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#the anarchist;doe
mythvoiced · 2 months
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OPEN STARTER | Doe
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"No, I think cis-straight men should all die."
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beingharsh · 7 months
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lol
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alpacacare-archive · 5 months
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its DESTINY
#repostober#day 18 actually on time! wow#undertale#papyrus#danganronpa#dr1#kiyotaka ishimaru#yes. mashing favorite things together again#but it was meant to be#so many similarities between these two goofs#loud eccentric passionate autistic supportive of their friends always wearing the same outfit EASILY the best character in their franchise#HARDWORKING TO THE POINT OF WORKAHOLISM!!!!!!! UPLIFTING OTHERS WITHOUT ERASING OR DIMINISHING THEIR OWN GREATNESS!!!!!!#always eats the same thing (taka - rice balls toast and a banana- papyrus - DINOSAUR EGG OATMEAL NOT SPAGHETTI sorry its a pet peeve)#kindhearted and so aggressive about it genuinely believe that anyone can improve themselves and theyre both so silly and quirky all the tim#literally the only differences that i can think of are that taka would throw himself overboard if someone authoritative told him to#before they could even finish their sentence while papyrus is an anarchist arsonist who cusses and his intended jokes are actually funny#' * SIGH * ... WHAT A TROUBLED YOUNG HUMAN ... 'FUCK' ISN'T EVEN IN HIS RARE VOCABULARY ! HOW DOES HE FUNCTION UNDER THESE CONDITIONS ??#he would take taka under his wing and get him back on the straight and narrow (give him weed)#and i feel like after the three day long yell over how a skeleton is walking and talking as if that were normal he'd really look up to him#fav things about this are the way takas shirt hangs off of papyrus' rib cage cus theres nothing there but a spine#that was so fun to draw sdfhg#taka cosplaying papyrus is my gift to humanity today
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"the citizens of a genocidal state would move if they disagreed with it being a genocidal state" yes because moving between countries and gaining citizenship in a new place is famously such an easy thing to do
i've said it before and i'll say it again, one of the evils of statism is that you are forced to be part of an occupying force even if you hate the state, just by means of needing to exist. same goes for capitalism
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gingebreadbeetle · 2 months
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I’ve been researching Cherri bomb to redesign her and all I’ve learned is she has a manipulative father and died in the 80’s.
Send help
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rustchild · 3 months
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one of the wild things about people’s stubborn insistence on misunderstanding The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas is that the narrator anticipates an audience that won’t engage with the text, just in the opposite direction. Throughout the story are little asides asking what the reader is willing to believe in. Can you believe in a utopia? What if I told you this? What about this? Can you believe in the festivals? The towers by the sea? Can we believe that they have no king? Can we believe that they are joyful? Does your utopia have technology, luxury, sex, temples, drugs? The story is consulting you as it’s being told, framed as a dialogue. It literally asks you directly: do you only believe joy is possible with suffering? And, implicitly, why?
the question isn’t just “what would you personally do about the kid.” It isn’t just an intricate trolley problem. It’s an interrogation of the limits of imagination. How do we make suffering compulsory? Why? What futures (or pasts) are we capable of imagining? How do we rationalize suffering as necessary? And so on. In all of the conversations I’ve seen or had about this story, no one has mentioned the fact that it’s actively breaking the fourth wall. The narrator is building a world in front of your eyes and challenging you to participate. “I would free the kid” and then what? What does the Omelas you’ve constructed look like, and why? And what does that say about the worlds you’re building in real life?
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greenflamethegf · 8 months
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Today I learned tear gas is prohibited by Geneva convention cops get to use it, because Geneva convention only regulates war between two nations, and "internal affairs". Crazy that there are right SOLDERS OF A HOSTILE NATION have that you don't.
More information will be delivered by 'message in the bottle' directly to the government
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vasito-de-leche · 3 months
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hello!! your writing is so good i am perceiving it /pos. i'm not sure if you do familial/platonic requests so ignore this if you don't but may i request click with a reader who he sees as an older sibling? it can be headcanons or like general thoughts i don't rlly care. thank you!! <3
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;R1999 CLICK - Familial Headcanons
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Compilation of headcanons and analysis about Click and an older sibling figure.
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ty for the ask, nonnie <3 and yes, I do write for familial/platonic stuff too, not just romance! check the rules if you have any questions!
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As far as I know, there's no information about Click's family nor their dynamics, and he doesn't seem to fit any of the stereotypical youngest/middle/eldest child labels. So, going by personality alone, I'd say that for Click to consider someone as his very own older sibling figure, they'd have to be somewhat similar to him!
Not necessarily a carbon copy of him, mind you - they don't have to share his passion for photography nor agree with him 24/7! Just someone who he can relate to and who brings him a sense of security. Perhaps someone like Zima! Insightful, with a strong core and sense of self, aiming to broaden his horizons.
Someone who has also seen the darker aspects of life, lived through tragedies and come out stronger - Click is proud of his job, but he knows that talking about heavy subjects isn't everyone's cup of tea. So he'd like to know that his older sibling figure can understand or is trying to understand where he comes from, that he doesn't mean to bring the mood down whenever he happens to bring up the subject of war. It's part of his life and his experiences, and pretending that it didn't happen would be a disservice to all the things he's witnessed.
Alternatively, Click would gravitate towards anyone who shows extreme passion for their craft, regardless of what it might be - creative people who are dedicated and who experience the world through different artistic mediums are a big inspiration for him. Someone who drags him into all sorts of situations, allowing Click to capture many different points of view that he would've otherwise missed. Someone like Regulus or Diggers!
Click tends to wander and disappear a lot. It's always up to you to find him.
Younger siblings tend to either follow after their older siblings all the time like puppies, or disappear off the face of the Earth and mind their business (I'm the youngest of 6 siblings, I can vouch for this). Click fits the latter!
It's common for him to just wander around and disappear for days on end to focus on taking the best pictures across the Wilderness, with nothing but his camera and his thoughts. Somehow, he always seems to know whenever you call out to him - he'll manifest beside you right away, hoping he's not gotten into trouble. It's a weird feeling, knowing people expect him to keep in touch and come back safe and sound, that no matter where he goes, he'll still hear your voice calling out to him because he's going to miss dinner (not that he even needs to eat). But it's a very nice, warm feeling, so he doesn't mind.
I like to think Click - and pretty much any ghost within the universe of R1999 - can just become invisible to the human eye at will, with arcanists (especially those of Spirit and Intelligence afflatus) being able to sense their presence. During particularly bad days, where PTSD might be giving Click a hard time, he'll just fade away so that no one can see him. And then, he'll pick a spot to sit and wait for it to blow over.
Sometimes, you find him anyway, no matter how much he tries to hide. Sometimes, he lets you know where he is. Either way, he lets you know that he'd like for you to stay and keep him company - I imagine there's a system you two come up with, should he feel too overwhelmed to talk. Knock once for yes, two for no. Tug on your shirt if he wants to lead you somewhere quieter, pat your hand to sit down with him, etc etc.
Everyone begins to see you as Click's guardian.
On a less sad note, whenever someone needs Click for anything, they always go to you first and foremost! Either because you're the only one who can figure out where he may be, or because they want to run their plans through you first.
Vertin specifically makes sure to know if you'd like to accompany him during missions that require his presence, or if you'd like to know the details of his next solo mission. It's something she does out of politeness and as a a formality - and because Click just seems to perk up just a tiny bit if she tells him that you expect him to do a proper job. Whenever Lilya is planning to give Click a ride to take better pictures, she always jokes around, saying that she'll bring your precious brother back in one piece. Pavia always jokingly threatens Click to snitch on him and tell his "big scary sibling" that he's been taking pictures of people when they sleep.
From an outsider's point of view - those who do not belong to this group - it feels like everyone is infantilizing Click. He's 19 and a war photographer! But one has to remember that everyone in this suitcase has lost family and friends to the "Storm".
Aside from being displaced and forced into unfamiliar waters, everyone is dealing with so many things on their own, like losing their lives and all the people they once knew and cared for. So knowing that Click was able to form such a strong bond with you, to trust and see you as family, despite everything? It really brings them hope for a brighter future - Vertin's goal to create a place for those who have nowhere else to go starts to make sense for them. And hey, most of them are willing to stop with their little jokes and such should they bother you or Click!
This specific point comes from me seeing Vertin's group as one huge found family - there's no way everyone will get along, but at the end of the day, everyone trusts and relies and takes care of each other. The dynamics within this found family are much too complex for me to get into right now and for people outside of it to even understand, just know that it's a thing!
Click picks up on your mannerisms and speech pattern unconsciously.
Click isn't very talkative outside of the usual photography or artistic talk, he's more of a listener. And while he does become a little more talkative around you, opening up and whatnot, you tend to do most of the talking. And that's how he ends up picking up your mannerisms!
It's especially funny for everyone if you happen to have a very different and contrasting way of speech- the way Click just casually drops an F bomb in that soft-spoken voice whenever he fails to get the perfect shot will NEVER stop funny.
I like to think that, because of how observant he is, he also ends up picking up on your unique gestures. It's all an unconscious thing he does - if someone points it out Click won't even know what they're talking about, entirely oblivious to the fact that he now emotes and makes the same facial expressions as you do, the same gestures (at least when his hands are free, instead of clinging to that camera of his) and using the same phrases and whatnot.
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returntoregalia · 2 months
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Ripred being a morally ambiguous violent hippie will always be my favorite thing.
Never in my life have I ever thought of Ripred and "hippie" in the same sentence 😂
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viric-dreams · 26 days
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Trying to sleep whilst simultaneously letting some potential lore scenes for future writing/art run in the back of my mind produces some truly unsettling results.
Under no circumstances would Roberts be court martialed for treason. Officer Beverley seems to understand this, but his logic is entirely backwards. Framed by the glow of the fireplace, Beverley leans back against the sole chair in his spartan lodgings and explains what he’s so sure is going to happen. If Roberts does not comply he intends to go to the London admiralty, to let them in on his missing time, the new player making waves in Anarchist circles, the lies at the foundation of his very existence. He seems to think that the Dark-Spectacled Admiral has the power to land him in political scandal.
His letters will never reach the Admiral. Roberts knows this with the same certainty that he knows the Dawn Machine burns in the Southwest. Beverley’s contact is the Voracious Diplomat. He’s trying to be cagey about it, but Roberts has seen the letterhead, shoved quickly into a drawer whenever they need the space on the desk to work. And the Diplomat would never let such a tidbit go to the Admiral, not when it’s worth so much more on Grand Geode.
Roberts was there for the Luminous Plot of ‘69. In fact, he had been the one to ensure that its perpetrators would never find a way to return from the slow boat, no trial, sham or otherwise. As he and the Commodore stood against the gunwhale and watched their cement-laden bodies sink into the Zee, the Commodore turned to him.
“You wouldn’t betray me, would you, Elias?”
The expression on his face is clouded, as if already playing through and wounded by the possibility in his mind. It feels like being thrown into ice water.
“Of course not, sir!”
The very idea is appalling. Surely the Commodore doesn’t truly believe it’s in the realm of the possible—not when the very idea makes his skin prickle. He’s the Commodore’s man, through and through, dedicated to both him and the Work.
The Commodore smiles, his golden eyes suddenly kind.
“I thought not. You wouldn’t do such a thing,” his hand reaches out to pat his shoulder, “Not from my most loyal midshipman.”
He can’t help but flush at the praise. Hopefully, the deck’s dim lighting covers it. But it hardly matters, for the Commodore turns away, gazing into the waves where they’d thrown the traitors not minutes ago. Roberts thinks the conversation is at its end when the Commodore starts again, eyes never leaving that fixed point on the Zee’s surface.
“If you did betray me, of course, I wouldn’t kill and feed you to the dawn flukes. That would be too easy of an end. Instead, I’d weld you into our smallest zub and ship you to Anthe. Who knows,” he shrugs, “you might just even have enough supplies to make it.”
He can’t breathe, his lungs are frozen in his chest. The image is all too real—trapped in that metal coffin, hardly able to move. Through the icy panic, all he can feel is the frantic hammering of his heart and the sharp twinge of the muscle of his left thigh, where the scarred skin puckers above it. The Commodore wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. Right? He has to take a breath. He needs to respond. It’s been too long. His silence might be taken for suspicious.
“There’s no need for that, I assure you.” The words come out whole, though his voice is frailer than he’d like. The Commodore is studying him now. Roberts isn’t sure whether or not he can meet his gaze, what the Commodore might see on his face. After a moment the Commodore nods.
“I didn’t think so. But you never know.” With that, his mouth slides into a grin, demeanour changing like night and day. “We’d best get back soon. There’s work to be done back on base. I’ll alert the navigator.”
Roberts sees the hand coming soon enough to not flinch when it lands on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring shake, before the Commodore is off, already descending the ladder.
He takes a deep breath and steadies himself, chasing the claustrophobic phantasm from his mind. The Commodore is right—there’s work to be done.
Truth be told, he’s not entirely paying attention to the details of Beverley’s demands. He doesn’t have to, when he already knows he’ll agree to whatever he says. It’s clear as dawnlight what he must do. The Officer seems almost surprised by how easily Roberts acquiesces, but that surprise soon turns to barely-concealed delight as the scientific possibilities unfold before him. He’s already turned away from Roberts and back to the schematics, searching for a pen to record the newest thoughts.
It’s truly a shame, Roberts thinks, hand reaching behind him for the fireplace poker, to have to lose such a promising engineer. But treachery is something that the New Sequence cannot tolerate.
Beverley doesn’t even see it coming until the instant he brings the iron poker down across his skull.
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existennialmemes · 5 months
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I'll "live, laugh, love" right after we
💥Rally, Rebel, Revolt💥
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mythvoiced · 3 months
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There were parts of Doe she could see as clearly as if they were parts of herself, and despite her arrogance, there were still parts of him she could not see, nor understand. The fact that she was even bothering to get something, bothered her, but... the sight of her beanbag chair, how could she not ?
But she wasn't really sure what Doe liked. He worked, he worked a lot.
❝ C'mon ! ❞ She slammed her hand down on his desk, grinned mischeviously. ❝ Let's go ! ❞ Was this a gift ? Maybe a curse. Amelia's eyes were set on her target, and she was not leaving until she had what she wanted. That just happened to be Doe.
❝ You shouldn't be working on Christmas. I'm making you dinner. Let's go. ❞ Her head tilted. ❝ And before you think you have a choice, baby, you don't. I'll drag you out of here kicking and screaming if I have to. ❞
@astremourante | time is a special construct in rp and if Amelia says it's Christmas it sure is Christmas
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Christmas means nothing.
Past tense.
Christmas meant nothing.
Then again, a whole lot of things meant nothing, or next to nothing before Amelia slammed into his life and took the foundations of it, reworking the entire essence of his relationship to life by creating one in the first place.
There's no real decorum to the way he handles things anymore. There used to be an 'out there' and an 'in here' and 'in here' always involved himself and things he keeps limping to get done, figure out.
Is he always working because there's always something to do? Or because he's not as perfectly suited to the role forced upon him by himself as he'd hoped to be?
It's not arrogance.
Desperation makes him say 'no, I'm perfect for this'.
What else does he have, otherwise.
Well...
Amelia, maybe?
Because desperation and arrogance and survival seem to be taking a backseat or several whenever Amelia leans in close enough to take up his entire worldview. Even from afar, fixing his gaze on her always comes with an involuntary, overwhelming dolly zoom.
Maybe that's why he doesn't really startle when she slams her hand down. Had he truly been paying attention to anything but her? Isn't she always dancing around the corners of his vision? Isn't this exactly what he looks forward to on most days?
Hadn't the thought of spending Christmas without a glance at her even once made his insides churn uncomfortably in a way they never had before?
He knows discomfort, hell does he know it. Physical pain, mental pain, emotional pain. He knows the frustration of things never fucking changing, knows the harsh breaths and heart palpitations of realizing things might not get better, he knows discomfort in clothes, discomfort in appearances, discomfort in speech.
But... when's the last time he felt discomfort generated by the potentials of not meeting someone purely because he'd like to see them?
There's discomfort of losing, an opportunity, an encounter, a chance.
But discomfort of losing...
She's eerily beautiful. Nothing about her reminds him of death, not really, except that he'd always wondered if beauty and the grotesque can unite to become death, before he learned that death just is and rarely wears a face. She doesn't look dead or undead, like a ghost or one who makes ghosts.
She isn't eerie per se.
Her beauty is lung-tightening and gaze-stealing, but not something sicced on him by some higher being... or the devil down below.
She's eerie in all the things her beauty hides.
She's eerie in being beautiful at all.
She's eerie because he likes her so.
He grants himself the dignity and luxury of staring her down for a moment, both eyebrows raised, features otherwise impassive, appearing unimpressed and not like her words are rolling around in his head and scratching at the inside of his skull.
He feels nausea.
He feels... hungry. He can't remember the last time he's cared for food beyond the concept of it as fuel.
He thinks about watching her cook, thinks about witnessing her in an environment not many probably have seen her in, unless this is a scheme of hers and he's being played.
He stands with a sigh.
Chess is chess, he can stand to be a pawn for once. Right? The Queen will always be the strongest piece, anyway, how could he possibly protest against the desire to meet the other end of the board and be slightly closer to her in a better form?
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"Well, since you made it clear I have no choice," he says, and he's perfected it, the careful nonchalance, the slightly interested disinterest. Oh, he's a good liar. Until you look into his eyes and see the smile in them. "How am I to refuse."
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loki-zen · 10 months
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‘starve to death working a shitty-ass job wishing you ever had time to read simulator’ was not what they wrote on the box
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dreamyintersexpuppy · 6 months
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like yes we do as leftists need to be more tolerant of each others ideas especially when facing capitalism and rising fascism together but we also have to think past those things too, we have to imagine a world where we do more than tolerate each other but we also coexist and keep working together to keep our societies safe from what we just escaped, it’s not enough for you to grit your teeth and silently hate other leftists while cooperating, you need to actually conceive of a world where people work together past these common enemies because if we can’t these mistakes will simply repeat with new motivations
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creekfiend · 1 year
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Do u ever think about like.
The leftists who think the state should have more power as long as its a DIFFERENT state in some ideological way
Vs the leftists who think there should be no state whatsoever
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astarlightmonbebe · 3 months
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this is painful. ruyi is eviscerating this man.
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