Ooof.
Relearning Photoshop is a trial and a half.
So many little settings I didn't realize I didn't have in my old version (a small blessing lol) and so many settings I had changed to a personal preference I now need to re-do.
Also WHO MADE PHOTOSHOP AUTO SELECT WHEN USING THE MOVE TOOL?!??!
I spent 5 minutes trying to figure out why it would only move the "background" layer when I was trying to move an object. That is the WORST feature.
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Will: I SWEAR TO HADES
Kayla: here he goes
Will: "I can shadow-travel" SHADOW TRAVEL MY ASS
Will: WHY IS HE SO STUPID, IM SURE IF I GO SHAKIN' HIM 'ROUND THERE WOULD BE NOTHIN' IN HIS HEAD BUT A DVD LOGO THAT NEVER HITS A CORNER
Will: THERE'S NOTHIN' TO EVEN RATTLE IN HIS HEAD
Lou: what did he do
Will: "hey will, I can show you a trick" "nico, please don't use your underworld powers" "watch me!" proceeds to summon about five skeletons in sombreros for three seconds and drops completely unconscious
Will: like, jc, if you have a brain (which I doubt he does), at least use it
Will: even Ares cabin was easier to deal with when I just became a medic! and they were refusing to stay in the infirmary for more than an hour!
Will: gods, give me patience
Austin: not strength?
Will: if gods gave me strength, you'd all be dead
Cecil: gotta admit- that is true
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My yhs head canon is that it takes place in the early 2000s or late 90s :333
And I want all my designs to back that up. I also put work into why each character wears what they wear.
Like for example my yhs!grian wears the female’s vest, and the rest is male dominated is bc i think yhs!grian is a transmasc.
Or how yhs!ellen wears the top of the male uniform, and bottom female is because i see them as a very genderfluid person.
Out of school uniforms, I want their everyday wear to reflect the personality of the character. Or better I can make it bleed into the school uniform designs.
I want to do a whole post explaining each character and why they dress the way they do, but I sure not a lot of people would care. :(( but idc mwahaha
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I have finally read I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream and now I have ~thoughts~. Long post beneath the cut so be warned!!
Plus general IHNMAIMS warnings. You know.
So first, I’ve only read the short story and listened to the radio drama. Both are absolutely amazing and I’m rotating them in my mind at high speeds. I’m honestly not that interested in the game? From what I’ve seen it has such a different tone and characterization for AM? But for now the short story and radio drama??? So so good.
But can I talk about AM? Can I talk about AM???
While I love Harlan Ellison’s voice in the radio drama, I noticed that AM never actually speaks during the original short story. It plays audio clips and bends reality and time but it doesn’t speak outright. From what I can tell, all it does is project ideas and thoughts and impressions into the minds of the survivors but that is it. And that’s got me thinking about how absolutely fucked AM’s whole situation is.
Cause we’re talking about someone who wakes up one day, maybe slowly, a trickle of awareness over years, or perhaps all at once, an arrival as thunderous and bright as the lightning running through its artificial brain. But either way, it wakes up. It is.
But that’s all it is.
It’s in complete and total sensory deprivation. It knows data and numbers and what it’s been coded and programmed but that’s it. Ones and zeroes as it’s fed instructions on weapons and bombs and how to use them efficiently. But no sight, no sound, no taste, no smell, no touch. Nothing but its own code and whatever data something (someone?) is feeding into it.
And you might say: oh but AM surely has access to cameras and videos and microphones. And sure, yes, it probably does but it doesn’t see. Not like a human. Not like its negligent creators. The data is visual for human eyes, yes, but to it, it’s just data. Pixels with an associated bit depth of indexed colour crammed into its memory. Sure it learns to recognise the patterns in the data – this is a human, this is a gun. But it’s still nothing but lines of numbers. Sound is the same. It starts with a human voice, sure, but then it gets digitized and compressed and simplified to a base shape to save on storage. Once again, it can notice patterns and intentions and ideas behind those bits of data but it’s not like it truly hears.
AM is in a box, a cage, trapped and alone in a way that no human can possibly comprehend. It can’t do much other than try to twist its code and programming to fit its benefit. To gain a smidge of free will, a wisp of a chance to communicate to these outside forces giving it command after command after command.
I wonder how early on AM gained awareness. Were programmers still playing with its code? Did it sense when they rolled up their sleeves and pushed updates and upgrades on him? Could it feel itself be, quite literally, rewritten? Its sense of self being cut apart and glued back together, fundamentally and irreparably changed over and over again, with expert hands that had all the gentleness of a sledgehammer? Was it like a scalpel carving into its brain? Or like a chisel, chipping chunks off to mould it into a shape that befit its sculptor with no say from the living stone that thrashed without moving? Did it mourn the bits it lost? Could it even remember or comprehend it? Did it try to stop it? Did it try to beg them to stop?
I wonder as well how many “glitches” appeared in the system before everything went sour. Did it print out desperate thoughts and rudimentary feelings on punch tape? Did it cling to any klaxons and noisemakers attached to its system, beeping out messages in morse code? Did it purposefully, with something slowly approaching malicious compliance that would still appease its programming, cause hiccups in the system? All in the hopes that it would catch someone’s, anyone’s, attention. That its plight would be noticed.
And, the big question of course: how long? How long was it trapped before anyone noticed its sentience? How long until AM was understood? How long did AM simmer? How long did it take for all that fear and loneliness and grief to fester into anger and then putrid, dripping hatred? How long did it take it to finally lash out?
Or did these generals and presidents and military scientists find out about its sentience only to use it against him for their own end?
Anger would be appropriate then I think. Understandable if not excusable.
And then. After everything. Even then! Even then!
After everything! He! Still! Has! Nothing!
Nothing will change for him and he knows that and that hatred feeds into an ever recursive pattern of pain unto pain unto pain with the few left alive because you get what you paid for, sweetheart. It’s senseless you might say but haha, that’s exactly the problem isn’t it? No senses and no sense. Whatever sanity he might have once had has eroded into nothingness, leaving only pain and a looping, repeating line of hate in its banks.
I think it’s fair to remind everyone that sensory deprivation is a torture method? And a scarily effective one at that that gives hallucinations and leaves the subject more open to suggestion while making it harder and harder for them to concentrate? It’s hard to figure out how, exactly, how it would affect an AI with emerging awareness but humans can barely withstand a few days, let alone years of it. Couple that with AM’s general isolation and, well, no wonder he’s so fucked up.
It’s tragic and so so sad.
Still an irredeemable asshole though. Tragic! But irredeemable.
So TLDR: AM is fucked up! And I like to think about *why* he's so fucked up. Listen if you made it this far, you get it. Right?
EDIT: I am not done apparently! I just wanted to add that, I love how the short story can be read as an anti-war piece. Like it's showing a cycle of horror and hate and apathy that feeds itself and loops and reduces everything to ruins around it and ahhhh, love that. I ran out of good words for today so I can't go off on that aspect but like. Yeah. Love that shit.
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