#or about ask cueball

[bgsartcavern]

My side of the art trade with @pinktrashgoblin, of Blixer from their AU JSAB:BM!! Had a lot of fun with this and used it as an excuse to try out some lighting. Go read their comic!

(Reblog don't repost!)

#my art #art #bgs art cavern #jsab #just shapes and beats #digital art #blixer #jsab blixer #jsab broken melodies #jsab bm blixer #others aus #art trade #also sorry for not posting anything for a While #most of what I've been drawing has either been too sketchy (as in unpolished sketches!!) or too personal for me to really want to post lol #and loyal followers i have not forgotten about that 1k note redraw i promised #or about ask cueball #i will get to them when i can i prommy

[ask-cueball]

To be continued...!

-END OF CHAPTER 1-

#orbot and cubot #sonic the hedgehog #orbot #ergo #ask cueball #end of chapter #art #comics #plot #((a more extensive credits list is coming! as well as talk about how we're gonna head towards chapter two)) #((but for now. kind of a cliffhanger :3))

[yesterdays-xkcd]

But one of the regulars in the channel is a girl!

Pix Plz [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

[Black Hat stands in the entrance to Cueball's room, the door broken down. A surprised Cueball has turned away from his computer to face him.] Black Hat: Hi. I'm here about the girl who visited your IRC channel last night looking for Java help. Cueball: What did you do to my door?

Black Hat: When someone with a feminine username joins your community and you say "OMG a woman on the Internet" and 'jokingly' ask for naked pics, you are being an asshole. You are not being ironic. You are not cracking everybody up. You are the number one reason women are so rare on the Internet. Black Hat: At least, the parts of it you frequent.

[A woman enters the room, holding some sort of device.] Black Hat: As someone who likes nerdy girls, I do not appreciate this. I'm here to ban you from the Internet. The gal behind me with the EMP cannon is Joanna - she'll be assigned to you for the next year. Try to go online and she'll melt your PC. Cueball: Dude, she's hot. Is she single? Black Hat: Joanna, fire.

#xkcd #xkcd 322 #pix plz #webcomics #2000s #2007 #a classic

[todays-xkcd]

In addition to 'squishy', after reviewing my submitted intraplate ground motion data, the National Geodetic Survey has politely asked me to stop using the word 'supple' so often when describing Midwestern states.

Minnesota [Explained]

Transcript

[Hairy standing in front of Ponytail and Cueball, who are sitting behind a desk] Hairy: Does anyone have any other concerns? Cueball: I'm concerned that Minnesota is getting shorter.

[A map of Minnesota beside Cueball, with arrows pointing from the northern and southern borders towards the middle] Cueball: Because of post-glacial crust rebound, the northern border is moving toward the southern border. It's less than an inch a decade, but I still don't like it. Cueball: Minnesota shouldn't be squishy.

[Hairy again standing in front of Ponytail and Cueball at the desk. Ponytail is looking at Cueball, whose finger is now raised in the air, gesturing] Hairy: Okay. Does anyone have any concerns related to the topic of this meeting? Cueball: All meetings should be about Minnesota until we resolve this.

#xkcd #xkcd 2887 #minnesota #webcomics #post-glacial rebound #geology

[gallusrostromegalus]

So, I am begging you here, pls tell me that Ikkaku and Yumichika are still bffs on this AU. I need the violent miss- and yet perfectly matched bastards to still be forever ride-and-die with each other.

Also, all the dropped tidbits relating to Yumichika are gold and I am hoarding them like a squirrel hoards his nuts for winter.

They are actually, for real, legally married.

Ikkaku was 500% ready to fight the entire Gotei-13 when he took the 628-year old marriage certificate he and Yumichika had gotten in 72 North to the Seireitei Records Office to be honored.

Instead, the sole hiccup in the process was the young lady behind the counter asking him to spell Yumichika's surname for her as this document seems to have been... stained, at some point.

"-That's not... Blood, is it?" She asks, concerned.

"Uh. It's actually. Um. Soy Sauce." Ikkaku mumbles.

It would have been less embarrassing if it had been blood.

Turns out, Gay marriage- and indeed, divorce, or changing your name, or gender, or becoming the third, fourth or seventeenth parent/legal guardian to a kid is a nonissue in soul society, because someone complained *once* and Yamamoto declared that, one, he didn't care, and two, the rest of the military commanders were hired off death row, and *this* is what you're complaining about? Fuck off.

But here are some Yumichika Fun Facts:

Everyone in the 11th division has really, really good personal hygiene and well-cared for hands, feet and nails because Yumichika's mother was a doctor at a rural hospital and put the fear of dysentery, cholera, pneumonia, tetanus, sepsis, trench rot and necrosis into him even more than fear of the gods, and he very much continued this sanitary evangelism.

Yumichika's other mother was a drag queen at the brothel that adjoined the hospital and taught him all about hair, makeup, poisons, manners, alley fights, how to play the shamisen, how to make a knife out of anything, flower arrangement and how to curse the hell out of a motherfucker of it comes to that.

Kubo was wrong Yumichika looks out for all his sisters not just his cis-ters.

Kenpachi was friends with Yumichika before either of the ever knew Ikkaku. He met Yumichika shortly after adopting Yachiru when Yumichika saved him from drowning in the river that ran through his home village.

Kenpachi asked Yumichika what he could do in gratitude for saving his life, and Yumichika, seeing his sword, asked if Kenpachi could "give him a real fight, for once"

They had a jolly little scrap that left Yumichika in the hospital for three months, an almost insatiable lust for battle, and a permanent bald scar on the edge of his eyebrow, which is where he glues the decorative feathers he wears.

It also got him (lovingly) told to move out and make his way in the world.

Yumichika met Ikkaku some years after that, when the theater/brothel he was working at hired Ikkaku on as an Emcee and a comedy act in his own right.

Ikkaku loves making people laugh and is damn good at it.

Yumichika was already considering making a move on him when a heckler pulled a sword on Yumichika during his act and Ikkaku beat the shit out of him with a chair without a second thought, and Yumichika decided he was going to seduce and marry this bald little maniac then and there.

It still took the better part of six months, because Ikkaku was convinced that Yumichika was "Way out of his league" and "He's just being friendly to a coworker!".

Things finally became clear when, having reached a boiling point of sexual frustration, Yumichika challenged Ikkaku to a duel, beat the hell out of Ikkaku with Kujaku, and screamed his feelings directly into Ikkaku's face.

"Oh." Said Ikkaku. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I'VE BEEN SAYING THINGS AND SHOWING YOU THINGS AND SITTING IN YOUR LAP AND KISSING YOU FOR SIX MONTHS YOU FUCKING MORON."

"...I may be stupid."

"At least you're also cute. C'mere you sexy cueball."

-and they have been blissfully if dramatically wedded since.

It was many years after that that they had moved on to a different brothel as a duo floor show act, when they got to talking to some of the other working girls about their travels and Yumichika tells the story of how he got his eyebrow scar saving a real freak of a guy from drowning after he got stabbed by a river stingray, but then he challenged him to a fight because- well, he was young and cocky and a small fish, but in a tiny pond- and promptly got his ass beat.

"That's wild!" Says Ikkaku. "I also challenged a random freak with a stingray scar on his leg to a fight because I was bored and- all due respect to you and Kujaku, my beloved - but he gave me a thrashing the likes of which I'd never had before or since. He had his daughter with him was the weird part- he was a real big bastard, face like a cliff, but his girl was this adorable little pink thing."

Yumichika sits up, frowning. "-seven feet tall in socks, big vertical scar on the right side of his face?" He asked, gesturing to his own.

Ikkaku put his drink down and pointed at Yumichika "-and bells in his hair! You fought Zaraki Kenpachi too??"

"Yes! What the hell?" Yumichika laughed. "I wonder where he is now..."

"Oh Gods, he had the WORST sense of direction! He's probably managed to walk in and back out of the Soul King's palace on accident!" Ikkaku giggled

"Well, if he's the same seven foot tall sword bastard with the scarred face and pink little girl on his shoulder as the seven foot tall sword bastard with the scarred face and the pink little girl on his shoulder standing out in the street looking lost as hell, you can go ask him." Said their coworker Sachiko, pointing to the giant standing not a dozen feet away.

"Look Ken-chan! It's YuYu and Baldy!" Yachiru giggled.

"Yachiru!" Yumichika gasped, delighted.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!" bellowed Ikkaku.

"YOU AGAIN!" Zaraki bellowed, ecstatic. " BEEN A FEW YEARS, LET'S SEE HOW MUCH YOU LEARNED!!"

Ten minutes of incredible violence, twelve minutes of evading the police and twenty-one minutes of getting lost on the way back to the brothel, a bloodied but still standing Yumichika was explaining to the Madame that the giant bastard carrying the unconscious half of her prized floor show duo behind him was, in fact, an old friend of theirs whom she should absolutely hire as a bouncer, you can see how effective he is!

Madame Tsubaki, who recognizes incredible spiritual power and fighting potential when she sees it, and who is still very petty about the divorce from her husband the Shinigami Captain-General, allows herself to be persuaded.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfiction #yumichika ayasegawa #ikkaku madarame #kenpachi zaraki #yachiru kusajishi

[pastafossa]

🎄The Biggest Tree In All The Kitchen 🎄 (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic)

Right so despite the craziness of the plagiarist and the BIGGEST BLIZZARD MY CITY HAS EVER SEEN IN ITS HISTORY, I managed to get this done! As promised, Matt and TRT’s Reader deserve a goddamn Christmas tree, and you all deserve some fluff after the rough few chapters we’ve just hit in TRT!

Rating: SFW, some language and slight innuendo and a few kisses, but other than that, just fluff and humor and Matt being absolutely determined to get you the biggest goddamn tree he can find and Foggy’s Christmas movie/ references. Wordcount: 5,855, you are going to get FED. Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader. Specifically TRT’s reader, but the fic isn’t required reading. Just know you haven’t had a Christmas in a very long time due to Enhanced Abilities reasons.

The second Matt heard your heart skip, he made his decision.

“What do you mean, ‘it’s not a big deal?!’” Foggy bellowed, throwing his hands up as you circled the pool table for your next shot. “It’s absolutely a big deal!”

“It’s just a tree, Foggy.” You wrinkled your nose while lining up your next shot. “Ciro’s daughter was allergic, so we had a fake one. After I left at eighteen, I never saw the point of getting one if there was no one but me around. It’s not like it bothers me.”

Lie.

Matt, waiting at the bar for all of your drinks, tipped his head as he listened. Slowly, a devious plan began to form in his mind.

“I’m with Foggy. I call bullshit,” Karen laughed, her shirt rustling as if she’d just crossed her arms. “We’ve all seen you stopping at windows that had Christmas trees.”

“You look like a puppy staring up at a cookie jar,” Foggy sighed. “Tell me you and Matt are getting a tree for your first real Christmas together. I’ve seen your ceilings. You could fit a giraffe in there.”

“Or a giraffe-sized tree,” Karen snickered.

You shrugged one shoulder, eyeballing your next shot. “I figured we’d get one of those little plastic ones and put our ornaments on it. I haven’t really thought about getting a big one.”

Lie.

“I swear to God,” Foggy said grimly, “if I walk in there and see some sad little Charlie Brown plastic tree, we cannot be friends. Just admit you want a big tree.”

You took your shot, your stick sliding smoothly forward. The crack of the cueball rang out a moment later. “I admit nothing outside a court of law.”

“Or inside the court, let’s be honest,” Karen said, biting her lip. That turned into another snicker when you rolled your eyes without actually denying it.

“Swear!” Foggy demanded, jabbing a finger towards the bar where Matt stood. Matt helpfully waved. “Swear on Matthew!”

You snorted. “Foggy, I do not—”

Lie.

“—want—”

Lie.

“—a big Christmas tree.”

Huge lie.

Matt frowned.

“Besides,” you said, moving to your next shot. “All I need for Christmas is Matt and you guys. That’s all I need to be happy.”

Truth.

His lips quirked up in a little smile.

Foggy sighed. “That was sappy, even for you. Get it? Sappy? It’s because you’ve got Christmas sap inside you, I just know it. You’re one step away from dancing yourself into a Christmas movie.”

“Hey, Joe,” Matt asked, tilting his head at one of the regulars at the bar. “Do you know if those guys with the Christmas trees have set up on 43rd yet?”

“Think so,” he grunted, reaching up to scratch at his beard. “Saw them hauling their shit by earlier. Got some big fuckers this year.”

Perfect.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he hummed as he crawled up over your blanket-covered form, dropping a fond kiss here and there to the blankets as if it were your skin.

You let out a muffled grunt but didn’t otherwise stir, buried somewhere beneath the mountain of blankets. Like this, to his senses, you were a sleepy lump, only vaguely shaped like yourself, and a lump that barely moved even when he straddled your waist. Or what he thought was your waist, anyway; it was a little hard to tell, even with his senses. He’d already tried and failed to lure you out with the scent of coffee, which meant it was time for a more serious attempt.

He leaned forward to nuzzle at what felt like your head, a sleepy growl buzzing beneath him. It took him a minute to get the angle just right as he hunted for where the heat from your breath had warmed the blankets, but eventually, he managed to orient on just how you were laying. Then he veered off to the side, aiming for what he hoped was your ear, and murmured, “I know you’re awake.”

“Birds are awake,” came the muffled, grumpy reply. “The love of my life is awake. I am not awake. ‘S eight. Come back at nine when I’m open.”

He snorted, rearing up and grabbing the blankets. Before he could so much as tug, you’d burrowed in deeper. From there it became a tug of war, as he yanked and you squirmed around beneath him, the motion oddly familiar.

“You… are you rotating—” he laughed in disbelief, and you were, growling and spinning, rolling over and over again like a rotisserie chicken, winding the blankets around yourself. A moment later he lost the blankets as the edge was yanked underneath you, every last blanket on the bed now wound around you.

“Checkmate,” you said, your smugness losing some of its impact now that you were shaped like a particularly large and beloved burrito.

He shifted around until he could pick up the massive, fuzzy cocoon you’d become. Your noise of protest was muffled, but he ignored you, settling himself back against the headboard with your blanket cocoon in his arms. But that was fine; he knew exactly how to lure you out.

“I suppose we could stay in today,” he said innocently. “I may have had something planned, but it’s not important.”

The you-shaped blanket cocoon vibrated, as if mildly curious. “…Planned?

There it was. You could never resist that tone.

“Mhm.” He sighed theatrically so that you could hear him. He had you on the line. Now he just had to reel it in, very slowly. He adjusted you until your blanket-covered legs lay over his, your body tipped sideways to lay against his chest. “I thought maybe we could go out and do a little shopping.”

You grumbled, settling in as if you were determined to fall asleep again. “‘S too early. Shops are closed.”

“Not this one.” He laid his head atop yours, and with your head still covered in blankets, there was no way for you to see his grin. Still, he kept his tone innocent as you squirmed around, getting comfortable. “Besides, Foggy told me all the good trees go early.”

The rustling went still, and even beneath all the blankets, he heard your heart start to race.

“…Tree?” you said hopefully. And yet the barest edge of skepticism lingered beneath the word as if you couldn’t quite believe you’d heard him right. “Like… a real tree?”

“Real as I can find. They open at nine.” He rolled one shoulder, his smile softening. He wound his arms around you a little tighter. “I thought we could… go look for one.”

There was a long pause, and he rubbed his hand up and down the blankets over your back. He knew this was something of a sensitive topic for you—allowing yourself to do what you wanted after having been in hiding for so long, after being alone for years. But if this was something you wanted, he’d find a way to make it happen. You deserved this, after all the things you’d missed out on in your life. It wouldn’t make up for all of it, not even close, but it was a start.

And maybe… maybe it was for him, too. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a tree. Even as a kid, it was a rare thing to have enough money laying around for one. Him and his dad made do where they could, and every now and then managed to snatch up a small tree for cheap. God, those Christmases had seemed so magical, no matter how many needles fell off the patchy branches strung with paper ornaments and glittering tinsel. Funny how all that magic could drain away so quickly in a darkened alley, drain away like drying blood over cracked asphalt.

He’d lost interest in Christmas for a while, after that.

Foggy’s insistence on a dorm tree had been the first time in years he’d had one, and after that, the Nelson and Murdock office tree had been enough for him. There’d been no reason to put one up in his apartment. It wasn’t like he could see it, and he hadn’t… had anyone else who might want one. The few ornaments he’d managed to save from before his dad died hadn’t been enough of a reason to get a tree, not when it would feel… feel so empty, and remind him of just how alone he was in the world.

But now…

What would it be like to have a real Christmas, one with someone he loved, in the home that you and he had both created?

God, he wanted that with you.

“Wouldn’t the smell bother you?” you asked hesitantly, your face still hidden. The blankets, if he had to guess, had now become less of a tactic to retain warmth and more of a defense mechanism as you hunted for the catch. “Some smell really strong. Or so I heard, I haven’t, uh, really looked.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purred, “you’ll need more blankets if you want to hide a lie that big.”

You snorted, the blankets shaking as if you’d sneezed. The mountain of fabric began to shift as you squirmed around inside, and eventually, your head popped free, a ball of warmth and scent and stirred air currents. You rocked yourself around a little until you could get one arm free, too, and then you lifted your hand to cup his face. You considered him for a moment, as he leaned into your hand, pursing his lips to kiss your thumb fondly when it swept over his mouth. The taste and scent of your skin made him sigh, his eyes fluttering closed. And when you spoke, your heart beat truthful and steady. “I don’t want one if it’ll bother your senses. The tree’s not worth it if you’re miserable.”

Something in him softened at that, and he leaned in, dragging his nose against yours just for the way it made you smile before he tipped his head and pressed his lips to yours. He stayed there for a time, sighing with you as he pulled you in, his mouth working gently against yours. You stroked your thumb against his cheek, stubble rasping under your touch, tingling ripples of pleasure when you curved your fingers to gift him a little scratch with your nails. He let out the softest little moan, content as he’d ever been, warm and happy and loved here with you. “I love you, and thank you, my little burrito alleycat.”

“A burrito alleycat that loves you, too, Devil-man.” You kissed him again, short, fond kisses that made him feel slack and lazy, the usual aches and pains in his body fading beneath the warmth of your touch. You lifted your hand to scratch lightly through his hair, making him purr into your mouth. “Tree. Bothers those senses or no?”

He tilted his head to lazily kiss your wrist, before he groaned and lolled his head back into your hand when you hit a sore spot, his voice growing thick and glutted beneath your affection. “I, mm, may have called ahead and asked about some trees with gentler scents. They’ve got some that should work. Big ones, too.”

And oh, the way you drew in a slow breath, your fingers pausing in his hair. He knew, then, that even if there hadn’t been a mildly-scented tree for miles, it would have been worth it to travel farther still.

“A big tree?” you whispered, something like awe in your voice. “How big?”

“How big do you want?”

“I measured the apartment, we can fit an eighteen-foot tree in here right by the stairs, it’d have room to go up and spread out and there’d still be room for you to get your suit and also I found bulk ornaments for sale that we could use to fill it out until we have enough special ones of our own—”

“You… you measured—”

“I drew a diagram, do you want to feel it?” You lurched away from him and before he could catch you, you’d rolled yourself out of bed with a thunk and a low grunt, the blankets padding your fall. He listened in disbelief as you rolled along on your side, the blankets unwinding until at last, you were free.

Abruptly a laugh burst out of him as you scrambled up, darting out the bedroom door.

“Matt, put a shirt on!” you shouted, practically bouncing as you tore around the kitchen. “They open at nine, there might be a line!”

“I’m going to point out that you’re also still in your pajamas, sweetheart.”

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump—

You raced back into the bedroom like a tree-obsessed gazelle, and he caught you with a grin as you leapt back onto the bed with him. That grin only got wider as you kissed him, kissed his cheeks and his forehead and then his smiling mouth, your hands in his hair, affection he soaked in with a quiet sigh as you whispered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you—”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he huffed in amusement. That huff turned into a groan when you dipped to kiss along his throat, too, blatant affection along vulnerabilities that he bared only for you. He melted beneath the touch, his eyes fluttering shut, head rolling back in invitation when your warm lips passed over his pulse. “Mm, we still haven’t figured out how we’re going to get it into the apartment.”

“Trust me. I have ideas.”

 “Not this one,” he said with a hum. “Smells too dry.”

“Not this one either.” You stepped back to narrow your eyes in thought. “Trunk is crooked.”

The worker had long since left you both alone to browse the tree lot. Even though you both had a short list of preferred trees, it had seemed wise to work your way from the front to the back and inspect every tree currently available, just in case there was a surprise hiding somewhere. One by one, the two of you had gone through a rigorous, solemn inspection with all the gravity given to one of Matt’s legal cases.

Too small.

Too many open spaces between the branches.

Needles smell like cat pee inside.

You hadn’t known that was something to worry about, but you trusted Matt’s judgement, just like you trusted the stinky cat face he made upon circling that tree in particular.

Neither of you were looking for perfect. Perfect didn’t exist, you knew. All you wanted was good: a large-ish, relatively-healthy tree, and one that wouldn’t make Matt’s nose itch or fill the entire apartment with prickly needles. You’d made note of a few potential trees, keeping them in mind as you approached the back of the lot. You’d seen a noble fir halfway down that had looked promising—it wasn’t all that tall at eight feet but it would still look good by the stairs. You were halfway into a turn, intending to track the tree down again when you saw it.

The one.

“Oh,” you breathed, your head tilting as you stared up.

And up.

And up.

Matt taped his cane as he stepped up beside you, his head tipped as he considered the tree with you, his brow furrowed.

“Scent level?” you asked him softly.

He twitched his nose, the tip of it red from the cold. “Not bad. It’s a white fir, I think. I can definitely smell it, but it’s not unpleasant. The scent’s a little like citrus, actually. Density? Shape?”

“I can’t see the trunk at all. Room for ornaments. Perfect triangle shape. Rot? Damage inside?”

He started a slow circle around the tree, his lips parted minutely as he tasted the air. With each step he tapped his cane a few times, his head tipped towards the tree as he listened to the way it resonated. You watched nervously, biting your lip as you waited. There had to be a problem with it, there had to be. No tree was perfect, especially not your first real tree.

Matt came back around the tree, humming as he returned to your side. “It’s fresh. One of the freshest here, I think, or it sounds like it. And it smells clean. No rot.”

You reached out to take a branch gently in your hand, and when you pulled your gloved fingers down the line of it, your hand came away clean and free of needles. Another test passed as you sighed longingly. “Oh, Matt, it’s perfect.”

You both stepped back, staring up. Or, well, you did. Matt stared in spirit, if not in body.

It was perfect.

It was also… absolutely huge.

If it wasn’t eighteen feet, it was damned close, easily one of the tallest trees in the lot. The tree easily towered over you both, thick branches reaching up towards the heavens as if it longed to achieve the same height as the trees of the steel-and-concrete forest around it. That presence was undeniable, and even bound as it was, it was wide: broad and thick, its branches as big around as your wrist, each needle a vibrant blue-green touched with silver. It was the type of tree you’d only ever seen in movies, likely meant for building lobbies.

Or…

…for a couple with really, really high ceilings thanks to roof access.

“We could fit so many ornaments on it,” you breathed.

“How big did you say the ceilings were?” Matt asked, the cock of his head making you think he was running the numbers himself.

“Technically twenty. I left two feet for space at the top,” you said absently, already envisioning just how you might decorate this tree. Which was ridiculous.

It wasn’t even your tree yet, the common sense voice in your mind said. Besides, there were smaller, more suitable trees back up the lot.

It would cost too much, the sensible part of you said, even though you’d… maybe sorta been setting aside money for a tree this size for months now.

It was too large to be practical, the logical section of your brain howled. It would be a nightmare to get inside. An absolute, full-fledged, Christmas nightmare.

But it could fit.

You could make it fit.

You would make it fit.

“I can hear your pupils dilating,” Matt chuckled, the corner of his mouth tilted up into a small smirk. That smirk grew into a full-blown grin when you poked him, and he leaned over to press his mouth to your ear, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Is this our tree? I know you’ve been setting money aside just in case.”

You reached out longingly to pet the branches, soft needles kissing at your gloved fingertips as if to return your affection. God, even the needles were perfect, far less prickly than some of the other trees. It would make it easier for Matt to help you decorate. This tree… it was like it was made for you and him: made for your home, for his senses, for your first real Christmas since fleeing Los Angeles years ago. It had everything you wanted. It was healthy, and ready for a mountain of ornaments and tinsel and as many strings of lights as you could get your hands on.

“Do you think we can?” You bit your lip again, daring to glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “I know it’s big, and it’ll be hell getting it inside. More practical to get a smaller tree.”

“When has practicality ever stopped me?” He tipped his head, kissing your temple as you laughed, letting him wind an arm around your waist. He tapped his cane again a few times, humming thoughtfully. “It doesn’t sound like it’ll fit through our front door, but the new rooftop door’s a bit wider. If we come through that one, I think we can get it inside. We can make this work.”

“Jesus,” you breathed, staring up as he set his chin atop your head. “We’re really gonna do it. We’re gonna drag an eighteen-footer into our apartment.”

“We are.” He let out a pleased noise when you sidled in, nudging at him until he wound both arms around your waist, draping himself contentedly against your back. “There is admittedly one thing I’m not sure about.”

“What, transport?”

Matt shook his head. “I had Foggy drive over. He’s borrowing one of his family’s delivery trucks. Him and Karen should be here in about ten minutes, and they’re very excited to see what we picked out. No, the real question is…”

Oh.

“How,” you said slowly, “the fuck are we going to get this onto the roof?”

  “Pi-vooooooot!” Foggy howled from one flight up.

“I understood that reference, so ha, but also: which way do we pivot?!” you wheezed, shoving at the tree. “Matt, push.”

“I am pushing,” he groaned from down near the base, his teeth grit, feet wide.

“I’m sor—” you started.

“Don’t you finish that sentence,” Matt growled, ducking his shoulder and heaving. The tree shivered and moved a half-inch. “You-you wanted… a-a big tree for our first Christmas, and we’re getting one, so help me God.”

“And he’s Catholic so he means that literally,” Foggy puffed, yanking at the ropes. The tree sympathetically moved another inch, its needles shivering as if in apology over its own size. “And he’s—gah—right, cause this’ll take an act of God to-to get it inside. Ok, I don’t know what direction you’re pivoting, but it’s the wrong pivot. Pivot the other way. Pivot.”

“You guys are doing great,” Karen said innocently. Probably because there was only room for three of you on the stairwell and she’d drawn the good straw.

Matt groaned again. “There are three other directions we can pivot, Foggy.” And yet he tried, tendons straining in his neck, his jaw clenched as you and him tried to shift the tree in a new direction. He was, admittedly, taking the majority of the tree’s weight of the three of you since he was the strongest, but he was also the only one who’d rather let the tree crush him to death than admit he couldn’t simply levitate it up the stairs through masochism and sheer stubbornness, so you got your own shoulder farther under it, taking more weight while Foggy decided where to go.

“Uh, left pivot, left pivot.”

There was a crunch as the three of you hit the wall.

“I swear to Catholic Jesus, Foggy,” you announced grimly, “if you Friends-pivot our tree into breaking, I will come up this tree at you like a rabid squirrel.”

“Merry Christmas, shitter was full!” Foggy bellowed, yanking hard enough that the tree, surprisingly, moved another inch. “Karen, how we lookin?”

“I’m going to get so many views on this,” Karen snickered, her phone aimed upwards.

“Karen!” Foggy barked, and you squawked beneath the increased weight of the tree as Foggy let go with one hand to point back down the stairs. The motion almost took you out until Matt shoved a leg out, bracing when your feet started to slide back, his face covered in sweat, teeth bared as if he were fighting someone in an alley and not the laws of physics and the equally dangerous laws of girlfriends who wanted very large Christmas trees. “Don’t you—ok, actually, send me this video later. But mechanics first! Status?”

“Right, you guys are, uh…”

“Are we almost to the landing?” you wheezed hopefully, spitting out a pine needle that had, somehow, wound up in your mouth.

Unfortunately, Matt was below you.

“I love you, too,” Matt said tiredly, the wet pine needle now stuck in his hair.

“Sorry.”

Karen cleared her throat, and you leaned your head over the railing… to meet her eye where she stood, roughly two inches below you. She gave you a weak thumbs up.

Matt groaned, leaning forward to faceplant on one of the branches.

“Right,” you said. “I have… a different plan.”

  “You stole this from While You Were Sleeping, didn’t you?” Foggy said, his voice crackling through your cell’s speakerphone where you’d set it on the rooftop’s A.C. unit.

“Admitting to nothing,” you wheezed. “Just-just keep an eye on the-the tree. Right, again!”

You, Karen, and Matt all yanked.

The ropes groaned once more, drawn up taut as the three of you attempted to pull up the massive tree over the side of the building. You’d been at this for ten minutes, and managed to make it to the second story, according to Foggy. But it had taken a lot out of the three of you, even Matt. He, of course, declared that he was fine, but you’d once heard him say the same thing about a bullet wound roughly three minutes before passing out, so you took that with a container’s-worth of salt grains.

Karen growled, digging her heels in as you all huffed and puffed, Christmas spirit driving you forward like the crack of a whip. “W-when did you—ugh—say your friend was… gonna get here?”

“Not quite a friend,” you grunted, leaning back so sharply you almost rammed into Matt behind you, who was making a strange wheezing sound as he no doubt attempted to pull the entire tree up by himself despite there being two additional people. “And she just kinda—ngh—shows up if she feels like it. Fifty-fifty chance. Matt, do not tear something.”

“Can meditate—”

“No!” you bellowed, gritting your teeth as you all yanked, the rope slowly coming with you. “N-no meditating! Need your-your back healthy for ornament hanging—”

“I knew you loved me for something,” he mumbled.

“—and tree-topping—”

“And the other kind of topping,” Karen said, somehow sly despite the fact that you were all soaked in sweat and wild-eyed, smelling like pine needles and rabid determination.

“Oh my God, Karen,” you wheezed, your feet skidding on the cement.

“What? It’s true.”

“It’s fine,” Matt grunted. “She can top if my back goes.”

“Are we talking about trees or…?”

The wind picked up.

Which wasn’t that unusual. But then again, you weren’t normally all hanging onto ropes tied to an eighteen-foot hanging embodiment of all your Christmas hopes and dreams.

Just like that, the rope snapped you all forward as if a giant had taken hold and yanked. Matt crashed into you, and together, your tangled bodies took out Karen at the knees. You all tumbled forward, the rope flying free.

Oh, no you don’t.

You did not go over a decade without a fucking Christmas tree just to lose your first eighteen-footer.

You were going to have a merry fucking Christmas if it killed you.

You leapt for the rope with a snarl, and Matt, predictably sensing that, for once, he was the one with an excess of self-preservation, darted after you. You only just managed to snag the rope, throwing yourself back, your feet shoved forward to brace yourself against the edge of the rooftop. Unfortunately, while you did a lot of walking and running, you didn’t quite have the muscle to hold it. Few did.

Matt caught you a moment later, bracketing your own legs with his, his arms around you until he could grab the rope, too. And, not for the first time, you found yourself grateful for all the muscle in those massive thighs of his when he shoved his feet up against the wall, locked up with a growl, and held.

The tree lurched to a stop.

"Fuck, I love your beefy thighs," you panted. "Remind me to show them appreciation later."

He groaned, trying to lean his body back farther. "Now's not the best time—nngh—to make me think about you and my thighs, sweetheart."

“Right,” Foggy’s voice crackled. “Unless that was intentional and you tried to throw your tree down like Hans Gruber off the Nakatomi Building, I’m glad to inform you that you stopped it six inches from the ground.”

“Matt—” you panted, shoved up against Matt's chest. Karen had already caught the slack behind you both, but there wasn’t enough leverage for you both to back away. If even one of you let go… “I don’t know if we can-can make it—”

“Don’t say that!” he hissed, muscles straining, his chest heaving at your back. “I-I can save it, we need the tree, so we can have Christmas like you wanted—”

“The only thing I need for Christmas is—nngh—you, Matt.”

“Should I be filming?” Karen panted. “This is-is touching, but—”

“Really?” Matt asked you quietly. “You’d be happy… even if we—”

“I’m always happy with you.” You leaned your sweat-soaked head back against him, twisting as best you could to kiss his chin. “Tree, or no tree.”

“Jesus Christ, that was disgusting. You owe me an extra bottle for this.”

The rope suddenly tore free from your hands—

—and snapped taut as someone lifted it up and began to pull.

And it went, with all the ease of a dog being tugged along on a Sunday stroll.

“Holy shit,” Karen whispered.

“Karen, Matt,” you puffed, waving back. “This is—”

“I’m not drunk enough for introductions so don’t bother,” Jessica grunted as she walked backwards, casually winding the rope around one hand as she considered the bottle in her other hand, one you’d left by the door as an offering in hopes that she might smell what amounted to paint thinner and show up like the world’s most foul-mouthed elf. “Not my usual shit, but it’ll do.”

“Second one will be delivered to your office as promised,” you panted, still leaning back against Matt.

“Now it’s three for having to listen to that sappy display. Now unless you want that tree to fuck you into the ground, I’d get the hell away from the edge before it comes up.”

You and Matt both scrambled out of the way as the first branches appeared over the edge, and even Karen took a few steps back.

“Right, I have no idea what’s happening,” Foggy’s voice crackled. “But holy shit, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

“Open this,” Jessica said, shoving the bottle into your hands as she walked back down the rope, hand over hand before she got to the edge. She shoved one hand over the edge, snorting once she got a good look at the tree. “Shit, you’re one of them, aren’t you? Christmas psychopath.”

You shrugged one shoulder, unscrewing the top of the bottle—God knew it wasn’t expensive enough to need a cork or have a bottle cap. “If I’m in, I’m in.”

“Go big or go home,” Matt said, his grin only barely hidden behind mock solemnity.

“Applies only to good fucks and bottles,” she snarked back, casually lifting the eighteen-foot tree in one somehow-disgusted hand, pulling it up and over the roof like one might pluck up a filthy, crusted spaghetti noodle from the floor.

Karen’s eyes were wide, and even Matt had tilted his head beside you. “Is she…?”

“She is,” Karen breathed. “Jesus. I guess that’s one way to get the tree up here.”

“Don’t count on this next year. And you owe me, even with the booze.” She grunted and tossed the massive tree down, dusting her hands off. The sap on her fingers made her scowl. “Why everyone’s obsessed with nature is beyond me.”

“Christmas nature,” you corrected. “At least it’s not the giant turtle guy. I heard he’s gone to you since I wouldn’t go down again.”

“Don’t remind me,” she muttered. “He’s been in my office three times in the past month ranting about them coming up out of the sewers.”

You handed her the bottle as she passed you by, throwing her a salute, as did Karen. “Thanks for the help.”

“Remember: two bottles, my office. Then we’re even.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Matt said, the corner of his mouth tilting up as if he already knew the response that was coming.

“Nicer to leave,” she said, waving one hand before disappearing down the stairs, leaving nothing but the tree and the scent of discount whiskey in her wake.

“She sounded lovely,” Foggy said. “And also hilarious. Can we invite her to the Nelson and Murdock Christmas party? Is the tree up there at least?”

You stared at the tree.

The tree now on the roof.

“Matt, I’d open your arms,” Karen said with a grin. “Incoming.”

Matt grinned and pivoted, throwing his arms open as you leapt up into them. He spun you both in a big circle, your laughter torn away by the wind, the first snowflakes of the day beginning to drift down. “Fuck, we did it, Matt! We got our Christmas tree!”

“If my girl wants a big tree, she gets a big tree,” he said, his grin softening to a smile when you buried your hands in his hair, dark strands dusted with white, and tipped his head up so you could kiss him warmly, safely held in his arms, and if your eyes were maybe a little wet, he wasn’t willing to say anything but, “Love you, sweetheart.”

There was a quiet click as Karen took a picture.

“Thank you,” you whispered, as his nose brushed against yours. “Thank you for giving me a real tree, Matt.”

It took time to get it inside, but once you managed, things came together perfectly. It was the perfect height, filling the open space with a mass of brilliant blue-green touched with silver, its branches stretched wide. It took you and Matt a good ten strands of lights to wrap the whole thing and at least five boxes of standard ornaments. Here and there, between them all, hung more personal touches:

Paper ornaments, carefully folded and cut by quiet memory alone.

A little penguin couple in Santa hats, flippers held tight above both script and braille that read, ‘Our First Christmas.’

And now…

“I like this one,” you murmured, hooking the final ornament onto the tree and standing back. Matt wound his arms around your waist, his head on your shoulder. “I’m glad Karen took that picture.”

“Do we look happy?” he asked you quietly. “Is it… does the tree look right?”

And you heard the unspoken:

Did I do this right?

You turned and let your gaze slide over his face. He looked… more content than he had in a long, long time. And yet there was a hint of vulnerability there, too, hidden beneath the softened glow of the Christmas lights, painted in shades of red and green and blue. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his cheek, and he turned, nuzzling in so he could kiss you back. “It’s the perfect tree,” you told him softly. “It’s bright and full of colors with all the lights and our ornaments. All our little ones look even more special. It looks like something out of a movie, or a Christmas card. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

He sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder and relaxing at last, as you lifted your hand to brush through his hair. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Merry Christmas, Matt. And here’s to many more, until we’re old and grey.”

#the red thread #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x f!reader #daredevil x reader #fic #fanfic #reader fic #x reader #fluff #daredevil #matt murdock #christmas fluff #christmas fic #christmas trees #nice long little one shot so enjoy #foggy's makes references all the time fight me #foggy has watched all christmas movies in existence #surprise cameo is a surprise #matt deciding that this tree is a representation of his own value so he has to do it so that you will love him #but it's ok cause you know how he goes and reassure him #i measured those ceilings as best i could you know you could fit a massive ass tree in there

[marquisegallery]

This took me. So long. To finish. I had hoped to finish it sometime in February, but now here we are. :u

Anyways! Much like the Devil Theory headcanons post I did a long while ago, this is a headcanons post for DOT EXE! All frickin' 8 of them!! Suffice to say this is going to be incredibly long, so keep that in mind before you jump into the Read More. You have been warned!! :P

(Also much like with Devil Theory, some of this might be based on stuff in the game, but a lot of it will just be "I personally think this would be neat!!")

There are going to be very many sections here, so I'm splitting them up to keep things organized and easier to follow. :u

The Overall Crew:

First and foremost, names! Plus heights, because I finally decided on heights for the individual members now :P

2 = Twoson (172 cm / 5’ 8")

4 = Fourside (173 cm / 5’ 8")

5 = Cinco (186 cm / 6’ 1")

8 = 8-ball (192 cm / 6’ 4")

9 = Neun (182 cm / 6’)

10 = Jūrō (178 cm / 5’ 10")

14 = Quatorze (196 cm / 6’ 5")

And then the cue ball member is just… Cueball, lol. He is 190 cm / 6’ 3". I was originally going to make him more-or-less the median height of the crew, but changed my mind later.

I know the 10 and 14 members found in the code aren't "official" members, especially since they seem to be just extra palettes for a potential playable 8-ball. But you know what, I made characters out of them anyways!! :P

Starting off with DOT EXE in general:

As mentioned in the game, they’re a group of full-cyber writers and breakdancers!! They also have a bit of a reputation as hackers, though truthfully it’s only some of them, specifically 8-ball, Neun, and Cinco. They’re the ones who came up with the name too, they just wanted something computer-y. It was originally just the three of them, and the others joined over time. In order, Quatorze and Jūrō were asked by 8-ball to join, then Twoson and Fourside asked to join after they went full-cyber, and then Cueball was the last to join.

Their writer aliases/street names are of course based on the billiard number shown on their screen faces. Which person gets which number was originally based on the actual number of letters in their real given name, but that doesn’t apply to Cueball, Twoson, or Fourside.

They have a reputation of being pretentious and stuck-up assholes (though at least not violent assholes like Devil Theory). They basically look down on most other crews as noobs, about the only writers they respect are DJ Cyber, Felix, and eventually BRC in general after the end of the game.

Of the current big crews in New Amsterdam, they’ve been operating the longest (with varying number of members of course), for about 2 decades at this point! However, them being an actual “big name” crew has only really happened in the past couple of years. They mostly stick to their own territory in Millennium Mall.

On that note! They literally own the mall. All of it. They collect rent from the various stores and companies operating in the mall. They keep the rent super low for local businesses so they can afford to compete with the big brands (especially huge international ones) that set up shop here. Meanwhile, said big brands are charged like five times more in rent. Of course, they’re never actually told that’s the case! Those companies even assume it must be the same for everyone else in the mall. The way DOT EXE spin it to them is along the lines of, “C’mon, don’t you want the prestige of having a store in the one and only Millennium Mall?!” Basically I imagine the Millennium Mall is a huge deal in that way, hence why the big companies don’t suspect anything’s off. :P

So yeah, DOT EXE make money that way. Even after taking out whatever has to be used for proper maintenance of the mall itself, for the most part they end up with a lot more than any of them need (especially since, being full-cyber, they don’t have to worry about food and stuff, just electricity and occasional maintenance/repairs). A lot of the money is saved for emergencies and fun stuff (like hobbies), and then they donate the rest to local charities.

The local businesses are aware of DOT EXE being the owners of the mall, and honestly don’t mind them being writers either! DOT EXE are also more reliable than the police when it comes to asking for help with a problem. In the case of shoplifters in particular, DOT EXE don’t even really punish the thieves, they’ll pay for whatever was stolen and ask if they need additional help (like if they only stole because they didn’t have a job and need help, etc).

The crew hate that the police can intervene at the mall, especially with the helicopters and walking tanks, not to mention the police tube things. They’ve tried to complain to the local government about it, but have been shot down every time. Now they will at the least sabotage the tubes and turrets whenever they can.

The mall is so big that there’s basically a huge solar panel farm on top. Whatever electricity doesn’t get used up by the mall ends up redirected to other parts of New Amsterdam that need it.

There’s also a whole community greenhouse up there! A rather illegal one actually, with New Amsterdam (currently) having some very strict regulations on larger-scale gardens and such (given there’s only one tree in the actual game, and it’s been dug up from Old Amsterdam). DOT EXE do not give a fuck about that clearly, and keep it operational. Especially since it’s a great source of food for a lot of people! DOT EXE managed to hack the local government offices to give the mall’s greenhouse an “official exception”, so the police have to (very begrudgingly) leave it be. Half the crew like the greenhouse since it’s such a great benefit for others, and the other half like it because they know it annoys the cops.

Their hideout is a small part of the mall that’s been sort of sectioned off just for them. Basically behind some pulled-down grates, a bunch of the stores behind said grates have been converted into rooms for them, and is collectively their hideout! There is an actual part of the mall in the game that looks like this, see below:

The rooms of the hideout are as follows: a main meeting/living room area (which also has a disused kitchen, since they don’t need to eat), a main rec area with a ton of custom arcade cabinets and hacked game consoles, a storage room, and then 4 personal rooms for the members, shared between a few of them. One for Cinco and Neun, another for Twoson and Fourside, another for Jūrō and Quatorze, and the last for 8-ball and Cueball. Though since 8-ball was killed, it’s been Cueball’s room by himself.

So yeah, they all live there, whereas pretty much every other crew has their hideout but then individual members (usually) live elsewhere.

They actually aren’t all the same age as the Oldheads, it’s just a cover so people don’t try and figure out any personal info about them. Specific ages/age ranges will be mentioned in individual sections, but really only 8-ball, Neun, and Cinco are around the Oldheads’ ages. Quatorze and Jūrō are actually a good chunk older than them, while Cueball, Twoson, and Fourside are all much younger.

Cueball in particular will always hide his real age, since part of it is related to how he went full-cyber. He will lie to most people and saying he's around the same age as 8-ball, Neun, and Cinco. He hates the pity he gets from people otherwise (more on this later!!).

Twoson and Foruside don't lie about their ages when asked, but would just say they were inspired by 8-ball, Neun, and Cinco to go full-cyber to keep being good dancers and writers. Meanwhile, Quatorze and Jūrō are pretty honest about why they actually did it (again, more on this later!!).

Their voice, outfits, and billiard screens are also covers for their identities!

For the voice, the idea is that there's a "default" voice all the DOT EXE folks use in public, but they still have their own voices based on how they sound from before going full-cyber (Twoson and Fourside are technically exceptions to this, but yeah, more on that later). Their actual voices are only used when they’re going around as “civilians” rather than writers, or otherwise in private at their hideout.

The tracksuits are basically just their costumes, similar to the costumes the other crews wear. So they do wear clothes besides the tracksuits. Sure, they don't really need to, but they like to! Especially when they're not out doing writer stuff, makes it easier for the cops to not suspect something. Each of them has their own personal style, which will be noted in the individual sections!

The screen face can be changed to different images. When they're out and about as "civilians", they tend to change their screens to sort of robotic faces, kinda similar to what non-screen cyberheads have. Those specific faces will be shown in the individual characters’ sections, with their "DOT EXE face" on the left and their individual faces on the right.

Combined with the difference in clothing and voices, it does a good job of actually hiding who they are from the cops!

Note that Cueball is an exception on the voice and screen thing, but I’ll get into that more in his section!

They are all gamers to some degree, otherwise why else would they have a rec room with so many games? They each have their own favorite genres, but overall play a wide variety of them. They’ll play by themselves or with each other depending on the game. The whole crew can get pretty competitive about high scores too, especially on the arcade cabinets!

They also each have their own hobbies outside of gaming, but again, another thing to mention in their own sections.

They all have the capability to communicate wirelessly like computers and phones, i.e. send messages directly to one another instead of to their phones. However, they don’t do that anymore. Mainly because the one time they tried to use it more often, Twoson, Fourside, and Cueball spammed so many memes to Neun that it caused him to crash. Hence why they still rely on text and calls like full-flesh writers, though some of them still do direct wireless messages to one another sometimes. Basically equivalent to whispering to someone so other people don’t hear them.

As full-cyber people, they all have sensors all over their bodies which can act the same as nerves. Detecting damage/pain, temperature, pressure/being touched, and even textures to a degree. The only difference is that these can be turned on or off, or even set to varying “levels” of sensing in between. Usually they turn down the pain/temperature detecting part of the sensors while they’re out (especially while doing writer stuff; basically just detecting damage/temperature without causing actual pain to them). They only turn them fully back on once they’re safe at their hideout.

🎱5️⃣9️⃣

8-ball, Cinco, and Neun in general:

They are basically the only ones that went full-cyber to be able to dance better for the most part, though they also did it to be able to get better as writers. None of them were particularly good at either of those before then, though they all clearly wanted to improve at it.

All three of them met and became friends via a transhumanism forum online, hence them going full-cyber together. The actual process is finished up around their 30s or 40s, and they're in their 60s by the time of the game.

Cinco is from Honduras and Neun is from Germany (or so he claims...). Meanwhile 8-ball was born and raised in New Amsterdam, though his father (who he shares with Cueball) had long since moved away to somewhere in the United States.

Both Neun and Cinco did writer stuff in their respective home cities, but 8-ball talked to them a lot about the writer scene in New Amsterdam, especially a lot of the big name writers at the time. That influenced all of them to want to get better at being writers, no matter what.

Once Neun and Cinco moved to New Amsterdam, 8-ball and them formed DOT EXE! They were all full-cyber by then, and practiced together to improve their skills, eventually becoming fairly big names like the other crews.

All three of them act (or acted in 8-ball’s case) as the IT people for the whole mall.

Them getting into hacking and computer stuff mostly started after they all went full-cyber, especially since all their augmentations made it a hell of a lot easier to do.

All three of them love rhythm games, but also have other genres they particularly like. They had rhythm game competitions between the three of them, and even with 8-ball gone, Neun and Cinco still do that from time to time.

On that note, yeah, in my ideas/AU/whatever you want to call it, 8-ball’s death is very much permanent. See this post with some further details on why that is, in particular how, just because his mind’s been digitized, doesn’t mean it’d be any easier to recover.

8-ball specifically:

8-ball refers to Cueball as his bro in the game, and I like to think they’re actual brothers and not just brothers-in-a-friend-way. For my headcanons, they’re actually half-brothers, but refer to each other as brothers anyways. 8-ball is the older of the two!

He’s a bit egotistical. Just a bit.

Kind of a daredevil too, compared to the others. He was like that before going full-cyber, but then after the conversion, being “effectively” invincible just made him more reckless. Dangerous stunts! Tagging more and more high up heaven spots! Getting heat up just to be able to fight the police! So on and so forth.

He is the one who designed the team’s graffiti in-universe, hence why their small tag is more related to him that the team overall. Like I said, bit of an ego on this guy!

He is the one who managed to get ownership of the whole mall, and then just splits the management and collected rent with the others. He actually managed to win ownership of the mall in a (very) risky game of poker. And he didn’t just made that up to sound cool, Cinco and Neun were actually there to witness it!

For his normal fashion style as a civilian, basically he just focuses on looking “cool”, in particular with cool jackets. This usually means jean jackets or leather biker jackets. Also tends to wear jean pants, and shirts with cool designs on them. Which is often stuff like sharks, wolves, dragons, volcanoes, lighting bolts, tornadoes, etc. Also cool shoes of course!

For his personal favorite video game genre, he likes playing shooters, but moreso arcade style shooters and SHMUPs instead of FPSs. Still kinda ironic, given what happened to him…

Real name Frederik Visser. He mainly got into transhumanism just because he thought it was cool, and eventually took it seriously and ended up on the forum where he met Neun and Cinco.

Cinco specifically:

From Cueball’s point of view, he’s the fun uncle!

Fluent in Spanish, speaks it with a Honduran accent. Sometimes uses Spanish words when talking casually, usually terms of endearment for others. Or insults/swears, because he finds it more satisfying to do so in Spanish, lol

Knows a ton of jokes, including puns, in several languages.

A charming guy, very outgoing and friendly with just about everyone!

Also a “he has your back when you need it” kind of pal to DOT EXE in general, but especially 8-ball and Neun. After 8-ball died, he got a bit more protective of Cueball too.

For his fashion style, he likes wearing patterned button-down shirts and sports shorts. For the shirts, of course that includes what’s called Hawaiian shirts, but really anything that has some sort of fancy/detailed patterned will catch his eye. Also tends to wear sandals/flipflops, or crocs.

He really likes racing games, also sports games in general!

Cinco was a bit of a jock type before going full-cyber on that note, playing a lot of sports back then too. He tried to get into various professional sports but never got very far. He’s good at whatever he plays, but evidently just not one of the best for it. Also doesn’t help that he never tried focusing on one particular sport at a time, to the point where he stretched himself thin after a while.

Occasionally plays basketball with the Franks, he’s actually good pals with them because of it!

Likes sports and muscle cars, though mostly driving them and not the maintenance part. He may or may not participate in drag races using stolen cars. Not that it’s hard to steal a car in New Amsterdam, there’s a lot of rich people with “smart” cars who don’t change the default passwords…

Real name César Hugo Raúl Garcia-Flores. On both sides of his family there’s histories of genetic illnesses, and after a certain point he was starting to show some early signs of them. This of course started affecting his health, and with his focus on sports and also wanting to get better as a writer/dancer, he ended up on the transhumanism forum to hopefully find a way to handle all that.

He genuinely didn’t intended to go full-cyber, just wanted to look into “less intensive” cybernetics. However, becoming friends with 8-ball and Neun and going over what they were planning themselves basically led Cinco to decide, “You know what? Might as well go all the way with this myself!”

A note on his full name, if people ask about it: he’ll say his parents couldn’t decide between the two middle names, and just gave him both. Meanwhile, neither parent was backing down about giving him one family name or the other, so they decided to just hyphenate it. But then they had an argument over the order (Garcia-Flores or Flores-Garcia), so they flipped a coin on it… that all being said, Cinco always says this like it’s another joke, so no one’s entirely sure if it’s the real story or not.

He had a boyfriend before going full-cyber. They broke up because of him hiding the fact he was planning to go full-cyber at all. Then again, them breaking up over that was inevitable anyways, because said boyfriend was the type of person to see cybernetics (especially full-cyber stuff) as something unnatural and disgusting. By the time of the game, Cinco has long since gotten over it (for the most part).

May or may not end up dating Escher, hee hee

Neun specifically:

From Cueball’s point of view, he’s basically the stern uncle lol

Has a bit of a “neutral” accent when speaking in his actual voice. It’s clear he’s hiding whatever his “real” accent is supposed to be, but no one knows what he naturally sounds like, not even 8-ball and Cinco. His voice gets shockingly deep when he’s angry, which is very rare.

Fluent in German and Spanish, having grown up speaking both languages. Claims to be from Germany. Though, he’s only ever spoken Spanish with Cinco in private “for some reason”...

… The reason being that he’s actually Argentinian (of German descent, hence him learning that language) and very much has the accent when speaking Spanish. Cinco clocked him as such when listening to him speak Spanish one time. Neun doesn’t want people to know that about him, so he’s sworn Cinco to never speak of it to anyone, even 8-ball. More on why later...

When in public, he basically puts up a front and acts the same kind of “dudebro” kind of way the rest of the members act. Outside of that, overall he’s a very serious and kinda cold guy, but he does genuinely care about his friends (and eventually the rest of the crew, though it took him a while to get there).

Between him, 8-ball, and Cinco, Neun is basically the “friend in charge of the one collective brain cell” kind of guy. It’s also why he’s second-in-command of DOT EXE, becoming the leader once 8-ball is killed.

Also the crew’s accountant, mostly in charge of sorting out collecting rent from the businesses in the mall. He gives a lot of leeway for local businesses if they’re late on rent, but gives no such mercy to the bigger brands in the mall.

Likes to stay organized. He will pick up after the others if they leave a mess, but will also complain and berate them while doing so.

Not exactly a fan of jokes or pranks. He dislikes puns in particular and finds them genuinely annoying (not in a “Damn it, I wish I thought of that myself!!” kind of way). He makes an exception for Cinco’s jokes, but mostly out of politeness as a friend. And even then it’s not like Neun will laugh, he’ll just politely stay quiet and shake his head.

For his normal fashion outside of the tracksuits, well, Neun can be described as looking like a stereotypical nerd. This means collar shirts and khaki pants, lol

Neun likes playing RPGs and strategy games, though he’s very old school and picky about what he plays. If it doesn’t have some sort of hard mode, at the very least a hard mode that can be modded in, he won’t bother with it. Just as an example, he likes playing Pokemon games but only with modded super hard modes and with Smogon-style strategies and team builds.

Claims his real name is Sebastian Jäger. He was originally just on the transhumanism forum out of curiosity, not really taking it seriously. However, at one point he had a mid-life crisis related to mortality, especially after having to deal with a string of family deaths around the same time. With him wanting to be a better writer and breakdancer, at that point he felt like he had limited time to even live at all, let alone enough time to improve at either of those.

Hence why he started being more active on the forum and looking into full-cyber conversion in particular, and that eventually led to him becoming friends with 8-ball and Cinco. He’ll never admit to this though.

He’ll also never admit that he accidentally crossed the wrong people on his journey to both go full-cyber and move to New Amsterdam. He’s convinced they’re still looking for him, even if the chances are incredibly slim. Thus why he’s hiding at least part of his origins...

His actual real name is Sebastián Montero, but again, he’s basically in hiding right now. "Jäger" was apparently the family name of an ancestor of his.

(1️⃣4️⃣) 🔟

Quatorze and Jūrō in general:

Quatorze is French, and Jūrō is of Japanese descent, both born and raised in France. Both can of course speak French, with their real speaking voices having a Parisian French accent. Jūrō is also fluent in Japanese.

They were both big time writers in their youth, with stories about them being what inspired 8-ball to become a writer in the first place! Then him talking about them to Cinco and Neun is what collectively pushed all three of them to want to get better at being writers.

They are a married couple and still consider themselves married as wife and husband, even after going full-cyber together (technically they are considered legally dead and thus no longer married, but screw the laws man).

On that note, surprise, Quatorze is actually a woman! Thanks to the default voice for the crew and the tracksuits, everyone just assumes she’s a man without hearing her real voice. That’s intentional, I’ll get into it a bit more in her specific section.

They are very, very loving to each other. Think Gomez and Morticia Addams, just without a morbid humor angle. Jūrō basically praises and is encouraging of everything Quatorze does, and Quatorze love to compliment him for anything he does too. Though sometimes it does get on her nerves, and he apologizes when she asks him to dial it back a bit. But also they have the mushiest pet names for each other.

They are both willing to kill and be killed for the sake of their spouse, but of course each of them would prefer that the other not going that far.

They see 8-ball, Cinco, and Neun as their peers. Meanwhile, both of them dote on Cueball, Twoson, and Fourside like their actual kids/grandkids. Cueball finds it annoying but secretly likes it, meanwhile Twoson and Fourside outright call them Granny and Granpy respectively.

Real names Marie-Madeleine Lucille Perrault, and Maximilien Théodore Perrault, respectively. Their backstory of how they went full-cyber is connected, so I’ll just go over it here: Tragically, in their 70s, Quatorze got cancer at some point, a kind that was unfortunately very hard to treat. She had the option to go full-cyber instead of continuing risky treatment just to potentially die due to being weakened by said treatment. And her husband Jūrō also went full-cyber to be able to stay with her!

Unfortunately, their kids were not happy with that. For some of them, there was confusion about how inheritance would work (eventually finding out that Quatorze and Jūrō would be considered legally dead anyways, so it was “fine”). For others, it’s moreso that they had already accepted that their mom will die, only for her to choose to keep living in the most “selfish” and “unnatural” way possible.

Suffice to say, Quatorze and Jūrō have not spoken to their kids since then, and they haven’t seen their grandkids since then either. They’re more torn up about not seeing their grandkids (they weren’t exactly happy with their kids fighting over inheritance and criticizing their parents’ decision on how to keep living). For the most part they’ve come to accept they’ll never see them again, but Jūrō is secretly holding onto hope they might see their grandkids again someday…

After the two of them went full-cyber, sometime later 8-ball reached out to them, having heard about what happened to them. He was basically like, "Hey you guys were big inspirations to us as writers! Wanna join our new full-cyber crew??" (at that point it was just him, Cinco, and Neun). They responded, "Well, we're not sure how to spend our retirement now, so sure! :)" So by the time of the game’s events, they’re in their 80s.

Quatorze specifically:

She’s basically the team mom! Very caring towards everyone in the crew, but also more than willing to put her foot down to get them to behave when needed.

Before going full-cyber, she was an actress. Her pretending to be a man when out and about as a writer is mainly to hide her identity. She was fairly famous at her peak, so even with her being “legally” dead, she doesn’t want people to find and bother her, especially not any overzealous fans. She does look back on her past work with fondness though, some of her favorite roles was getting to play as hammy, over-the-top villains in cartoons, animated movies, and live action movies.

Though as an actress, her pretending to be a man while in public as DOT EXE (including using the default voice the same as the others) is also just another role for her. She finds it a lot of fun!

She knits, as well as crocheting, weaving, and other crafts involving threads and such. She will knit you a sweater/scarf/hat if you ask politely!

For her civilian fashion, she likes wearing sweaters and long skirts. Sometimes she wears sundresses with a nice sunhat during the summer months, even if it’s not really necessary as a full-cyber person. She has fancier dresses she wears for date nights with Jūrō.

Her favorite kinds of video games are puzzle games and ‘slow’ platformers, mainly things along the lines of Klonoa, Kirby, Mario, and Banjo-Kazooie.

Jūrō specifically:

He’s basically the team dad! Very supportive of his crew mates. He leaves being the “stern parent” to Quatorze though, especially since Jūrō tends to be too soft on someone if they messed up or started issues with the rest of the crew. It was the same when they were full-flesh with their kids and grandkids, he’s mainly just afraid of seeming too “mean”.

Unfortunately he can’t do dad jokes, but at least Cinco has that covered, lol

He worked as an accountant, but didn’t like the work very much. He was able to be a stay-at-home dad once Quartorze’s acting career really took off!

He likes to garden, and he’s the one that works the most on the mall’s greenhouse.

For his civilian fashion, usually wears nice pants (like the kind for suits) + long button-down shirts. Also wears sweater vests that his wife makes for him! He has full suits and waistcoats for date nights with Quatorze.

His favorite kinds of video games are life sim games, such as Animal Crossing and Stardew Valley (“If only growing plants were this easy in real life!”). He also likes idle games, especially ones that don’t demand his attention too much.

2️⃣4️⃣

Twoson and Fourside in general:

Yes, their names are references to the Earthbound towns of the same name. They picked out their own billiard numbers to specifically make that reference, lol

Twoson is agender (they/he) and Fourside is nonbinary (also they/he). Note that they were like this long before going full-cyber, since some people may assume it happened because of the transition.

For their voices, they actually only use their real voices when they’re alone together in private, and no one else knows what they “really” sound like. When out as civilians or in private with their crewmates, they use different synthesized voices from the one used for DOT EXE. Their specific synthesized voices will be noted in their individual sections.

For their civilian screen faces, these two will actually change them to express certain emotions, usually with very anime-esque stuff (eye shines, exaggerated evil grins, etc). Other members will just keep their faces static and express themselves through their voice and hand/body movement.

They are both pranksters, they love to cause mischief and mayhem! Not even their own crewmates are safe.

They get along with Cueball in a sort of sibling way. Sometimes getting along great, other times being at each others’ throats (i.e. Cueball vs. Twoson and Fourside, the two of them are deep friends and have never really fought each other).

Jūrō has taught both of them Japanese. He insisted on it after hearing them talk (or rather, trying to talk) in Japanese once, they were really horrible at it before his lessons. They both also know a bit of Spanish from Cinco.

Between the two of them, they have a huge anime and manga collection! I will mention some of their individual favorite genres for that in their respective sections.

They make video games! Just as a hobby, so all the games they make are free. Said games are mostly in the form of super hard ROM Hacks, or weird/eccentric/trippy games (think along the lines of Yume Nikki, OFF, Hylics, Space Funeral, Goblet Grotto, LSD Dream Emulator, etc.). Neither of them can code very well, so they usually convince/force Cueball into helping them with their various projects. What they provide for said projects themselves is mostly the ideas (both of them), music (Twoson specifically), and art assets (Fourside specifically).

Suffice to say, the games they make are not ones that any of the other DOT EXE members normally play. Neun has played some of the ROM hacks they’ve made for RPGs though, mostly because of the ridiculous challenges they put in.

They both have similar tastes in music, usually stuff that is fairly “eccentric” compared to mainstream music. Basically along the lines of Caravan Palace, Will Wood, Lemon Demon, Jack Stauber, GHOST and Pals, Vane, and R.I.P.. Also enjoy a lot of Vocaloid and Synthysizer V songs, especially the more creepy and macabre stuff.

On that note, they’ve definitely hijacked the mall’s sound systems to play their favorite songs as pranks on people more than once.

They both really like horror games. With poorly made ones, they only play them to riff on them and make fun of their game design. They may or may not have a YouTube channel dedicated to this. They may or may not also do streams as vTubers on that note…

Honestly they like horror content in general. Movies, novels, games, anime, manga, comics, TV shows, art… they’d probably get along great with Daishō!

Real names are Beau Driessen and Robin Zaal respectively. Like with Quatorze and Jūrō, Twoson and Fourside’s backstories are connected. Twoson was severely injured in what was ruled an “accident”, to the point of only having two options: go full-cyber, or just stay bedridden for the rest of their life. Meanwhile, Fourside went full-cyber in order to bury their old identity, after having taken care of the people who caused the “accident”. Both of them going full-cyber happened in their late 20s, they're both about 35 now.

They were both writers before going full-cyber, and the “accident” was caused by some rivals they had to deal with. After the conversion, they heard about DOT EXE as a full-cyber crew, and decided to join up with them.

They are very protective of one another. Fourside in particular will get very vicious against anyone who tries to hurt Twoson, even if it’s another DOT EXE member.

They’re also the type to use insults to show affection to each other, “You nerd!”, “You’re such a dork!”, etc. Towards anyone else, it’s genuine insults.

Twoson specifically:

The voice they use when going around as a civilian is an androgynous synthesized voice that’s a bit on the higher side.

Twoson is the nicer of the two, for what it’s worth, but still tends to be obnoxious at times. They also like to be fakely sweet sometimes, especially when trying to get a favor out of someone else.

For fashion, Twoson likes wearing a jean vest covered in a ton of buttons. They also like to wear skirts over cargo capris, tie-dye shirts, chokers/collars, and headbands which have been modified to fit over their head.

They like to do craft stuff sometimes, like origami, needle felting, papercraft, and clay sculptures. They also make the buttons and tie-dye shirts that both themself and Fourside wear.

They make music! The best way to describe it is very weird and also sometimes creepy. Basically ranging from quirky digital/midi music, to dreamy but still unnerving drones and tones, to Silent Hill 1 industrial scary noises.

Besides horror video games, they really like dating sims and visual novels. They have a whole menagerie of what they call their fictional spouses.

Twoson likes the magical girl genre in particular for anime and manga. They actually really hate shows like Puella Magi Madoka Magica that try to subvert the genre or otherwise do an intentionally “edgy” take on it. A lot of magical girl series already have dark themes anyways!

Fourside specifically:

The voice they use when going around as a civilian is an androgynous synthesized voice that’s a bit on the lower side.

Fourside is the meaner of the two, for what it’s worth. They’re more quick to genuinely insult people and use a lot of sarcasm. However, they will be respectful when it counts, usually only for other DOT EXE members.

For fashion, Fourside also likes wearing a jean vest with tons of buttons and tie-dye shirts, like Twoson does. They also wear a skirt over skinny jeans, lots of bracelets, and beanies that Quatorze has made for them.

On that note, Quatorze made some of the thread/string bracelets that Fourside wears, and she showed them how to make bracelets on their own too. So the rest are the ones Fourside made! You can tell which ones were from when they first started out, and which ones are more recent and thus better quality. They’ve also made some of the collars/chokers that Twoson wears.

Fourside does digital art in the form of 3D models and complex MS Paint stuff. They mainly do this just to make weird stuff and put it out their for people to enjoy. A lot of it is very abstract and weird, with a sort of “old-school Internet” vibe a la ENA/Eastern Mind: The Lost Souls of Tong-Nou/Disillusion ST/Hylics/etc.

Besides horror video games, they really love beat ‘em ups and fighting games! Do not challenge them to some of the big ones (Street Fighter, Tekken, Smash Bros, etc.) unless you want to lose.

Fourside has no particular favorite genre for anime/manga, but tends to like series that end up categorized as shōnen. Also really enjoys superhero tokusatsu shows and movies (i.e. stuff like Super Sentai/Power Rangers, Kamen Rider, Ultraman, etc).

Cueball

He’s the lovable goofball basically. Lots of joking around and teasing people, especially his friends! That’s basically how he shows affection a lot of the time.

Though he’s also fiercely loyal to his friends and crew. Mostly because despite being friendly and outgoing, he doesn’t exactly have a lot of friends outside of DOT EXE. Eventually that changes once he joins BRC, but he still cares about and hangs out with his old crewmates.

He’s from the United States, and 8-ball helped him with moving to New Amsterdam.

He loves cats! Before he went full-cyber, he was very allergic to cats and wasn’t allowed to have any because of that. After going full-cyber, he eventually realized he didn’t have to worry about allergies anymore. And so he set out to adopt ALL the cats, lol. It got bad enough to be a hoarding situation, and the rest of DOT EXE at the time (8-ball, Cinco, and Neun, this being before any of the other and Cueball himself joining) had to step in for an intervention. They got the cats rehomed or put in adoption centers/cat shelters, and Cueball decided to just volunteer at those shelters to help out. A much better situation for everyone involved, especially the cats!

Cueball owns a ton of blankets and pillows, and likes to make his own pillow forts and stuff in his room for Extra Comfort. Also sometimes throws them in a clothes dryer to make them warm. With the thing about body sensors for full-cyber people I mentioned earlier, Cueball is of course the one that takes full advantage of the sensors whenever he can!

Quatorze has made whole blankets for Cueball. He doesn’t like to admit it, but he does appreciate those blankets, they’re very comfy.

His favorite kinds of video games are action, action-adventure, and search action (a.k.a “Metroidvania”).

Cueball hates his real voice for the most part, and he’s the only one who will keep using the default DOT EXE voice even when alone with the rest of the crew. They do know what he sounded like before he used that default voice (he only started using it all the time after he joined DOT EXE), but it’s been so long that most of them have forgotten it by now.

When it comes to fashion, Cueball’s “style” is more about comfort than anything else. Hoodies! Sweatpants! Sweaters! Oversized t-shirts! Comfy socks! Super comfy sneakers! Sometimes various winter hats if he can find any that will fit over his head lol. He has a ton of stuff that Quartoze has made for him, though he feels embarrassed to actually wear them outside of the hideout.

As mentioned previously, he doesn’t bother changing his screen face to a different one from his billiards face. Though he will change the red triangle in the middle to different emojis or reaction images/gifs for expressions. Or otherwise to mess with people.

So Cueball is the only one who doesn't bother with the voice changing nor face changing. The only thing different is his clothes. If a cop suspects he's the same Cueball from DOT EXE, he basically goes, "Oh? You think I look like a criminal just because I'm full-cyber too? Prejudice much?!" and that actually gets them to back down most of the time lol

He used to do programming and other computer related tasks (including messing with servers and hardware) as a job after going full-cyber and before eventually joining DOT EXE. He’s still good at those things too! But at least now he keeps up with those more as a hobby, which he honestly prefers. He thus tends to refuse to help with the IT stuff for the mall, he’s sick of doing that kind of thing for work.

He wanted in on the crew mostly because he was sick of feeling “left behind” by everyone else whenever they’d go out to do writer stuff. By the time he joined, Quatorze, Jūrō, Twoson, and Fourside had already become part of the crew.

He’s the only DOT EXE member with no prior experience as a writer (especially before going full-cyber), and so he’s had to put in a lot of practice with the rest of the crew. Due to his lack of skills, he was only really allowed to join because his older brother 8-ball let him join, and even then only after Cueball begged him about it a lot.

On that note, and as mentioned in 8-ball’s section, Cueball and 8-ball are specifically half-brothers. They cared about each other, and 8-ball very much tried to help out his little brother whenever he could. Back when the two of them were still full-flesh, they weren’t too close, but at least kept in touch via email and sometimes actual postcards despite the age difference between them. Mostly 8-ball wanted to be sure Cueball had another adult he could turn to if he was in trouble, because he knows how their dad is.

After moving to New Amsterdam, they did get a little closer as brothers. Cueball has a lot of admiration for his older brother because of his writer activities, though sometimes Cueball would be annoyed or even hate 8-ball for (in his eyes) “babying” him when 8-ball was just trying to keep him safe. Eventually, sometime after 8-ball died, Cueball mostly just regrets not really knowing 8-ball that well in the end.

Cueball starts trying to get into rhythm games after 8-ball’s death, and he even tries to join in on the rhythm game competitions with Cinco and Neun. He’s getting pretty good at it!

He does a lot of pranks with Twoson and Fourside. Also prank wars between the three of them! Neun makes a point to have plans outside of New Amsterdam for the weeks surrounding April Fools Day, while the rest of the crew just roll with it.

Besides Twoson and Fourside, Cueball gets along fairly well with Cinco, Jūrō, and Quatorze. For the last one, he has accidentally called her mom once, and he had her swear to never tell anyone else what happened.

He’s dating Bō! Cueball is really big on physical touch as a show of affection. He is thus incredibly cuddly and big on handholding and hugs! He also cuts back on the jokes and teasing just for Bō (for the most part).

He used to do a lot of cooking and baking before he went full-cyber. Once he started dating Bō, he actually go back into cooking to be able to cook stuff for his boyfriend! He still remembers all of the recipes he tried out, plus reads up on new ones to try. Unfortunately, due to of course having no sense of taste now, he has to either use recipes that don’t need tasting in between steps, stick with recipes that he already knows Bō likes, or otherwise make sure Bō is around for taste-testing.

Bō is the only one who knows what Cueball’s real voice sounds like, and even then Cueball only uses it when they’re alone together in private.

Real name Ernesto Alberto Visser. Cueball got Covid when he was about 15. The resulting long Covid was bad enough that, in his early 20s, he decided to just go full-cyber instead of continuing to suffer. His older brother 8-ball helped him out with that. At first it was just helping him move to New Amsterdam to get better medical treatment (and to get away from their dad and Cueball’s mom for that matter) once Cueball turned 18. Eventually that lead to helping Cueball with going full-cyber once the treatments proved ineffective. He did so sometime after 8-ball, Neun, and Cinco went full-cyber themselves. Cueball is about 43 during the time of the game.

Cueball originally had plans to become a chef or at least a baker, but when he got sick, part of the problems from his Covid infection was that his sense of taste got completely messed up. He was originally going to do programming as a hobby thing. But once he went full-cyber, he did programming as a full time job since he didn’t have anything else going for him, until eventually joining DOT EXE many years later.

Because of why he went full-cyber, he is distrustful of doctors (due to both the quack doctors his parents forced him to see to pretend that his Covid symptoms “weren’t that bad”, and the actual doctors later on who knew how serious his condition was but couldn’t do much for him anyways). He insists on accompanying his full-flesh friends to their doctor appointments to make sure they’re safe!!

#bomb rush cyberfunk #bomb rush cyberfunk headcanons #brc headcanons #brc dot exe #dot exe OCs #they might as well be OCs at this rate yeesh!! #kinda like what happened with Devil Theory :u #fan art

[thewertsearch]

Asks Comp 15/5

@manorinthewoods submitted: I believe I got confused about the omnipotence thing because I'd talked about it in some Discord server or other. My interpretation of the confusing usage of 'omnipotent' is that it specifically refers to any individual with the ability to exert unlimited power upon at least one individual. This allows for a system where one omnipotent can be more powerful than another, such as a Horrorterror being stronger than a First Guardian. [...] That's all I wanted to say.

The problem is that I don't really understand what it means to exert 'unlimited power' over someone.

Does it mean that you have full control over that person's actions? Or perhaps, the ability to change their nature in any way imaginable? Neither of these traits apply to First Guardians - their powers are centered around controlling space, not people.

Doc Scratch exerts power over Vriska, but his influence isn't absolute. If it was, she wouldn't have been able to use the cueball behind his back. Maybe I'm just misunderstanding what you mean by unlimited power.

Probably! There are already a lot of human/troll interactions going on, so their relationships will inevitably evolve.

I recommended a few webcomics last year. They're all decent theory-fodder, particularly Paranatural.

That said, none of them are as good as Homestuck at doing what Homestuck does. This is a very unique story, and I'm also not sure what, if anything, I'll liveblog after this is done. I'm certainly enjoying liveblogging, so there probably will be a next project - and I remain open to suggestions.

Dang it. Well, I'm still showing up in search, so at least I'm not shadowbanned this time. Maybe a glitch on your end?

I don't think you're wrong, exactly - but to be honest, there seems to be a bigger issue here than unreliable narration. I still have trouble understanding how any kismesissitude can be healthy.

The prophecy is true!

It's kind of cool that the kids' entire fortune is likely seeded from John's original stockpile. All that Grist we picked up in Act 2 actually went somewhere!

Oh, nice! I feel like there'd be too many combinations to effectively crowdsource, though, unless the pool of alchemy ingredients was extremely small. If you really wanted to implement alchemy in a game, it'd probably have to be at least partially procedural.

To be fair, I have to give credit to John on this one. Some of his funniest moments are when he's not trying to be a jokester.

I know! I probably wasn't clear enough about my question.

My question is whether the phrase 'the numerals of the blind prophets' is a reference all on its own. The phrase is a little out of left field, and the comic itself hasn't explained it.

Pretty sure John's has already been explained - he needs to wake his Denizen and save his fireflies!

As for Jade's, it's indeed hard to say. I thought they'd all be about terraforming, but Dave's seems to break this pattern. Maybe his Quest isn't what it seems - or maybe I was just wrong, and a Quest can be just about anything.

I don't think I'll be able to guess Jade's, since it'll involve the features of a Land we haven't yet seen. All I can say for sure is that it'll have something to do with Space.

Hell yes! This blog's hidden objective - to plug The Locked Tomb - is finally bearing fruit.

It's easy for Aradia to do what she does, because she ''knows'' that she could never have done anything else. 'Understanding' this lets her be reckless.

Once you can convince someone their choices don't matter, you can convince them to do whatever you want.

I prefer Prospit's aesthetics, but Derse's vibes. The Horrorterrors are a better suspicious patron than Skaia - at least they'll help me break the game.

That said, the official quiz assigned me Prospit. Maybe I misunderstand the moons - but from where I'm currently sitting, Derse is the better choice.

The question isn't whether Sburb would screw them over - it's how it would.

I like the idea that Sburb started with only Sprites, and slowly assimilated its victors into its later iterations.

Each Sburb species represents a video game trope, so I could see an aggressive species like the trolls as a border patrol. They're angry, aggressive NPCs who fly their warships around the Veil, making sure Players don't leave the session's boundaries. You're meant to avoid them, not fight them, and they're the bane of any Player who tries to get creative with the Furthest Ring.

Now, what kind of NPC would the humans be?

I'm not a fan of jumpscare horror, but psychological horror can be very interesting indeed.

I didn't expect the comedy meme man to be that good at instilling a sense of dread - but I shouldn't have been surprised. Horror and comedy tread a very fine line.

Thank you!!

This frame in particular is pretty unsettling. Jack never usually shows this much emotion, and you have to wonder if the Ring has gone to his head a little.

Anyway, if we're talking about aesthetics, my favorite area so far is the Battlefield. It's like a chessboard mixed with a Windows XP background, and it's gorgeous in Rise Up.

Neither have been used in the comic, so I'm just going with lusi for convenience's sake!

#full liveblog #asks #act 5.2

[sayakxmi]

Equius: I am a firm supporter of our glorious Empire and the Hemospectrum, and everybody should behave according to that, and I will make sure they know.

Equius: -helps Vriska out after the cueball blew up in her face, and builds her and arm, even though by the law he should've just killed her-

Equius: -builds Aradia, a lowblood, a robot body when he was asked to-

Equius: -assumes him (and Aradia) will lead the Blue Team, but when it turns out it's actually Sollux, a lowblood psionic, who is the leader, he apparently does nothing about it-

Equius: -apparently doesn't oppose Karkat, a hemoanonymous troll, when he becomes the leader-

Equius: -builds Tavros, yet another lowblood, robot legs when he was asked to-

Equius: -actually listens to Karkat, a mutant-

Equius: -he actually doesn't kneel when he is told by a highblood to do so-

Equius: Glory to the Empire.

#revolution aus writers be like: equius is kept away from everything in fear of him turning them to the empire #real equius is having an existential crisis as a bunch of wanted trolls/rebels are holding a war meeting in his hive #that he let them into #even though he knew they were wanted & rebels #equius zahhak #homestuck #fr tho it's interesting how what he claims to believe in and what he actually chooses to do doesn't align

[fellowcuratorforanything]

Alright! Pretty scared to do this, but hiiiiiii! I'm Kuzuki, but you can call me Kuzi, if you want. For the past year, all I've ever done was reblog people's works, ones I know I want to remember, and ones I know people would love.

But, this year... I wanted something... more. I wanted to spread my metaphorical wings and fly. I wanted to soar. I wanted to pursue my passion.

I wanted... to be a writer.

I didn't think much of it. I was like "pfft, okay, as if anyone would notice your works." But as I gaze upon all these lovely fic writers, all of which I passionately love their works, having their best time in life, I realised.

I could do anything. I can write works, even if no one sees it. I can write, knowing that I'd be doing myself a favor. I can write... and I'd be happy.

Now, writing is a fickle thing. I know some people struggle to write, whether that's lack of motivation, imagination, or inspiration. But I still love them for trying. Reading people's works was what kept me going during my childhood, marvelling at their story and the emotion in each and every one of them, and I want to be like that.

So, I'm starting a fanfic series. About my favourite series. A new alternate universe, a new place to explore.

Defying the Red Strings of Fate

It's already in my bio, and I really like the plot.

But I mostly write this post to dedicate my thanks to all these wonderful people who have inspired me to pursue my dreams.

To the writers:

@melishade @justawannabearchaeologist @fangirlingpuggle @vee-skies @favesgrave @techni-cal-writing @i-mean-technically @lets-try-some-writing @lightninghikaru @kadarirat @solalunar-eclipse @iliterallydecepticanteven @ithiliam @its-kall-the-clown @nottheweirdest

I thank you all for your amazing dedication and work. Your writing is fantastic! Amazing, even! Every update from each of you brings a smile to my face.

(Except Endgame. That one really hurt. Also the scene where Eren tried to kill himself and Megs had to stop him-

Yeah...)

And don't forget the artists:

@tulipsempai @zu-is-here @hheisa @skoff-the-artist @thespectral-wolf @thebadsansbandits @sonicrift @sonic-anomaly @sonicexelle-junkary @sonic-bloodmoon @sonicdesolation @starrjoy @rewindedart @pastelpaperplanes @sonicthelastofus @spacecolonie @xynnoix @moringmark @deadshadowcreature @kirsanoff @ask-cueball @ending-the-cycle-ask @slylock-syl @journeytomonkiekid @perfectstevenau @revolver-d @zephyrine-gale @tatatale

(Oh my, do I really follow all those people? Wow.)

Anyways-

You all are so talented with digital art, I just can't even comprehend!

You all brighten the day with all the little works and gifts, and I really enjoy squinting to see if I can find any hidden details.

And the COMICS! Oh my gosh, the story is so well-made! And in suspense too!

I know some of you are currently in hiatus, and that's ok. :) as long as you see this post someday, that'll make me happy.

So thank you, for being here on Tumblr.

*dramatically exits*

#transformers #tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing #thank you #tw mention of death #tw trauma #tw angst

[lime-bloods]

I believe you had once noted that sopor slime resembled cartoonish nuclear waste -- since the slime's an apparent avenue of Lord English influencing the population (or just damaging it), do think that might relate to Scratch's "seeds" being nuclear bombs?

i gave this ask some thought offline and mostly came up with lines to draw between the cue balls and recuperacoons more broadly, not necessarily along the nuke line, so this is a bit of stream of consciousness...

sleeping and crystal balls are both methods of fortune telling? the cue ball and recuperacoons are both computers of a sort (was Scratch's method of helping with Kanaya's "daywalking" at all similar to Jake's computerised remedy for Jade's "sleepwalking")? the cue ball seed is also seemingly filled with some kind of slime - dark water, sloshing about the cavity in [Scratch's] head - and in fact the biggest nuke of all, the Tumor, famously turned two giant vials of 8ball slime into a giant radioactive sun... perhaps that's your in? (if I'm not mistaken, Hiveswap also makes some reference to radioactive mind honey "runoff" - literally equating the slime in Alternian computers to irradiated slag)

in a tangentially similar vein, we can think of the seed itself as a cocoon... I think it was BKEW who forwarded that the cue ball that English's head breaks out of was like a chrysalis stage that filtered out the unneeded parts of Dirk and Equius that he didn't need..? does anyone have that post?

when we pit cue ball and recuperacoon against each other, though, what my instinct immediately says is that if the cocoon is a part of the pool table, it's a pocket... specifically, if the slime serves the purpose of "relaxing ooze [that] helps assuage the terrible visions of blood and carnage that plague the dark subconscious of your species", then can we see the cocoon as one of the "dark pockets" one can retreat into to avoid English's omnipresent glare? keeping in mind, of course, that dark pockets are, in and of themselves, English's tools. cocoons as voyeur-bots/beds also puts a different spin on the idea that "no information can escape" a dark pocket.

some of my earliest speculation into the function of the recuperacoon was in response to some analysis of the Evangelion film series, in which slime (LCL here) and black holes are both functionally gateways to the same womb dimension. in this scenario, the sopor slime is one method of making sure Alternia remains a planet of preteens who never grow up, by forcing them to return to their cocoons and dissolve bodily in order to be reborn again as children every day and night. but is this not also literally the fate Caliborn is condemned to? struggling every night to be born as a world-eating monster, only to be pulled into a black hole and have to live it all over again, ad infinitum?

I mused recently that Caliborn's session acts as a purgatory, presumably holding him prisoner on a desertified earth until he can brute force his way into maturity and break free. so in the same way that Caliborn's house juju acts as a physical stand-in for Homestuck itself - four kids trapped within and forced to grow strong enough to break out - maybe the cueball is the very same thing for Caliborn, an eggshell containing the very essence of his journey, which can only be 8r8ken out of when the weakest parts of him have been dissolved away by radioactive acid? again - the seed as a cocoon. (and the cocoon as a bomb?)

I'm not sure any of this really answers your question, beyond the vague notion that maybe radioactive sludge is an anti maturing agent? (sterilisation via radiation?) but to cap things off, thinking of the cue ball seed as a bomb did make me think back to Problem Sleuth's jawbreaker bomb, which was literally just a candy shell around a highly volatile infinite recursion of realities. that's all I've got!

#homestuck #analysis #mmmmalo #black holes #computers #doc scratch #caliborn #is there some other theory umbrella i should tag this under. #long post. do people still like that to be tagged

[ask-cueball]

Hey...been a while, hasn't it?

So this comic has been at a standstill for a while now. I'd like to have a talk about that, and about how we'll be going forward from here, and I need to ask your opinion on something as well. There's a poll under the cut but I'd appreciate if you could read the rest of my ramble before voting.

So, uh...prepare for a word wall, heh. Sorry.

This year has been slow for Ask Cueball for several reasons. First, Arc 1 ended, and there was a long break because of that. Then physical injuries made me unable to draw for a long time. But neither of those really apply anymore. I've healed from my injury (and learning to help what didn't heal) and if you follow my main art blog you'd know that I've been drawing again for a while.

So I've been thinking lately about why it's been so hard for me to work on Ask Cueball, and I think it comes down to two things - one part of it has to do with my art and how it's grown and changed, and the other is my interests and how THOSE have grown and changed.

I do like Ask Cueball's art style, I like how simple and clean and consistent and expressive it is. I think Ask Cueball is really what helped me start to develop my own personal style. But at the same time...at this point, my style has evolved beyond it. Ask Cueball was drawn with a mouse on an old broken laptop. Since then, everything has updated and changed. It feels counterproductive to go back to my old methods of art, like I'm limiting myself, going backwards.

And then when it comes to interests...once again if you follow my art blog, you've probably noticed I haven't drawn anything Sonic or shapebot related in a long time. Things change, I've discovered new things, found myself in fandoms that are...honestly WAY kinder and chiller than the Sonic fandom (because let's be honest, even in our little corner of shapebot hell with a population of like 20 people there's still been some drama).

But, all that said...I still love this place. I love the story, the characters, all of it. I love my fans, especially those who have stuck around even throughout this slow, uneventful year. I love this comic. Which is why I'm refusing to end it here. I want to keep Ask Cueball going, and I've set a hard deadline for myself to release a comic post in November. After that, well...this is where I need your help.

My thought was that maybe it might be quicker for me to update Ask Cueball if I did it in sketches? But I don't want to lower the visual quality...and then that last legitimate option, the one with the comic being cancelled? I will only do that one if it gets above 90% approval. I don't want to end the comic like that, I want to see it through to completion, but if this is what we think we need to do then we will do it.

So basically, this poll is asking what's more important to you, the speed or the quality:

The first option will likely be slowest, but the comic won't lose ANY of it's quality or polish. This is what I'd like to do but I worry about how long it may be between posts.

The second option should be a little quicker, but the comic will be worse, sloppier with little-to-no color, and will no longer have its clean quality.

The third option (again, only happens if it gets above 90%) will be the quickest, as I will just tell you the remaining story over probably 1-3 posts, with little to no art at all, and then it will be done. The comic is over.

Regardless of what wins, the next post will be coming out in November, and it will be in the old style, as it is partially complete and I don't want to switch styles mid-post. I do not guarantee returning to our old weekly posting schedule, REGARDLESS of which option wins the vote.

I felt guilty that I missed the 3rd Anniversary in September, but I also felt like I hadn't done enough this year to really celebrate the 3rd year as though the blog was still going as strong as it had before. I hope that going forward, we won't have to miss the 4th too.

TL;DR - Ask Cueball hasn't been active much this year for several reasons, but it will be coming back.

#ooc #behind the bots #announcement #blog updates #poll #please read #long post

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[yesterdays-xkcd]

Scientists are also sexy, let's not forget that.

Beliefs [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

[A girl with long black hair and a professor who looks like Megan stand together. The girl points to Cueball in the distance.] Girl: Professor, that man claims the earth is 6,000 years old! Professor: So? Just use your head and don't concern yourself overmuch with what other people think.

[Cueball is gone and the girl is no longer pointing but just talking to the professor.] Girl: But he says the fossils in the mountains were put there in a flood! Professor: Well, evidence suggests that they were not. Girl: But he--

[A mountain landscape with blue sky to the left with white clouds, gray clod cover to the right and gray mountains below. The most prominent peak is just right of the middle, but there are 14 small and large peaks all in all.] Professor (off-panel): A million people can call the mountains a fiction, yet it need not trouble you as you stand atop them.

[The girl throws her hands in the air while the professor just looks at her.] Girl: But he believes the silliest things! Professor: So?

[The girl has her arms down again and looks on the talking professor.] Professor: The universe doesn't care what you believe. Professor: The wonderful thing about science is that it doesn't ask for your faith, it just asks for your eyes.

[The girl and professor talks.] Girl: But he's a US senator! Professor: Ah, then yes, we do have a bit of a situation.

#xkcd #xkcd 154 #beliefs #2000s #2006

[whynotshaveme]

The Humble Wife

(Microstory #1)

By whynotshaveme

Bob loved everything about Annie except her attitude. One day, as he watched her get ready in the bathroom, styling her beautiful red hair, he had an idea. He asked her to meet him at his barber's after work for a suprise, which she agreed, eager to have him cater to her.

That night, Annie arrived at the barber's early. Bob motioned for her to come. Once she was inside the shop, the barber locked the doors and shut the blinds. Bob then forced Annie into the barber's chair. To ensure that she wouldn't run, he duct-taped her wrists and ankles to the chair. He also slapped a piece across her mouth. The barber then dramatically draped a cape around her.

"Oh, brother, thank you," said the barber, picking up his clippers.

Annie watched in the mirror as the barber buzzed off her carefully styled hair. It took five years for it to finally reach her breasts. Tears ran down her face. Once she sported a buzzcut, grade zero, the barber put down his clippers. Bob smiled as he rubbed Annie's bristly head. As he thought, his wife, with her long face and big ears, did not suit the look. He told the barber to shave her bald as a cueball.

The barber leered. "You got it."

That night, Annie, her bald head gleaming from a bath of spunk, both from her husband and the barber, and her face still red from crying, meekly watched her husband throw out her make-up.

"Humble," said Bob, "Like a wife should be, baldie."

[masterqwertster]

🤔 Xandis please!

Let's see...

Xandis took an anti-hair growth potion to achieve their baldness. Because can you imagine how hard it would be to get a good shave around those horns? Or pretty much any tiefling horns that don't just go up and away from the head.

For a while, Xandis did try shaving for the cueball look, but it was such a bitch to get the areas under the curve of his horns. So he spent a little cash on a balding potion (usually used as a prank or petty revenge item) to achieve the look.

He does own a hair growth potion as well. Just in case he ever changes his mind about how sexy he looks bald.

This ask

#MQ&A #critical role #cr3 #cr c3 #cr campaign 3 #bells hells #captain xandis #character meta

[bgs-cave-o-thots]

Rules: Make a new post and post your latest line from your WIP and tag as many people as there are words.

I stole it bc no one stopped me. Thanks @authorleaandres I am now robbing you. Guess I'll shoot out a line from Ask Cueball since I don't really write fics these days.

"WE DON'T GOTTA WORRY ABOUT ALL THAT NO MORE." Cubot was trying to be reassuring. "Yes, you're right…" Orbot says with little confidence. He looks back over his shoulder...there was the holographic apparition, still waiting and watching his every move. "...nothing to worry about..."

Anyone who wants to do it consider yourself tagged. We run on thievery here :)

#bg rambles #ask cueball #little longer than one line but eh #idk why i felt the desire to do this i usually dont with these things but eh #probably just tired of keeping all the ask cueball lore bottled up