Avatar

DeadOnTheInside

@hopefulmuglawyerathlete

Avatar

This is attention to details man

Ganon holds a bow straight while Link holds it at an angle.

Ganon also draws the bow like a samurai, (since this Ganon is more samurai like) he positions/aim the bow then draws.

(Not shown here) Even if Link uses a long bow like Ganon he will still aim at an angle since he is a soldier. He positions/aim the bow and draws at the same time.

The bow Ganon uses will recoil meaning this is a heavy bow. (They didnt need to add that detail in, but they did man)

Ooh, I’m about to be very normal about this. Okay so one of the first things I noticed with BotW is that Link uses a reverse-Mediterranean draw. It’s your basic 3-finger grip on the string except with the palm facing outward. I mostly see this style used in pop culture when you want to seem exotic (the Na’vi from Avatar draw this way). As far as this grip’s use in history I remember seeing some pottery art of a Scythian warrior drawing palm-out, but can’t confirm if that’s accurate or typical for them. The advantage of this draw is that you can go from loading an arrow to drawing the bow in one fluid motion. That makes for quick and snappy gameplay. Perhaps all Hyrule soldiers are taught to shoot this way, but to me it seems so unusual I always read it as Link being self-taught. Ganon absolutely shoots like he’s doing Kyudo. Kyudo focuses on form and ritual, where nocking and drawing are just as important and deliberate actions as shooting. It’s more of a meditative exercise. I don’t think the little flourish at the end is so much recoil as it is part of that proper form. Kyudo has a thing called  Yugaeri where you turn your wrist outward at the end of your shot, causing the bow to turn in your hand. I’m not as familiar with Japanese archery, but Persian archery has a similar motion called Khatra, and it helps reduce the effects of the archer’s paradox, where the energy is sending the arrow directly into the bow, forcing the arrow to curve around it and redirecting its path at an angle. When you turn the bow as you shoot, the arrow is sent past the riser instead of directly into it, allowing for a straighter shot.  These choices are absolutely dripping with characterization. Link’s style is focused on results; throw enough pointy sticks downrange until the enemy stops moving, whereas Ganon clearly has training and shoots like it’s a ceremony. When I looked up Kyudo to write this, the article suggested that the bow turn at the end is mainly used for ceremony or competition shooting, and battlefield archers would hold the bow more securely to follow up with subsequent shots easier. What does this say about Ganon? Maybe he remains relaxed in a fight because he doesn’t perceive Link as a threat, and would rather focus on his perfect form. Maybe Nintendo wanted his motions to be slow and clear so the player knows when to raise their shield. Maybe the animator just happened to be familiar with Japanese archery and didn’t care to match it with Link’s animation that was imported from the previous game.

Autism: I need to have a plan.

ADHD: Throw out the plan!

OCD: We have no plan! We’re gonna get kidnapped! Molested! Murdered! We look twelve! Paedophiles like twelve year olds!

ADHD: Ooh! I like that shirt.

Autism: We didn’t come here to clothes shop. Get it when we’re here to clothes shop.

OCD: If we don’t get that shirt now we’ll never see it again.

ADHD: I bought it.

Autism: WHY CAN’T YOU TWO JUST STICK TO THE PLAN!?!?

ADHD: BECAUSE PLANS SUCK AND ARE EASILY FORGETTABLE!!!

OCD: You’re just a bad person who can’t get their life together. You’ll probably end up homeless on the street begging for food and you’ll die of dehydration.

ADHD: Eat right now! I see Potato Corner!

Autism: Oh! Stimmy foods!

OCD: What if we choke on a chip and die? Or the flavour dust? What if these chips are the only bad batch they’ve ever made and they’re a bad sensation?

Autism: Stop! You’re freaking me out.

ADHD: I bought chips.

Autism: Who have you the money!

OCD: Did we actually buy the chips? Check the chips are real, just in case we imagined it.

ADHD: I can taste them, they’re real.

OCD: What if because of my poor impulse control I loose all my money and then end up broke and homeless?

ADHD: Time to space out.

Autism: I’m just gonna go into every shop and think about if characters from my special interest would buy them.

OCD: Don’t buy anything unless you want to be homeless.

ADHD: Buy everything.

Dolphins doing cartwheels with an aquarium guest.

I'm loving this new trend of people going to zoos and participating in animal enrichment. We use to observe large exotic animals for our entertainment, but the fact is that we are now trying to make ourselves equally as entertaining for them. It's interactive, completely parpicipatory and I would argue that eventually someone's gonna come up with something new enough that it expland ethologists understanding about how some animals think, problem solve, communicate and feel and I think its fantastic.

Human: play?

Aquatic creature from an entirely different branch of the animal tree: play!

Spreading the word because the original post is gone now (screenshots from a post I saw earlier today):

TLDR: ao3 is currently under attack, and you need to stay off the site to give the volunteers a chance to fix things

reblog this as much as you can!!

EDIT:

So it seems that there’s no reason to believe the reasoning behind the attacks coming from the group attacking ao3. I’ve seen countless other sources saying that they’ve lied during other attacks and this is no different

another update: the ao3 social media accounts have started to say that if it’s up for you, you can use it. If it’s not working for you though, you probably should stop reloading your page over and over again. That’s still going to overload their system

SECOND EDIT:

looks like ao3 has just been entirely shut down for now (9:02 pm PST)

My boyfriend is trying to explain cricket to me again. “He’s only got two balls to make 48 runs”, he says. The camera focuses on a man. Underneath him it says LEFT ARM FAST MEDIUM. A ball flies into the stands and presumably fractures someone’s skull. “There’s a free six”, my boyfriend says. 348 SIXES says the screen. A child in the audience waves a sign referencing Weet-Bix

The first time he showed me this I assumed he was pranking me

if people haven’t been exposed to cricket before, here is the experience. The person who likes cricket turns on a radio with an air of happy expectation. “We’ll just catch up with the cricket,” they say. 

An elderly British man with an accent - you can picture exactly what he looks like and what he is wearing, somehow, and you know that he will explain the important concept of Yorkshire to you at length if you make eye contact - is saying “And w’ four snickets t’ wicket, Umbleby dives under the covers and romps home for a sticky bicket.”

There is a deep and satisfied silence. Weather happens over the radio. This lasts for three minutes.

A gentle young gentleman with an Indian accent, whose perfect and beautiful clear voice makes him sound like a poet sipping from a cup of honeyed drink always, says mildly “Of course we cannot forget that when Pakistan last had the biscuit under the covers, they were thrown out of bed. In 1957, I believe.”

You mouth “what the fucking fuck.”

A morally ambiguous villain from a superhero movie says off-microphone, “Crumbs everywhere.”

Apparently continuing a previous conversation, the villain asks, “Do seagulls eat tacos?”

“I’m sure someone will tell us eventually,” the poet says. His voice is so beautiful that it should be familiar; he should be the only announcer on the radio, the only reader of audiobooks.

The villain says with sudden interest, “Oh, a leg over straight and under the covers, Peterson and Singh are rumping along with a straight fine leg and good pumping action. Thanks to his powerful thighs, Peterson is an excellent legspinner, apart from being rude on Twitter.”

The man from Yorkshire roars potently, like a bull seeing another bull. There might be words in his roar, but otherwise it is primal and sizzling.

“That isn’t straight,” the poet says. “It’s silly.”

What the fucking fuck,” you say out loud at this point.

“Shh,” says the person who likes cricket. They listen, tensely. Something in the distance makes a very small “thwack,” like a baby dropping an egg.

“Was that a doosra or a googly?” the villain asks.

“IT’S A WRONG ‘UN,” roars the Yorkshireman in his wrath. A powerful insult has been offered. They begin to scuffle.

“With that double doozy, Crumpet is baffled for three turns, Agarwal is deep in the biscuit tin and Padgett has gone to the shops undercover,” the poet says quickly, to cover the action while his companions are busy. The villain is being throttled, in a friendly companionable way.

An intern apparently brings a message scrawled on a scrap of paper like a courier sprinting across a battlefield. “Reddy has rolled a nat 20,” the poet says with barely contained excitement. “Australia is both a continent and an island. But we’re running out of time!”

“Is that true?” You ask suddenly.

“Shh!” Says the person who likes cricket. “It’s a test match.”

“About Australia.”

“We won’t know THAT until the third DAY.”

A distant “pock” noise. The sound of thirty people saying “tsk,” sorrowfully.

“And the baby’s dropped the egg. Four legs over or we’re done for, as long as it doesn’t rain.”

The villain might be dead? You begin to find yourself emotionally invested.

There are mild distant cheers. “Oh, and with twelve sticky wickets t’ over and t’ seagull’s exploded,” the man from the North says as if all of his dreams have come true. “What a beautiful day.” Your person who likes cricket relaxes. It is tea break.

The villain, apparently alive, describes the best hat in the audience as “like a funnel made of dove-colored net, but backwards, with flies trapped in it.”

This is every bit as good as that time in Australia in 1975, they all agree, drinking their tea and eating home-made cakes sent in by the fans. The poet comments favorably on the icing and sugar-preserved violets. The Yorkshire man discourses on the nature of sponge. The villain clatters his cup too hard on his saucer. To cover his embarrassment, the poet begins scrolling through Twitter on his phone, reading aloud the best memes in his enchanting milky voice. Then, with joy, he reads an @ from an ornithologist at the University of Reading: seagulls do eat tacos! A reference is cited; the poet reads it aloud. Everyone cheers.

You are honestly - against your will - kind of into it! but also: weirdly enraged.

“Was that … it?” you ask, deeming it safe to interrupt.

“No,” says the person who likes cricket, “This is second tea break on the first day. We won’t know where we really are until lunch tomorrow.”

And - because you cannot stop them - you have to accept this; if cricket teaches you anything, it is this gentle and radical acceptance.

Some of this was REAL????

Hey, could you do me a favor?

Could you just RB this?

The little RB statistics chart is so pleasant and stimmy to look at and I want to see what it looks like when it gets really REALLY huge because it makes me think of some deep sea lifeform

here lemme help

*ahem*

reblog this post to kiss the person you reblogged it from

hope that works :)

THANK YOU THIS IS MAKING MY BRAIN SO HAPPY AAAAAAAAA

THIS IS SO SATISFYING ITS LIKE A GROUP OF PLANKTON OR A RAILWAY CHART...