Father, it’s me Michael,

I did it, I found it, it was right way you said it would be,

they were all there, they didn’t recognize but then,

they thought I was you *sigh* and I found her,

I put her back together, just like you asked me to,

she’s free now, but something is wrong with me,

I should be dead, but I’m not, I’ve been living in shadows,

there is only one thing left for me to do now,

I’m going to go find you,

*deeper metallic voice* I’m going to go find you…


Sɴᴇᴇᴢʏ Mʀ. Wɪɴᴋ (As ʀᴇʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ Nᴜᴀᴅᴀ)

Allow me to share something very interesting about my dear friend, Mr. Wink.

He is a troll possessed of many quirks. I am not certain whether all cave trolls have such quirks or whether he is unique in this, but I find it intriguing and amusing nonetheless. Of all the many nuances of how Mr. Wink sees the world, none is stranger than how angry he gets at his own sneezes. Simply put, he despises them… and also misinterprets their cause.

When Mr. Wink sneezes, or rather when he is about to sneeze, he tries with all his might to hold it in. Sometimes he is successful, after which he preens and is noticeably proud of his accomplishment. But if he should fail, the results are very comical. At least.. for me. The offending sneeze that got away will cause him to roar and shake his fist, as if said sneeze was an actual physical assailant standing before him in defiance of all he holds dear. I can always tell when Mr. Wink has suffered a bout of sneezing even if I am not sharing a room with him currently, for his roar of frustration when that occurs is distinct and unlike any other he employs throughout his days.

Should a sneeze push through his stalwart attempt to resist it and dare to offer a second or third sneeze right after it, the troll truly becomes enraged. It seems to me that Mr. Wink thinks a sneeze is something happening to him, some flaw in his physiology permitting insects to crawl up his nose or poison dust in the air to find him or something of that sort. In other words, he thinks sneezes are an indication of something trying directly to do him harm. However, I should mention that when he is forced to submit to a sneeze, it is not the prospect of any injury promised by his non-existent nasal enemies that offends him, but rather it is the notion that he has failed to fend off the attack. Or… that he has failed at all. Mr. Wink detests personal failure, you see.

It takes about half an hour for Mr. Wink to calm himself after a sneeze or two. During such time, he will roar, shake his fist at the air, stomp around, perhaps break a few things, and release his mechanical hand at the wall. I have asked him to limit himself to walls that are not load bearing and certainly not those within my own abode, and he obliges me.

I am afraid I am quite the poor friend, for I cannot help but smile and even chuckle at his level of frustration. I have tried to explain to him that sneezing merely occurs when something - it could be an innocent bit of dust or feather or hay even - tickles one’s nose, and that it has nothing to do with an offensive attack by tiny airborne invaders or poison gas. Unfortunately, Mr. Wink continues to revile his sneezes to this day. At least it is good for a lark to watch his reaction to them.

man what the actual heck…it’s weird to think that the man who’s influenced a lot of people’s childhoods is gone at such a young age! but we should take the time to thank him for the happiness he’s given all of us through all of his creations with everyone else at nintendo. Mr. Iwata you will be missed! <3 

Saw a man refusing to let his pregnant wife off the porch because he “saw a rat the size of a dog and I will NOT let it bite you, please go back inside darling”. Made me wonder how protective the Maheswaran’s were of their baby.

The United States of Horror


Fitting for a show about those occupying society’s technological substrata, Mr. Robot’s characters are often placed at the very bottom of the frame. This leaves massive amounts of headroom that suggests a great weight hanging over their heads, and echoes their isolation: When they’re talking right to each other, they seem alone. [x]