Flame Toys Go! Kara Kuri Power Rangers Dino Megazord
So much to say. Firstly, we've known about this toy since January of 2021. I remember being very excited at the initial reveal, because while it was the Dino Megazord, it was so hyper stylized and cool looking, that I would definitely own a second one for something like that. (Look at the pictures, then think about that statement for a second...)
But it wasn't until August of 2022 that it actually went up for order. And y'know what went up for order shortly before it? The ZAP Megazord. Good job communicating with your third party developers Hasbro. But I was still way more interested in this one. I even had $300 set aside to buy it. But when it went up for order, it was over $400, and I realized that I could be both the ZAP Megazord and the newly unveiled ZAP Dragonzord for less than it combined, which is how I ended up owning them... And then I caved and preordered it anyway.
But we're not done, because this thing was originally supposed to release in June of 2023. But it got delayed. And again. And again. It had multiple production delays that set it back until the last day of February 2024 (thank goodness it was a leap year). And the whole thing just got me feeling a little... jaded. I just felt like I had waited for so long, and that it had been delayed so many times, that I just didn't think it was ever going to come out.
But when I finally got that email saying it had shipped, I let out an audible gasp. The next two days we me antsily waiting for it to get here. And when it did, everything was, like, "they did that?" "Wait, they thought of that?" "That transforms, too?" It was a magical experience I haven't felt since Glacialord. So let's get to why this toy makes me feel like that:
The Good: Where to start? The T-Rex, I suppose. It puts the other three I have to shame. It GaoGaiGar's the legs, so they're able to have more articulation than the others, which fold the legs up onto the back of the thigh. It has pretty decent ankles, fully posable arms, the robot's waist, and a tail with a ton of universal joints in it (not balls, like ZAP Dragonzord). The tail can even expand and compress at every joint. Its only part with subpar articulation is the head, but that's only due to all the transforming it has to do, and even then it's still a great, unique sculpt.
If you've handled the ZAP or Lucky Cat mastodons, you'll understand what they tried to do with this interpretation, but it's just a bit more and feels a bit better. Like, it can balance on its back legs, its front toes can articulate, the trunk has a ton of joints. Its definitely the most brickish of the set, but I can't imagine giving it, say, a neck joint without encumbering it. And speaking of neck, the new head position gives it such a great identity that sets it apart from its predecessors.
The triceratops has legs! But if that's not your thing, they can flip around to reveal those usual treads. Those tiny legs are also very strong, and quite posable. Definitely the second-most brickish, but that's saying a lot considering how many poses you can get it into with what it has.
I find it really hard to get good looking quadruped articulation, but the saber-tooth tiger nails it. Pounce pose, run pose, (I haven't tried sit pose yet) any pose you can put it in looks great. It also has a really emotive neck, which helps a lot.
And the pterodactyl has the biggest glow-up. It has an actual neck like an actual pteranodon! And that head on top is very articulated, giving it a lot of emotiveness. Those wings are also very articulated, and having the hip skirt serve as actual feet makes it feel like such a better package than even the Lucky Cat's version, with the double ptera that mostly ends up as a backpack.
And onto the transformation, it's not actually that complicated. Its big thing is it has a lot of locks all over the toy to prevent certain joints from moving in different modes, but it doesn't take long to realize "if it doesn't move, look for a lock." And there are so many weird and cool transformation bits, like how the head assembles, the T-Rex's nose compressing, the mastodon toes becoming the elbow guards, the shield actually transforming, etc. It's fun.
Now, before we get to the main attraction, lets pivot and talk about the tank mode real quick. There's quite a bit of dedicated engineering for just this mode, with there being a slide in the legs, cuts in the hips, dedicated parts in the T-Rex chest and mastodon head, etc. Also, credit to this one over the others, the pterodactyl really brings it together.
And the actual Megazord is so well engineered. When combined, it feels like a solid piece; I'm not really worried about it falling apart, or untransforming as I play with it. All those locks really do make a ton of difference. And it's incredibly posable. I never had any trouble getting it into the pose I wanted; wings were super smooth to work with, arms never fought me to do anything, ankles are good, tail caused a few problems but only because I was trying not to poke my monitor. And that's the most amazing thing about this toy; that it is a toy. This isn't just some big display piece, it's playable, it's fun, and that's what probably surprised me the most about the whole experience. I was expecting to be scared that I'd shatter this thing if I looked at it funny, but it's just a super solid toy.
And everything is very self-contained, like the original. There's no extra hands, no adapters, no weird super-complex dismantling going on. The guns don't store (from what I've found), but apart from them, there are no spare parts. Heck, even the sword stores away. The sword. It's exceedingly impressive what this accomplishes.
The Bad: Two things. One, some of my glue didn't set? The front of the T-Rex pelvis, and the back of one of my hands both pop off. These aren't super important, load bearing areas or anything; I can glue them myself and they'll be right-as-rain, but I worry about other people where maybe more important areas didn't set right? Hopefully this is a rare issue and never on anywhere important.
And second it the saber-tooth tiger bit me, and it drew blood. Like, it's the next day and I can still see the mark. I also tried to set him on my lap, and his tail poked me right in the ouch. Very spiky, very pointy, be aware.
The Next: When this went up for preorder, they did also show off their grey prototype for a Go! Kara Kuri Dragonzord. And I think the only other time they've mentioned it was when that same proto showed up at a toy show. I follow them on The Twiblies, and they talk about this line maybe once a year, if that, so my hopes are not high that we'll ever get it. But after handling this, I do hope it eventually comes out. Heck, with how much work I've been putting into redesigning Titanus, this feels like the company that might actually do something interesting with it, besides the mono-boot.
Overall, I cannot sing enough high praises about this release. It's a beautiful, well engineered, very playable toy. It is incredibly expensive, though. I just hope that if you walk away from this review with anything, it's that if you do bite the bullet, you'll be getting your money's worth.
Our QFTTF party is running increasingly low on patience for pakano's Attitude lol but hopefully we still have time to kick his ass into gear before he does something Too stupid....
Anyway here's our sorceror telling him to get his shit together and help defend the following, using fun and creative threats!
Idk how Silver’s part of the story would work in Archie since it hinges on him not knowing anyone, but I guess it could just take place before Hedgehog Havoc, especially considering the story erases itself at the end
im gonna be honest krafer i know The Iblis Trigger is very near and dear to your heart but idk if that would work in archie. having two conflicting reasons for why silver is time traveling would not work with the honestly very consistent and simple lore established for him in archie sonic. i do still think the traitor angle could be expanded and elaborated upon but you DO raise a good point about where this would take place chronologically in the timeline. like do we just want to go with when 06 came out in regards to released archie issues? at the Very End of everything? i welcome input
Request for a prnaddict!reader x ghost? You two just became pretty good friends, sharing things about yourselves. Simon shares his recent addiction to cigarettes when you just casually drop that you have a prnaddiction.
side note: Just left a function and its 2am. overheard this scenario unraveling in a balcony earlier. Am too tired to be horny so i left and now leaving this for u if you'd like to :3 goodniiiiiight~
oooo this is such a juicy idea!! also disclaimer, i ken that this probs wouldnae happen in the military where they restrict other soldiers on personal things like smoking but this is FICTION so i dinnae care :3
warnings/tags: simon x gn reader, smoking addictions, porn addiction, smut
it's a friday night, and the bar you are sat at is bustling with bodies. it was starting to get too much so you decided to step out for some air and a tipsy smoke. as you push the heavy door out, the nippy air sweeps in and instantly cools your flushed skin.
a soft sigh leaves you as you step around the corner and pull out your packet of cigs, sliding one out and holding it between your lips as you search for your lighter. once you feel it in your back pocket, you fish it out and spark it up. as the flame lights up your face, this is when you notice the mammoth of a man stood next to you, desperately trying to flicker his lighter to life.
he curses quietly and you look away, lighting up your own fag before silently passing over the lighter to him. he looks up, a black surgical mask hooked beneath his jawline and showing off a pretty gnarly scar across his face. "cheers, love." he grumbles, taking the lighter from you.
you nod silently with a soft smile before taking a long drag from your fag, holding the smoke in your lungs before slowly exhaling. you watch the smoke dance up into in the air for a moment before turning to the man next to you who's chuckling softly.
"like an angel sent from heaven, don't know what i would've done if i couldn't find a lighter." he mumbles as he brings the fag to his lips and inhales. you laugh quietly at his words, taking the lighter back from him.
"no big deal, glad to be of service." you joke with a smile, gently tapping the ash off your fag with your fingers. "i'd be the same if my vibe charger died." you mumble out, but the mysterious man hears you.
"that so?" he questions, and you blush as he turns to you with the fag hanging from his lips. "uh, uhm yeah. all got our own sin or poison, or whatever the saying is." you say, taking a long drag from the fag. he asks for your name, which you give him before asking the same.
once the two of you exchange names, you prompt him about his smoking. "so, addicted to nicotine huh?" you ask, watching him take a long drag from his fag. he nods silently, looking over at you as he slowly exhales the smoke.
"calms my mind and gives me something to do," he shrugs, watching the way you look away from his eyes. "and what about you? can't get enough of a wank?" simon teases and you snort.
"guess you could say that, is it a crime to love porn?" you question with a flushed face, unable to meet his eyes as the two of you smoke outside of the bar together and chat about your addictions.
simon looks back up at he night sky, staring at the bright stars before responding. "didn't say that love," he mumbles before continuing. "each to their own."
months down the line and the two of you are helping each other out - in reality you are only helping the other further aid their addictions.
simon is unable to bring fags now when he gets deployed as they pat him down and confiscate them. a mark now on his file from price to not let him smoke since he's been caught out on his addiction.
so to help, you'll send parcels with fag packets in bulk that he can hide in his room. he has a few secret smoking spots on base where he is sure to be alone and left like that for hours.
when he's back, you'll have him over and fuck him while watching porn together. he indulges in you, sometimes picks out videos that he likes and wants to show you which rots your brain even further.
oh and he fucks you so well, one of the best fuck buddies you've ever had. makes you cum multiple times before he's even got his cock stuffed into you. he likes to grab your jaw and force you to keep your eyes open while watching video after video.
it's a perfect little transaction almost that the both of you have, and no one bothers you about your addictions now. both of you realise that it's unhealthy and if others found out, they'd be disappointed but screw them.
Why is it I feel this shame;
autumn is a mountain’s shadow on a day of white wind.
In the pasania’s leaf litter,
unnaturally mature trunks bust forth;
branches, intertwined, seem sad;
the sky is filled with dead children’s spirits, twinkling;
just then over yonder above the fields
astrakhan interwoven become a dream of ancient mammoths.
…That day, between those trunks, intimate eyes,
sisterly colour, you were there.
Ah! Past days’ low flames flare up from time to time;
my heart, why, oh why, this shame.
- Nakahara Chūya, “Shame” from The Poems of Nakahara Chūya
Near midnight Draco yanks his front door open, wand in hand, suspicion etched all over his face.
Hermione stands on the top step, a rather sorry cupcake melting in her hand. “You didn’t come.”
She’s zipped into a little black dress with crisscross straps all along the sides and a swooping neckline he spends a breath too long gawking at.
“You never said it was mandatory.”
She wobbles on the edge of her heel, but when Draco reaches for her, she pulls back, scowling.
“Happy birthday.” She hands him the sorry cupcake.
He stares at the sticky mushy thing and notices a goopy swirl that might be a blazing comet on a bed of Slytherin green. “What’s that?”
“A Snitch. They ate the rest at the surprise party you didn’t show up to.”
His heart sinks. “I didn’t know.”
“Rather the point of a surprise party.”
“Who was there?”
He can’t imagine anyone showing up except for maybe Potter because she’s got some kind of magnetic pull over him. Draco suspects he’s suffering from a similar syndrome. Because, say, if Granger had insisted he show up tonight, Draco would have. He almost asks why she didn’t demand it of him.
“Everyone. My friends. Yours.”
“You spoke to my friends?” he asks, jarred.
“They were amused when we thought you were late. Then they all seemed sorry for me. Thought I was delusional for misinterpreting our relationship.”
“…our… relationship…” It’s not what she means. Of course, it isn’t.
‘Our’ pangs in his brain until it becomes rhythmic. A marching band beat of our, our, our.
His eyes wander. Her outfits are never so short, though they ought to be because Granger’s thighs are magnificent. He envisions dragging icing over them and running his tongue—
His face flames. “I’m sorry, Granger. I just wanted to spend my birthday alone.”
“Why? You love to be pampered.”
True. He grins. “Were you going to pamper me?”
A curl falls over her face as she lowers her chin, and he feels the burning need to tuck it behind her ear. But as the rest tumble forward, he realises she’s hiding. His chest tightens. He feels awful for making her feel small. She’s a mammoth in his mind. All five foot two of her. All the time.
“I don’t know why I came. See you on Monday.”
He feels like an arse. A tongue-tied, idiot arse who doesn’t know what to say to her and instead blurts out: “I didn’t want to spend my birthday watching every bloke at your party try to take you home. It’s bad enough at work. But when there’s liquor and strappy dresses and your thighs… I just needed a day off.”
“A day off from me.”
“From the side-effects of spending time with you.”
“Side-effects? Like I’m some sort of disease?”
“Probably!”
“Wow, Draco.” She glowers. “Just wow.”
“Nobody makes me feel this way. My palms are always sweaty. My stomach is in knots. I can’t speak properly around you half the time. It takes ages to focus because I’ll spot a lipstick stain on your stupid S.P.E.W mug and my mind launches into space. Like this fucking comet.”
“It’s a Snitch.” She steps forward, cat-like. Close enough to smell the perfume on her neck. His trousers are suddenly too tight. And that’s before she swirls her finger through the comet-Snitch icing and draws it to her mouth. “Butterscotch.”
He gulps. His favourite.
She drags her finger through it again, offering it to him. “Want some?”
His lips part and holy shit Hermione’s finger is in his mouth and he’s seconds away from coming in his fucking pants.
He tears back.
She steps forward.
“Granger,” he snipes like a spooked animal.
“Don’t be rude, Draco. I baked them just for you.”
Oh Gods.
She dunks her finger into the cupcake again. “Just a little more.”
“Stop.”
“Be that way.” She drags her finger between her lips and makes a moaning noise that joins ‘our’ in sounds he’ll never get out of his head.
“Ask me.” She’s looking up at him with her career confidence. Mouth wet.
He shakes his head, dazed. “What?”
“You said you didn’t want to see other blokes trying to take me home. Well, here I am at your doorstep and you haven’t even asked if I’d like to come inside.”
“Would you like to come inside?” he manages roughly, wondering if he’s hallucinating.
Hermione snatches the smeared cupcake from his hand and waves at the door. “It’s still your birthday for seven minutes. Think we can make them count?”
Blister Blight, the game I've been part of the art team for since 2021, is finally ready to go public and is now live on kickstarter!
The buzzword-laden way I've described it in marketing materials is "story-rich 8-bit action-platformer that fuses classic run-and-gun side-scrolling gameplay with a branching story reminiscent of modern roleplaying games," but this is tumblr, so I'd like to say what I really mean by that:
Did you ever play Mega Man X when you were growing up? Do you remember how cool it was to discover that the order you beat the levels in had unexpected effects on the remaining levels, like how defeating Chill Penguin made it so that Flame Mammoth's stage was all frozen over so there wasn't as much lava? Blister Blight is a game built from the ground up around that experience.
I am incredibly proud of the work we've been able to do with after-hours hustle on whatever time and energy we have left over from our day jobs, and we're officially ready to make it our top priority. Being able to work on games full time would be an absolute dream come true for me, and I really can't imagine how much cooler we'll be able to make this game when we can truly focus on it.
I'll be posting more about the game and my contributions for it for the rest of the month, but in the meantime you can try the demo for yourself and see what I mean! It's free on our itch.io page for now, and I'll update this post when Steam gives the green light to take it public there, too.
If you like what you see, or want to learn more, please check out our Kickstarter page and consider backing the game. I think we have something really special here.
summary: winters are hard but Northern wolves endure.
warnings: implied/non descriptive smut
This is just a short practice piece whilst I get back into the habit of writing again. It's not that good, but I still wanted to post it.
It is winter, and there is not enough food to put on the table. Even during summer, you could find food to be scarce in the North, but in winter, the coldest of the Kingdoms suffered most from famine.
The snow had not fallen for three days now, a welcome reprieve. And in this reprieve, you decided it would be best for your family to have one less mouth to feed, an act not uncommon in the worst of winters, unfortunately.
You arose before anyone else, stepping over the three sleeping brothers which you shared a bed with, and began to gather your belongings and nothing more.
You leave before anyone has awoken, quiet and sneakily, and do not turn back as you walk beyond the clearing and past the treeline. It is dark, and you have no light, but you do not have high expectations of survival. If the cold does not pick you off, some animal will, or some bandit or other. Perhaps, if you lived long enough, you would starve if you could not find enough food. Alas, you had your pack with furs on your back and a bow strung across your shoulder, axe and knife at your hip so you would endure for as long as you could, and you did not simply plan to just give up.
It was four lonely months in the woods, enduring snows and storms a plenty, when particularly violent snowstorm hits. The most violent you'd experienced yet. You were as prepared as you could be and made camp in your small, lonesome tent, and spent days in the dark, nibbling at your food rations and water, pushing away the quickly mounting snow in your waking hours and going mad all the while. You already were mad, you supposed.
You fall victim to a fever and are unaware of anything happening around you anymore. But you do dream. A dream of spring and a giant wolf with white fur and red eyes. Of a handsome, dark haired stranger with stone, solemn eyes. There are younger ones as well, happy and smiling, and they look just like him. They laugh and run in the green field, the sun bright overhead.
You awake beneath a roof. Furs are stuck to your clammy skin, clothes no longer covering you. You feel panic and quickly sit up. Your head is woozy, dizzying as you try to make sense of your surrounding.
Two piercing red eyes are staring at you, a silent watcher at the foot of where you sleep. A giant mammoth creature of white fur. A direwolf.
You cannot breath in it's presence, cannot find the air to fill your lungs as it stares you down so intensely.
It is only when the cabin door bursts open allowing flurries of white snow in that you look away. A man dressed in the storm steps in and slams the door shut behind him, turning the few locks to it and baring it. A prison? You wouldn't mind a prison. Perhaps without the giant wolf, however.
The tall stranger pulls down the cover to his face, a handsome one. The one of your dreams. He pulls off his fur hood and shakes out his dark curls and slowly pulls away at his layers, unaware of your staring. He was sent by the Gods, surely?
He looks to you finally with those dark eyes, a solemn and tragically beautiful face. You try not to look shocked or guilt ridden. You try to speak then, but words cannot find you.
He turns away, walks over to the lit fire on the opposite side of the cabin and stokes it, adds some more wood. The albino wolf prowls over, remarkably graceful. The cabin is larger than the one you have lived in your entire life, and he seems to fit quite well.
Both wolf and master are silent, and ignore you as he sits before the hearth and heats food. He brings some to you in your weakened state once it is readied, before returning to his place, staring into the flames.
A day passes, and he has slept by side of the fire, leaving you to his bed unless he comes to give you food.
A second passes and you are well enough to stand up and slowly put on your own clothes once again, freshly washed, you notice. He watches you as you do so, the first man to ever see you naked, though you'd shared a bed and room with some of your brothers.
The third day, you dare to sit by the fire when the giant wolf is gone. You wait with bated breath for him to speak, for him to make a move towards you, and you struggle to feel any fear. Oh, you should, you know that. Men are vile creatures and you are at his mercy. Yet you have been deprived of any human contact for months, and it's made your rather careless.
You return to the bed in the evening, and it is after you have eaten that he prowls towards you, pulling off his tunic. You know he wants your body from that look in his eyes, that he wants you. And who are you to refuse? Has he not saved your life, has he not given you shelter? In times of winter that is as good as marriage vows spoken before the eyes of a weirwood tree.
He mounts you atop his furs and rolls his naked hips into yours with deep thrusts, and though it hurts, you cannot help but pull him closer. His flesh is warm and you so cold, a dragon made flesh. His head burrows in the crux of your neck and he bites down and you love it.
He claims you over and over again until you no longer feel any sense of loneliness. He sleeps naked next to you that night in his own bed for the first time since you'd awoken here.
The Old Gods must have granted you your dream of spring before winter has even met it's end. And perhaps with your handsome stranger, you would see the sun shine on a green field once again.
comments are looked upon fondly here, so don't be a stranger :)
If it is Known that Ravi is never without the Staff of Magnus and also Known that he often visits Laf and also also Known that baby mammoths are fond of brandishing sticks . . . how many times has a baby run away with a powerful artifact
“And that is how,” says the Archmage of Winterhold, gesturing grandly to the Staff of Magnus, “after two hundred years, I found a walking-stick of perfect height. Snipp, snapp, snute, så er eventyret ute.”
“Most people,” says the mammoth-herder, “cut their own to size, Hrafi.”
“Now you tell me.”
Midday, and the rolling Hviting plains gleam golden-green. The mammoth-herder lounges in the tickly grass. Most of her beasts are browsing well downslope, rooting like great gardeners through goosefoot and sedge. They chew with calm deliberation. Only the two calves gambol nearby, trumpeting and treading on each other’s trunks—and turning, every so often, to make sure that their minder is paying attention.
“It is a good walking-stick,” she says, keeping a fond eye on the calves. The sun warms her shoulders. A sleepy breeze ripples through the grasses of the steppe. “And a good story. Wundorlic.”
“Yes, well.” With an embarrassed smile, her friend returns to his lunch. He’d bartered the bread from a passing drover; the mammoth-herder had supplied the cheese, and he’d mortared it all together with fascinating disregard for the proper way to eat anything. “Yarn for yarn. You’ve answered all my questions.”
“No small boast.” The mammoth-herder glances down at the Staff, propped like a broom against the Archmage’s bedroll and bag. It’s a twig like any other, she thinks. Only the blue flame flickering at its tip betrays it as a wizard’s companion. “You found it for the clevermen. Why did you keep it?”
“Had to,” says the Archmage, his voice somewhat muffled by sandwich. (That’s what he’d called it, though the mammoth-herder had witnessed no witchery in its production.) “It’s choosy. Burned my Master Wizard’s hand.”
The mammoth-herder raises her eyebrows. The calves trundle over, cross at being ignored; she coaxes one to her side, deft as a shepherd with a lamb, and scratches it under the chin.
“How does it—ouch,” she says, and makes a face. A wandering trunk had tweaked her beard. “How does it choose?”
“S’a matter of, ah, of might,” says the Archmage with a vague wave of the sandwich. “And—and stature, supposedly, and so forth. Far as I’ve read, anyway—oof—”
He goes down with a helpless laugh. The calf who had butted him tries to climb into his lap, finds it too small, and snuffles with indignation through his hair.
“Gently, lytling,” the mammoth-herder chides it, catching the curious trunk. The calf, out of the corner of its eye, gives her a martyred look.
Then it wriggles free and rummages through the Archmage’s packs. The Staff tips over. A kicked cookpot bounces down the slope. The Archmage, lying limbs akimbo in the grass, stifles an undignified snort as a few notes from his field journal flutter by.
“The mammoth,” he intones with mock solemnity, as if dictating to a scribe, “is a known vandal, and smokes like a chimney—”
“Might, you said,” says the mammoth-herder with a great grin, and plucks the man’s pipe from the calf’s trunk.
The Archmage seems disinclined to sit up. He pillows his head under one arm, smiling, and shuts his eyes. “Mm.”
“Stature.”
“S’what I said.”
“Why, then,” asks the mammoth-herder, not unkindly, “did it choose you?”
The Archmage blinks up at her. He’s wearing his squashed lunch. His hair sticks up in peaks where the calf had mussed it.
“I’ve no notion,” he says.
The calf, with a gleeful toss of its head, seizes the Staff and waves it. The Staff sends forth a delighted shower of sparks.