At this point I almost want to salt and burn my SSD to make sure all traces of SWTOR are gone.
The thing is… I really enjoyed kotfe and kotet. I really really did, which I know is a somewhat unpopular opinion. It was the breaking point for a lot of people–and I can absolutely understand that. It probably helps that I have 0 issues just headcanoning things away, and taking any of my characters for whom the role of Commander doesn’t work and shoving them into universes where a different character is Commander. But it worked so phenomenally well for my main–Katsulas–and it brought to life my actual favourite AU in existence–Beyond Destiny, with Aki’s JK Marlitharn and my Sith!Katsulas. It’s brought us both a lot of happiness in otherwise very difficult times.
Which, I guess, is why I get so very extra disappointed when swtor falls so incredibly short like this. My expectations are already rather low, so it doesn’t take much to make me happy. And when something like this happens I just… I’m not even angry. I’m just sad and worried. Because despite all of swtor’s flaws, it’s given me so, so much imagination-fuel, and I have such good memories, and I still love so much of it, and I want it to do well. Or at least not shoot itself in the foot.
Vile hands grabbed at the Wraith's hips, forcibly holding the poor, fragile man in place. "Speak up, my ghost, for my patience grows weak, and dearest father blocks my understanding. Please, dove, tell me your woes..."
It’s a gesture that both comforts and instills nervousness in him — the closeness is soothing, and simultaneously that slightly unnerving. But the trapper’s tone makes him sound more weary than angered at his constant evading questions, and with a long, long gurgling sigh, Philip meets foreheads with him for a moment, palms going to rest at the sides of his mask.
Distance is resumed not too after; he needs space to sign.
I’m not troubled, Evan. And I don’t want to waste your time with silly things. But…
This is abominably difficult.
Please forgive me. It wasn’t my intention, and I don’t mean to make things awkward, or odd, but, I fear I am… quite smitten… with you. More than smitten, actually. I’m terribly sorry.
He knows he’s being more vague than he’s supposed to be, because damn it all he should just bite the bullet and say the thing properly, and he’s an adult and he should be able to handle a situation of that kind, and come on, it’s just feelings, surely a man who lived countless years like Evan can understand and not resent him for slipping like so — but that’s the best he can offer. Philip is aware it isn’t much.
idk but what really gets me about overwatch is that its entire marketing tries to convince us that it’s this huge band of heroes who have come together to maintain world peace and achieve Great Things
while in fact that’s what they used to be and what you have now is a family consisting of an ape, two lesbians and a supercomputer having illegal dinner parties in a derelict government facility
the three former leaders of the organization are all presumed dead and pass their time not really disputing that claim considering two of them are currently holed up in a fucking necropolis, and the other one is a constantly decomposing emotional fog
like you’re supposed to imagine this grand force for Good, but then jesse mccree is getting shitfaced in a dingy bar in dorado while sombra sends sneaky update pics of him to reaper, who is currently too busy creeping on a family just because the guy’s flat butt reminded him of his ex husband
hanzo ‘midlife crisis’ shimada shoots dragons out of his nipple but you couldn’t tell that looking at his art student undercut and piercings, and his not-dead (notice how that’s a suspiciously recurring theme in this game?) brother is probably currently at a cosplay convention losing a ‘best genji costume’ competition
like maybe one day they’ll all come together and find common ground and actually do something, but for now they’re just a bunch of weird people in different stages of washed up trying to make ends meet, and it might be the most relatable thing about the whole entire game
THOR: RAGNAROK Period AU After Lord Odin, founder of Odin & Sons Gold Company, passed away from a mysterious illness, Thor Odinson is forced to come back from his two-year sabbatical to Asgard Hall as rightful heir of the land and the business. This immediately puts him at odds with his adopted brother Loki who, until then, was overseeing the property and operations (to little success) as the acting heir. Friction sparks between both brothers when Thor suspects Loki of his involvement with their father’s sudden demise—until an unexpected visitor, a woman named Hela, changes the game and claims to be their estranged eldest sister and the rightful heir of Lord Odin.
the howlies got in a lot of bar fights. you might think that the last thing a bunch of soldiers would want to do with their free time is fight people, but actually bar fights were a great stress relief. nobody really got seriously injured, and we tried to keep property damage to a minimum. (and we also almost never started bar fights, for the record. most of the time it was guys from another unit who wanted to prove how badass they were by taking on the infamous howling commandos.) so bar fights themselves weren’t that unusual.
but peggy’s bar fights…oh, they were glorious.
see, peggy never got in a fight for no reason; she was smarter than that. but when she did fight, it was truly beautiful. ive never seen a better right cross, before or since.
so one time we were on leave, sipping drinks in this english pub. the howlies were at the back table, enjoying a couple pitchers, while peggy was up at the bar, chatting with the barmaid. many of the bars and pubs back then had female bartenders–filling the gaps with the men off at war. and generally barmaids (which was what a female bartender was called back then) were the sort of girl pegs got along with–sensible, dependable, and not willing to take shit from any man. so she often enjoyed commiserating with the barmaids while we drank. she used to say she had to be free of us ‘charming gentlemen’ before she wound up blowing things up as erratically as we did. which was hurtful. our explosions were very intentional. mostly.
so peggy got to chat about the best ways to hurl drunken idiots out doors and we got to ply steve with alcohol to see how much booze it would take to make him drunk. (tragically, we never found out.)
on this particular occasion, peggy was sitting at the bar when this mountain of a man came in. and i mean huge. thor-sized. like the hulk’s pinker younger brother. and with him came a dozen or so of his closest friends, all locals. (they may also have been poorly disguised orcs. im not sure, but i wouldn’t discount it as a possibility after seeing all the nonsense ive seen) the group of them made their way up to the bar, wedged their way in, and started harassing the barmaid.
now, i don’t know what they said. peggy refused to repeat it. all i know is that one of the larger idiots said something stupid, laughed, and reached out to grope the barmaid. his hand made it about six inches from her chest when peggy’s fist broke his nose. he hit the floor like a tree falling, and the bar went quiet for a split second before one exceptionally suicidal idiot lunged at peggy.
everything went crazy. there were a good few dozen of us 107th guys in the bar, and all of us knew and adored pegs, so when the mountain-men went after her, every fine man of the 107th went after them. but it turned out that the locals defended their own, and we were pretty evenly matched for numbers. within seconds, everyone was throwing punches. bottles were thrown. dernier used a tablecloth to blind a man and threw him out a window. dumdum used one guy’s fists to hit another guy. i hurled bottlecaps at people’s eyeballs, because it’s fun.(im a sniper. we like distance) steve tried to wade through the chaos to get to peggy, but people kept punching him and then clutching their hands in agony, so he got kind of bogged down.
at the bar, peggy was demonstrating exactly why she was the 107th’s darling–because she could put a grown man twice her size on the ground in two seconds flat. she knocked out six men; seven more promptly fell in love with her.
as the chaos began to wind down, most of the locals had either been beaten down or fled, and only the mini-hulk and a couple others were left, brawling like berserkers. we were just about ready to turn steve loose on them when the barmaid handed peggy a stool. peggy took it, walked up behind where most of us howlies were still duking it out, and broke the stool over the big guy’s head.
he went down hard. the rest of them surrendered out of terror.
(and, possibly, they had also fallen prey to abruptly-in-love-with-peggy-carter syndrome. but really, who wasn’t?)