#post shooter

[post-shooter]

[A mage in purple robes with pluses branded on them walks up.]

Oh, hey. (How did I get to a desert?) You must be the sheriff, of… here. What’s there to do around here?

@purplus

'owdy pardnuh. There hasn't been much to do around here since people stopped coming around. Mostly because they got tired of chili & refried beans. Or didn't like that half the town is always stuck at home doing paperwork. The West is always finding legal ways to put up wanted posters around the town. Oh, that reminds me...

{Sheriff points to a conveniently placed TrueDitto wanted poster}

You seen this lil fella around?

#epprbcu #exclamation point pfp rpg blog cinematic universe #!cu #post shooter #punctuationverse

[epprbcu-incorrect-quotes]

Selfarious but Slime, Pheyria, and Sheriff keep walking in just before anything interesting can happen

.

#this is hilarious #selfarious #!Slime #!Pheyria #Post Shooter #epprbcu #exclamation point pfp rpg blog cinematic universe #!cu #punctuationverse #!cu incorrect quotes

[ditto-ditto]

[we also beat a dev to death & have another in what is essentially a torture chamber so thats nice]

Nice. What'd they do anyways?

#post shooter

[call-me-maggie13]

My late 40s to early 50s boss just asked what’s wrong with 18-25 year olds these days

And as a 21 year old all I could think was

The world has been on fire since we were born and we’ve been told the adults are putting it out and now we’re old enough to realize they’ve been pouring kerosene on the flames instead of water.

Before my first birthday, 9/11 happened and the world wouldn’t let us forget it. When I was 6 years old, on September 11th, my teacher sat us down in front of a tv and showed us footage of 9/11 and then told us we weren’t allowed to cry. She said that it was real and those were real people jumping from the building because jumping was a faster death than burning.

When I was 7 years old, the economy collapsed and my family went from lower middle class to poverty, we went from healthy home cooked meals every night to mac and cheese and beans for weeks in a row. We started skipping holidays because mom and dad couldn’t keep the lights on and buy us new toys. We started wearing clothes and shoes until they fell apart.

When I was 11 years old, Sandy Hook was attacked by a grown man with a gun and 26 children and teachers were brutally murdered. My teachers never looked at us the same and I haven’t felt safe in a school since. After that, once a month we would have active shooter drills and we were taught to fight and cause as much damage as possible if an armed man entered our classroom because it gave other classes a few extra seconds to escape, it gave our siblings a few extra breaths of safety. We were taught to cover ourselves in other students blood and play dead if we weren’t hit, we were taught that we weren’t safe and we wouldn’t be safe as long as we were in school.

When I was 15 years old, my high school art teacher locked us in the classroom and told us if we heard gunshots we should line the desks up lengthwise so that they reached the other wall because that would be harder to break through than a barricade. She told us that she knew about the threats and she wouldn’t judge any of us that wanted to leave. She told us to get our siblings and stay in the buildings as long as possible, to duck in between the cars so we couldn’t be seen until we got to ours. She told us about the trail behind the auto shop that was lined with trees and led off campus. I got my brother and his friends and we left, we spent the day sitting on the floor in my living room waiting for a phone call that the people we left behind were dying.

Two weeks later, one of my friends dragged me out of a football game and forced me to go home with him. He grabbed my brothers and my best friend and forced the six of us into a two seater car before he would tell us anything. His mom worked for the school board and had told him the police found an active bomb under the bleachers in the student section, and they weren’t informing anyone because they didn’t want to incite panic.

When I was 16 years old, ISIS set off a bomb at a pop concert in Britain and killed 22 people, injuring at least 100 more. The next day at school, our teachers went over how to stay safe if we ever experienced something like that. They told us the most important thing to remember was to not remove any shrapnel because it could be keeping us from bleeding out, they said it was more important to get yourself out safely before you worried about anyone else.

When I was 18 years old, my teachers stopped teaching and put the news up on the projector and we watched as the Notre-Dame burned. The boy I had sat next to since second grade spent the entire day trying to call his sister who was studying abroad in Paris, I watched this kid I had never even seen frown fall apart in English because she wouldn’t pick up the phone. We didn’t know it at the time, but she was okay.

Six months later, my history teacher put the news on the projector again for another fire. This time, we watched as an entire continent burned for three months. We watched their sky turned orange from the smoke and their wildlife drowned in pools because they were trying to escape the heat.

When I was 19 years old, the whole world shut down because of a global pandemic. I didn’t meet a single new person for eight months, despite the fact that I had just moved across the country. I watched as people didn’t wear masks and spread it to everyone around them, I was so scared when I went back to my room every night because my roommate was immunocompromised and I was terrified I would give her Covid and kill her.

Just two months later, I watched a video of a black man being murdered by police officers. I watched the world around me explode after George Floyd’s death, people destroying businesses and police stations. I watched some of my friends realize police officers didn’t exist to keep them safe, they existed to keep the people in power in power. I learned that some of the people I had grown up with would rather watch a black man die than admit that maybe, maybe, the system was broken.

When I was 20 years old, I went to the mall with a friend to buy a birthday present and I was pulled to the ground by a twelve-year-old girl after gunshots went off in the mall. I held this child’s hands as she cried for two hours until we were evacuated by police, and then I waited with her outside and helped her look for her mom. I gave her my phone to call her mom and I watched as she called the number over and over and never got a reply. I waited with her until a police officer took her to the station to try to find out more information about the girl’s mom, I hugged this girl I had never seen before and I wished her the best. I never found out what happened to her or her mom, it keeps me up at night sometimes worrying that this little girl was orphaned.

When I was 21 years old, I started working at a daycare and exactly a week later, Uvalde happened and I found myself crying because my students are the same age those kids were. When they came in after school the next day, one of them had asked me if I had heard about Uvalde and I told her I had, I asked her if she was scared of going to school because of it. Her reply broke my heart. “We practice for it every week so that when it happens to us, we know what to do. I’m just worried that the shooter is going to start in my baby sister’s classroom and not mine.” I listened as other students with younger siblings agreed with her, one of them saying “I would take fifty bullets, if I had to to keep my little brother safe.”

Early this year, I watched Russia launched bombs into Ukraine, blowing up churches and schools and hospitals and apartment buildings. I watched as the estimated death count rose from the hundreds to the thousands to the tens of thousands. I watched men send their wives and children to bordering countries for refuge while they stayed behind to fight, knowing they would probably never see each other again.

Just four months ago, I watched as my right to medical privacy got taken away. I watched my old roommate fall apart because she was denied the right to have her dead fetus removed from her body for almost two days, I worried every time I looked away from her that the next time I saw her would be in a casket. I watched as the women around me realized the military-grade weapons that had torn children in classrooms apart were protected by the government but our bodies weren’t.

There is nothing “wrong” with my generation, we’ve experienced all these things as children and were expected to respond with patriotism for a country that continuously sacrificed their children for the “right” to military-grade weapons, that took away my freedom of choice. We are tired, we were told the world was a wonderful place then shown, at every step, how the world was a place of destruction and pain. And we are angry. We are angry because no one but us seems to be trying to fix anything. And we are scared. We are scared because our children, our nieces and nephews, our cousins and our friends children are growing up in a world that won’t protect them.

#gen z post #generation z #gen z experience #tw 9/11 #9/11 mention #9/11 #tw active shooter #active shooter tw #tw gun mention #gun tw #tw abortion mention #tw gun violence #tw bombing #shooting at uvalde #uvalde #uvalde school massacre #uvalde school shooting #the war on Ukraine #ukraine war #fuck russia #george floyd #george floyd protests #Ariana grande concert bombing #notre dame cathedral #notre dame cathedral fire #fire in Notre dame #notre dame fire #sandy hook #sandy hook school shooting #sandy hook shooting

[bakedbakermom]

txf + text posts (7/?)

(scully really needs to keep mulder on a leash)

#txf #txf gifset #txfedit #txf edit #txf + text posts #liwl makes a gif #dailytxf #txf s1 #txf s2 #txf s3 #txf s5 #txf s7 #wetwired #beyond the sea #the sixth extinction ii: amor fati #jersey devil #first person shooter #chinga #colony

[witchoil]

Ghosts as a whole concept make me so fucking insane. they’re just people and they’re the living engines of a brutal war and they’re the fragile shield between every Guardian and their last death and they do terrible things in the name of love and they are a kind of love incarnate and and and

#they are like infants they are capable of instigating immeasurable harm they are sometimes goofy and ours has existential depression #destiny 2 #destiny #this is a post about Ghosts from the looter shooter mmo Destiny 2

[serialunaliver]

OP does research, she must be a complete sicko

#(​on my post about reactionary politics of school shooters that the media glosses over)

[cherry-bomb1985]

I feel like The Father and Hell both understand and experience love in all the worst ways.

The Father sought to create a life form that would follow and love him unconditionally. It wasn't enough that he had a great cosmic kingdom of angels who are unquestioningly loyal, no, he needed something that knew suffering and mortality and the threat of oblivion, and would still find love at the end; love for him above all else. But after numerous implied failures at that, in his desperation, he instead created the threat of eternal damnation to force them to love him in order avert that fate. Lucifer's words must have been like a splash of cold water, but by the time he realized sheer magnitude of suffering he had unintentionally set into motion, it was too late. He could not destroy Hell; he could not stop the cycle of violence.

That guilt drove him to seek a death that, from the looks of it, eluded him in spite of the hollowness consuming him. And now he is... somewhere, helpless to stop his experiments from consuming one another and themselves in a glorious show of blood and violence.

And then there's Hell itself, who seems to recognize love as an act of violence and cruelty. It is something that derives joy only from the suffering of other living creatures. God gave it so many toys to hurt and break and reform, and Mankind gave it new ones. Why would it understand love as anything but? It gave Minos a facsimile of the son he is most ashamed of, and delighted when he cast it, once more, into a labyrinth. Gabriel flattened all the souls within it's confines beneath his heel and gave those that did bend false hopes.

Now there's V1, tearing its way through the remaining layers and creating a spectacle of violence like nothing Hell has ever witnessed before. How could it not love them all for all the entertainment they've provided?

But deep within its recesses, hidden away from the eyes of Heaven, there was a Gutterman. A machine built for war, who eventually came to love that which it gave it life at the cost of their own. Enough to give the human welded within their coffin the mercy that both Heaven and Hell had denied them; enough to write a single love letter to them, even knowing that it would never be read by its intended recipient.

So, as things turn out, you /can/ teach a machine to love. And they will understand and experience it more sincerely than God or Hell ever could.

#ULTRAKILL #ULTRAKILL spoilers #Mind you this is all just speculation #We still don't know if Hell is aware that the machines will inevitably try to consume it too once the souls and demons run dry #and if it is then whether or not it has a plan to stop that from happening or if it actually /wants/ to be destroyed #or perhaps--like Father like creation--it simply thinks it /cannot/ be destroyed #and we certainly still don't know where God fucked off to after his suicide attempt or why #If he left to seek the end of his days elsewhere #Or--as the first testament might imply--if he's got a new angle #Sorry 7-S got my brain buzzing and there's not a whole lot of game left to get the answers to those particular questions #If they are intended to be answered at all or simply left unknown by the blank slate boomer shooter protagonist #through which we all experience this wild ride #Anyways not a lot of this fandom talks about the Testaments effectively being God's vent posts #and I find both amusement and mild horror at their very existence

[thefemalejoker42069]

Rest in Peace to Savannah Graziano, a 15 year old girl who was shot and killed by police while trying to seek help after being abducted by her father

#American police once again being as incompetent and evil as humanly possible #memorial post #they treat women and girls of color worse than abusers and mass shooters

[spid3r-trans]

so I have an au idea:

punkflower tangled au

a/n: had to work out some details w this one sorry it took longer! i really couldn’t get my head wrapped around like a fantasy setting for this so it’s kind of different. i hope it’s ok!

~

Miles is different from the others. He knows that. He’s an anomaly— that’s what he’s been told for as long as he can remember. He knows that he has to stay here, in this place, because if he doesn’t the entire thread of the universe could start to unravel.

People would die. So he stays put.

Hobie is different from the others. He’s more stubborn, more curious, and far less likely to follow orders. So when he hears a rumor about a boy in a tower, well, it’s only second nature to want to find out the truth for himself.

The gravity-defying, sleek structure that sits in the center of Nueva York is a mystery to most onlookers. Rumors of twisting elevators, endless hallways, and secret rooms pass in hushed whispers between lips — and Hobie knows they’re all true.

He’s sneaking through those very halls now, sticking to the shadows, keeping his head down. Being here is supposed to be a privilege, an honor, a tribute to his abilities. It’s all bullshit. He just needs to prove it.

In the outside world, talks about what they really do at the facility are common. Speculations, accusations, doubts — Hobie often spearheads such conversations himself. There’s something undeniably suspicious about conducting and preserving the events of the entire multiverse based on the theories of one man.

Hobie was never meant to overhear the high-spirited A.I. talking to the leader of the operation. He was never meant to hack into the security archives and pinpoint the exact location they spoke of— and he most certainly was never supposed to make his way there. Still, the heavy echo of his boots reverberates as he makes his way down the empty hall.

Deep within the confines of the building that houses the society, Hobie comes to a vast, empty room. Automatic lights click on when he enters, making him squint at the sight before him. A strange metallic structure juts abruptly from the floor, rising high into the air and doming at the top.

It’s a tower.

Of all the outlandish rumors he heard, Hobie had hoped this one was a myth.

—

Fuck. His head hurts. Hobie slowly regains consciousness, starting to move his hand to feel what must be a massive lump forming on his forehead — only to realize that he can’t. He’s tied to a chair and his web-shooters are gone.

Panic doesn’t have a chance to set in before his spider sense — which has decided to work now — goes off, and a figure emerges from the shadows.

A boy, apprehensive and wielding a frying pan glowers at Hobie from across the room.

“Who are you?” He asks, “And how did you find me?”

—

Miles needed convincing. It’s not easy to leave a place when you’re told the entire multiverse could collapse and it would be your fault— but Miles wants to go.

Hobie is convincing. He tells Miles in his silly accent about what’s really out there. About the experiences Miles can still have— he wants Miles to come with him.

Sneaking out of the facility is no easy task. Hobie almost wonders if it was worth it, if he did the right thing — but when they stumble into one of the few spots left in Nueva York where nature thrives, Miles smiles.

And in that brief moment, Hobie knows.

Send an army, let the entire multiverse collapse — he’ll be by Miles’ side.

#sorry this isn’t EXACTLY the story you might’ve been looking for i rlly couldn’t get the fantasy setting to play out the way i wanted #i could see a bunch of rlly cute stuff happening after they bust out tho #i had this whole thing about hobie teaching miles how to use his web shooters #oh and they meet gwen and pav at what’s essentially the snuggly duckling #definitely couldn’t fit it all in one post but. consider it #anyway my dark secret is that i was a rapunzel rp blog in my youth #ok goodnight #fens fables #fens fics #punkflower #flowerpunk

[weepylucifer]

Oh yeah i just remembered what i meant to post. Okay so i think people who perceive the student commies as extremely gatekeepy and stuck up just. may not ever have seen what happens when you go into the commie quest with a Harry who has low int and/or hasn't read that many books like...

if Harry has only read Hjelmdallermann, Steban and Ulixes meet him at that level and discuss Hjelmdallermann. If Harry has only read the alphabet book for little kids, they discuss the alphabet. There's an option for Harry to say "I may not have read many books, but I tell a good story" and then just talk about the case or random shit he got up to during the last three days, and not only will the students be polite about it and tell Harry that he brings an interesting new perspective to the group, they'll be visibly enraptured by his stories. They'll initially say that they do entrance exams and things like that, but they immediately stop insisting on it and, if the circumstances align, offer an option to join the group by simply punching Steban in the face. They're even very patient with "are women bourgeois".

I went into the meeting also thinking "Wow, these guys think i'm not worth their time unless i've read all these books" but once i go over it again, there's not really any hard evidence that they think that. They do brag a lot about how well-read they are and broadly assume that everyone present knows what they're talking about when they're quoting theory, but the whole "they're a petit-bourg intellectual class who think they're too good to interact with actual working people" interpretation seems overly harsh (especially since they have tried to recruit actual working people).

On the Doylist level, the encounter is written that way so that everyone, regardless of what build their Harry is, can finish the commie quest in a satisfying way. But DE is a well-written game where gameplay mechanics are justified with plot and characterization, so the reason why every build of Harry can succeed at the commie quest is because Steban is written as a person who, while certainly being all kinds of a dork, seeks dialogue with you no matter what you hit him with (figuratively as well as literally)

#steban's got shooters out there. ulixes iosef dros And Me #posts by me #harry: i don't know what a 'book' is but here's a story of how i got my dick caught in a ceiling fan #steban: because of dialectics i need to hear this #steban the student communist

[post-shooter]

{A Sheriff sits in a ranch watching cowboy movies}

{Are the movies based off their town, or is their town based off the movies?}

{They scream, for they do not know}

#epprbcu #exclamation point pfp rpg blog cinematic universe #!cu #post shooter

[epprbcu-incorrect-quotes]

The heavy is dead, but with EPPRBCU (from discord) if it was fleshed out

Heavy: Terro

Engineer: [TBD]

Spy: Sheriff

Sniper: [TBD]

Soldier: [TBD]

Medic: [TBD]

Scout: [TBD]

Demoman: [TBD]

Adonis: POW! *shoots Terro* YOU ARE DEAD!

Terro: I AM DEAD.

Adonis: eheheheheh.

Sheriff: *approaching* HOUH! The Terro is dead!

Terro: Yes. I AM DEAD.

Sheriff: WHY is the Terro dead?

Adonis: I dunno

Terro: I think it was—

Sheriff & Adonis: Shh! You are dead!

Terro: Oki *no-clips into backrooms*

Unskilled: What’s up, ya nerds? Who’s up for a— AH. WHAT THE BLOODY HELL JUST HAPPENED??

Sheriff & Adonis: The Terro is dead!

Unskilled: The Terro is dead???

Sheriff: Correct!

*Unskilled wins Who Wants to be a Millionaire*

Sheriff: So, did you see the murderer?

Unskilled & Adonis: No, sorry mate.

Sheriff: I will find him, I will CAPTURE him, & no one will ever die again!

(Sitcom applause.mp3)

Unskilled: Ah, well that’s nice.

Adonis: Damn proud right now.

Suddenly Hashbang.

Hashbang: ATEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN-TION! THE TERRO IS DEAD!

Sheriff: We know.

Hashbang: Who killed him‽

Sheriff: We don’t know.

Hashbang: I will find clues! *faceplants & sniffs around* WHaT’s thAt? *picks up gun* A weapon? *Pointing it at everyone else* That thing must be why ThE TeRRo IS DEaD!

Sheriff, Adonis, & Unskilled: THE TERRO IS DEAD???

Hashbang: YES! *Ace Attorney intensifies* HE DIED.

Sheriff, Adonis, & Unskilled: :000

Select driving for some ungodly reason: INCOMIIIIING

Prof crashes into Hashbang & gets out of the ambulance.

Prof: MOVE, NOW!

*kys*

Terro, A C C E N D I N G: AHAHHAHAHAA

*The Terro is dead*

Prof: In my medical opinion; THE TERRO IS DEAD!!

Unskilled: Prof, what happened?

Prof: in my Prof-essional opinion? *Phoenix Wright brand desk abuse + Johnny Test whip crack* THE HEAVY WAS KÏÏLLED.

Adonis: Oh Devs.

Prof: I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.

Unskilled: Well, now what?

Nefarious: CLIPPITY CLOP, MOTHERFUCKERSSSS!! BOOM!

Sheriff: Oh, come on…

Nefarious: LOOKITDIS! The freakin’ Terro’s dead!

…

What’dyou think of that?

…

Uh-

Sheriff: Yes, yes — Nef?

Nefarious: Yea?-

Sheriff: GO HOME.

Select waving from a car.

Nefarious: AH, COME ON! PFFFFT FREAKIN’ UNBELIEVABLE, sEriously, you all SUCK.

Select crashes the car.

Sheriff: Ok, let’s get back to the (exclamation) POINT.

Terro: *pokes Terro with a stick* I think Terro is dead.

Everyone but Terro: THE TERRO IS DEAD‽‽‽

Prof: NEFARIOUS, I WILL HEAL YOU— *fucking explodes*

Terro: Oh, seriously‽ Who killed Terro‽

Statalus: it was MEH.

:00

Statalus: Yes! I did it like this! *Yeetus Deletuses Unskilled* WHOOP-DE-DOOOO!!!

Adonis, Terro, & Sheriff all poking Unskilled’s leftover code with sticks.

Status: That’s a joke, lads.

(Sitcom laughter.mp3)

Statalus: It was y- HIM. *pointing at Adonis*

Adonis & Sheriff: >:00

Adonis: How did you know?

Statalus: I didn’t! That was a joke, tOo.

Adonis evilly laughing as Statalus dies from KPP.

Adonis: That’s right, it was me!

Sheriff: You monster!

Terro: But WHYYYYYYY??

Adonis: ‘Cuz you’re fat, boi! & another thing; you’re ugly.

Terro: ADONIS STOP

Adonis: You are a whole herd of ugly. Dumb as a box of rocks. *I couldn’t make the rest out.*

Terro: ADONIS, YOU ARE SO MEAN!! YOU’RE NOT FUNNY.

Sheriff: (…It’s tradition.)

Terro: ADONIS.

Adonis: Aw, dammit Terro, fuck off! You are dead.

Terro: No, you! POW! *shoots Adonis* HA-HA! YOU ARE DEAD!! Not big surprise.

Sheriff: Well, that was idiotic. Off to hang myself! WATCH & LEaR- *the Sheriff is dead*

Terro: I am alive!.. Tis nice. :)

…

Yes, this is stupid!

#the heavy is dead #epprbcu #exclamation point pfp rpg blog cinematic universe #!cu #punctuationverse #!cu incorrect quotes #!terro #‽terro #!nefarious #!select #!Adonis #‽adonis #!Sheriff #post shooter #!Unskilled #!Hashbang #!Prof #?prof #!Statalus

[ditto-ditto]

*streeeeeetch*

*the sounds of popping joints

[that was good to let out that cunts been causing trouble bout genny for a while]

[three quarter as bad as the genny shipping 'nons that one is]

figures, seems like a piece of work.

#post shooter

[mikubilliards]

I know the last thing on people on tumblr’s minds is FPS games but I need to talk about this since an issue that has been plaguing a certain game for literal years and had made it unplayable as a result has finally been resolved.

Today I found out that, after 3 years of being hacked, DDOSed, shut down, and broken (in that order), the Titanfall 2 servers are back online and running mostly normally. It’s been a long, long time coming, since the community has been pleading for this exact thing to happen for so long, and it seems it’s finally been done. The janitor of Respawn finally learned how to code and fixed the servers, and for that we are ever grateful. Matchmaking is finally back to the way it was before all of the drama, the nonsense, the hacks, and the tearing down of a game.

I was playing the game for about 5 hours today nonstop after I heard the news. I have a new account entirely since the last time I played, so I have to re-acquire all of the stuff I once had, but that grind is so worth it. A certain meme comes to mind: “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you…”. I even played a match of Halo Infinite at the very end just to compare the two, and the difference was night and day. Nothing against Halo, but the movement mechanics in Titanfall are on another level entirely, and everything feels so fluid and graceful, and it compliments the rest of the gameplay perfectly. Also who doesn’t love giant mechs?

Though the servers are back up, the community’s job really isn’t finished. We need to make sure the game is populated again, and show the devs that we are here and that we care about the game. We can’t let another incident shut the servers down for years again. If you’re not a part of it yet and want to check the game out, it’s on every platform save switch, it’s free with Xbox gamepass and/or EA play, and it’s even got a sale going on on Steam of like 90% off, making the price $3! I don’t wanna sound like a salesman, but there’s no better offer, no better bang for your buck if you want to get into movement shooters than this game, and you’ll be helping a community to save a game as well if you get it. Pass this message along to anyone who also likes FPS games too, it would really be appreciated!

#gaming #titanfall #titanfall 2 #respawn #fps #movement #movement shooter #games #shooter #robots #not my usual post #but it had to be said #so happy

[dailyfigures]

Black Gold Saw ; Black Rock Shooter ☆ Good Smile Company

#bonus post!!!!! #black rock shooter #brs #brs figure #black gold saw #good smile company #gsc #nendoroid #anime #anime figure #anime figurine #figure #figure collecting #scale figure #figurine #anime collecting #myfigurecollection #manga #black ☆ rock shooter