I never thought I’d get to see club penguin’s iceberg tip but here we are, probably 10 years since I stopped believing it was possible, and dreams have come true. (Excuse the sniff in the middle - I was holding back tears)
Neil tried to piece it all together, but the more he pushed, the faster it fell apart. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t know what he was supposed to think. It could be a lie, but Neil knew it wasn’t. Andrew was a lot of unpleasant things, but a pathological liar wasn’t one of them.
The only thing on my mind today was Andrew Minyard and his mocking salute.
It’s super shaky, messy, and rough and the quality sucks sooo bad (I’m sincerely sorry for that, I had insane trouble with the size and resizing, it’s super annoying plus tumblr loves to screw the quality) but anyway.
Now I really wanna animate a few scenes from the books (will only take a life time but whatevs, do I have something better to do with my life ? Yes definitely..but do I care? No.).
Also, thank you for 200 followers and welcome to the fandom who ever just discovered it!!
I can’t believe that a video game and a lego movie are the only two mainstream comic book adaptations that have treated barbara gordon with respect and allowed her to be her own character instead of using her as a plot device to contribute to bruce’s man pain or passing her around in a series of increasingly out-of-character romances with literally every single male batfam member.
a family comedy about lego characters is better with how it handles its female characters than 99.99% of “serious” superhero movies.
[The Apprentice’s Fear] He is not really a Tranquil, that’s just a bad dream.
Monach is the last of my Dragon Age kids, an over sensitive mage apprentice, scared of… everything. He’s been raised in a circle but would probably set himself on fire if he tried to light a candle with magic…
That kid is a walking bomb, ‘could turn into an abomination any time. The Harrowing wasn’t even an option, he had to be made Tranquil. Well. He turned to blood magic in a desperate attempt to run away. (It worked. But the demons keep harassing him in his dreams)
Apparently a lot of people are role playing as witches and playing games pretending to be witches in some sort of alternate reality game.
Just a heads up I guess that not everyone is really who they say they are. Apparently this alternate reality game has a big community and they don’t disclaim they are “playing” and take no issue in engaging with actual witches and pagans with false information and fake stories.
Long day. Long week. Long life. His muscles hurt and his head hurts and his eyes hurt and so on - he can’t be bothered to list it all out, even to himself. Too many sprains and breaks and shatterings in too many places. He’s got the words ‘I don’t care anymore’ on the tip of his tongue and he’s very, very afraid to use them. They’re not retractable.
Cas is watching him from across the room. He’s doing the thing, Dean knows. The thing that they do. The staring; the gameplay, high-stakes, no take-backs, no moves that anyone but themselves can really see. They’ve been playing for so long. Dean’s starting to believe that they both already lost, and it was a long time ago.
“Cas,” Dean says, by means of an opening. He’s more tired of silence than talking.
“Dean,” Cas says, his tone flat, an acknowledgement. “How are you?”
“Fine.” Dean thinks he manages to sound convincing.
Cas pulls a face that is not convinced. Dean doesn’t meet his eye.
“Cas, can we - can we not do this tonight? Can we just not -” He snaps off, his hands raising as if grasping helplessly for the loose ends of his lost sentence. Cas tilts his head.
“What do you want to not do?” he says.
Dean looks down at his hands. He’s got a thousand answers and he’s too tired to say any of them. Play this game anymore. Pretend to be OK when we know that’s a lie. Hide what we really mean behind six layers of shit. Keep each other a thousand miles away and wish we were - we were -
Dean looks up, and meets Cas’ eyes.
“Be alone,” he says hoarsely, stupidly, big man hands twisting like little boy hands in his lap. “I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be alone.”
They lie together that night, in Dean’s bed. They’re not playing the game anymore, Dean knows - but when he looks into Cas’ eyes, he can’t help feeling like he already won.
Las Vegas Aces Captain Kent Parson after having been on the receiving end of some dubiously motivated high sticking. Or something.
(companion Jack piece, but not intended to be the same game, let’s just pretend there’s another team out there that’s full of overly aggressive assholes. Jack and Parse can just sort out their differences by scoring more goals than eachother.)