hey. pspspsps if you see this stop what you're doing and go watch diminish. now. here are the pros:
not a pro but a quick note: this is written. some people believe its real but this is like. a story.
story about grieving guy playing a video game that was a last gift for him. its a rage game. chaos ensues.
unfiction type style without jumpscares. theres still horror but you never are like. shaking/crying about it its just creepy.
as somebody with MAJOR watching block you never get it with this series cause it does just feel like any lets play.
as said its formatted like a lets play and gets the vibe good.
you will get attached to the characters. its unavoidable. yes even the dead ones.
as somebody still in very deep in grief after my dad died, this is a series about grief that gets grief RIGHT. i understood this main character on a personal level it was intense.
there are so many moments that are permanently ingrained in my brain for how fucking insane they are. i have not watched this series in months.
you will be in tears when shit gets sad or intense, yes, but you will also be uncontrollably cackling with glee when things go good.
furry. main character is a grey wolf. his name is apollo
also ten million greek mythology references
quotes under the cut bc this is long
"ooh look menu.. oh! soup of the day, its a.. oh. its literally a soup of the day :D"
"i am going zen mode. *makes jump* mm zen. my name is. zen? z and uh.. *struggling on new jump* two othter letters.. *fails* OH MY G-"
"oh goddamnit its a carrot. of course this is a carrot."
"*trying so hard not to curse.* BULLS. IN MY SOCKS.. ANKLES PERHAPS"
"no dont look at me like that im trying im trying so hard im sorry ok? *man says to character he is piloting in platformer*"
"ive done it to short.. ive done it too far... goldilocks."
"so logically.. it should seem.. the next course of action is to get that gun."
48 notes
·
View notes
Feeling Diminished
.
In a world full of scares
things will add to our cares
and even leave a scar.
.
I'm sure no one needs proof
troubles seldom disappear in a poof
no when they hit, everyone hears the oof.
.
Often we can do no more than smile
we cannot escape to some quiet isle
to be adorned with a magical lei.
.
We must take all our licks,
yes, all the big and nasty little icks
life has chosen to sic.
.
D W Eldred
36 notes
·
View notes
How eloquently the committee sided with the dispossessed native peoples of half the world.
Too often, their territory has been usurped; their property seized; their numbers diminished; their character debased; the spread of civilization impeded. European vices and diseases have been introduced amongst them, and they have been familiarized with the use of our most potent instruments for the subtle or the violent destruction of human life, viz. brandy and gunpowder . . .
It might be presumed that the native inhabitants of any land have an incontrovertible right to their own soil; a plain and sacred right, however, which seems not to have been understood. Europeans have entered their borders uninvited, and, when there, have not only acted as if they were undoubted lords of the soil, but have punished the natives as aggressors if they have evinced a disposition to live in their own country.
"Killing for Country: A Family History" - David Marr
0 notes
Chapter 4 Diminished II | Time Heals a Broken Heart
The Domain of Love vanishes—an unseen, endless void stretches into forever behind you.
A gust of familiar flower petals, propelled only by the exit without the warmth of the Mojave, escapes from the closing gate, bursting into flame as the touch hot hellfire.
Prepared for the Beast of Many Names and whatever remains of the Prometheus Initiative lies beyond that, you find yourselves in the same inescapable prison that is the Domain of Fear. Royce’s heart clings to Kezia and Michiya, full of trust and unwilling to part from either of them as it stares their foe down.
Nobody moves.
The standoff ends when the youngest version of Rivkah, still wearing her headphones around her neck, tearfully allows herself to fall slack in Michiya’s arms. Her feet finally touch the ground as she slides down, clutching her Walkman with the same devotion as any of the people holding her throughout her life. No protest comes when Kezia gently borrows it, removing the headphones from their jack to play the tape on speaker before handing it back—
And the Beast freezes, eyes going wide like two black hole suns as Royce’s singing fills the desolate valley.
The little girl approaches the massive wolf without a shred of self-preservation. Behind her, the skeleton of a hare limps along with the last of its strength, crawling on the ground even as its bones burn and the flowers blooming from within its ribcage bloom and die and bloom again.
The Beast presses itself low to the ground, weeping black tears as Rivkah opens her arms wider than they’ll stretch, disappearing in a mess of black fur and shreds of sticky, silver wool as she embraces its massive face.
Deprived of her greatest weapon, Ridley, flawed and sensitive and complicated as everyone knows her, stands there burning, bleeding, more vulnerable than she’s ever been as the Beast finally begins to diminish. Her entire soul has been revealed for all to see.
The lamb loves its wolf. The wolf turns all white and starts quivering out of love for the lamb. The lamb loves the wolf's fragility, and the wolf loves the frail one's force. The wolf is now the lamb's lamb, and the lamb has tamed the wolf. Love blackens the lamb.
Tar seeps back into the broken, scorched earth, and the inferno hisses peacefully, soothed by rain as the remaining darkness dwindles into gray storm clouds. There are no flowers here in these solitary wastes, but one day, the sadness will end, and one day, when it is ready, life will take root again.
Dead vines rise from dead earth as the skeletal hare, burdened by the crown of thorns heavier than its own body, drags itself across the valley. The rise from the earth to ensnare—no, embrace—the Beast’s torso, holding tight even as the raging fire burns its final glimmer of life to an end.
As its remains flutter into the swarming, orange sky, a rose unfurls from the Beast’s chest, a blow that brings it crashing to its knees until at last it too is rendered into nothingness.
Although the tears have stopped, Ridley bows her head to the ground regardless, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. She knows her brother is gone, hands clutching painfully at the rose and all of its thorns that have rooted itself in her heart from this sacrifice of his own.
She’s not the only one to lose someone she loves, and the price she paid to soothe her own pain is a vicious reminder to everyone that there is no task of revenge that will fix what has already been enacted. The cycle will continue, even if it ends by force.
But she does not share that individual sense of catharsis, the triumph without regret, every bit as stoic and resolute as Royce when she finally finds the strength to push herself to her feet. She’s ready for whatever will come next, a weapon for them all, hard eyes glittering with something only she’ll understand.
It’s a final reminder of what they came from, each thing she and Royce carried, and the burden she will shoulder alone—willingly, this time—for the rest of her life.
0 notes