bring Poppy here and to bring the ring.

The clearing was beautiful. The moon and stars provided a stunning ceiling, fairy lights decorated the perimeter and off to the side stood his brothers. With acoustic instruments. In the middle of the clearing lay a circle of flowers.

Branch smiled at his brothers. They did a wonderful job. But this was just the beginning.

Bruce and Floyd began the intro while Clay took the lead.

(I'm imagining them singing Fly Love by Jamie Foxx, Floyd on guitar, Bruce whistling and doing the bongos, JD has the tambourine, Clay has the vocal while the others do subtle backups. There's room for them to have their whole scene of setting this all up, Bruce saying "Trust me. I'm the one that's married here, I know romance." And Clay being nervous about taking the lead solo for his youngest brother's engagement, because he isn't used to emotional ballads but Floyd reassures him he'll be fine. Etc.)

Poppy took this cue to ask for Branch's hand, leading them to the circle where they began to slow dance. Enjoying the conversation about the atmosphere, the stars in each other's eyes. Half way through the song Viva released the fireflies. Making the moment even more magical.

Branch looked to his brothers. In return they smiled at him with pride and adoration. Bruce gave him a nod, urging him to take charge.

Branch confessed his feelings and vows, got down on one knee and held up the ring. Anxious for her answer. To which she responded with excited squealing and immediate 'yes's over and over. Kissing her now fiance.

So yeah, lmk what you think, if you use this idea for a fanfic or comic or smthn give me some credit. I flexed my scene writing brain for this post.

#trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #brozone #trolls floyd #trolls branch #trolls bruce #trolls poppy #trolls clay #trolls john dory #proposal #broppy #trolls viva #trolls #trolls fandom #trolls fanfic #i fed your little troll brain worms you're welcome

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snipsnipsnippy · 5 months

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Alright I’ve been pushed. Now I’m in a Satine Kryze mood. And BOY do I wanna have a chat some of y’all are not ready for.

Satine and the New Mandalorians are the true Mandalorians. Or at least, they were the popular representation of Mandalorians. First things first, I want to remind everyone that the Mandalorian history we have post Clone Wars-era is entirely told by the surviving Mandalorians, who are.. a fringe cult and a terrorist group (ie The Children of the Watch and Death Watch) and any other surviving exiles or enemies (eg Boba and you know, the Jedi). None of these people lived in mainstream Mandalorian society so how are we to believe them on what “true” mandalorian culture is when their beliefs or actions were deemed so radical they were exiled (or in the case of COTW, left on their own accord).

Now, yes, Satine’s position of pacifism is very extreme. No fighting at all ever is a pretty questionable long term survival strategy and an incredibly divisive one, but it’s literally one the mandalorian people defended and accepted and even tried to bring to the Republic. Because considering the historical and political position Mandalore has been in, it was only this extreme strategy that could save it. It literally ended generations of civil wars. It united the remaining mandalorians and built survivable, architecture for the barren world (which probably saved the planet, but that’s a different theory). But Death Watch, you know the party that meant to overthrow and kill her, will tell you that this was an erasure of mandalorian culture and ignorance of their warrior history, but that’s not the kind of warrior we ever see outside of Death Watch.

Everything in mandalorian culture points us to this much more protective survivor, rather than this vindictive sort of conqueror. Foundling culture in the Mandalorians is so profound because it’s something that is so unique to them. Other cultures do adopt nonfamilial members, yes, but Mandalorians do it so wholeheartedly and without question. There’s a baby alone in the woods? I don’t care if it’s 4,000 years old or its a race that hasn’t been discovered yet, that’s your child now. The way mandalorian clans are structured such that a foundling is immediately no different than a blood relative, whether they come from the same species or star system. Nephews or daughters or neighbors are all the same to a mandalorian (and a hot mention to mando’a for throwing out gender biases too). They are fiercely protected and fiercely loved too. Every excess that exists in mandalorian society goes to their children. To their education, their protection, the survival of the next generation was most important to a mandalorian society.

Even something like beskar, their very armor, was prized for protection, not for offensives. There’s a whole lecture on how beskar came to be metal of choice, but it boils down to being, guess what?, the best defense against lightsabers. And we see Mandalorians come out with the best armor design in like literally all of Star Wars armors ever. I’m not joking. It’s made for visibility, for protection, for comfort, and for not dying. Their identity is their armor. Its value and its design is sacred to each clan because it is forged from their history and painted with its battles.

So working back to Satine, who was raised learning all of this history, learning the ways of her warrior people and seeing the culture stray from what was once a people built for surviving and then watching it kill them, watching it tear apart her family and her home, and for a year, it even tore her away from her identity. She stands up to this massive swath of the deadliest fuckers in the galaxy, and she says “no.” She doesn’t raise a sword. She doesn’t point a blaster. She knows how. She was the fucking mandalorian princess. Clan Kryze was deeply respected. Her father died a hero to these people, and for her to stand up without using force or weapons takes a shit load of courage and some uniquely mandalorian stupidity. All to save their future, their culture, and their children. She said “kill me if you wish but spare the kids” and at the time, she can’t be any more than 20 because timelines are rough. She’s probably still just an orphaned teenager herself. This is the wake up call that broke the Mandalorian Civil Wars.

This is the Most Mandalorian stunt a mandalorian has ever mandalorian-ed since Tarre Vizsla himself told off the fucking Jedi.

She’s the savior of her culture, and Death Watch burned it all down because they wanted to kill, not protect. Satine was more a mandalorian than most of the Mandalorians we see. More mandalorian than her sister will ever be, and Bo won’t even speak her name.

#satine kryze #I love her sm #mandalorians #hi it’s me #i love Mandalorians #it’s me #there is shade to Bo Katan bc honestly she deserves it #but I do love her too just in the war criminal matriarchal lesbian kind of way #justice for Satine #she deserved a name drop in that big family spiel in mando s3 #vktxt

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audhd-nightwing · 3 months

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street kid dick au

aka some more stuff for a different au i have

ROBIN (dick grayson)

BLUEJAY (jason todd)

SPARROW (tim drake)

plot stuff below:

bruce never goes to the circus. he reads about the flying graysons in the paper a few days later, but by then dick is lost to the system. he’s put in what is essentially juvie, because social services was full, but escapes after a few days and hides out in Park Row.

a few families in Crime Alley let him stay with them in exchange for help with their kids/work/ etc. he never stays too long because he doesn't want to be a burden, but it keeps him going for a few years. eventually everyone in the area knows him and loves him like their own.

after a while of that, he ends up at Ma Gunn's School for Boys. he's a progidy- good at avoiding detection and light on his feet. he makes a great pickpocket for Ma Gunn

dick, in the meantime, is still working on his plan to go after tony zucco. the lessons help, though he only steals from people who are obviously well-off. he makes sure all the boys at the school get fed, and anonymously leaves money for the people nearby that are clearly struggling. he's a sort of Robin Hood (pun intended) figure in crime alley

anyway, flash forward a bit. dick has been working for Ma Gunn for almost a year, and has been looking out for the vulnerable people in his section of crime alley, and the other kids in Ma Gunn's "school"

enter one jason todd, 12 years old and dropped off by the Batman. him and dick become fast friends, and jason joins dick in his robin hood role

one day they realize Ma Gunn is doing far worse things than they thought (IDK SMTH BAD). jason convinces dick to let him contact batman and he agrees, but only after getting out as many kids as he can

the school is shut down, but they stay in the area and decide to protect Crime Alley themselves if batman won't do it. they don the masks more to protect their faces than to hide their identities. dick goes by Robin and jason goes by Bluejay

they become the vigilantes of Crime Alley, but they also help as their civilian selves by babysitting, helping out at stores/restaurants, teaching some basic self defense, etc.

batman eventually confronts them but they come to an agreement. tim, instead of fixating on and following batman, follows robin and bluejay. he realizes robin is dick grayson the same way as in canon but doesn't really have anything to do with the information (aka he doesn't figure out batman's identity)

dick and jason corner tim one night and are basically like "oh shit we gotta adopt this poor kid" when he explains himself. so they kiiiinda kidnap him (he agrees to go but like the cops don't know that). bruce definitely knows dick and jason's identities, and knows they took in tim but honestly agrees tim is better off with them than his absent parents (plus he knows he couldn’t stop them even if he tried)

(tim essentially goes missing according to the police, but it takes a while before anyone even notices he's gone- which just convinces them they did the right thing)

they have an actual apartment (it's not nice or big but it's comfortable and safe enough to live in) and a few safe houses across the Alley, and tim slowly becomes ingrained in the community they've built

(if anyone notices the new kid looks a lot like the missing Drake boy, they don't mention it)

dick and jason train tim and eventually clear him for patrol. he takes the name Sparrow.

jason never finds out about his bio mom (sheila haywood) but he is still taken by the joker and beaten with a crowbar (in gotham, not ethiopia). dick and tim find him just in time but he’s close to dying- even flatlines once- but they get him to the batcave & medical attention in time.

once jason is stable, dick goes back out on his own to confront the joker. since, in this au, dick was never raised by bruce, he’s a lot more morally grey. ergo, he kills the joker after jason almost dies by his hand.

jason and tim are honestly both like “good riddance” cuz, again, not raised by bruce. bruce himself is super pissed but dick (with tim’s help) gives a whole argument with a slideshow and statistics n everything. bruce cuts contact for a while but the three of them don’t give much of a shit, they still stop by the manor to see alfred and keep him company when bruce is out.

(alfred was in the army and worked for fucking MI5, the only thing he’s disappointed about is that dick, a child, had to kill the monster bruce refused to)

after dick kills the joker, jason stays in the manor with alfred for a while to recover. dick and tim visit as often as they can, even separately, and at any time of day. after a few months jason is able to go back to their apartment in crime alley, but is still benched until he’s fully healed. during that time he acts as their ‘man in the chair’ and learns a couple new languages to pass the time.

sidenote: babs has been working with bruce as batgirl for a few years (she starts at 16) when she is paralyzed by the joker and becomes oracle. the joker stuff with jason happens when she’s 19, but she’s doing a semester abroad for college at the time. she only meets the boys after she gets back, while jason is still at the manor recovering. jason and babs become good friends, and she teaches him how to hack/code/work with computers.

LATER

steph (14) comes in about a year later as spoiler, and pretty much forces bruce to make her his sidekick (babs gives her the batgirl mantle). dick (18), jason (16) and tim (13) meet her pretty much the same way they met babs- at the manor while visiting alfred.

tim and steph become best friends, as do babs and dick. jason is friends with both steph AND babs, but his brothers are his best friends. anyway, through those connections (bruce to the girls to the boys) they are introduced to the young hero teams. dick (18) and wally (19) become besties and so do jason (16) and roy (17).

#my au #my art #dick grayson #making this for a separate reason #aka #idk how to add photos to ao3 #so i’ll just post a link to this post #is this basically a digital collage? i guess so #whatevs i like making them #picsart my bestie #picsart #‘how did they get this stuff?’ you may ask #simple: they steal it from the batcave or use bruce’s card to pay

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drakeanddice · 4 months

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Mausritter this week was light on adventuresome hijinks, truth be told. The Waywatchers have been away from their home in Fox Cross for a full week (rigorous timekeeping being a key pillar of Old School play, y’know) and the dangers and treasures of the world had them bending their feet back to their beginnings.

Dragging all the treasure their little mouse backs could carry, they spent the first hour of game night hiking from the southern extremity of The Patch to the very north, reminiscing about the things they missed most about home. Birch, being not just Team Dad but a consummate family mouse, told stories about his wife and nine children. Fennel reminisced about Grampus, the de facto lynchpin of Fox Cross’ Guild of Messengers, a gruff and vaguely put-upon iconoclast of the Patch’s erstwhile postal system. Bindi, thinking always with her stomach, wondered about the first marzipan of the season (made by Marni, Birch’s wife in their family shop) and how Chester, the retired sewer-guide who runs the Waystone Tavern was getting on.

And they all were excited to get their weekly stipend from Horatio, the town Aldermouse. Granted they were carrying more treasure than they could strictly carry, but it would be nice to have some pips in their pocket that they hadn’t had to drag out of the danger and darkness of the world beyond Fox Cross’ walls. Plus, they had plans for the spoils of their adventuring, already.

Mausritter leans into the old adventure game mechanic of treasure being experience; 1 Pip (the coin of the realm) equals 1 XP. But it does a neat thing where every 10 Pips invested in a community or spent charitably grants an additional XP. This cleverly encourages the PCs to—if you’ll excuse the terrible pun—buy in to the characters and factions that exist back in civilization, far away from the dangerous wilds. And so, financing improvements and business expansions and defenses and helping to fund the further goals of their communities is a way to advance their characters and overall shape the ongoing narrative of the world.

That’s good tech.

Anyhow, this episode was all about building a supporting cast that the players are excited to come and check in on again and again. So, Birch’s enormous family got screen time. Grampus the angry retired mail mouse got some screen time. Chester the anvuncular innkeeper got some screen time. Horatio, the harried bureaucrat Aldermouse got a little screen time.

But we also got:

-Thorne, the warhawk of a smith who was in the Regiments lo those many years ago and thinks that direct action against the problems brewing in the south is the only way to get things sorted, damned be the costs.

-Sweetgum, the local representative of the Dairybell Company who believes anything can be solved with careful application of Pips. Also, as long as problems are far away, they aren’t her problems.

-Berthold, the head of the Almondiers, the mice who tend the almond grove just north of town on the edge of the spooky Estate. He’s made of ghost stories and local legends.

-Lucretia, a caravan leader built more like a hamster than a mouse. She wears an enormous ruff and travels with a small band of adventurer mercenary-mice. She desperately wants to add the Waywatchers to her retinue.

-The Papas, five unconvincingly-disguised least weasels who run the Foxcross Ferry. They sneak in a low-country brogue and hide themselves under oilskin cloaks and nor’easters, but the fact that they were once part of a gang and are in hiding until they deem it safe to retrieve their ill-gotten gold is an open secret. One is on duty at all times. The others are engaged in a game of cards that has been going on for years. They are Tall Papa, Kind Papa, One-Eye Papa, Split Papa, and Wet Papa.

All in all, a cozy session with a goldmine of characterization and hinting at plots that could be coming down the pipeline. Next week, we’re taking the first pigeon out of town and back down to Swamp Farm to consult with the Speaker-for-Ghosts. Hopefully we’ll meet Tam down there and we’ll be back to adventure.

Sometimes a breather and a little bit of downtime is exactly what you need to get the pot back to boiling.

#writing #ttrpg #indie ttrpg #ttrpg stuff #mausritter

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theresattrpgforthat · 10 months

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i have a character in a bitd campaign i’m running who is going to be defending a dissertation and i would love to do a different game for when that happens. do you have any recs that have the vibe of thesis defense or an interview, public speaking/presentation, etc? Thanks!

THEME: Debate Games

Hello friend. There are not a lot of debate games, but I found a few that might give you the structure for something that you can rebuild to meet your needs. Some of them even work for more than two players! I’m also going to include one game that is about duels, in case defending your thesis is more about protecting a position, and I’m going to slot in a recommendation for a game where bantering back and forth represents a pre-duel sort of duel, in case you find it’s system more to your taste.

ANTological Theory, by Adira Slattery

ANTological Theory is a GM-less tabletop comedy game for 3-5 players, who take the roll of ant philosophers debating in the Hive. You will debate about a variety of randomly chosen topics; the nature of Food, an ant's sense of self, the importance of the Queen, and even the trolley problem. Gameplay can be fast paced, or players can spend a lot of time debating one of the random topics at their leisure. The entire rules fit on a single page, and you'll just need two six-sided dice.

This game will probably need a bit of re-working to make it about your chosen topic than to be about ants, and the rules are pretty loose as well. The bulk of the game is a list of roll-tables and a series of mirrored statements that your characters will take stances on. If you bought the Bundle for Racial Justice and Equality back in 2020, you already own this game so it might be worth checking out. You can also check out the One Shot Podcast’s episode of this game to hear what a game session feels like!

Salads N’ Sandwiches: An Absurd Debate Game, by aghostofeli.

Every dish you have ever eaten was either a Salad or a Sandwich. What that means is only limited by your imagination and how well you convince everyone else. Players compete to have their arguments and rebuttals heard by a judge of their peers. The first to rack the most points wins.

This is a debate-tournament style game in which you argue about items and what category they belong in. The initial game is about sorting foods into the category of Sandwich or Salad, but you could likely replace it with any other two categories! The game is designed off of Caltrop Core, so you’ll only need d4s to play.

Meeting God on a Park Bench, by Owlsten.

Meeting God on a Park Bench is a small game about discussing things in a safe environment using card-based mechanics. This game is meant to simulate an argument, but you don’t literally have to have an argument with God. It has two roles: Attacker and Defender. You will use cards to determine what happens with each round of discussion to determine whether you will remain as Attacker and Defender, whether you move on to a new topic, state something you like about the other player, or change the topic. This is an argument game that has built-in safety tools to ensure that the disagreement stays civil, to ensure that the players behind the characters don’t feel personally attacked.

The biggest downside to this game might be the looseness of the rules. If you’re going to be defending a dissertation in an academic setting, you might want to change how some of the cards work, or add in a few extra rules to make sure the game properly simulates a defense.

A Duet of Steel, by Adrian Thorn.

Throughout your life, throughout generations of your family, throughout the various fronts of your war, you have had one great rival. Again and again you clash with them, one walking away the victor of the battle, but bearing the scars of your war.

Whatever the setting and scope, the focus of A Duet Of Steel is the two Duelists, their climatic duels, and the aftermath of these confrontations. The Duet Of Steel is a dance of antagonism, with an ebb and flow of conflict and recovery. But it is a Duet, with the two parties playing off each other. It takes two to tango.

A Duet of Steel is a game about two rivals going head to head, but their conflict doesn’t necessarily have to be physical, which is why it might be a candidate for this kind of game. You will build your duelists, your setting, and decide what is at stake. You’ll also have to agree on a Victory Condition. You’ll then move through a timeline in which your Duelists will use a deck of playing cards to determine what you might lose or gain. The cards will also be used as modes of attack or defense, and will help you determine who wins and whether or not an opponent gets to counter. Out of all the games on this list, this game has the most concrete rules and the most well-defined play structure.

Games I Have Recommended Before

I Have The High Ground - for a duel of words where emotions are more heavily involved - and you wear capes!

#dnd #game recommendations #indie ttrpgs #asks #tabletop games #debate

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zenosanalytic · 1 year

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Road Rage

Ok so here's the thing: people will say "driving the speed limit is unsafe", but why do they say that?

Because everyone around you is driving faster.

And why is everyone around you driving faster?

Because people will drive at the speed which feels "natural" for a road, and the lanes are wide and smooth and straight, with no obstructions to either side and open sky above("for safety"), all of which encourages fast driving. So why isn't that "Natural" speed the speed-limit instead?

For two main reasons:

in the US we use an absolutely moronic method for determining the "proper" speed for a road

because in the US we build fast(I mean 50+mph here but REALLY I should mean 30+mph) roads right through neighborhoods and commercial districts, which means entry/exits right onto that road from them and frequent traffic lights and the necessity of making allowances for ppl not in cars(ie peds and cyclists), and the official speed can only be so high through such areas and still meet US legal(note: NOT ACTUAL) standards for "safety".

So in the US we have a situation where the posted speed for EVERY ROAD(and Im just using the term generally in this post for all driving surfaces; streets, parkways, drives, highways, whathaveyou) is far lower than the road is built for, and people are just supposed to KNOW this even though no driving instructor teaches it, Know to ignore speed limits and match their speed to everyone else, but also if you drive like this and a cop sees you they can totally pull you over whether it's creating a safety issue or not(Im sure that doesn't lead to any sort of systemic abuse of authority or anything).

So the answer's simple and right at the top of the post; you drive "the speed of traffic" and you're safe, right?

WRONG! WRONG WRONG WRONGWRONGWRONG!!!!!!

But why wrong?

Remember the road features which determine "natural speed"? The wider, smoother, straighter and more open a road is, the faster people will drive on it. But it also makes them pay less attention cuz it's so "safe" and drive more recklessly cuz it's so "safe". THIS is how unsafe roads make "unsafe" drivers.

You can do everything "right". You can drive with traffic, signal early, attempt visual communication with other drivers, keep your eyes open and always concede the lane to those CLEARLY driving dangerously; do EVERYTHING they teach you in defensive driving... And you will STILL get rear-ended by someone looking at their phone too long behind you who didn't notice the light had turned red(on a road that never should have had even ONE traffic light on it in the first place, and which residential never should have been allowed to abut in the first place). You will STILL get t-boned by the guy who "always" blazes through that intersection because "nobody ever uses it". You will STILL find yourself on the business end of one of thousands of different potentially life-ending scenarios like this.

And it won't be because these people are "unsafe drivers" anymore than it will be because YOU Were going 50 in a 50 zone. It will be because we have a 50mph-rated road, built like a 75mph highway, right up against businesses and people's homes rather than being separated from them by frontage roads like it should be(not that US frontages are any safer), with no obstructions between them and ppl's backyard fences "for safety"(who cares if it makes it less safe for everyone not in a car), and not so much as partial turnoff lanes for entry and exit onto said highway-pretending-not-to-be-one. It will be because our roads are dangerous, our signage is wrong, and our laws are DESIGNED to be discriminatory and unsafe. It will be because our roads are dangerous on purpose.

If you are driving on US roads, you are in danger. Do what you feel is best to mitigate it, certainly educate yourself about that subject, but know that you will NEVER reduce that danger to a reasonable level. I belabor this because it's important that everyone understand the danger of US roads is not something anyone can fix or mitigate with their personal driving behavior. It is a political problem, and it must be fixed with political behavior.

So: Get involved. Educate Yourself on This Issue. Learn about candidates, what they have to say about road design, whose money is backing them, and then distribute your support accordingly. Meet people in your community and band together to go to city council meetings and have those of you who can speak in front of others complain about this at least once a week. "Road Safety" is one of the biggest public safety issues in the United States today. Carcentric civic design is LITERALLY KILLING US, in about half a dozen ways, and the Republican Party, as Fucking always, is not only dedicated to preventing us from fixing it, but dedicated to actively making it worse. I haven't even touched on increasing vehicle-size in all this. The idea of road deaths as anyone's personal failing, as someone's fault, distracts us into prisons and punishment and blaming victims, and away from doing what we need to do to actually stop road deaths from happening, which is Politics. The laws need to change or people will keep dying.

tl;dr: Roads should be narrower, rougher, built to be MUCH slower, crowded by trees, and much less common.

#zA Posts #zA Rants #Roads #Carcentric Design #Civic Infrastructure #Politics #US Politics #Road Discourse #Car Discourse #Rhetoric #cantankerous posts #zA's Inveterate Politicism

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cringemesstickles · 7 months

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Father and Son

(TickleTober Day 5: Not Ticklish)

Summary: Daniel and Eric had another argument

Pairing: None, this is so incredibly platonic. the fact that I actually have to say that is just- 💀

Word Count: 1,091

A/N: I gave into the feminine urge to mend their relationship

———————————————————

The tension in the Matthews household was thicker than fog. Eric and Daniel had had another fight, ending with both of them shouting and Daniel storming off and slamming his door.

Eric stood in place, rubbing his temples and contemplating all that was said. It was easy to lose your cool when dealing with an angsty teenager, but perhaps he was too hard on Daniel. After all, he was still just a kid.

As much as Eric wanted to talk to Daniel, he knew the kid needed some time to himself and he didn’t wanna invade his space.

They would sort it out later.

After some time, Eric decided Daniel had probably cooled off by now and decided that now was the time to talk.

He took a deep breath as he stood outside his son’s door, already contemplating what he should say. Finally, he hesitantly knocked.

“Daniel? Can I come in?”

“Whatever..”

With permission granted, he turned the doorknob and entered the room where Daniel laid on his bed with his arms crossed over his chest, an expression of irritation on his face.

Eric sighed and sat on the edge of the bed.

For a moment, the two sat in uncomfortable silence, both having a hard time looking at one another.

Finally, the man spoke.

“Look, son, I know I haven’t been as… present as I should be.” He started, trying to find the right words. “I know the divorce has been difficult for you and I just wanted to apologize for everything I said… I shouldn’t have been so hard on you, and I’m sorry.”

Daniel seemed to contemplate the apology before giving an awkward nod.

“It’s whatever… I was kind of a douchebag too.”

With the awkward exchange over with, the tense atmosphere still remained, though less suffocating than before. Eric knew he had to lighten the mood.

Thinking back to when Daniel was little, he suddenly got an idea. An idea that would either lighten the mood, or make Daniel hate him forever.

“Hey, Danny… are you still ticklish?” He asked, looking at his son to watch for his response.

And what a response it was.

Daniel quickly sat up and pulled his legs close to himself, his cheeks turning pink as his eyes formed a wary gaze.

“No, I’m not ticklish.. I outgrew that years ago!” He claimed defensively, though there was a tinge of nervousness in his voice.

Daniel often wore a tough facade. He’d built himself a wall of teenage angst and he refused to let it break. Though he knew that if the knowledge of his ticklishness resurfaced, that would get washed down the drain.

Eric was unconvinced. He knew his son too well for that lie to work.

“Daniel, how are we going to build a better relationship if we can’t be honest with ourselves.” There was a playful tone to his voice. Deciding to put his son’s claim to the test, - even though he knew it was a lie - he finally reached over and dug into Daniel’s sides, earning a surprised squawk from the teenager.

“ACK- Dahad!”

The rare sound of laughter filled the room, Daniel squirming and shoving at his father’s hands, his facade broken almost instantly.

Seeing his angsty teenage son laughing and smiling like a child truly melted the detectives heart. It had been too long since he’d seen the kid look so free and happy; the usual scowl replaced with a bright smile, just like the one he wore when he was a child.

“Well, Danny, I’m starting to think that you lied about not being ticklish.” He teased, relishing in his sons laughter.

Daniel’s laughter grew louder when the tickling fingers moved upwards to his ribs, massaging the bones and digging into his back ones, sending ticklish sparks shooting through his nervous system.

“STOHOHOP! YOU’RE S-SO AHAH- AHAHANNOYING!!” The kid shouted through his guffaws, though there was a hint of glee in his voice, showing that he didn’t hate this as much as he claimed.

“Well, am I as annoying as you are ticklish?” “YEHEHES!!” Daniel walked right into the trap.

“So you admit you’re ticklish!”

Daniel’s face turned red, realizing what the answer implied and immediately regretting his response. He kicked his legs and bucked his hips, tears of mirth forming at the corners of his eyes.

Eric recalled all of Daniel’s tickle spots, remembering one in particular that used to get some pretty big reactions.

“If memory serves- and mine is never wrong- you used to be pretty ticklish riiiight here!” He shoved his fingers under Daniel’s arms, scratching at the sensitive hollows.

Daniel let out a childish squeal, throwing his head back with unrestrained joy, gluing his arms to his sides and trapping his fathers hands.

“DAHAHAHAD!!! NOT THEHEHERE-”

The teenager was in stitches. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so hard, if at all. It was almost freeing in a way.

“Told you I was never wrong. You might be even more ticklish than when you were little, son!”

Eric was enjoying this moment just as much as Daniel, his chest tightened with affection for his kid, looking at his rosy cheeks and scrunched up nose and seeing the bright little boy that he raised.

In this moment, Daniel wasn’t an angsty teenager, he was just a kid.

Not wanting to push too far, Eric let up, pulling back and ruffling the kids hair.

Daniel laid catching his breath, a smile still glued to his face.

“You’re such an ahahass…” He tried to glare at his father, but it wasn’t very menacing due to the rosy cheeks and goofy smile.

“Watch it, son. Unless you want a round two-”

“Nonononono!! I’m good I’m gohohood!” The giggling teenager held up his hands defensively, sitting back up and shaking his head.

Eric laughed and pat his son on the shoulder, assuring that there would be no more tickles for the time being.

The earlier tension had been lifted, replaced by a comforting atmosphere. When Daniel finally calmed down, Eric wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close, holding him in a side hug.

“I love you, Danny. No matter how many arguments we have, you’ll always be my kid.”

Daniel smiled at that and leaned into the hug.

“I know. I love you too, dad…”

“Wow, not too cool to tell your old man you love him?” The elder grinned.

Daniel snorted.

“Shut up.”

With their differences set aside, the two would continue to improve their relationship, father and son.

#mess writes #tickletober2023 #augtickletober2023 #tktober2023 #tktober #tickletober #saw tk #saw tickles #lee!daniel #ler!eric #father and son 🥺#Daniel matthews #Eric matthews #lee!daniel matthews #saw tickle fic #saw tk fic #saw franchise

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hebuiltfive · 3 months

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FAB-FIVE-FEB, Week One: Scott

This one was born from a random, mad, unserious thought. I keep putting Scott into terrible, secret meetings. Oopsies? Maybe one day I'll have him learn his lesson. This one features Captain Black, only because the crossover potential with Anderson shows is endless and I will forever be crossing them over here and there for the rest of time whenever I get the chance. Anyway, enough rambling. Here is my contribution to week one of @gumnut-logic's Fab-Five-Feb!

✨ Clandestine Meetings ✨

Scott’s arranged himself a meeting out of desperation, but it will probably be one he comes to regret. Prompts used: quiet, dimpled, “who, me?”

AO3 link here.

Dimly lit corridors; their cold and uninviting presence sent a chill up his spine.

He never should have come here. This had been an incredibly bad idea and yet… there he was.

Scott tried to ignore the dripping sounds. They came from above and symbolised the nearby river as the source. So far underground he was but the river was still seeping through. How badly built was this place? How hastily had it been constructed?

He blocked any more of those questions from his mind. Being trapped down in those tunnels, Scott had begun to become acquainted with the unfamiliar feeling of claustrophobia. He couldn’t say he was a fan.

Behind him were two guards. When he approached the designated entrance half an hour earlier, he had first deludedly believed it was his signature dimpled smile that had won the men over. Even though the meeting had been arranged prior to his arrival, the suspicious organisation of said meeting had led Scott into expecting some sort of difficulty somewhere along the line. The two guards stationed on the door had seemed the most likely source of said trouble, hence his charm and charisma coming into play.

He didn’t need those skills, he now realised. The guards kept pushing him forward whenever he slowed down, further and further into the unending maze of corridors that continued onwards for miles. There was something suspicious about the men, something off-putting that had Scott automatically revert to the defensive. He had organised this meeting with, what he guessed were, their boss. He had been in control the whole time.

So why did he suddenly feel like he lacked any power?

It would have been easy to get lost in such a vast cavern of underground tunnels. Scott figured that was the point; anyone who was trying to leave in a hurry, who wasn’t supposed to be leaving, would discover that finding the exit was almost impossible before being caught. It wasn’t a comforting thought.

Onwards and onwards they marched in uncomfortable silence and Scott began to feel disorientated. How much longer was it going to take? Candles on the walls did little to illuminate the area. He would have switched on his phone’s torch had the guards not taken it from him before he entered. Had they not crushed it right in front of him… with their bare hands… which, now Scott came to think about, was a little weird…

“Here.”

The guard to his left gripped Scott’s shoulder tightly to halt him going further. Scott bit back a curse from the pain. That’d leave a bruise.

Scott was manoeuvred to enter a room to the right. He hadn’t even noticed this particular corridor had doors. Had the others he’d passed through also had entrances and exits dotted along? The gloomy nature of the tunnel system had him racking his brain to try and remember, not that it mattered now of course.

He stepped into the room, just as dimly lit as the corridor, and the guards followed behind him. The one who still had a grip on him forcefully persuaded Scott to take a seat. He had no choice but to oblige.

“I’m surprised you even showed up, Tracy.” The figure who sat on the other side of the dusty desk was shrouded in shadow, but Scott recognised the voice from the previous calls he’d had with him. “I thought you’d take more caution before entering the unknown.”

“Who, me? Seriously? You clearly haven’t done nearly enough research into some of my youthful activities.” Scott aimed for nonchalant but his voice shook slightly. He cleared his throat. “You mentioned a deal?”

“That I did. For the right price, of course.”

Scott had been expecting something along those lines. Nothing was free in this world, even human decency.

“However much you want, it’s yours.”

The figure stood from his chair and rounded the desk. He wore all black, and Scott wondered whether that was a style choice or whether it was to blend in with the rest of the shadowed room.

“It isn’t money I seek, Tracy.”

“Then what is it?”

The man, now standing beside him, leant back against the desk behind him. In this position, Scott could make out his gaunt features. Did the guy live down here? It looked like he hadn’t seen the sun in years, not to mention the sunken cheeks and haunted eyes.

“I said, what do you want?” Scott asked again when the man gave him no response.

“Your full co-operation.”

“And if I refuse?”

“We do not need your consent to gain co-operation, Tracy, nor do we need to wait for your answer before dealing with your friend. I would choose carefully.”

Scott blinked back his confusion, or was it his anger? He couldn’t tell. “My full co-operation with what?”

“That explanation will come with time. For now, you choose. Life or death.”

The glint of a barrel of a gun shone in the candle light as the man retrieved it from his holster. It looked to be a special issue, one that elite security teams would probably possess. Scott felt himself grow colder as he contemplated what the man was implying.

He wasn’t only threatening his brother’s life.

If Scott didn’t agree to this man’s terms, he also wouldn’t be walking out here alive.

“Fine. I accept. I offer you my full co-operation, just let them go.”

The gauntness of the man’s features seemed even more harrowing when he tried to smile. It was cold and calculating, almost smug. “No.”

“What? That wasn’t the deal we agreed to! You said if I came here—”

“I lied.” He returned to the shadowed side of the desk, holstering his weapon once again.

Scott released an exasperated sigh. “This isn’t— You can’t do that!”

“I think you’ll find that, down here, I can do whatever I want. Now, let’s talk business.”

“I’m not talking anything with you until you let my brother leave here.”

“You are in no position to bargain, Earthman.”

The term had Scott relenting on his demands. It was an odd term to use, one that suggested a possibility of… No.

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

He could barely make out the man’s — the thing’s — shrug now he was back in the darkness. “If you do not see it as one, I do not care. The fact still remains true and you are trying to stall for time. It is pointless. You will lose.”

“I wasn’t aware we were playing a game.”

“We are not. This is situation is much larger than you could comprehend, Tracy. But, I am getting away from myself. You will listen, and you will listen closely. Only then will I consider releasing this brother of yours.”

#fabfivefeb2024 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds fanfiction #five fics #thunderfam #prompt fill #scott tracy #crossover because i will never not write one when i have the chance

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toomanyclans · 2 months

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Why is it called Too Many Clans?

Because there's 12 of them.

🔥PYRECLAN🔥

PyreClan's territory is a large stretch of hot desert, their camp surrounding the only oasis in the area. They mainly eat desert lizards, snakes and rabbits, and have large, thick-furred ears to keep them cool in the day and warm at night. They worship the element of fire, being the first Clan in history to figure out how to willingly light a fire and also the benefits of cooking food, which slowly spread to the other Clans over time. PyreClan also has built their own makeshift refrigerators in the ground of their territory, which is a function that only works in their climate, unfortunately for their neighbors. They've been since regarded as experts of food, and their ancestors typically take on a flaming translucent appearance. They have to trade frequently with the other Clans due to their harsh environment, making them a relatively peaceful Clan.

🌊TIDECLAN🌊

TideClan's camp is on the sandy shore of a vast, life-filled ocean, with the borders connecting to their neighbors becoming progressively grassier and more abundant with trees, however swampier. They get their water from ponds located deeper into their territory, and their dens are made of naturally eroded rock with hollowed-out caves. They mostly eat fish caught on their shores but will sometimes catch the occasional seabird, like a petrel or a sandpiper. They have short, sleek fur, allowing them to dry quickly after emerging from the water and to move through it easier and with less drag, and their tails act as rudders to steer them in harsh tide. They worship the element of water and their ancestors take on a deep blue, rain-like appearance. Their territory is mostly very abundant with resources, however they are friendly to other Clans regardless of need for trade due to their monopoly on the ocean's prey. Their neighbors will even offer them to hunt on stretches of their beach simply due to the fact they themselves don't eat fish, thus negating any competition for food.

☁️BREEZECLAN☁️

BreezeClan's territory is that of a deciduous forest, with a river running through it originating from a reservoir in SnowClan's mountains. They care little for the ground of their territory, however, since BreezeClan worships the wind and sky and chooses to camp in a vast collection of treetops. They hop from branch to branch, relying on squirrels and birds for food. Their legs are strong and able to spring them relatively far, and their tails are prehensile and able to help them hang onto things. They care little for trade and are relatively neutral to other Clans, however are defensive of their territory even if they have almost no need for anything below the treetops. They have quite the monopoly on feathers, however. Their ancestors take on a blustery, white appearance.

💎TUNNELCLAN💎

TunnelClan lives up to their name well. They worship the earth and the ground, and their territory is a sparsely-wooded, hilly area, however their camp lies underneath that. They have an insane combat advantage in their territory, with several routes from all sorts of underground tunnels, all connecting to one massive cave system, the center of which is their camp. They treasure special gemstones and materials they find via digging, and due to the natural allure of these items, use them often for trade, most likely for soft materials like furs and feathers to upkeep their bedding. They mostly rely on tunneling creatures like rabbits and mice, however other predators with underground dens are often a source of strife for them, like badgers and foxes. Their claws are durable and their eyes, ears and whiskers are larger, allowing them to navigate perfectly in their dark tunnels. Their type of preferred prey gives them a lot of smaller pelts to trade as opposed to MoonClan and SunClan's expertise on larger pelts. Their water source is an offshoot of BreezeClan's river, yet they also have access to saltwater, which they have mostly no need for and often lend to TideClan when times are tough. Their ancestors glimmer and shine as if made of gemstones themselves.

⛈️STORMCLAN⛈️

StormClan's territory is a vast, prairie-like grassland, with their camp being made of some of the only bushes in their land. They hunt rabbits and prairie dogs most often for this reason. They worship the elements of the storm, such as strong gales, rain and even thunder and lightning. Rain is seen as a sign of good fortune and thunder and lightning even more so, and tales say that their very first leader, Stormstar, died being struck by lightning, which is seen as the highest honor a cat in their Clan can achieve. They view it as being specifically chosen to serve the spirits' rank as a result of an admirable life. However, either very few or no cats at all have faced this type of demise since. They have a river in their territory, again originating from SnowClan's mountain peaks. They are rather neutral to other Clans, though are some of the most rigid and uptight in their beliefs. They have spiky, staticy fur, which they claim to be a result of the electricity in the air of their territory blessed upon them by the spirits themselves. They are fast and lean runners and quite enjoy snacking on bugs, despite the other Clans' disgust at the idea. Their ancestors are light yellow and brimming with shocking energy.

❄️SNOWCLAN❄️

SnowClan has one of the harshest territories in all of the Clans and are secretly revered for it. Their camp is in the caves of a snowy peak's cliffside, the rest of their territory arctic, high-up and hard to traverse. They have long, thick fur to keep them warm, and lengthy claws to break through ice and the rough hides of their prey. They mostly rely on arctic rodents like rabbits and lemmings, but sometimes have to resort to mountain goats, in which they team up to hunt (often by running it off the side of a cliff). They have a carved-out staircase down to the other Clans's territory for trade and Gatherings, however the other Clans view the structure as unstable and dangerous to travel on. They have a few sparse and ragged trees in their territory, and a pond that often freezes over and has to be broken through to drink out of. This is the water reservoir that flows into the rivers of all the other Clans. They heavily rely on furs but are able to produce their own a lot of the time. They worship the ice and snow and view their environment as a holy challenge from the spirits. Their ancestors take on a frosty, ice-blue appearance.

🌙MOONCLAN🌙

Located in coniferous forest, MoonClan worships the darkness of night and is an almost completely nocturnal Clan. They look shockingly similar to TunnelClan cats, with wide eyes, long whiskers and big ears to help them navigate the night, and long claws for their unusual prey type. They hunt large game like boar and deer, and thus have very large and thick pelts for trade. They accomplish these hunts using traps, their hunting patrols large in number in order to safely navigate killing dangerous prey. This also gives them tusks and antlers for trade as well. They view themselves closer to their ancestors, who take on starry appearances, than any other Clans. They are mysterious, elusive and slightly hostile to other cats.

☀️SUNCLAN☀️

SunClan's territory is a stretch of savannah, with dried yellow grass and plenty of dangerous fauna to keep them on their toes. They worship the light of the sun and are exclusively active during the day. They are fast runners like their neighbors in StormClan, however also possess long claws to take down large prey like antelope, gazelles, and even zebra. They steer clear from more dangerous animals however, like crocodiles, elephants, hippos, rhinos, buffalo, and even big cats like lions, leopards and cheetahs. Hyenas and African wild dogs are the most feared among their territory however. They are less likely to use traps than MoonClan, instead opting for the risk to simply take down the tendons in their prey's legs themselves with teeth and claws. They have evolved to be larger than most cats as a result, to minimize injury. They have short fur to keep them cool under their hot sun, and also trade primarily large, thick furs and the horns of any beast they kill. On an off day, they'll go for smaller savannah animals, but value communal dinner greatly and prefer a large catch for the entire Clan to eat in unison. Their high regard for social health and communication cause them to be naturally friendlier to other Clans. Their ancestors take on a radiant light yellow appearance. They have ownership of a small portion of beach, which they don't use, and have allowed TideClan to hunt on it before, however TideClan doesn't really need it either considering the two Clans' distance from one another.

🌾FARMCLAN🌾

FarmClan are the most laid back of all twelve Clans and aren't very spiritual. They live on a stretch of farmland owned by Twolegs who haven't bothered to spay or neuter the lot of them, but are friendly to the cats and feed them often. They mostly rely on barn mice, however, which could explain why the Twolegs like to keep them around. They live in harmony with the farm animals on the land such as horses, cows, pigs, chicken and sheep, and even a few dogs. They care little for combat and are welcoming to visitors, and are thus seen as lazy pushovers that have strayed too far from spirituality by the other Clans. FarmClan cares little about others' opinions however. They value the cycle of growth and harvest the Twolegs practice among their fields and their ancestors take on a wheatish sort of appearance, as if the plant's seeds blowing in the wind had taken the shape of a cat. Their trading options are plentiful however, with them having little need for food and always willing to lend some to other Clans if they get desperate enough for kibble. They will also trade stalks of rye and helpings of stolen milk.

🩸ALLEYCLAN🩸

Their territory harsh and their culture revering violence, AlleyClan is one of the most feared and rumored about Clans. They worship the act of battle, however are not overly warmongering, despite what the stereotypes the other Clans make up may say. They heavily frown upon battles that were not needed or meant to be fought, and rushing into combat hoping to kill is a fool's pursuit in their eyes. Scars are seen as incredibly attractive in their culture, especially potentially lethal ones. Honor is their main concern, and overly bloodthirsty cats that attack non-combatants or a fleeing opponent are shunned by them. However, the blood spilled in battle is seen by them as incredibly sacred, and injuries are heavily revered. They live in a populous Twoleg city, surviving off rats, pigeons and scraps of trash. They are the only Clan whose territory does not possess a drinkable body of water, so the have to borrow from the river on the border of FarmClan, which FarmClan allows without question. AlleyClan has unique access to metals and even shards of glass, and their camp is a collection of old forgotten trash bags and bins in an abandoned parking lot. Their ancestors take on a scarlet, dripping appearance.

🌸FLOWERCLAN🌸

FlowerClan worships life and finds joy in every aspect of their territory, from the vocal birds of their lush jungle to the tall stalks of bamboo to the flourishing plants along the ground. The only thing they have to worry about is tigers.. and poison dart frogs.. and venomous snakes.. and constricting snakes. But those creatures are all simply trying to survive as well and deserve a place in the rainforest! FlowerClan's camp is among the tall, wild grass close to a bamboo patch. They have an entire shore to work with but allow TideClan to use it freely if they wish, a favor which TideClan returns by offering them some of their caught fish if FlowerClan is particularly low on food. However, that is almost never a problem for FlowerClan in their bustling territory, with tropical birds and critters aplenty. Their ancestors take on a lush flowery appearance. FlowerClan has a monopoly on dyes due to the several types of flora in their territory, and often adorn their dens, pelts and beds with colorful petals.

💀GRAVECLAN💀

Their territory a dull, grassy moor of countless headstones, GraveClan's sworn duty is to protect the burial rites of their fellow cats. They keep every grave tidy and adorned with offerings from their living kin, and are experts on communing with the spirits. Every cat has the right to bury their kin in their own territory, but many see GraveClan's land as sacred and opt to bury cats there. To challenge GraveClan is seen as blasphemous--but they are still a Clan. Pacifists at most times, the only time GraveClan will fight is in self-defense, or if another Clan's graves in their own territory are being purposefully defiled and destroyed, or if another Clan trying to bury a cat is being refused passage to GraveClan. They are able to sustain themselves on the crows and mice that scurry along their land's short grass but almost any Clan would be willing to offer them food if they had really fallen on hard times. Their ancestors take on a wispy, ghastly appearance. GraveClan trades with TunnelClan frequently for their stonework.

#warrior cats #warriors #wc #fanclan

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gremoria411 · 5 months

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Just a little on the Gundam Asmoday/Asmodeus today (it apparently could’ve been called the Ashmodai, which is neat).

Okay, so the ASW-G-32 Gundam Asmoday is found by Wistario the Erda II crew (specifically Sinister) inside an Aridne Cocoon in the Debris zone. It’s specifically noted to be essentially brand new, with no records of it fighting in the calamity war, and a full complement of weapons ready to go. Based on this, and the fact that it seems to have its reactor hooked up to the cocoon, we can gauge one of two things. Either;

The Gundam wasn’t completed until either very late in the Calamity War, or just after, and thus didn’t have an opportunity to fight against the mobile armours.

This Cocoon relay station was apparently important enough to dedicate a Gundam frame just to keep it operational.

Based on the assumption that a bunch of regular ahab reactors would probably have done the job just fine, I think it’s more likely to be a case of it being completed late.

What makes this interesting is that we only know of one other Gundam frame that was completed late in the calamity war:

The ASW-G-71 Gundam Dantalion.

Now, because this is both at the end of the series (71/72) and because it’s stated that the Dantalion had been completed late, I had previously assumed that the Gundam Frames were completed sequentially. So, the ever-elusive ASW-G-70 Gundam Seere would have been completed just prior to the Dantalion, and the 72nd Gundam would have been completed after, possibly even being completed postwar (At a guess, either the Gundam Andromalius or Gundam Pruflas/Bufas - I’d be very interested in know what happened to it, since it’s be the most likely source as to any clue to the end of the calamity war and it’s immediate aftermath). But the Asmodeus implies something quite different. Unless its deployment was delayed for whatever reason, then it’s evidence that the Gundam frames may not have been built sequentially. (I’m not sure which it would be - it doesn’t seem to have any equipment that’d be too difficult to work with, being structured as a fairly direct combatant - gigant javelin as a sort of whip-sword to attack from a distance, smoke grenades and then grand tonfa’s up close, but then there’s plenty of other reasons for it to not have seen combat).

We do, however, know that Bael was the first. Add to that the seeming increase in complexity as the numbers climb (Dantalion appears simple but it has a bunch of add-on equipment not shown above, a lot of the 50’s and 60’s-series Gundams have fancy designs or systems, especially compared to the relative simplicity of the 00’s and 10’s), and we can guess that they were at least designed sequentially, with Asmoday’s presumed delay being an exception.

However, what I also think is interesting is where it was found. Inside an Ariadne Network Cocoon, big enough to be used as a harbour, administrative and let’s face it defensive point, in the network. Administered by the Falk Family (presumably headed by either Kalf Falk or his immediate successor), who already possess a Gundam Frame to their name - the Gundam Gamigin (shown above).

So what was the Asmodeus, for all intents and purposes a “phantom machine”, which exists on paper but was never actually deployed, doing there? Each Seven Stars Family or similar organisation within Gjallarhorn has precisely one Gundam Frame to their name, with no evidence of one family using multiple frames. I find it particularly interesting that it’s the Falk’s of all people that seem to have this frame - they’re one of the two families we know the absolute least about, the other being the Baklazan’s. Even then, most of the information we do know is what can be inferred from their Urdr Hunt point and their Gundam Frame. The only real supposition we can make is that they’re probably the oldest out of the Seven Stars - assuming no family got multiple Gundam Frames during the calamity war (which feels a fair assumption to make, given that we know absolutely nothing about any frames that were destroyed, implying no-ones really around to keep those records), then the ASW-G-04 Gamigin Gundam was likely deployed the earliest out of all the Seven Stars Gundam Frames, shortly after Bael (again, assuming sequential deployment). So it’s possible that the Falks were the longest surviving active participants in the Calamity war, besides Agnika Kaeru himself, of course. But it’s unclear why they would end up with another Gundam frame, and then not use it. A few possibilities:

The Intended Pilot for the Asmoday was killed before it could reach them, and the Falk’s didn’t have another pilot on hand to use it.

There was a Cocoon was involved in transporting the Gundams to their pilots, and it was kept at the cocoon until it’s recipient could be sorted out.

The Falks wanted extra “insurance” of their position once the Calamity War was over, and arranged for a second Gundam frame to be assigned to them somehow.

The Asmoday had nothing to do with the Falks, and it was left at the Cocoon by N as prize for Urdr Hunt participants.

It was salvaged from its transport during the war, and restored by the Falks.

In short, I don’t know why it was there and we’re probably not going to find out anytime soon, but it’s fun to think about. I would also like to point out that the Asmoday was also just…. Left there, which feels like it must have been purposeful in some way, but also means that the Falk’s didn’t recover it in the intervening 300 years.

#Watch the Baklazan’s have ASW-G-02 now or something #The Gamigin’s just one of those suits I reference constantly for some reason #Gundam Gamigin #Falk Family Gundam #Gundam Asmodeus #gundam asmoday #Gundam Dantalion #Gundam Bael #gundam #ramblings #gundam ibo #Calamity War #Gjallarhorn #gundam urdr hunt #Seven Stars #Falk Family

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dailyanarchistposts · 1 month

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Chapter 3. Economy

Who will take out the trash?

If everyone is free to work as they choose, who will take out the trash or perform other undesirable jobs? Fortunately, in a localized, anti-capitalist economy, we could not externalize, or hide, the costs of our lifestyle by paying someone else to clean up after us. We would have to pay for the consequences of all our own actions — rather than paying China to take our toxic waste, for example. If a necessary service like garbage disposal were being neglected, the community would quickly notice and have to decide how to handle the problem. People could agree to reward such work with small perks — nothing that translates into power or authority, but something like getting to be first in line when exotic goods come into town, receiving a massage or a cake or simply the recognition and gratitude for being a stand-up member of the community. Ultimately, in a cooperative society, having a good reputation and being seen by your peers as responsible are more compelling than any material incentives.

Or the community could decide that everyone should involve themselves in these tasks on a rotating basis. An activity like garbage collection does not have to define anyone’s “career” in an anti-capitalist economy. Necessary tasks no one wants to perform should be shared by everyone. So instead of a few people having to sort through garbage their entire lives, everyone who was physically able would have to do it for just a couple hours each month.

The Christiania “free state” is a quarter in Copenhagen, Denmark, that has been squatted since 1971. Its 850 inhabitants are autonomous within their 85 acres. They have been taking out their own trash for over thirty years. The fact that they receive about one million visitors a year makes their achievement all the more impressive. The streets, buildings, restaurants, public toilets, and public showers are all reasonably clean — especially for hippies! The body of water that runs through Christiania is not the cleanest, but considering that Christiania is tree-covered and automobile free one suspects most of the pollution comes from the surrounding city that shares the waterway.

Residents have built dozens of the houses now standing in Christiania using innovative eco-designs. They also use:

solar power, wind power, composting and a whole host of other eco-friendly innovations. A method of filtering sewage through reed beds, which means water coming out of Christiania is as clean as that coming out from the rest of Copenhagen’s treatment plants, has helped the commune be shortlisted for a pan-Scandinavian award for ecological living.[38]

Different people interviewed had different conceptions of how Christiania was kept clean, suggesting a sort of dual system. A newcomer said that you cleaned up after yourself, and when you felt like doing some extra picking up, you did. An old-time resident who was more involved in decision-making explained there was a garbage committee, answerable to the “Common Meeting,” responsible for the bottom-line of keeping Christiania clean, though clearly voluntary assistance and cleanliness by all the residents was the first line of defense.

#anarchism #daily posts #communism #anti capitalist #anti capitalism #late stage capitalism #anarchy #anarchists #libraries #leftism #anarchy works

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iviarellereads · 6 months

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Exit Strategy, Chapter 8

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Murderbot Diaries, read this one!)

In which we have the technology.(1)

Murderbot's consciousness returns slowly, and its memory is shattered. (Some voices discuss whether they should have let the company put it in a cubicle, but no, that would let them study it and how it broke its governor module.) It follows its neural pathways to a memory storage of… what the hell is The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon?(2)

Then, more pathways blossom, allowing it to start accessing, sorting, organizing its memories much faster, as well as initiating its own diagnostics and data repair codes. (A voice cheers that it's showing increased activity, putting itself back together. MB identifies the voice as a client.)

It knows it's in a room, not a cubicle. It remembers Art, but a ping goes without response. No, it sorted Tapan and left Art. (Ratthi asks how it's feeling. It finds Ratthi tagged "my human friend" which seems unlikely,(3) but it figures "Fine." is a safe answer. Ratthi asks if it knows where it is. It asks him to wait while it searches for that information. He says okay.)

It recognizes that it's in a MedSystem. It wonders if they think it's human, and how stressful that would be. Then it remembers that a MedSystem would diagnose it with "a terminal case of being a SecUnit." (It says it doesn't want to be a pet robot. Gurathin says nobody wants that. It has him tagged that it doesn't like him. It says so. Gurathin sounds amused(4) when he says he knows. MB says it's not funny. Gurathin says he'll mark cognition at 55%. MB says "Fuck you." Gurathin ups his estimate to 60%.)

Finally, MB remembers the gunship. The terror paralyzes it, until it realizes it's not on the gunship, which was so clean and new, but a much older vessel. Still, its emotions are speeding up the repair process on memory storage as it accesses things to feel about them. Its diagnostics show its governor module is still hacked, and its data port not repaired. (It says it doesn't want to be human. Mensah says humans mostly won't understand that, believing that anything that looks human wants to be human. MB says that's dumb.)(5)

It's been ignoring its operational code in the rebuild, so it starts rebuilding that now that it remembers how important it is. Its organic bits remember how to walk, so it checks the room out. It picks up the sensor data from the flight deck, knows they're on approach to a station of some kind. The station is built around a big, old-fashioned ship.

Cautiously, Murderbot reaches out, and feels the edges of the station feed's reach.

Dr. Mensah said, “Do you know where you are now?” Home to her meant a planet. I knew that because I’d shipped memory clips to her family there. Important memory clips. Memory clips that had almost gotten us killed. I said, “I don’t like planets. There’s dust and weather, and something always wants to eat the humans.(6) And planets are much harder to escape from.” Behind her, Gurathin said, “I think that’s a yes.”

Mensah asks if it knows what happened. It knows it had a catastrophic failure. Mensah says it extended itself too far, does it remember? MB does, but doesn't want to talk about it.

Instead, MB asks why the ship is so old and shitty. Ratthi gets defensive, saying this ship came in the hold of the bigger one that became the station, with their grandparents. MB is skeptical about humans being packed in the hold, but Mensah smiles and says they were in suspension, because the trip from their former, failed colony took two hundred years. In Preservation, they allied with other systems settled in similar fashion, and rejected Corporation Rim aid, leaving them independent.

MB accesses information on Preservation, and finds that its status is better than equipment, but it still needs an owner, and it'll have to be a happy pet bot. Whether it said that aloud this time or some other time, Mensah reassures it that everyone else on the ship believes it's a person with more than usual augmentation, being brought to Preservation as a refugee. It turns, and finds Mensah, Gurathin, Ratthi, and Pin-Lee.

Pin-Lee says it fits the definition of a refugee, after all. Ratthi says it's all very dramatic, the crew think it's a spy who defied the company to save them. MB compares that to an adventure serial, right down to the inaccuracies. Mensah says they have options, now that its appearance has been changed, and it's had some success at… she doesn't quite want to say pretending to be human, so settles on "not being noticed." She's going to keep those options open, until MB decides what it wants.(7) On Port FreeCommerce, she underestimated its ability to fit into human society on its own, and she apologizes.

MB doesn't want to go to the planet. Mensah says it can stay on the transit station. It asks, in a hotel? Mensah says, if that's what it wants. It asks for a big display surface, and Mensah says that "can probably be arranged."

The memory rebuild continues, up to and through docking at the station. Mensah and Pin-Lee leave first, to distract the crowd. When the coast is clear, Ratthi and Gurathin walk MB out and to a hotel, adjacent to the station's admin center. They get a suite intended for diplomatic guests, and MB gets a whole set of rooms all to itself, connected to the others' rooms.

It doesn't like it.

An hour after it locks itself in the bedroom with the big display, Ratthi taps it in the feed, and says they set up a little network, and he hopes it helps.

Carefully, MB reaches out, and finds that they set up cameras in the suite lounges and hallways, so it can see everything coming and going except the private areas.

I had a complex emotional reaction. A whole new burst of neural connections blossomed. Oh right, I often have complex emotional reactions which I can’t easily interpret.(8)

Murderbot adjusts the code, so nobody can hack it from outside, then unlocks its door.

Mensah has quarters elsewhere on the station, and some of her family has come up to visit her, since she can't go planetside just yet. Pin-Lee, Ratthi, and Gurathin are staying on the station for meetings about what's been going on.

About twelve hours after they get settled in on the station, Arada and Overse come to visit. MB finds its memories of them and remembers that they're clients, a couple, they like each other,(9) and they like it. After twenty three minutes watching them on the cameras, MB comes out of its room to see them.

Arada doesn't hug MB, but bounces and waves her arms excitedly. She says they're going on a survey in a few months, it's not company or bonded, but she'd like for it to come along as security, though she's not sure how to pay it… Gurathin says it likes hard currency cards, and when MB looks at him, he says the obscene gesture is understood. Pin-Lee says it can't sign any contracts until its memory rebuild is complete. MB asks if its owner said so, but Pin-Lee says no, because she's its legal counsel, calling it asshole, maybe affectionately.(10)

After everyone else has gone to sleep, Pin-Lee goes back to MB's room with it, and gets its bag. It had double checked it, once it remembered the bag existed, and found Wilken and Gerth's unused ID cards and the hard currency it hadn't used yet, all intact. Pin-Lee says this is illegal, so MB can't tell anyone, and gives it three additional fake IDs, made by Gurathin, and more currency, the funds she and Ratthi gathered for the trip to TRH and didn't use. Preservation doesn't use currency, and they were drawn from the citizen travel fund.

Murderbot asks why.

Pin-Lee says, they want it to know they're serious about its freedom. It's not a prisoner, or a pet. Then she stomps out.(11)

MB spends a lot of time just sitting in the room, door closed, letting the rebuild processes run.

Twenty nine hours after arrival, Ratthi comes to get it to watch a newsburst with the rest of the team. It has a lot of interviews, but essentially, the bond company has declared war on GrayCris, and other corporations and entities are getting involved because of GrayCris's illegal strange synthetics trade. The newsburst refers to the data from Milu, and some of the videos are from Gerth and Wilken's blackmail collection.

Gurathin says they're out of it now. Mensah says, they still have to interact with the corporates sometimes, but this is a relief. Arada asks how MB feels.

The rebuild process was increasing in speed again, and I suddenly didn’t have any space left for talking to humans. I got up and went back to my room. *** Rebuild Process Complete at Cognition Level 100 percent *** At thirty-seven hours since arrival, I sat up. I said, aloud, “That was stupid.” Everything was clear, sharp. Note to self, never, ever jump into a gunship with a bot pilot and fight off a construct Attacker code again. You almost deleted yourself, Murderbot.(12)

It gets off the bed and sweeps the suites in its network. The humans are at a dinner event, except for Overse and Arada, sleeping, and Gurathin reading in the feed in his room. MB gets its jacket and bag, and slips out.

The station's security is like Milu's, concentrated where things are likely to go wrong.(13) Nobody notices it. Its camera-erasing scripts worked so well, there's almost no footage of its current configuration to be used in the newsbursts, and the common assumption is that it helped the humans off TRH but hasn't been seen since, so nobody expects to see it as it currently is.

The station mall seems to have limited feed advertising distance, and they're using two different currencies: hard currency for travelers, and barter for locals. Fortunately, passage booking takes hard currency. It's got time to kill, so it goes to the "Welcome Center", bemused. It's never seen anything like it before. There are kiosks, pamphlets, real humans ready to answer questions, and a holographic recreative play of the journey by the first colonists. When it's over, there's still no increase in security presence at the docks. It buys passage with one of the cards Pin-Lee gave it, and pretends to sleep in a transient area while watching the station's security feed.

The ship calls for boarding. It doesn't get on.(14)

It finds Mensah's quarters in the station directory, thinking what a bad idea it is to have private quarters listed publicly. It doesn't want to see her family, so it goes to her office instead. It breaks in, and spends eight hours laying on the couch, watching media, still waiting for security alerts that don't come.

Eventually, it picks up Mensah arriving with two humans and a juvenile who looks like her in miniature. MB stands and waits. Mensah is surprised to see it, but hides her reaction. She asks it for a moment, and it steps outside onto the balcony while she talks to the others.

It hears footsteps, and realizes the small one followed it out. She says hello, and it says hello back, and that it's her mother's security consultant. She knows, and says Mensah said if she asked its name, it wouldn't tell her. MB confirms it. Mini-Mensah says her mother also said MB saved her from corporate goons. MB calls that out immediately, Mensah did not say goons. The girl says it should know what she means. MB admits it saved her, and asks if the girl wants to see. She's surprised, but agrees.

MB has a lightly edited down version of the flight through TRH, at the end. It sends it to the girl, who is awed but tries not to show it. MB says Mensah saved it, too: shot a SecUnit with a mining drill.

The girl asks if it's weird that it's a SecUnit. MB says it is weird.(15)

Mensah comes out and finds them, and points back inside. The girl waves goodbye and goes to sit inside. Mensah says she was afraid MB would leave. MB says it thought about it. Mensah asks if it's thought about what it wants to do. It wants to watch media, it says. Mensah gives it a skeptical look, and says if that's all it wanted, it wouldn't have gone to Milu. MB says it watched a lot of media on the way.

Undeterred, Mensah says Gurathin showed her the video it sent him. MB was helping people, even people it was too late to help, it wanted to help. MB says it's programmed to help humans. Mensah points out that it's not programmed to watch media. MB privately concedes the point.

Mensah says MB has a job offer from GoodNightLander Independent. MB says it thought it was illegal to buy SecUnits in those territories. Mensah says they want to hire someone who may or may not be named Rin, who they think is based in the Preservation Alliance, whose citizenship is immaterial. Or, that's about how she remembers their request.(16)

MB is still in disbelief. They want to hire a SecUnit? Mensah says they want to hire the person who saved their assessment team, whoever that is. She's also been talking to Bharadwaj, and they think MB should consider making its story public, as a documentary. Preservation has a movement pressing for full citizenship of constructs and high-level bots. A full account of Murderbot's history might be a grand contribution, even if it was just allowing Mensah to share the account it gave at Port FreeCommerce as it left. MB is equally terrified and attracted to the idea.

Mensah nodded. “Again, there’s no rush about any of this. I just want you to know you already have options here,(17) and I expect you’ll have more offers for your services or advice as a security consultant. And that you have friends here you can discuss things with, whatever you decide to do, or wherever you decide to go.” I had options, and I didn’t have to decide right away. Which was good, because I still didn’t know what I wanted. But maybe I had a place to be while I figured it out.

=====

(1) Yes, as in, "We can rebuild it". (2) It accesses the show so often, its human neural tissue literally leads it there first. My heart weeps. Whomst among us. (3) It gets annoyed by Ratthi but it still had him tagged "friend". (4) I wasn't entirely alluding to this in the other chapters, I think the text supports my assertions that Gurathin stopped hating or being suspicious of Murderbot some time between its disappearance and its offer to help get Mensah back. But this gives me the warm fuzzies. I just love how they interact. Something something under a microscope rotating in a jar. (5) It's true, we are self-centered like that, we do believe ourselves to be superior and worth wanting to be. It's a failing we may have to reckon with someday. (6) I am internet poisoned because I can't read this passage without thinking of "I don't like sand." I wonder how much of that was intentional. (7) She knows it chafes at the idea of being a pet. She's made sure it doesn't have to. (8) Someday it'll learn to recognize the emotions, maybe even come to terms with them, learn to acknowledge them directly instead of stepping around them because it's got no desire to deal with that mess just now. But for now, we get these lovely, flowery dances. (9) Not always mutually inclusive with being a couple! I love that little acknowledgement. (10) At least, I like to read it affectionately. (11) I find this emphasis on stomping fascinating. She doesn't just leave suddenly, she stomps. What made her angry about that interaction? I might be a little too like MB to tell. Having her motives questioned? Or something else? (12) Do you think that's going to stick? Or is MB going to keep getting itself into trouble, and overextending its abilities? (13) I love that that's still the first thing it checks wherever it goes. (14) The point was never leaving. It was testing the boundary. (15) It's certainly within its rights to say so! (16) Murderbot, friend, pal, comrade, you are worthy regardless, but you have done good in this universe and people recognize that. It's so quick to dismiss its accomplishments in its grief at not being perfect, because it could never be perfect, both because it's not fully a bot and can't be bot-perfect, but also because it's not fully a human but it's operating in a world run by humans who make imperfect situations that necessitate messy reactions. But people resonate with you, with your compassion, with your desire to help. (Sorry I'm just having a complex emotion too.) (17) And there's that word again. They all understood that MB's reaction at first was, in part, affected by the fact that it didn't think it was allowed to do things. It spent who knows how many years not allowed to think freely. And to learn that it had been bought by a person in a political entity whose laws necessitated that it was property… Of course it still felt confined. So they've all done the work, to make sure that it knows their intentions and their intent to follow through, no matter what it chooses.

#the murderbot diaries #murderbot diaries #exit strategy #murderbot #secunit #ayda mensah #ratthi #pin-lee #gurathin #overse #arada

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tunabesimpin · 9 months

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Hi! Here's my submission for the Tuna Sea-Side Party. (I wasn't certain how to link to a photo in an ask, so I hope the reference comes through ok).

Esher is an isekai'd pc from a high-fantasy dungeons and dragons campaign, so she's been spending most of the school year learning about how to even function in a more modern magical society, as well as concealing her own magical abilities as a warlock with a pact of the Archfey. She and Grim managed to scrape by in exams, and it was actually Grim that spotted the poster and insisted they go. Technically, Esher is the plus-one in this case lol.

Seeing as how Esher didn't even know what the ocean was before coming to Twisted Wonderland, she's pretty much learning what exactly one even does at a party like this on the fly. She was very surprised at the idea of wandering around in one's smallclothes, but since Rook helped her pick out a cute swimsuit (little black one-piece with a sheer black wrap) she's warmed to the idea. Vil was horrified enough to learn she didn't know what sunscreen was and made sure to foist that and a sunhat on her as well.

Her more competitive side will emerge when she is invited to join in on capture the flag, and she will spend more time than is entirely reasonable strategizing for the perfect victory (there may or may not be a battle map in the sand). Otherwise she'll spend her time trying to make sure Grim doesn't make himself sick with ice cream.

Thank you so much for hosting this event! I've been admiring your oc and art from afar for a little bit now and I love your blog! I hope I didn't make any mistakes with my submission, and I'm sorry it's also right at the last minute 🙏. I'm planning on drawing something as well, but it probably won't be out in time before the submission period ends.

Esher's favorite color is pale pink!

--- Being more used to battle situations, Esher was quick to form a plan for the upcoming capture the flag game. It was a 4 v 4 match, and the first team to get their points to 20 would be deemed the victors. Vil refused to take off his hat and particpate, so Esher was only joined by Rook and two unfamiliar Savanaclaw students.

Rook took a seat with Esher in the sand to see what sort of formation she had in mind. It was well devised, consiting of a strong defense for 3 at base and sending one attacker out for retrieval when the opposing team was on offense. Esher explained it more in depth of how things should operate, but the two Savanahclaw students began to judge the ordeal harshly "So you want us to just sit around until something happens? That's boring~!" Rook looked between the students and Esher. Esher scowled rebuking them "And you have a better plan? I'd love to hear it." The two shrunk, but it was obvious they were still against it.

Rook shook his head and attempted to persuade the rowdy bunch "Perhaps we use a code system to switch positions? This way it'd be harder for the other team to predict who will come next." Esher thought for a moment, agreeing on the idea and even adding to it "It would also help keep from anyone from becoming the sole target. We could do fake outs too..." With a more active plan in place, the Savanahclaw duo decided to chime in with their own ideas.

Just like that, the team built up more trust amongst one another and came up with hand signals. The five minute prep time was up and with that, it was time to head into battle! The crew gave a roaring group call before stepping up to the line. Which team would fall and which would persevere? It was up to fate now. ---

LOLOL i feel like that ending was so 2000s cliffhanger XD I just know Rook is adoring the idea of a team coming together despite differences. The beauty of teamwork! BEAUTE! LOLOL Thank you for joining the event!!! I hope you can enjoy this!

#tuna be talkin #blueveildreaming #tunasseasidesq #twst fanevent #event request #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst rook #twst fanart

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jokingmaiden · 2 years

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Catharsis Pt. One: Mikey Gets Pissed

i was thinkin abt how all of the kids really need a chance to just get all their feelings out after the movie. since mikey is essentially me, and i felt very qualified to write a raging outburst from a youngest-sibling-pacifist, i started here. i might write the rest if this is received well :P

(side note: i tagged this as ooc bc i don't have a lot of faith in my characterization skills)

Word Count: 2,351

Warnings: angry mikey, implied mystic violence, the beginnings of a panic attack, brief reference to leo's attempted self-sacrifice

“APRIL!!”

The sound cuts through her phone in a desperate plea, the sheer panic enough to make her think the Krang have returned somehow.

“Jesus, Donnie, what’s wrong? I don’t think I’ve heard you this upset since Leo broke your Atomic Lass bobblehead.”

“While that was a HORRENDOUS crime punishable by DEATH,” the purple-clad mutant explains in a huff, “this is much worse.” His picture on their facetime call hunches over the phone, blocking her view of the audible commotion behind him.

“What’s the situation?” she asks, voice lowering into one of serious inquiry.

“Well—”

“MIKEY’S GONE BALLISTIC!!” Raph’s voice interrupts, and April is treated to watching as an indignant Donnie’s expression fades into the background while Raph holds the phone a bit too close to his face to be taken seriously.

“I’ll be right over,” April decides, collecting her things. She pauses, though, at Raph’s next words.

“No. Stay where you are. I don’t know why Donnie thought it’d be a good idea to get you involved in this, but you can not come here under any circumstances. Capiche?”

“No, not capiche!!” April barks back incredulously. She throws her stuff down into her mattress hard enough to warrant a slight bounce. “What are you freakin’ out for? Mikey would never hurt anyone. He literally made your worst enemy into your dad. He’s a sweetheart!!”

Raph leans close to the phone, voice grim as his shadow overcasts the camera. “April, listen to me. You don’t know our little brother like we do. You haven’t seen him when he’s angry.”

“Because he doesn’t get angry,” she clarifies, brows furrowed. “I wouldn't be surprised if his head's full of cotton candy. You’re being ridiculous. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“April wAIT—” Raph pleads, but her thumb is disconnecting from the end call button before he can utter another word of senseless panic to her. He’s being ridiculous, and she knows it. Even with his weird new mystic powers, Mikey would never hurt a non-enemy.

Right?

April feels the slightest tug of doubt at the corners of her mind, remembering his craze during the worst pizza week of the boys’ lives. He was fully intent on hurting those punk weirdos. But he was easily pacified by Raph lifting him off the ground to incapacitate him and then feeding him pizza. Why would this be any different?

She climbs down into the manhole on the street, thanking her gradually-built-up noseblindness to the sewers. Her immunity made it much easier to resist the stink, even if she could still smell it for the first few minutes of traversing the sewer system.

Mikey shouldn't be a problem. Sure, Dr. Delicate Touch was scary sometimes, but he was just brutally honest. Mikey would sooner pull one of his teeth out than hurt someone in his family, she was sure of it.

Within ten or so minutes, and several cycles of internal reassurance, April makes it to their secret hideout. She steps inside and immediately keeps an eye out for Mikey, not bothering to try to put up any sort of mental nor physical defense; Mikey would never harm her. She knows it.

“Angelo?” she calls out, looking around the base cautiously still. “Guys? Anyone home?”

“April!!” a familiar voice greets, full of young, innocent glee. The orange-clad turtle of the quartet comes barreling out of the kitchen to pull her into a delightful hug, which she graciously accepts.

“Lil' bro!!” she greets, smiling brightly at him as relief floods her body. Of course he’s fine. Why wouldn’t he be fine? The boys were overreacting.

“I'm so glad you're here!!” Mikey cheers, leaning back to look at her. April feels her chest squeeze as she notices the pinprick of tears in the corners of his eyes. “My brothers all disappeared and I can’t find them!! I thought it might be some sudden game of hide and seek or something, but they just won’t come out!! I’m getting really worried.” Almost as if to emphasize the sting in her heart, his little pouty face erupts in heartbroken puppy eyes.

How could those jerks do this to their little brother? Not only is he not mad, but he’s also worried sick!!

“Don’t worry, little bro,” April assures, smiling brightly at him as her hand comes down to pat him twice on the arm. “They’re here. They actually called me a bit ago!! They seem to think you’re angry for some reason?”

Mikey's eyes sparkle with what seems to be hope, nodding along with her explanation. His smile widens as she states the last part of her story. “Oh, weird!! Good to know they’re still here. Can you pleeeeaaaase help me find them? I’ll look in Donnie’s lab, you check around here!!”

“Sounds like a plan, little man,” she sings, shooting him finger guns. He giggles happily and scampers off towards Donnie’s workshop, leaving her to head into the kitchen alone.

Her smile falls immediately.

A plethora of sharp objects are sticking out of the walls, embedded deep into the concrete. Other objects of various sizes are strewn about, some dented on the floor below clear impact zones as if someone twice Raph’s size had launched them with the intent to kill. And in the middle of it all is Leo, upside down, tied up with duct tape, and hanging like a spider’s next meal. He looks beat to hell and absolutely terrified. The moment April comes into his line of sight, he begins trying desperately to scream around strips of tape.

“Holy shit!!” April exclaims, running forward to pull the binding on Leo’s mouth off. “What happened here? Are you okay?”

“April, thank the great pizza place in the sky,” Leo pants, wriggling against his restraints. “Mikey’s lost his mind. Can you get me down? We gotta get dad.”

“Wait. Mikey did this to you??” she asks incredulously, a single laugh escaping her in disbelief as she pulls him down. He hits the kitchen island with a loud crash, and she wastes no time slicing him out of his taped cocoon with the nearest sharp object. “What did you do to piss him off this bad??”

“Well," Leo begins sheepishly, sliding off of the counter and kicking away the remains of the residual stickiness attached to him. "We maaaaay have ruined the mural he’s been working on since he was a kid in the east wing tunnel while sludgeboarding...?”

She blinks slowly at him.

"So, let me get this straight," April begins after a long moment of staring at Leo in pure shock. "After everything you went through a few months ago, the second all your wounds are healed, you decide to try out a completely new made-up sport? And not only that, you test it in the only tunnel Mikey has a claim on??"

"Well when you put it like that, we sound like terrible brothers," Leo laughs, the noise quickly dying off when April doesn't join him. He clears his throat of the awkwardness, looking away from her burning gaze.

"Look, I get it. We messed up big time," Leo relents. It seems as if he's about to continue, maybe to deliver a heartfelt and emotionally impactful speech, when his eyes widen suddenly. He stares over her shoulder at an unknown source of terror.

April turns around to see what Leo is gaping at.

Holy shit.

Mikey stands—no, he floats—in the doorway, Raph suspended in a cloud of orange glow behind him. The youngest turtle's eyes shine a bright topaz, interrupted in the center by near-yellow pupils.

"Oh, good, you found Donnie!!" Mikey hums happily. "The gang's all here."

He flicks his hand, and Raph goes barreling into the wall. As April's eyes follow the collision, she notices the purple-themed turtle standing in the opposite doorway, clinging to his tech-bo with trembling hands like it'll save him from his little brother's mystic rampage in any way.

"Mikey, buddy," April tries to soothe, caution in her voice. She takes a nervous step backwards, hips colliding with the counter. "Let's take a deep breath."

Mikey looks at her as the glow from his form disappears. He drops to the floor, tilting his head in confusion. "Why are you scared, April? I'm not mad at you."

"I'm glad," she laughs quickly, eyes scanning over the room for escape routes. "I just, uh, also don't wanna watch you murder your bros with your wack-ass emotion fueled mystic mumbo jumbo?"

Mikey gasps, offended. "I would never hurt my brothers!!" he insists, balling his hand against his chest like a Victorian lady clutching her pearls.

"YOU JUST LAUNCHED ME INTO A WALL," Raph protests, struggling to his feet with Leo's assistance as if he hasn't emerged from much greater falls unscathed before.

"Funny! Y'know what other wall you got launched into, Ra-pha-el?" Mikey hums, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he articulates each syllable of his brother's name. Raph shrinks in on himself, falling into his usual habit of trying to make himself smaller in the face of discomfort.

"Oh, right!! The wall with my life's work on it! The wall with the mural of all of us I was making!! The wall with the only accurate picture of gram-gram we had left!!!! The wall I can never remake again because I busted my hands open ripping a hole in space to save our idiot brother from his suicide attempt!! THAT WALL!!!!"

April flinches at Mikey's tone. He sounds...

She studies the way his hands tremble, betraying the crazed smile plastered onto his expression like a flimsy sealant over the cracks in an overfilled dam.

He sounds genuinely furious.

It would be terrifying, if it wasn't absolutely gut-wrenching.

She steps forward, watching as his tirade re-sparks the violent glow around him. He all but ignores her, continuing to scream at his brothers in blind rage, up until she takes his scarred arms into her hands.

It physically upsets her stomach, the way he flinches at the contact. He goes completely silent, almost ripping his hands away from her, but she holds him steady.

"April, go home," he orders. In any other situation, she'd be in disbelief of his audacity. Maybe the way his voice sounds more like it’s begging, or the desperate hush of his words, convinces her to pardon him from a meeting with the business end of her bat. "This has nothing to do with you."

"This is my family as much as it is yours, Angelo," she insists, trying to tug his again-floating form to the ground. "Talk to me."

He stares at her for a long moment. His full figure trembles under her grip. The glow fades around him, and he properly lowers back down to the floor.

"I-I..."

No other words escape him as the dam finally breaks. He collapses over her shoulder, sobbing loudly as his padded knees buckle under him. April may be quite strong now, but he’s still a large mutant turtle, so she opts to lower slowly to the ground instead of trying to support his full weight.

He curls around her, sobbing desperately and letting out pained mewls at each attempt to stifle his sound. His chest heaves, and April has to do everything in her power just to keep him steady.

“There there, big guy,” she soothes, rubbing a comforting circle into his shell. “It’s alright.”

With the switch from fury to heartbreak, Mikey’s brothers are on the pair in seconds. Raph scoops the two into his lap, wrapping his arms around the both of them for extra support. Leo leans over Raph’s shoulder, hand coming around the larger turtle's neck to gently rub his little brother’s head. Donnie sits cross-legged next to them, reaching into the pile to give Mikey’s hand a firm squeeze.

“I-I just,” the youngest turtle finally manages after several minutes of sobbing, “I don’t—hic—know what to do!! How am I ever gonna make art again like this??”

The brothers look at each other, then to April, all lost for words. She sighs, lifting a hand to Mikey’s cheek to gently draw his attention.

“Mikey. Your hands will heal,” April assures, but he only scrunches his expression, leaning away from her touch and into Raph’s chest to cry harder.

“What if they don’t?” he manages. It sounds as if he wants to scream it, but his hoarse voice corners him into a desperate whisper.

“…The original Michelangelo fell incredibly ill while directing the construction of St. Peter’s Basilica,” Donnie begins, staring down at his free hand with a concentrated expression. “Even in the last week of his life, he found ways to help with the building process. He even kept sculpting, even though he probably shouldn’t have considering the meager state of his health. He kept making art up until his last day.”

“And ol’ Angelo the first has nothing on you!!” Leo adds, nodding thoughtfully to himself. “If some ancient fleabag can sculpt til’ he drops, then there’s nothing capable of stopping our little brother from making amazing art no matter what.”

“Besides,” Raph chimes in, “creativity is like, your thing. If anyone can figure out a way to make art in new ways, it’s you. Maybe you can use your cool mystic powers or somethin’ to make stuff if your hands can’t anymore?”

Mikey sniffles, curled up and bleary-eyed from the encouragement of his family. “….You really think I can keep making stuff?” he asks, voice soft as if daring to hope too loud might shatter the illusion.

“‘Course you can,” April laughs, gently flicking him on the forehead. “You wouldn’t be Mikey if you couldn’t.”

With a big, toothy smile, Mikey pulls them all into a group hug. “I love you guys,” he sighs, sniffling as he holds them there. Leo leans in happily; Raph readjusts to make sure his arms are supporting everyone; Donnie tolerates the contact, for Mikey; April leans across her spot in Raph’s lap to give their little brother a proper hug around the shoulders.

A long, wonderful moment of this peace passes.

“I am still gonna tell dad about the mural, though.”

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