favorite thing about them - I’m a huge slut for the big strong quiet types. I also like his fucking tattoo, there was a time i wanted to get the Meta symbol tattooed someplace. I…still kind of wanna.
least favorite thing about them - Ummm their death was bullshit? I mean it was a shitty way to go.
favorite line - RRRUGHGHGHHGHGHGH. Okay kidding, well, the best like wasn’t really HIS like. It was Sigma’s. “Agent Maine, isn’t that the soldier from the freeway, the one that shot you in the throat? I thought so. Sick ‘im.” Like fucking shit Elijah
Wood, shivers down my spine much??
brOTP - Him and Carolina.Also him and Wash and C.T. before everything went to shit.
OTP - *Coughs* Look, I am Self Insert trash, and mIIIGHT ship myself with him.
nOTP - Him and Sigma. That’d be like the farthest thing from healthy. I also refuse to ship Maine and Cliff sides.
random headcanon - He has more than just the ‘Meta’ tattoo. My fave one to think of is on his back, and i’ts something he got before enlisting. It’s a rose covered dragon with thorns all over it.
unpopular opinion - A lot of people seem to associate him with cats because of his close association with Wash or Dogs because hes’a big guy/looks like a dog person, but IMO I think Maine is more of a Horse person, or maybe he’s a Ferret person?
song i associate with them - OTHER than Mental Meta Metal? Hmmm…. This one. Not really because I think it’s a good theme for him but because I just feel like Rock is generally just his kind of music. Plus i mean someone did this really elaborate height analysts of him compared to models of RWBY characters and god hes a monster of a man!
favorite picture of them - well…
LOOK AT THAT SON OF A BITCH, RIGHT THERE ON THE RIGHT WHAT A LOSER.
This classic scene from A Goofy Movie is a wonderful example of building cinematic tension. Notice how as the car gets closer to the freeway junction, the shots not only get shorter and shorter, but the camera moves in closer for an almost claustrophobic effect, reflecting the pressure that Max is experiencing making his decision. On top of that, the camera angles become more and more dynamic as it all plays out, the music cresendos, and at the very end of the piece, the tension snaps right when Max makes his choice. See if you notice any of the implied symbolism among some of the imagery spliced throughout (the map, the signs, etc.).
Project Freelancer was a logistical and logical clusterfuck, Part 2
Well holy shit I did not expect the first part to get the sort of response it did. Thanks everyone! Glad you enjoyed my long-ass ranting. Hope you’re ready to buckle in, because it’s time for part 2!
This time, I’m going to be going through the AI in reverse order of age, looking at their canon Freelancer assignments, maybe giving a bit of character analysis, and then listing who I’d assign them with. It’s a bit harder than the mods version, because we had quite a few successful AI/human partnerships, while most of the enhancement assignments are just pure bullshit. And I’m going to be the bigger person for once and give Leonard a break–he and the Counselor could not have seen the issues with Sigma or Epsilon coming. Omega, however, I’m not going to give them a break on. They should have seen that coming.
Even more so than the last entry, I’m going to emphasize that these are my personal headcanons, opinions, and interpretation of canon, so please don’t take this as some sort of gospel. Even I don’t adhere to all of these headcanons in my fanfic.
*claps hands* And so, with that disclaimer, let’s get started!
I am such a sucker for nice fight choreography (blame all those stage-fighting classes in high school), and while there are much flashier and/or funnier fights in this series–Tex vs. everyone + comedy teleporters, three-minute single-shot freeway chase with the camera rotating 1440 degrees, zero-gee + jetpacks + cars–I think this one is my favorite.
It’s tense, it’s dark, it’s quick, it’s hyper-stylized, it makes fantastic use of the whole hologram-projector thing, and the whole mess is happening between four characters who are extremely sympathetic for extremely different reasons. It’s not hard to believe something terrible’s going to happen at the end of it.
Ginny shows up to a party in a new dress, unaware of the change it will cause in her relationship with Mike.
That dress. Mike had gone on the record on many a talk show proclaiming
Padres blue as his favorite color, but this particular shade of orange, set
against this particular shade of brown skin, was giving his favorite a run for
And her neck. Mike remembered a few ancient poems from college English
classes where a woman’s neck was praised, and his own eye roll that accompanied
their reading. But now he got it. There was something about the smooth skin,
left bare by the taming of her springy curls, that begged for his attention.
His mouth to be more exact.
Her collarbones, delicate but stately, and her cleavage drew his eyes
next. He realized he’d never really seen her chest before. Shirtless players
were so common in the locker room that he didn’t even notice them anymore. But
now there was Ginny, always wearing a Nike sports bra or tank top. And of
course he’d looked (a side effect of functioning eyes and libido) but he had
written them off as nothing special, your average B cups streamlined by
moisture-wicking lycra. Now prominently displayed, he could see he’d been
mistaken. He had to drag his eyes away, remind himself that he was ogling a
Next came her legs. They seemed to go on forever until they disappeared
under the short hem of her sinfully tight dress. He might have believed they
went right up to her waist except for the generous curve of her hips. Again, he
had to make himself look away. She was still his rookie, even if she looked
nothing like her usual self.
He stared too long and caught her eye as she scanned the club’s
dwindling crowd. She smiled as she walked over, her gait swaying slightly. He
guessed it was the difference between four inch heels and her treasured
“I guess I missed the party,” she said with a slight slur
that gave her sway new meaning. “Fucking uber decided to take the freeway
and we got to sit there for an hour.”
“An hour you spent with his minibar, I’m guessing,” Mike
She almost answered but the music distracted her. “I fucking love
She threw her hands up and started dancing. No, not dancing. Writing
was a far more accurate description for the way she moved to the song.