#isnt he just the most pathetic little man youve ever seen | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hikari-ni-naritai · 2 years

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sis... I gotta be real, I do not like Zenos at all BUT I havent played EW yet, is he better than in SB? To be fair I didnt like SB's story at all especially compared to HW and ShB so that didnt help. Help me see what u see in him cause to me hes the most boring edgy cardboard ever :[

like. im gonna be honest. if you dont like zenos in sb, its likely you wont like him in ew. the thing about zenos is that his quality as a villain depends almost entirely on how you feel about your own character. if your character is like, a True Hero, or begrudging world-saver, zenos probably wont appeal to you. he'll come off as a raving lunatic. his whole thing is 'we're basically the same thing,' in terms of the whole 'theres a gaping void in my soul that can only be filled with fighting on equal footing.' if thats not your WoL, like, then hes just Wrong about you and obsessing over you like a rejected suitor. i do think he's handled very well in endwalker, and every scene with him (ESPECIALLY one early in the story) is good! but it would feel less good if you think hes completely wrong about you.

but like, personally? hikari isnt a true selfless hero and shes not doing it because shes the only one who can. she does like, pretend to be selfless, in a 'fake it til you make it' kind of way (she changed her name to reflect her desire to become that kind of person), but ever since zenos revived, she and i both have been fucking DYING to fight him again. he referred to their relationship as 'friendship', and something about that like, stuck with her. he's basically the only person whos seen her at her most murderous and lived, so why cant that be a kind of friendship? to accept someone youve seen at their most unpalatable?

and like, yes obviously he commits atrocities to get your attention. its literally all he cares about. even without getting into endwalker spoilers, like, the shb postgame shows us he let garlemald get destroyed and helped fandaniel start the apocalypse and all he ever talks about is how much he wants to see you again. he doesnt know youve been in another universe all this time, hes just a pathetic man who misses you a lot and is trying to get your attention. a poor little meow meow, as they say. and i dunno im into people who will throw away everything in pursuit of their dreams.

and yknow like theres something else, every other enemy belittles you or underestimates you, but not zenos. zenos looks at you and he hopes youre everything he's ever dreamed of, and when you prove that you are, he like. REVERES you. youre the closest thing to a god this man could ever believe in. its a nice change from people who dont take me seriously.

anyway. zenos will never have the complex, layered nuance of emet selch and he'll never have a storyline about how the church is bad bc they wont let you fuck dragons like heavensward, but i think hes good. and i hope maybe you'll give it some thought, and play endwalker with an open mind. and dont forget, the most important part of zenos by far, is that if you are sexually attracted to him, you are doing it wrong. that isnt the point of zenos. and thats why hes made for lesbians <3

#ffxiv

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cloudbattrolls · 5 years

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Coward Mont Blanc

Maidel Juzuxt | Present Night | Derevnya | Octavian Musical Arts Studios

Everyone calls it OMAS, or Oh, Masterfully Aimed, Shithead if they’re not fond of Treble. Even if they’re on the list of people who won’t kick him out of a room after ten minutes, they might still toss it off, teasing, but with an edge of bile.

It’s one of the reasons you get along with him, despite how different the two of you are.

“So!” He says, plucking at his suspenders. “What’s got you in such a sulk, Maidel-girl? Or is it boy today.”

You’re in one of the studio’s dance rooms, one that’s empty at the moment since the next class won’t be for hours. Mirrors cover its walls, and overhead glowworm lamps dot the ceiling, giving off light even as they’re in stasis. Treble can feed, wake, and rearrange them at his will if needed for a choreography practice, as well as brighten them with the right formula.

Right now they’re giving off a low yellowish glow as they sleep, clinging to the gray ceiling. It bathes your face in a sickly cast, or maybe that’s just your mood as you stare into one of the mirrors, clad in a suit that you look absolutely horrible in.

“Boy.” You say, but there’s not much spirit in it. Gender isn’t very important right now; it’s part of your bigger problem, but only in a small way.

Sometimes you think it’d be easier if you just had no chest to worry about, and certainly sometimes you hate having to leave off your binder or worry about damage, the kind your psi can’t really repair fully.

Other times you think rumblespheres at least give people something other to look at than your face or stomach. Not that they’re impressive, but at least it’s something.

“What’s got you so down in the dumps, Maidel-boy? You nervous? Don’t be nervous, my cool cat! This joint will love you.”

That gets a small snort out of you, mostly because of Treble’s ridiculous speaking manner. It’s been perigees and you still don’t believe he can naturally talk that way, no matter how much he swears up and down he was hatched with it.

You turn a little, looking at yourself from another angle in the mirror, your hair pulled back into a ponytail so everyone can see your face. Great. You put a finger to one cheek, but lightly, to not ruin the makeup covering your freckles.

Treble leans in slightly, his eyebrows raised and ears flicking slightly. His aren’t nearly as mobile as yours, but you know what he’s thinking.

“I look better this way.” You say. “A little. Don’t try to tell me freckles are cute again, I’m not buying it.”

Not much you can do about your face in general. Your hair is okay. then there’s your body.

You’ve always been on the heavier side, and maybe that wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t look so stupid on you.

Highbloods being big fits them like a shell on a scuttlebeast. They have the tusks, the intimidation, the big sharp horns to go with it. Their fat doesn’t look like weakness; it only makes them look stronger, heartier, able to dominate.

You’ve been mistaken for blue twice, when you were wearing heavy clothing and goggles against the steam and snow. You were alarmed, then flattered, then a little depressed.

Treble just clicks his tongue and shakes his head like you’re a silly, mildly disobedient lusus. “Maidel, Maidel, Maidel. Even if you don’t like them, doesn’t mean not a single troll in that joint won’t! You got to be honest about who you are! That’s the only way to make your brand.”

It takes a force of effort to not remind Treble that just because he keeps showing off who he is to the whole world, (despite getting laughed at and kicked out of multiple places) it doesn’t mean you want to go through the same.

That’d be cruel; Treble’s odd, but he’s been kind to you, and it’s hard to hate a troll who isn’t any more good looking than you but so much braver.

Even if sometimes you wish you could.

“I don’t need a brand.” You mutter. “I just want to sing.”

When you’re finally on the stage, finally manage to forget where you and who you are and what you look like, that makes it all worth it. When you sing, you’re somewhere else, someone else. People have actually clapped for you before, and it wasn’t all just polite applause.

Treble loves to babble about how you could be the next big thing. All you want is to keep feeling that way for the rest of your life, even for little bits at a time. It’s enough.

He pauses, perhaps aware of the usual argument and realizing you don’t want to hear it. He almost chews on his claws, raising two to his mouth but he’s been trying to stop lately and drops them.

“Maidel.” He says, gentle, which makes the hairs on the back of your neck prick up. “Singing aside, you really want to have this sort of bad juju brewing in you the rest of your natural life, my man?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You say, trying to be dismissive, but dismissive from you sounds about as believable as a honk from a limeblood and Treble’s face is understandably if irritatingly skeptical.

“‘Course it matters! You telling me you’re okay just going ‘aw, nuts, I hate how I look’ for all your sweeps? You gotta change yourself, or - ”

“ - change your bulbs, yes.” You sound a bit more testy than you’d like, but he’s told you this about ten times before.

“I tried to diet and exercise for a whole perigee, Treble. Aside from making me miserable, it barely did anything. I lost three pounds. Three pounds in that whole time! I don’t know what’s wrong with my stupid, garbage, messed up - ”

“Whoa! You really want to hate yourself that bad, man?”

You realize you’re breathing hard, eyes wide and - in the mirror - you see a hint of orange in them.

Groaning, you cover your face with a soft palm, dragging your fingers through your curls.

“Olives are supposed to be lithe and muscular. Or else average looking, since everybody likes to say we’re the most boring caste.” You say, bitter. “Even being average like you would be better. Nobody thinks you’re ugly. They just think you’re normal.”

Maybe that’s rude, but you don’t care right now.

Treble plucks at his tie thoughtfully, but you can see a trace of pain in his eyes that wrenches your digestion sac. You’ll apologize to him later.

“Do people really tell you you’re ugly, Maidel-boy?” He says, curious.

You snort. In a way, that’d almost be better.

“Hardly ever.” You admit, and he opens his mouth but you wave a finger and press on. “They don’t have to! They don’t even notice me, good or bad, compared to everyone else I know. They’re all pretty. None of them would ever consider a troll like me to be an option in any quadrant.”

You sound pathetic, even to yourself. It’s not like you expect the trolls you know to date you, or that you’d particularly want to date them in the first place.

It’s how you’ve seen Riccin flirt, seen Pheres flirt, seen them have quadrants. Have people interested in them. Seen them know they’re beautiful, that they can get trolls just by being themselves.

Must be nice.

“So...what brought all this up from its deep dark spot, huh?”

You look at him blankly.

“Usually you’re a little down in the dumps, but not fit to yowl about it.”

You flush slightly. You guess you did raise your voice more than you meant to.

“I’m sorry.” You say, throat tight. You shouldn’t even be talking to Treble about this. He has a moirail, a teal who works at one of the universities. You have no idea why he takes so much time with you to start with.

Especially if this is how you treat him.

You’d rather dive out the window than answer, but you owe him that much.

“I have an ash crush.” You admit, and it feels like a dirty word, a curse. Maybe it is. You have to be cursed if you’re stupid enough to have feelings for Riccin, who’s practically a clown, and who’s never cared about you.

Maybe it’s some messed up form of self-harm.

Treble looks puzzled, and for good reason.

“So why’re you all torn up about how you look?”

Ash isn’t about that, is the clear implication. You almost laugh. If only he knew.

“Riccin wants pretty trolls in every quadrant.” You say, staring into the mirror at the disappointing image with a suit on a too-round figure. “Their kismesis and their ex ash are both little, skinny trolls, with pretty faces. And they’re close with Pheres, and he’s the same.”

Then there’s you, who’s as heavy as any two of them, not to mention that they think you’re dull as ditchwater. Even if you wanted to pursue this - if you were so blindingly stupid - how could you prove them wrong? You’d wear yourself out trying.

Not to mention that Vide would probably cull you. She seems like she’s still interested in them, and for all you know they might still be interested in her too. Riccin doesn’t give up easily.

“I think you’re feeling a bit too sorry for yourself, Maidel-boy.”

You glare at him, then sigh. He chuckles.

“So you got a hopeless crush. Happens to us all. Why let it mess your groove up so much, man? If there’s no worth wondering if you can, put your bulbs into what you are good at! Which is: belting out the tunes and making us both a little cash, hm?”

You snort. With Treble it all comes back to money or fame. Given how hard he works for it, you can’t blame him too much. The chances of an olive making it big - or even being an agent for anyone who does - are minimal. Somehow he still tries, still teaches and manages and performs, no matter who mocks him, no matter how many times he gets chased off.

“Okay.” You say. “Let’s go.”

#I was never huge into vocaloids but this song is good for Maidel #cloud writes #Maidel Juzuxt #Treble Octave #warnings for:#negative body image #mild dysphoria #and Maidel being a bit of a baby

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viralhottopics · 7 years

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Armando Iannucci on Donald Trump: ‘This is the best moment, isn’t it?’

An open letter to the new president, from the creator of Veep and The Thick of It

Even when silent, you sound loud. You are, in fact, an avalanche of contradictions: real and unreal, scary yet amusing, fact and fiction rolled into one like a little rubber Mount Rushmore blown up to actual size by the use of helium. You confuse us. We want to laugh at your stumbles, but are petrified by what those stumbles may lead to. You are the worst person ever; and yet not as bad as Mike Pence.

But you do have a definite sense of purpose. While Hillary Clinton hedged and played the game, you said it straight. Youve been very clear: deport, build, repeal, replace. Everywhere you go, you shatter ossified politics. You slice through frozen convention like an icebreaker: set on a steady forward direction, leaving a stinking slick of oil and dead fish parts in its wake.

It was worth it, though, because of where you are now. This is the best moment, isnt it? Just as youve taken the oath of office, but still not worn down by that office. Frozen in your moment of history. All those doubters, the mewling enemies and haters, are silenced now: you are the 45th president of the US. Thats a fact. Its true.

They used to tease you about your attitude to the truth, didnt they? All your post-reality fictoid-facts, like how global warming was a myth invented by the Chinese, how you respected all women without exception, except the greedy, grasping, ugly ones who were trying to suck you dry, how Obama wasnt born in America, and also how you put everyone right when you said he was.

And that rigged election: you had evidence the election was rigged against you and you were going to lose, and then, when you won it fair and square, you had proof you would have won it even more fairly and squarely had it not been rigged against you so you couldnt win so bigly. And now they say the Russians rigged the election, and you say the election wasnt rigged, it was never rigged, and youve been saying for months: it was never rigged.

Some screwball no-mark in some pointless department will end up saying the wrong thing about China. Photograph: Andrew Harnik/AP

Yes, you were mocked nightly by damp-souled liberals who joked you couldnt tell fact from fantasy. Well, guess what? If you now tweeted, I am the 45th president of the United States, not a single person would doubt you. Because its true. Youre the president. Fact! No scientist, no economist, no so-called expert can call you out. You are literally the most important man on Earth, in the solar system, maybe even the galaxy. Right now, everything in the universe revolves around you.

But then comes the hard bit. The bit after this week. The rest of the presidency. Thats the bit others say cant be controlled. Something will go wrong. Some screwball no-mark in some pointless department will answer a letter to an elector, and end up saying the wrong thing about China, or single moms, or car manufacturers, or dyslexia, thinking that theyre echoing your opinion. Then your enemies will report it, and then people will think it came from you. Then your press secretary will deny thats what you meant and blame the no-mark, and name her. Then the no-mark will complain about sexism or bullying or some such artificial crime. Then youll act big, go against expectations, and apologise to that person.

Then some other people, your enemies, will imply youre a pussy. Your staff who attacked her and defended you, will express annoyance that you are contradicting what theyre saying. Then the person you apologised to, well, shell get arrogant and say how upset she was by what happened, and then youll have to tweet what she was really like when you met her, how annoying she was, how shes just looking for a bigger job and a TV contract, and how youre going to ask Congress to look into that department she works for and find out whats going on.

But, even then, it wont go away, and therell be maybe a hundred other little, stupid stories like that which will never leave you alone, all because other people are fools and losers. And so one night, youll tweet something bad about China and single moms and car manufacturers and dyslexics, all in one tweet, and the whole cycle will start all over again, and take up so much time, itll look like that wall will never get built.

And so, for the next four years, youll try to do stuff. With luck, the next eight years. (If your plan comes right, the next 12, even 16 years, too.) But this crap will keep coming up, wont it? This not-smart, so-overrated nonsense from the false media, determined to undermine you. Theyll say youre mishandling foreign affairs, causing conflict and hardship, arousing enmity, bitterness and division. Its all designed to make people not like you, isnt it? But you can get round that. You will tell people, again and again, that they do like you. That everything else theyve heard isnt true. And it will work. It always works.

If a war breaks out, isnt it more efficient to persuade people that it isnt happening? Photograph: John Gurzinski/AFP/Getty Images

You will explain that the things that come from your mouth are not necessarily the things that come from your heart. You will remind people that things are true not when they are real but when you believe them. You will urge the media to concentrate on covering peoples fears and feelings, rather than the dull objects and information that clutter up their potentially beautiful lives.

Why dont crime reporters report that people feel a bit funny about Mexicans? Why dont economists measure how freaked out people are about what might happen to their jobs one day, especially if your enemies were in charge? Why dont the weather people point out, at the end of the show, just how everyone is feeling so much better because of the work youre doing, and how thats making them cope with whatever rain or cloud comes their way? Why dont newscasters show the graphs that prove that anyone who fires a gun in America might well be a Muslim?

Of course, the liberal media will have fun, wont they, doing their little crazy skits about how theres no need for reporters any more because we just have to say whatever it is we think sounds true. Over now to our Chief-Bad-Feeling-About-China correspondent; We join our crime correspondent live outside the home of a suspicious couple new to the neighbourhood who keep themselves to themselves; And thats all weve got time for. Join us tomorrow night at seven for another edition of What The Hells Going On? Unfunny. You havent seen these skits (they havent been written), but theyre just so lame, arent they?

No, how you govern will be so special, and so different from that pathetic portrayal. Youre going to bring into your administration a whole heap of talented people who will oversee a climate change in the way facts are considered. You will bring in financial experts who will reassure everyone that, no matter what the markets say, everyone is, in fact, fine. You will bring in law experts who will prove categorically that anyone who feels their civil liberties are being infringed are themselves infringing the civil liberties of the vast majority who voted to change them. And, above all, you will persuade everyone, especially those who tell you that you polled nearly three million votes fewer than Hillary, that you do have a mandate since you believe you do, and it feels like the vast majority of people believe you do, too. And thats evidence no money can buy.

Thats how you will govern. Properly, effectively. Why, if the economy goes bad, or promised laws arent passed, or a war breaks out, why spend time and money and precious energy dealing with those things? Isnt it more efficient to persuade people that they arent happening? Think what money that would save, putting dollars back in the pocket of every American. You will do a deal with the American people, a great big beautiful deal, the ultimate deal, and they will absolutely love it. What youve done is started a revolution, a movement. Youve taught people to believe not what is empirically true but what is emotionally true, which is a better truth. Youve set free the credulity of the people.

So here is another undeniable fact. Soon the consequences of what you are doing will spread throughout the world. And, once done, they cant be undone. Yes, you will be remembered for a very, very long time. Fact.