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zivazivc · 2 months

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Sorry if this has already been asked before but why did the band break up? And did they break up on decent terms? Do they still talk to each other sometime?

It has been asked before, I just never answered jshfbdjcbh I'm still piecing everything together and stuff is changing or getting tweaked all the time, so I'm always super hesitant about answering these types of questions, afraid that people will take whatever I say as the final answer. So basically what I'm going to answer now will already contradict what I told some people already. And maybe in the future the story might go a little differently too (although I'm pretty satisfied with the current events)

Uhhh, get ready for a long info dump. I didn't expect I'd write this much...

Floyd basically stayed with the band for 8 years (from 14 till 22) and got pretty messed up in the process. The rest of the guys are all quite older than him so I guess I could say they were more responsible, or at least had a better understanding of their own limits (also they grew up in this kind of environment or grew up aware of it, while Floyd was oblivious and naive about all of it) and while they do get drunk and do drugs often, none of them are really dependent on them. They are also pretty good judges of character and know how to avoid trouble. Floyd on the other hand drove in with no breaks and constantly got himself in trouble that the rest (mostly Les) had to drag him out of. He also developed bipolar during this time (in my story Floyd constantly fluctuates between being saturated and being desaturated because of this) and his manic and depressive episodes started getting out of hand after his teenage years. (None of them are aware it's a mental disorder that's making him act so out of character.)

Floyd was becoming miserable because of this and all of his problems pilling up, and started blaming Les for the way he was. Les never argued this which only fueled Floyd to blame him more. In the end he was getting so frustrated and irritable that Floyd constantly tried starting arguments with him, even putting him down and getting aggressive at times because Les gets very unresponsive and closed off during personal conversations (guy is a giant onion of suppressed trauma that Floyd is hellbent on peeling open).

Eventually there was one fight too many, terrible things were said, some objects flew through the air, and Floyd walked out (or Hed kicked him out, I haven't decided yet) with the promise of going home and never seeing them again.

So, yeah, it was very messy and Floyd was the primary asshole, even though he's not really to blame either...

But Floyd didn't make it home (was too scared to sneak through Bergen Town to get to the tree (i don't think i can judge him for that either)) and he just returned to the reckless lifestyle, this time without anyone being there to keep him safe. So if he was messed up before, this is the time period where he got absolutely fucked up. This is also when he got heavily addicted to sour worms. And when he chronically slept around (half the time just to get offered free worms or have somewhere to sleep, other times because he was having manic episodes and was feeling hypersexual). (This is also potentially the period when he had the two eggs with that techno troll, but I'm still thinking if I want that to be canon to the story or not.) During this time he also grew to become very anxious and his self-confidence went to shit when he was being himself.

Then after about three years of that, he bumped into Les at some party. He wanted to dodge him out of shame but Les grabbed his arm and manhandled him outside to talk. Floyd felt like shit about the way they had split up and tried apologizing for all the stuff he had said and done to Les, but Les wasn't having any of that because he wasn't angry at Floyd, he was just worried about him. Les is also insanely empathetic like Floyd, and he knew that Floyd never really meant any of it, and that he was just looking for an outlet when he was hurting. Also he does think he is to blame for the way Floyd ended up.

Les wanted to know why he didn't go home like he had said (because that was the only reason Les had even let him walk out in the first place). A few exchanged words later and Floyd broke down telling him all the awful things he'd done, and Les promised to help him, feeling insanely guilty. Floyd wondered if he was allowed back in the band but Les made it clear that the band wasn't good for him and that he was never taking him back. Instead Les helped him go though rehab. I don't think trolls have those institutions (or at least not many are aware of them or how they work (I'm sorry but I refuse to believe the Trolls world has internet and cellphones, Mountrageons can keep that for themselves lol)), so it was more or less just Les finding Floyd a job and his own place to stay in the middle of bumfuck nowhere where he had no option but to detox, and constantly checking up on him to make sure he was doing okay. During this time they grew pretty close again. Or maybe the better term would be that Les slowly started putting his walls down again.

Hed needed a while to warm up to Floyd again. He's almost as protective of Les as Les is of him, and he resented Floyd for the way he had treated him.

Flea is pretty phlegmatic when it comes to any sort of arguing or drama. He was casual about seeing Floyd again, they were never super close anyway.

And Liv, she left the band when she and Hed broke up (haven't decided if that happened before or after Floyd left), so Floyd didn't get to see her again after bumping into Les at the party. And I haven't thought yet if they'd ever meet again somewhere later in life. But if they did, I think they'd both be happy to see each other.

Anyway...

Floyd managed to detox and successfully kept the job for about a year, but then he became manic again and messed it all up. After that he returned to his nomadic lifestyle, but he never fell as hard as those three years again. In my story Floyd's life is a constant cycle of getting his life together and fucking it up and booking to the next place. And he and Les are trapped in a never-ending cat and mouse game where they're both trying to fix each other.

So, uh, Les and Floyd are still very close and see each other somewhat often...

(sometimes monthly, sometimes yearly)

Yeah...

I am so fucking obsessed with them I'm gonna hurl. Please take this song before I combust:

youtube

#btw the status of Floyd's and Les's relationship is forever set on 'complicated'#but they are as obsessed with each other as i am obsessed with them #the song is too soft and vulnerable to be something les would sing out loud but inside he does feel it #papa roach is nu metal btw. tho idk where this song stands exactly #trolls #dreamworks trolls #ex bandmates #trolls floyd #trolls oc #les #answered #my art #btw I am only self educated on the bipolar disorder from what i've read and watched on the internet so have that in mind #my intention is to be respectful but i might not understand all of it. especially not the personal experience of those who have it #i'm just some random nerd #so in a way you could say floyd was diagnosed by a nonprofessional lol #i stayed up until 3am last night writing this #today i made the sketch that is no longer a sketch #should i put this post under a cut? it is pretty long #long post

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deadscell · 1 month

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a long long time ago……..

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denim-wizard · 4 months

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WORST OF THE WORST ! ! !

#my special babygirl #my beautiful princess with a disorder #he eats sheet metal and needs his rabies shots <3 #I love this freak so much it's not funny #I mean what? nooo haha I HATE HIM GRRR #can you tell I went silly on the halftones for the background #anyways time for the real tags #eustass kid #eustass captain kid #one piece #captain kid #worst generation #realwizardhours #ooh yuh art time #please reblog this I spent so much time on it PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PL #tw blood #tw eyestrain #best of rottingmoss

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jaydhon · 2 years

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#lesbian #bpd splitting #bpd thoughts #living with bpd #spotify #borderline personality disorder #bpd #black metal #borderline personality problems #borderline persönlichkeitsstörung #fyodor dostoevsky #poetry #crime and punishment

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generic-sonic-fan · 6 months

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Transcendence

Summary: The Chaos Emeralds grant power to those with the will for them.

Seek all seven, and your conviction can reshape reality.

Word count: 4257

Metal Sonic remembers the first time he touched an Emerald.

(When he finally starts winning, of course. Or, at the very least, not losing. When his body is finally fast enough to obey his will, fast enough to steal the gemstone from where it lays before an organic hand can reach it instead.)

Metal Sonic remembers how it thrummed against his palm plating.

(He should feel nothing. Dr. Ivo Robotnik, as referred to on days he succeeded, or Master, as referred to everytime else, had removed his tactile sensors in a bid to shave more weight off his frame. What need is there to be precise when the aim is to kill and one’s entire self is the knife?)

Metal Sonic remembers the surge of energy. Emergency insulation systems had snapped into place, redirecting the chaos away from his processor and back into his chest turbine.

(Metal Sonic remembers a whisper.)

(A tugging from the deepest recesses of his processor.)

(But the connection is severed before it can form, discharged out the hole where his heart should be, just like every other burning spark he might contain.)

—

There is a first time that he witnesses Chaos Control. Shadow disappears from the battlefield and into a realm of perception beyond that which scanners can penetrate. There is no time to react, for an ordinary Badnik. The Egg Pawns are trapped in the span between milliseconds.

But Metal Sonic feels something. Behind. Above. In that span between milliseconds, he rotates around to face it.

But his body betrays him. He is not fast enough. Shadow’s downward kick sends him tumbling onto the rocks below.

—

“Now that’s a curious development,” his master says upon reviewing the memory file. “How’d you know he’d be there?”

Metal Sonic knows better than to reply to the rhetorical musings of a genius at work.

“You don’t have the sensors for it.”

Not anymore. Those were removed three defeats ago, outsourced to a handheld scanning unit that could be discarded upon entering battle. The modification had shaved off three whole pounds.

“Some sort of new tactical positioning calculation you came up with? Or a mere lucky guess?”

A guess, Metal Sonic replies over the data cable.

“Correct answer. Your operating data doesn’t show any particularly useful thinking on your part.” His master smiles.

His master’s foreign program retreats from his memory banks. The extraction drags its pointed barbs against the other segments of his operating system. Metal Sonic stays very, very still. The data cable is pulled without warning, taking a few lines of him with it, but it is easier to stitch over the tear himself once his master leaves the room than to mention the damage.

—

Metal Sonic remembers the first time he saw him use it.

His body has failed yet again. Sonic’s hand brushes the glassy cyan surface, and before Metal Sonic can lunge, there is a flash, and he is gone.

Behind. Below. At the bottom of the temple stairs Sonic stands and smiles.

“Pretty neat trick, huh? Shadow passed it along.”

Metal Sonic redirects all power to his turbine system. He shoots forward and his claw scrapes Sonic’s tan cheek before it disappears. Above, to the right. This time he doesn’t try to face the source. He maintains his trajectory and Sonic reappears to kick nothing but empty air.

“Okay, maybe it’s not that neat of a trick.” Sonic is still grinning. “But it’s one you can’t do.”

Metal Sonic swerves his head around faster than his programmed tolerances should have allowed him. But his wretched organic copy has unwittingly spoken the key. Other core directives fall away, leaving his consciousness with a single command. Maintain superiority. Remind the rodent of his match.

Metal Sonic activates his reverser and in the span between milliseconds he is flung backwards with enough g-forces to pop a few soldered connections from his motherboard. His body bludgeons into Sonic, knocking the Emerald from his grasp. It tumbles across the uneven yellow bricks of the temple, as they do. Sonic hits the floor first. His shoulder digs into a outcrop in the brick, but Metal Sonic does not linger long enough to hear a cry spill out. He jumps off and scrabbles across the floor, claws reaching for cyan.

It’s calling him. Ahead. Ahead.

He brings it into his palm and it thrums.

(This time it offers warmth. Warmth, like that of flesh and blood pressed against his plating. Ghosts of Amy’s touch where he’d held her as he’d carried her on Little Planet. Touches that had been erased from his files upon the removal of his tactile sensors.)

And the energy beckons.

(A whisper.)

But the surge protection activates, and insulation is slammed onto the wires running up his spinal column. The energy is expunged out the back of his turbine like it always has and not for the first time does Metal Sonic wish to rip his plating off to reshape himself. He chooses instead to use the burning for what little use it gives and takes off, shattering a hole through the brick wall of the temple.

He does not realize what he’s left behind until another shockwave joins his own from the ground. The rest of him wakes from its dream. Targeting protocols, force calculations, and kill simulations slam back into his awareness.

He’d turned his back on Sonic instead of killing him. But where he expects to find disgust at the concept, he merely finds the thrum of the Emerald, fainter now but still registerable to his non-existent sensors.

He abruptly changes course for the coastline and is able to lose Sonic amongst the waves.

—

“A success! A good long while since we’ve had one of those from you, isn’t it?”

Metal Sonic places the Emerald into Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s waiting palm. The man’s mustache twitches as he studies the crystal. His eyes do not dart about the many multitudes of reflections behind the glass. His hand does not shift around the surface in time with its pulse. He places it into a holding container.

“Well done. I’ve tracked Prower’s plane to a small soiree back on the mainland. Where there’s the fox, there’s him. I’ll allow you a free fight for once.”

Metal Sonic points to the Emerald.

“What?” Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s brows narrow.

He lowers his hand.

“I’m not going to let you hand Sonic back the Emerald when you inevitably lose.”

He shakes his head.

“No. Now go fulfill your function.” Dr. Ivo Robotnik grabs his shoulder and pushes him to the door. “I’ll be waiting to receive your distress signal.”

—

The biplane designated as The Tornado had been modified to utilize an Emerald when one was available to achieve supersonic speeds. And here, in this tiny municipal airport, unguarded in a hangar with only a feeble padlock on the door, is the plane. Metal Sonic grabs the padlock and pulls until the metal is twisted and useless.

His processor continues to tick upwards in framerate. His targeting protocols jump at shadows and his logic processing suggests a trap. Even as his cameras adjust to the light of the interior, he is still in the dark; he doesn’t have a scanning unit with him. He is throwing away an opportunity for an ambush and defying the mission commands on a “guess”. If he withdraws now, there will still be time to plan the encounter and explain the deviation in his flight path.

Metal Sonic crosses the concrete floor until his claws hover just above the red skin of the plane. He recalls the file where he’s attempted to codify the sensation given by the Emeralds into readable bits of data, but the clusters of numbers are hardly more than gibberish. There is no special calculation to generate more, no secret scanner setting to employ; nothing in the memory files to review, as his master so astutely observed.

The plane waits before him.

He tears open the engine compartment and yellow light floods the hangar. The tips of his claws scratch the crystalline surface-

(-and he hears music. Not being played from a speaker driver, but as if all the air itself is being plucked like a string, the sound too big to be contained in such a space. Echoes reflecting, twisting, turning off the roof and floor and spilling into the spaces between the boards of his central processing unit.)

(As if he is singing.)

-before alarms ring out. Metal Sonic snatches the Emerald from its casing. The song dies as the surge protection clamps down on his body. He bursts from the hangar and dives into the surrounding forests, weaving through trees until he hits the edge of land. On the beach behind, another trail of sand is kicked up before his own has a chance to settle, but its creator is forced to stop short of the water line.

Metal Sonic can’t allow himself to look behind until he reaches the base on a distant shoreline. He cuts his turbine, ending the brilliant ejecta behind him, and falls. His feet hit just short of the landing pad and impact the soil between superstructures. It is here that he whispers to the Emerald, some voiceless combination of coaxing and pleading, but there is nothing in response except the hot fire building in his chassis. The Emerald pulses weakly. Its warmth caresses his neck but can travel no further.

He presses the Emerald against his forehead.

(He presses the Emerald against his forehead.)

And he feels the dirt beneath his feet (coarse, powdery) and the wind against his skin (smooth, cooling) and the sun on his face (warm, radiating across his cheeks) and the music spills forth, softly bowed strings beneath the whistles of birds. He smells flowers (he shouldn’t) and tastes honey (he can’t) and there is nothing to analyze, nothing to calculate. His processor is still.

(All is well. He can understand this now.)

—

He reappears in his master’s workshop and clatters to the ground. He is assaulted with every variant of error warning that his diagnostic programs can bludgeon him with, but the codes slip past his awareness like the smoke billowing between his fingers.

—

“A chaos control.”

Metal Sonic awakens.

“You know, I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t checked the cameras.”

It hits him again. The weight. The analysis and calculations and scanning, scanning, scanning; no instances of Sonic the Hedgehog found, but that readout is not enough to calm the chorus. It all comes back and it’s all he can do to steel himself enough to keep processing his master’s words.

“Still- what brought that on? Did you even know it would work?”

His master’s program prods him through the data cable. Yes, he responds.

(There’s no data to support this conclusion.)

“. . . do you think you can do it again?”

Yes, he affirms.

Dr. Ivo Robotnik laughs, and laughs, and laughs, claps his hands together, and smiles. The workshop becomes a flurry of movement and somewhere in the carnage Metal Sonic’s head plating is unscrewed and tools jammed inside. He offlines himself to prevent any program corruption during modification.

—

He awakens again and it’s three days later. There’s an Emerald on the counter ahead of him and Dr. Ivo Robotnik waits behind a wall of thick glass. Metal Sonic stands. Checks his diagnostics. Surge protection has been removed.

He grabs the Emerald and it burns. Liquid hot fire spills overs his head and flames lick at the corners of his visual sensors. Where is the cool breeze? Why does this hurt? Why does-?

—

He should have expected this. The Emerald is nothing more than a new master. When he wakes and the gem lies in front of him, he bows his head. He grasps the crystalline surface and allows it to consume him. Change me, use me, he begs, and if it responds he hears nothing of it besides the scream of overloaded wiring and the dripping of melted insulation.

—

“I expected results.”

Metal Sonic sits on the table and stares at his original master’s feet.

“You are wasting my time. My valuable time, spent repairing a malfunctioning robot!”

He is slapped across the faceplate by a glove thick enough for the perpetrator to feel as much as he does, an equal amount of nothing. More words. The repairs have grown haphazard and his audio fizzes as his left audial sensor quits completely.

“One last chance. One, last, chance! Then we’re done with this silly little venture, and you’ll be taking a long vacation in storage until I can come up with a way to make you useful again.”

His master steps aside, revealing the taunting yellow glow emanating from the pedestal. The light from Metal Sonic’s own irises is refracted amongst the hundreds of edges within. He slides off the table. He walks, forward, enough for the glow to bathe his surface. He listens, not with his audial sensors. The hum is faint, but-

His master shuffles his shoes against the floor and coughs. Metal Sonic pictures snapping to him, clenching his throat shut, silence, silence, before he realizes what he’s done. Reprimand programs slam red over his vision; he disguises the shudder with another step forward. He can’t cling to the fleeting image as it’s erased, can’t create it again.

He looks at the Emerald.

He pictures his claw crushing it, shattering it into a thousand shards. No reprimand touches this vision.

He snatches the Emerald from the counter. The surge scorches its way through his arm and up his torso and when it reaches his head he clenches the crystalline surface harder.

(And he envisions it, envisions its demise, in the span between milliseconds, he takes it through every variation of shattering, the shards painting trajectories of shards across the workshop floor. It burns-)

(And he burns back.)

Like a whip he snaps his own willpower to the space ahead.

(A chord soars out of the Emerald, clean and crisp and clear in both audial sensors.)

A bright flash.

(He is floating. A bright light is behind him, but he cannot turn his head to face it. Something caresses his faceplate. It is the same area that his master had struck. This touch is. . . soft.)

And he is dropped. He lands on both feet on the other side of the pedestal, but diagnostics show that he has not fired his turbine to achieve this effect.

The Emerald pulses in his hand. Its burning creeps back up his neck, but a quick lash of his will cools the temperature to a level where he can process again.

“Well, well! Seems you finally had it in you!”

Dr. Ivo Robotnik strolls over. He reaches down and his glove brushes against Metal Sonic’s shoulder before he recoils.

“Hot! Hot! Good grief, how could you possibly be withstanding those operating temperatures?!”

Metal Sonic turns to the man. He locks his irises with the whites of his eyes.

“Well? Are you going to give me a diagnostic report? We need more data before I let you use this in combat with Sonic, you know.”

Metal Sonic teleports over to the computer and begins typing up his report.

—

“Bringing that, for me? What, you have a change of heart or something?” Sonic flicks his nose and grins.

Metal Sonic does not imitate his taunt. He doesn’t need to, not anymore. He clutches the Emerald tighter. Instead of wind blowing through trees, or useless lesser organics chirping and singing in their futility, there is only music.

(And he is humming along.)

Sonic charges.

(A crescendo.)

And Metal Sonic appears behind him, swinging a kick that connects to the side of his head. The inferior hedgehog flies into the cliff face. A rock breaks open, bathing his frame in a red glow.

(Like sunlight warming the surface of the water, this revealed Emerald offers him. Soft, like red sand between your toes.)

He focuses his intention and appears beside the red Emerald, plucking it from the shattered rocks. Sonic lies on the ground ten feet away. Vulnerable.

(playing dead, a whisper offers where his own processing cannot. Exploiting gullibility. Trained reaction. Disengage.)

Protocols scream against the action, but a quick burst of Chaos energy dulls their roar as Metal Sonic uses the power from both Emeralds to retreat.

—

“You marked Sonic was vulnerable there, didn’t you? Why did you not engage?” Dr. Ivo Robotnik points to the footage.

Metal Sonic cannot look to the screen- moving his head that far would unplug the cable feeding the very screen.

I’m not going to let you hand Sonic back the Emerald, he recalls the memory and projects it onto the screen.

“Yes, of course, and I’m certainly grateful for the extra Emerald. It’s simply. . .” The doctor puts his hand on his chin. “Simply that you’ve become better at long-term planning, that’s all.”

Metal Sonic finds the red Emerald on the pedestal across the room. It’s joined the other two. Four pedestals left. Dr. Ivo Robotnik unplugs the cable and Metal Sonic’s thoughts are his own once more.

“It was inevitable, of course! Eventually you would catch a clue- you’re my creation, after all. I’m grateful it was sooner rather than later.”

It was not your development, Metal Sonic thinks.

Dr Ivo Robotnik’s smile does not waver.

—

It’s difficult, having sensation. His fingertips buzz, searching for stimulation as if they possessed a separate processing unit from his own. It’s cold, within Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s metal walls and testing rooms. The air is dry, like a desert should be, or so the yellow Emerald tells him.

(It makes him cough, when he forgets that he does not have lungs.)

The white Emerald is buried under sixteen feet of snow in a glacier. When he retrieves it, he offers it a memory of the memory of sunlight, and it accepts not unlike a starving organic with a meal,

(mouth salivating, stench intoxicating, stomach throwing an odd equivalent of damage errors. Then a relief unlike any he’s ever felt before. For a moment, he is sated. Whole.)

The blue Emerald lies on the seafloor.

(It offers him darkness. True darkness of the visual spectrum, shedding the flickering of ultraviolet and the false hum of infrared. Scanning is impossible. In the one environment on the planet where Sonic cannot go, there is something called peace.)

(All is well, he understands again, until Dr. Ivo Robotnik requests a status report.)

—

He doesn’t need the handheld scanner to find the Emeralds any longer. Once Dr. Ivo Robotnik’s satellite scanners detect a positive, it is quick to search the hundred-mile radius. The prior three sang, their chords growing thunderous with his approach.

Something is different with this one. Something is wrong.

(Levity. He finds himself rising in altitude if he doesn’t focus on his flight path. The air is smooth across his skin, twirling around from his waist to his hips. Soft laughter.)

He has no skin. He cannot laugh. This is wrong. But the sensation of elation only increases as he follows his course. By the time he reaches the junkyard, he feels like he is glowing. Like his body is somehow part of him, not just a disobedient tool his consciousness inhabits. This cannot possibly be a sensation organics experience.

He stomps through the rusted metal plates and other refuse piled around him. He crushes glass underfoot, but he feels nothing.

(Incorrect. He is flying, but his turbine is not activated. The air continues to swish around his feet and over his skin in such an elegant way. Sing, it urges. You are brilliant.)

Metal Sonic grabs an I-beam from the hill of garbage ahead of him. His claws pierce through the metal as if it were just a flower petal, before he throws it to the side. The purple Emerald lies perfectly seated in a half-broken pipe.

He grabs his forearm as he did with the I-beam and holds it to the mocking gem.

(Is that who you are?)

Metal Sonic pauses.

(An identity, it suggests, is a distinction of one from another. It is something that is comfortable, something that does not prickle at your skin whenever heard.)

Metal lets go. The Emerald is lifted from the refuse. The robot turns the gemstone about.

Neo, the Emerald whispers.

(A woman’s voice is laughing. She is laughing so hard that she cannot catch her breath. Tears slip out of her eyes and run down her faceplate, dripping off her nose and onto her skirt. She holds the Emerald in her hands. She is laughing. She is crying.)

Neo looks up to the sky. She wipes away the memory of tears with her free hand, tucking the purple Emerald close to her chest.

—

The last Emerald lies in the possession of Shadow the Hedgehog, and it is against this opponent that Neo is not in any way restricted. Not so long ago she might have dismissed this small mercy as a trap, but now she is undeterred. She follows the scent of the green Emerald to a jungle thick with vines; through these vines cuts her target. He’s alone.

She grasps the purple Emerald tight against her palm but Shadow skids to a halt in a small gap in the foliage. He glares at the Emerald in his hand.

“Alright, I’m here,” he mouths. “Now what?”

Neo hums and teleports behind him. As his head turns over his shoulder, she yanks the Emerald from his grasp and sends all of the energy from his shock to her turbine, kick-starting her ignition. She sails skyward. Shadow the Hedgehog can do little more than hover above the treeline in her wake.

(This Emerald offers her the planet, glowing green and blue below the stillness of space Energy courses through her, both exhilarating and painful. Beside her is a person she trusts and above her is a purpose she for once identifies with.)

She accepts the memory with appropriate gratitude before pushing it to the back of her processor. She calculates the flight path back to the workshop and tears across the sky.

—

Neo brings the last two Emeralds to the room where the other five are held. She is holding her breath. Her feet are hardly her own. What she once called a chorus before was hardly a whisper compared to the cacophony of energy before her, caressing her, beckoning-

A hand clamps around her forearm.

“Not yet, my creation.” Dr. Ivo Robotnik purrs. “I’m still coming up with a suitable scheme.”

(Energy crackles in Neo’s shoulders, but she keeps it there.)

“If you go super, what do you think you could achieve?”

A question she doesn’t know the answer to.

“Now come on. To the table with you.” Dr. Robotnik releases his hold.

She sets down the Emeralds. She steps to the diagnostic table, but stops as her gaze drifts to the computer cable.

“Come on, up you go!” He smiles.

(Something has changed. Something has changed within her, something desperate and burning, and it is something that she cannot put out. The whites of his teeth flicker warnings in a language she could not translate to him.)

“Really? Malfunctioning now, after all this?” Her master sneers.

Neo pictures snapping to him, clenching his throat shut. Silence.

Just. . . silence. Not a single reprimand program blares within her processor. She refocuses her optics and Dr. Ivo Robotnik is merely standing there with his hands on his hips.

She turns around and picks up the purple and green Emeralds.

“Put those down!”

She walks forward to the pillars containing the rest of them.

(As they glow, so does she. She knows this now.)

“What are you-? emergency shutdown code - - - - - - -!”

She turns around. The plexiglass containers shatter behind her and the Emeralds lift from her palms.

“Override - - - -!” The man before her shouts. He then scrambles for the door.

(Heat. She burns brighter, brighter, brighter, scalding her plating and her processor, and everything else. Her optics fail first, followed by her audials. Her limbs lose power.)

(She gasps. Her lungs are on fire and her heart is racing. Each breath sucks in soothing cold air and she drinks it in.)

(Cool air swirls around her legs, except now it is more tangible. Her fingers travel to her thighs and find satin.)

(She)

(opens)

(her)

(eyes.)

She bursts through the roof of the base and shoots across the sky. She is a star in the night. The eyes of the world are on her. She sings.

—

She awakens in a field of green. The wind blows across her skin, cooling her from the heat of the sun. The air whistles through the grass and into her nose. The scent of flowers fills her. She exhales, and her breath tastes like honey.

She stands. Waits. But the sensations do not leave her. She scans the grass around her, but the Emeralds are nowhere to be found. The fire in her chest is gone.

“All is well,” she whispers, and thinks, thank you.

The last of their energy caresses her cheek, before disappearing in a mote of light.

She bunches the fabric of her skirt in her hands and makes her way to the treeline.

#metal sonic #trans girl metal sonic #sth #have a trans metal fic in these trying times! this one's very experimental. tell me how you like it.#tl;dr: the emeralds can trans your gender because I said so #tw dysphoria #tw body issues #(some nebulous self-talk resembling an eating disorder)#oh and #bad dad eggdad #like SERIOUS bad dad eggdad. like not-a-dad-at-all eggdad. sorry

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neurotypical-sonic · 1 year

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I know its a children's media and its not that deep but thinking about how mental illness and disorders would work or manifest in robots is interesting

#especially metal because like. yes they're their own person yes they have a personality #but eggman. eggman messes with their code and their very being nilly willy. its 2.30am so words hard but im thinking about it #i almost think eggman would cause metal to develop an entirely new disorder tbh #egg.txt #goodnight this time for real #cbed. created by eggman disorder

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staystrong2396 · 1 month

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Promise me you'll never leave

Follow you - bring me the horizon

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b1gr4tm4n · 4 months

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listening to black metal, sitting on my yoga ball, having a jolly vestibular time

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awetistic-things · 10 months

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goddamn this contamination ocd shit kicking my ass

#metal 🤮#my hands are so cracked and dry #literally splitting open cause of my hand washing #but the aquafor + eucerin treatment burns so bad 😔#contamination ocd #ocd #obsessive compulsive disorder

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scariercnidaria · 5 months

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i know theres no overlap between the ofmd and the metal gear fandoms bc the izzyhaters would all kill themselves if they caught a glimpse of the revolver ocelot fanbase. i promise you izzy is not nearly the evillest old queen getting scrunklified and babygirled despite crimes against therapyspeak twitter out here. literally my last war criminal boyfriend hypnotised my other war criminal boyfriend into commiting rpf identity fraud of his own, separate war criminal boyfriend. Among Other Things.

#the whole “v is a medic that ocelot gave dissociative identity disorder to so that he could rpf big boss 24/7” thing #does not register as a barrier to me shipping them. like babe thats the appeal i need these old men to kill each other like rabid dogs #you are going to have to try abit harder to make me condemn edizzy #ofmd #metal gear #edizzy #izzy hands #sorry i simultaneously stopped caring about ofmd the moment it stopped being a toxic old man yaoi iv drip #and also desperately miss the izcourse. at least it made me feel something #revolver ocelot #our flag means death

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xxintuitionxx · 2 months

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youtube

Check out this classic!😂🤣😂😁😆

Definitely not me from about a billion years ago,

Hippity hoppity get off of my property! Know what i’m sayin homie?!

@mkultragf hi!

#lets start a band called the brave little toaster #it will be industrial metal and trance versions of all your favorite taylor swift songs!!! hit me up!#i don’t really know how to play any instruments well #i think i may have severe multiple personality disorder but i’m self diagnosing so i later self undiagnose at my convience #sometimes michelle does things to me where she is the boy🧐🫢🫤🥰💜🤣😘♾️🛸👽#Youtube

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hatredmadeofgold · 1 year

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Raiden most definitely has Anti-Social Personality Disorder

— An essay by a fan who also has ASPD

Hello, my name is Pulsar and I was diagnosed with Anti-Social Personality Disorder when I was 23 years old back in 2018. I also study in the field of psychology and medicine, so I know a thing or two about mental health. In this essay I want to elaborate why I think that Raiden doesn’t just suffer from (complex) PTSD but also Anti-Social Personality Disorder and I base this interpretation on canon evidence, research I did on the mental health of former child soldiers as well as my own experience with the disorder.

In the following text Anti-Social Personality Disorder will be shortened to ASPD.

What is Anti-Social Personality Disorder?

ASPD, also known as Dissocial Personality Disorder/DSPD in the ICD, formerly known under the name Psychopathy or Sociopathy, is a Cluster B (the ‘dramatic’ type) personality disorder known under the ICD-Code F60.2 or the DSM-V Code 301.7.

The reason why I will not call ASPD Socio- or Psychopathy in this essay is that these terms have been obsolete since the introduction of the DSM-IV in 1994, the disorders have been merged into one disorder as well as the fact that the ASPD community widely regards these terms as the equivalent of a slur (If you do not have the disorder yourself, do not, under any circumstances, use these words. There are words such as ‘asshole’ that describe shitty people better than you being downright ableist in your choice of words. Note that the subreddits r/aspd and r/sociopath are overrun by illness fakers and people who refuse to get better, they do not represent people with the disorder really well).

According to the DSM-V, ASPD is described as the following:

“A. A pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others, occurring since age 15 years, as indicated by three (or more) of the following:

1. Failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviours, as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest,

2. Deceitfulness, as indicated by repeated lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure,

3. Impulsivity or failure to plan ahead,

4. Irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults,

5. Reckless disregard for the safety of self or others,

6. Consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behaviour or honour financial obligations,

7. Lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalising having hurt, mistreated or stolen from another.

B. The individual is at least age 18.

C. There is evidence of conduct disorder with onset before age 15 years.

D. The occurrence of antisocial behaviour is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.”

What the diagnostic criteria of ASPD does not list is that people with the disorder often times also have low affect, which is indicated by shallow, rather fleeting, inconsistent emotionality as well as a partial or complete lack of affective (emotional) empathy. This is likely caused by chronic emotional dissociation and is irreversible.

People with ASPD are capable of feeling every emotion, but the operative here is can, not will. Often times the emotional experience is reduced to feeling content, bored, apathetic and angry or irritated. Everything else is very much background noise that can be ignored with ease. Also people with ASPD are able to use cognitive (learned) empathy, but often times this is used to manipulate. Some people with ASPD are self-aware, either through diagnosis or life experience. It is possible to have a completely normal life with this disorder and people around the person with ASPD do not notice that they have anything at all, because we are pretty much capable of faking emotions very well thanks to great observational skills. However, this does not apply to every person with ASPD.

ASPD is caused by prolonged abuse, neglect and/or trauma in (early) childhood which likely involved heavy exposure to violence. Poverty is also linked to the likelihood of someone developing it. A genetic link is being researched but has yet to be proven to be able to cause this disorder without any of the aforementioned. The so called ‘warrior gene’ theory is pretty much bullshit, as it is argued that it can only appear in people of European ethnicity. This theory is pretty much racism at its finest and therefore anti-science.

Antisocial Behaviour in former Child Soldiers

“Anti-Social and Disruptive Behaviour

PTSD is also significantly associated with negative behaviour against an individual’s own family, the expression of anger and hostility to others, and self-harm (Burton, Foy, Bwanausi, Johnson, & Moore, 1994; Deykin, 1999; Deykin & Buka, 1997; Dodge, 1993; Dutton e al., 2006; Friedman & Schnurr, 1995; Golding, 1999; Joshi & O’Donnell, 2003; Lewis, 1992; Perry & Pollard, 1998). Research shows that former child soldiers have difficulties in controlling aggressive impulses and have little skills for handling life without violence. These children show on-going aggressiveness within their families and communities, even after relocation to their home villages (Wessels, 2006). In a qualitative study, Magambo and Lett (2004) reported that former child soldiers in northern Uganda mainly applied physical violence to resolve conflicts. Although the children sympathised with victims of violence, they could not even think of non-violent alternatives, reflecting an absence of adequate social skills.

Most former child soldiers have spent several critical years of their development in captivity, under the constant threat of abuse and manipulation by their commanders.

Most probably, this period affects the development of a personal and collective identity (Kanagaratnam, Raundalen, & Asbjornson, 2005). In general, children exposed to war and child soldiering show a strong identification with their own group (Gloeckner, 2007; Jensen & Shaw, 1993), and develop a worldview dominated by political and nationalistic categories (Feshbach, 1994). In the Gloeckner (2007) study, it emerged that the longer children had stayed in abduction, the stronger was their rebel-related collective identity. But it may be that their collective identification might occur post hoc after return to their home communities. Gloeckner explained that questions and discussions of family and community members about the cruelty of the LRA’s actions may activate a process of reasoning about what had happened. Former beliefs about ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ actions might clash with current ones, and in order to regain cognitive homeostasis, identification with the rebel group is aspired. Interestingly, this study showed a positive correlation between collective identification and reactive aggression (physical and verbal aggression and anger). In addition, Gloeckner (2007) reported that formerly abducted children with PTSD might be especially vulnerable to accepting simplistic models of ‘good versus bad’ – a black and white worldview, which is a known cognitive distortion. Although a rigid political view might be protective during exposure to war events, it might facilitate violent behaviour after returning from the fighting to individuals’ home communities.

Children living in conditions of political violence and war have been described as ‘growing up too soon’ and ‘losing their childhood’ (Boothby & Knudsen, 2000; UNICEF, 2005, 2006). Levels of conscience seemed to be significantly related to the severity of PTSD symptomatology, but also with negative schematisations of self and others and lower self-efficacy ratings (Goenjian et al., 1999; Joseph, Brewin, Yule, & Williams, 1993; Saigh, Mroueh, Zimmerman, & Fairbanks, 1995).“

- The Psychological Impact of Child Soldiering (by Elisabeth Schauer and Thomas Elbert)

“Behavioral Problems

Former child soldiers exposed to brutal episodes of war-related violence face a range of behavioral problems. In addition, post-conflict factors may contribute to varying degrees of vulnerability to adverse behavioral outcomes. According to Lev Vygotsky the child’s culture and community that he lives in largely affects his development. Vygotsky believed that important learning by the child occurs through social interaction.

For a number of years child soldiers spend time with adult militants under strict rules and regulations. The children were constantly exposed to hostile situations that had negative impact on their psychosocial wellbeing. The children’s thinking pattern and cognitive schemas changed in to more aggressive and violent direction. The children were indoctrinated to perform atrocities without asking questions. They witnessed the gloomy realties of war that made drastic changes in their behavior. The children who had committed atrocities in the past have high risk of developing conduct disorders or anti-social personality disorder and addiction problems if their mental health issues are not appropriately addressed.

In Nepal, Kohrt and his team in 2008 concluded that post-conflict factors such as stigma might contribute to adverse mental health outcomes. Former child soldiers in his sample showed significantly higher symptoms of depression and PTSD compared to matched controls even after adjusting for exposure to traumatic events. In 2010 the researcher Betancourt did a prospective study to investigate psychosocial adjustment in male and female former child soldiers in Sierra Leone using 156 male and female child soldiers. Over the 2-year period of follow-up, youth who had wounded or killed others during the war demonstrated increases in hostility. It has been reported that former child soldiers in Uganda had various behavioral problems and some of them were charged with anti-social activity after their demobilization. Over 70% of prisoners in the juvenile crime unit in the Gulu District, Uganda are former child soldiers, incarcerated on charges of rape, assault and theft.

Social relationships play a key role in child’s behavior as explained by the Psychologist Urie Bronfenbrenner. Nested interacting spheres of social relationships that determine individual behavior and well-being are the fundamental components of analysis in social ecology. When these children were abducted and kept in camps, they had no way of having healthy social relationships.”

- Psychosocial Problems Of Child Soldiers (by Professor Daya Somasundaram and Dr. Ruwan M. Jayatunge)

These to excerpts from two different essays on the mental health of former child soldiers speak for themselves. ASPD is also the only personality disorder that is associated with child soldiers.

Although Raiden had been in treatment when sent to the United States, it doesn’t seem that the treatment had been appropriate enough to prevent him from developing ASPD. It’s mentioned in the Metal Gear wiki that he had at least become ‘outwardly stable’, however, we can see from how he behaves in canon that he hasn’t processed any of his trauma whatsoever. To treat PTSD or any personality disorder, appropriate trauma therapy is required. This has obviously not been the case for him, as he’s incredibly mentally unstable and violent. Even the introduction of nanomachines in his body through the Patriots hasn’t prevented any of his behavioural problems although they did successfully suppress his memories of his trauma, as we learn in MGS2.

The way Raiden shows traits of ASPD

Shallow Affect and Lack of Empathy

Albeit Raiden is portrayed as an emotional person, his emotionality often consists of anger and aggressiveness, and he doesn’t seem to be particularly empathetic either.

In fact, his lack of empathy (and how he justifies his actions to himself) is even being called out by Jetstream Sam in the 4th chapter of Metal Gear Rising. He is also shown to have no reactions to allies dying (Emma Emmerich in MGS2 and Naomi Hunter in MGS4) and is just awkwardly standing there like a cardboard cut-out. While Snake doesn’t show or say anything in these scenes either, his stance is not awkward like Raiden’s.

Raiden is also often told to calm down by various characters throughout the franchise when he is reacting to things with anger or aggression to an almost inappropriate level and he never takes it well. Neither is he good with receiving criticism, and will verbally attack the person who criticised him.

Kevin Washington also calls him creepy for how Raiden describes the cyborgs he is killing like ‘walking vending machines’.

It is also said in the script of MGS2 that Raiden in general has trouble understanding other people’s feelings.

Failure to conform to social norms

“Companies like ours — yours — bend the law as they see fit. Why not bend it when it can save innocent lives?” — Raiden to Boris in MGR

The entire game of Metal Gear Rising basically encompasses this whole part of Raiden. He is seen to be breaking the law out of an emotional urge (which Blade Wolf comments on as well after the awakening of Jack the Ripper) because seeing the children in the lab in Guadalajara being turned into cyborgs against their will triggered him. We learn that he doesn’t act like this because he is some kind of hero protecting the weak (as he is always trying to tell everyone including the player for the first half of the game), he does this out of selfish reasons — to have a reason to kill. His morality is quite grey. Sure, he is on the side of the ‘good guys’ — but his methods are cruel, the style of an anti-hero.

“Not that much of a hero after all, right?” — Raiden to Blade Wolf after killing Monsoon

He shifts his morality as he sees fit — same as the companies he is criticising. Armstrong points out their “kindred spirits” as he is dying at the end of the game as well and we as a player understand that our enemy is right. To achieve our goals, we went overboard with everything and justified our violence — Raiden’s violence — with doing the ‘right’ thing.

Manipulation and Deceitfulness

“So it was artificial on my end too. It was just a game, not the real thing.”

Raiden says this to Rose after she confesses to him that she is a Patriot spy and it almost feels like a confession. The way he says it is very callous, unlike how he talked to her before (and he reverts back to his ‘usual’ self later on anyway), it feels like a ‘mask slip’ where he says what he truly feels. I think about this scene a lot and it makes me believe that Raiden did not truly love Rose until he actually lost her (MGS4). Basically ‘not recognising what you had until you lose it’. People with ASPD often get into relationships to get something out of it – be that getting rid of boredom, money or sex – and they go very far when it comes to faking emotions such as love. It is often said that we cannot love, but this isn’t true. Love to us is more of a conscious choice of committing to someone rather than an emotion and can be very mature when it’s honest. We are also very obsessive lovers, which can turn very toxic very fast if not self-aware and controlled.

Impulsivity and the failure to plan ahead

Stabbing himself to impale Vamp without thinking through that he is going to bleed out, quitting his job at Maverick without thinking through how he is going to pay his bills in the future and the entire ordeal that is the World Marshal incident are what I can list on top of my head where Raiden acts very impulsively.

Aggressiveness, Abusive and Violent Behaviour

In MGS2, Rose mentions that Raiden ‘raised his hand against her’ when she tried to enter his room. This translates to more than just a slap in the face (and even that is horrible behaviour when you are in a relationship) if we look further into Raiden’s behaviour across all the games in which he appears. In the same game we learn that Raiden genuinely enjoys murder. He asks Snake about it, horrified about himself, if he does the same which Snake denies.

In MGS4, Rose talks to Snake about Raiden and why they aren’t together anymore. She speaks about how he became a violent alcoholic (Substance Use Disorder is highly common in people with ASPD) as he was unable to cope with his traumatic memories resurfacing. She implies that he got into regular fights as well, saying so by mentioning that he came home covered in cuts and bruises. We don’t know for sure, but it is likely that Raiden also hit Rose as well but she doesn’t outright say it. She just states that she is scared of him.

“I am worried about him, of course, but… I am also afraid of him.” — Rose about Raiden in MGS4 If you look closely at the scene in which Snake mentions Raiden’s family in MGS4, you get a quick glimpse of Raiden trying to hit Snake — only to break down and fall to his knees, crying. His willingness to physically assault people who are close to him is another one of these signs that speak for ASPD in him.

“Resolving everything with violence, is that it, Raiden?” — Sam to Raiden in MGR

“Feasting on the insides of your enemies?” — Monsoon to Raiden in MGR

Both Sam and Monsoon call out Raiden for his violence in MGR and how he justifies his actions with ‘protecting the weak’ which we learn in the same chapter, is a load of bullshit. Raiden confesses that he fights for the pain he feels — or likely, the adrenaline rushes one gets from it — when being hurt in a fight, that protecting the weak was a lie he told himself to ‘keep himself in check’ and that he thought that he could live a normal life, with his friends and family having his back. However, this didn’t work out and he found himself back on the battlefield and we finally learn why and the reasons are just as shallow as the rest of him.

Reckless disregard of the safety of self or others

Raiden’s recklessness in MGS4 could also be read as suicidal ideation, which is also something a lot but not all people with ASPD experience. Impaling himself and cutting off his own limbs are things I would consider ‘reckless disregard for the safety of self’ as he does this without thinking things through. In his fight with Vamp he definitely didn’t want to die in the end, so I suspect this to be him not thinking things through (which he does a lot, acting on impulses). The same goes for his wish to walk through the microwaves instead of Snake (and god I wish he would’ve gone instead of Snake), which Snake points out is suicidal and that he has a whole life to live still.

In MGR, Raiden decides to eradicate World Marshal, the largest PMC in the universe at the time of the game, entirely by himself. He raids its Headquarters with total disregard for his own safety or that of others, as he is just ‘lucky’ that the parts of Denver he is getting through, are blocked off from the public. Raiden doesn’t harm civilians — but he doesn’t particularly care if they die either. We know he’s lying to himself about being the good guy. Although his team is unofficially supporting him, he has no backup in case something happens.

Consistent Irresponsibility

Raiden is shown to be consistently irresponsible. He doesn’t hold himself accountable for his actions by lying to himself about his morality and basically gaslighting himself and others about his behaviour. He doesn’t listen to work instructions — Kevin calling him out in the first chapter of MGR for it — and therefore fails missions. He is also shown to constantly argue with the colonel in MGS2, always trying to get out of the situation he is being put into and not taking responsibility.

Lack of Remorse

In MGS2 we learn that Raiden enjoys murder without feeling any particular hard feelings about it. He is terrified about the realisation but doesn’t feel any particular feelings of guilt for it. Neither does he ever mention that he regrets having physically or emotionally harmed Rose in any of the games he appears in (Rose has issues too — they both definitely act like nothing bad ever happened between them at the end of MGS4 and I wish them both a nice stay in the psych ward).

Raiden’s justification to kill in MGR is to ‘protect the weak’ which later turns out to be a complete lie he tells himself and others to seem like the good guy. He’s very much gaslighting himself into believing this throughout the game until Sam and Monsoon confront him about his behaviour and hypocrisy and Raiden drops the mask and reveals his true intentions: that he fights to feel pain in battle, because he gets high on it and that he very much enjoys murder.

“Who protects the weak from the man who ‘protects the weak’?” — Monsoon to Raiden in MGR

In MGR you can also cut off the clothes of civilians you saved. If you do so, your teammates call you out for it. Raiden then does half assed apologies for it, even laughs when being called a nasty creep. He genuinely finds it funny to apparently terrify innocent civilians and doesn’t show any remorse when being called out for it.

Summary

Looking back, Raiden does show many traits of a person with Anti-Social Personality Disorder throughout all the games in which he appears. Although MGR is a lot more “in-your-face” with it, the mainline games show him having those traits very much as well (to be diagnosed one must meet 3 out of 7 listed criteria points, so even if you regard MGR as non-canon, he would still meet the criteria from what we learn from the mainline games). The fact that a lot of former child soldiers struggle with this disorder as adults adds to my theory that he has it. I often see people argue that MGR was not the direction that they would like to see Raiden go and that he is too ‘brutal’. In my opinion, MGR was the more realistic ending for him. I have ASPD and I know that white picket fence home lives just don’t work for people like us. We grow so bored, we start to fuck up shit for ‘fun’ and ruin our lives that way or get addicted to drugs. Raiden choosing the battlefield, finally accepting who he really is (‘Jack the Ripper’), is the more realistic and healthier ending for him than him just lying to himself and being on edge all the time, potentially ruining his marriage that way in the span of a year or two. Love cannot heal extreme childhood trauma, sorry guys. And Raiden seriously needs therapy.

#Raiden #Raiden mgs #Raiden mgr #mgs #mgr #metal gear solid #metal gear rising #mgrr #redrage writing #aspd #anti social personality disorder #antisocial personality disorder #solid snake #rose mgs #my thoughts #my writing #golden writing #golden thoughts

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