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zeemczed · 1 year

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Orators, Pt. 1/???

"Your Karkat is weak." He was silent for several seconds as I waited for more. He shuffled through the pages, his expression betraying nothing. I hated that about him. Finally, he handed the full sheaf back to me. "Your Karkat is weak, and your John is insipid. The structure is good, but the characters can't bear the weight of the plot."

"They bear it through in the end."

"Yes, but not as they should. Too much reliance on deus ex machina. They thud and blunder to victory, not coming through as the flawed-yet-radiant entities they are." He raised his hand as he did when he was in the forum - oh, here the fuck we went, he was in Orator Mode. And still emoting as much as a godsdamned brick. "Remember, they are Us, but Beyond. To be a Human is to be Orc beyond Orc. To be a Troll is to be Elf beyond Elf. They are our fears, our foibles, and our strengths magnified to the position of the Gods that they are. They are our archetypes for a reason, novice."

"Aye, aye." I rubbed my eyes slowly.

"You have buried yourself in manuscript too long. Take six days away from it to let your mind relax." He clapped me on the shoulder twice. "Go. Indulge your passions, set your head to other things." He paused. "Have some fuckin' Rock `n Rye." I snorted. That was the most informal I'd ever heard him get. I bowed.

"Ave." And with that, I left. No reason to dawdle. A sophist like him had other students waiting.

I didn't have a car (or any other three-to-four wheeled device) waiting. I walked. Better to feel the pulse of the polis. I captchalogued the manuscript, thinking the better of just tossing it in the trash. Yes, I'd do that when I got home, but I didn't want anyone to steal the plot I'd come up with. Not until it was published and on the stage.

As I passed the Temple of the Bastard, I did decide that - yes - I needed to heed at least that one bit of advice. There was a Faygo machine there, and a few radiates later, I had my can of vaguely cherry-vanilla flavored delight. I drank, and listened.

Two drunks, arguing over politics. Nothing vital. Nothing really intelligible, given that one was convinced that Timarius was still in the Synod. A young mother telling her child that the gods didn't really exist, that they were just stories. A boxer discussing his trade with a young fan. Two children discussing the spirituality inherent in coding.

Life was messy. Life was complicated.

Life was created by the gods in their image.

He had to be wrong about it. He just had to.

#Homestuck #AU #Post-canon #Not epilogue compliant #Not Homestuck^2 compliant #Not sure where this is going #But sibkin #It's fuckin' going

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is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not · 26 days

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Angels From On High

“MAKE IT FASTER!” screeched Melissa Hazen, Commanding General of the SLDF into her quarters’ bedside commpanel. Two hours… TWO HOURS since the distress beacon. Two hours in which her friend might have died. She would not allow it. Katrina was trothkin, sibkin, a sister. She would not die today. “General, we are dropping at maximum safe -” the voice, a Clan one from its tone and accent said, neutral, trying to provoke her anger. But it did. “I do not give one stravag damn what is safe! Push the engines to breaking if you have to! Katrina is not dying on me!” Another voice cut in, and Melissa froze as Theodora sat up beside her.

“Melissa, listen to me. We have done all we can for now. Save your fury for those who have earned it.” The beautiful, Germanic voice, tone measured and calm. Theodora. Her Theodora. Her wife-to-be. And her fellow warrior. Melissa, poised to strike the wall in anger, stopped, breathed. She was still angry. But not at the dropship crew, not at anyone, really, other than herself. It was her planning that led to the delay. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The problem had started when Melissa entered the Mechbay, twenty minutes later. Karrie and Sigrid were working on the Nest. Karrie had bodily swung herself out of the cavernous seeming left torso as Melissa and Theodora walked up. She had looked up to Sigrid, whose head was poking out of the cockpit access hatch. “Is it clear?!” Karrie had shouted to her assistant. “Nope!” “Well, shit,” Karrie had whispered to herself, then turned and beheld Melissa walking over. She waited until the two MechWarriors were close before saying, “General, ma’am, I’ve got a problem with the left side #3 magneto array on the reactor. It’s giving a drop on run-up. Now I’m pretty sure it’s just the sensors. I can fix it while you walk.” That had brought Melissa up short. “Seventy-five percent reactor power?” she asked levelly, a statement more than a question. The Nest couldn’t sustain drop velocity jump jet operation on seventy five percent power. But Karrie, her face unchanged from its state of determined confidence, had simply said, “I can do this, ma’am.” Theodora’s Germanic accented voice spoke next, almost incredulous. “That's verrückt. What are you going to do, ride in the torso?” Karrie merely looked over her shoulder at the towering Highlander ‘Mech, and then back at Melissa, who said simply, “very well, give it a go,” and walked past Karrie to perform her pre-start checks. “Yes, ma’am,” said Karrie, as Theodora, still standing in front of her, merely nodded in respect.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “I'm not sure about this, Love,” said Theodora’s voice over the radio, as Melissa maneuvered the Nest out of her cubicle, to stand by Theodora’s Gewitter on the centerline of the Mechbay, beginning their slow march to the doors, which were open, showing the chaos of the landing operation - PPCs opening up from the ground, aerospace fighters swarming about, and more. Music, bagpipes, came from outside. “Fixing a reactor on the hardstand is one thing, but on the move?” Theodora asked rhetorically. Melissa answered anyway, the cockpit hatch of her ’Mech open as she walked. With each step, the music grew louder. “Karrie says she will do it, she will do it… believe… believe,” she said, her tone full of belief. “Yeah, yeah…” Melissa leaned out of her cockpit and yelled. “HOW ARE WE DOING THERE, KARRIE?! I HAVE TO LEAD THIS DROP.” Karrie’s voice, amplified by a throat mic, answered from within Nest’s torso. “On it, General! Going as fast as I can!” She rooted about, adjusting the magneto arrays with a micro-screwdriver, flashlight held in her mouth. “40 meters to go, Melissa,” cautioned Theodora as the two ‘Mechs continued their march towards the open doors. “40 METERS, KARRIE!” yelled Melissa. “General, you have a mic, I hear you fine!” Karrie said, through a mouthful of flashlight. She worked hard, using her micro-adjustment tools to make minute changes to the array. With every step, the louds of the music grew louder. Thirty seconds later, Theodora warned, “20 meters to go. It’s not too late to scrub the drop. We could step aside, let the others go first.” “We’re almost up,” said Melissa to Karrie. “Almost there, General!” she replied, at the exact moment she lost her grip on an adjustment wrench. It fell through the sweltering air inside the torso, threatening to drop into the black depths of the Highlander’s leg. Karrie flailed and caught, sighing to herself. Right as the Highlander slowed, and then stopped, turning to face one of the deployment doors. Karrie could hear the sounds of rushing wind grow louder, as the ‘Mech began moving again. That means only, what… 15, no, 10 meters to go! She verified quickly that the repairs were good. The music was now incredibly loud, even through her ear defenders. “You’re good, General!” With that, Karrie swung out of the ‘Mech’s torso, as it passed an inspection lift. She jumped off, tumbling onto the deck of the lift, smiling. She allowed herself a second to watch, as Melissa gave her a thumbs up, and shut the Nest’s cockpit. The Highlander paused, briefly, to gingerly make its way across the final meter. Sealth and Tolki’s Orca waited behind the Highlander, with Melissa stopped at the edge; she bent the ‘Mech’s knees to look down slightly. The world of Helios unfolded beneath her like a great green angry blanket. Fire wreathed the dropship as the last of the reentry plasma sputtered and vanished the hull. And Highland Sights, the official march of the Black Watch, played on the multi-ton reentry-rated speaker arrays molded into the DropShips’ side, played. It was perhaps the loudest music ever played. And it was the signal. That the angels were coming from on high. That Katrina didn’t have fear any longer. Melissa keyed her microphone to the frequency she hoped someone was listening to, spoke nine words, kicked the speakers mounted to her ‘Mech to 11, revved up the jump jets… and stepped off the dropship. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Katrina? Can you hear me?”

The voice of Melissa Hazen sounded in Katrina’s ear, but at first she nearly didn’t recognize it from fatigue. The Ragnarok was at full flanking tilt as she slammed one of the rudder pedals down to use an anchor turn to bring the assault mech to a stop. Dirt carved into a furrow as she skidded and came to rest. Carefully she observed the 360 view in her neurohelmet for movement. Gregory’s Hammerhead slewed its torso over to the right while turning, slowly coming down to a stop nearby.

The streaks of fire through the sky had ceased, instead replaced by music that reverberated throughout the environmental audio sensors. She knew this song. But what song was it? She had heard it before. And how was it being played? What were the- wait. She knew this song.

“Katrina? On your left.”

The Black Watch had arrived on Helios.

@killer-orca-cosplay

#battletech #mechwarrior #story event #oc rp

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saturn-noctua · 3 months

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these aren't my characters. Although I did have a big part in making them. They belong to my sibkin and live in my world. Liluca (left) is the moth version of Kerasiph (right)

#oc #art #my art #digital drawing #digital art #the curse of cassius can #illustration #artwork #drawing #artists on tumblr #not my ocs #cute art

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transenbyconfessions · 1 year

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I am so, so very glad & grateful to be the transiest girl it were ever in my power to imagine, with a fair good sugaring of transy trans transiness left over. I take glee & gree, and I am glad of heart knowing that me ne my brothers ne sisters ne sibkin are alone, or I still breathe 💘🏳️‍⚧️

Submitted May 24, 2023

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starcolonelkatrinamoon · 2 months

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I remember Huntress.

A beautiful world. Rich swamps, tall mountains, and a desert the size of a continent.

I was decanted in 2052, only a few months after the Battle of Tukayyid. Part of a hybrid totem warrior experiment, where the scientists attempted to blend the success of the 2990 totem warrior project with more recent trueborn developments. They failed. All I bear from the attempt are some jaguar patterns on my skin as well as a slightly elevated night sight and improved reflexes. Some obnoxiously delicate jaguar ears as well.

Originally, I was slated to be an Elemental. That was before Operation SERPENT ravaged our beautiful homeworld, ousting us and sending the survivors scrabbling for purchase.

I remember the Fidelis.

It is difficult to forget who raised you and taught you everything you know. They taught me to be the best, just like all the rest. Though before I was raised on Clan Smoke Jaguar honor and mannerisms, the Fidelis raised me on slightly more pragmatic forms of approach. Upon my turning 20, it did not take long to become a Jager, and soon beyond that a MechWarrior.

But it was as heavy shock infantry that they truly let me succeed. Being of Elemental stock, I was able to carry bigger weapons, more armor, and more efficient methods of conducting my duty. I knew no fear but a mission left unfinished.

And yet as time went on, I found myself deployed more often as a MechWarrior. They found me to be quite the effective brawler, to the effect of having a mixed tech Hunchback. The physical durability from the Elemental stock permitted me to pilot more recklessly, while the improved reflexes from the totem warrior mkII attempt kept me sharp. They were tough times.

And finally, I remember being permitted, finally, to call myself a Smoke Jaguar. I remember the Wolves and how they said they would allow us to be a clan once more after the ilClan trial.

After recent deployments that waste equipment and lives of my Cluster, I have been feeling very… un-clan-like. Efficiency, resourcefulness, and not being wasteful are espoused as true marks of a Clanner.

And yet, more and more of my Sibkin die for causes that did not require this level of deployment. There are so few of us now.

I am Star Colonel Katrina Moon of Clan Smoke Jaguar, Alpha Galaxy, Third Cluster. Let this be a record of my deeds.

#battletech #oc lore

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the-clawtake · 1 month

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SCOLDED

(So it turns out, Jehan has always had a habit of... liberal interpretations of orders. As his Ursari is not scared of informing him. Even if, frustratingly for his superiors, he tends to be right.)

“And that was the reasoning behind my chosen course of action, Ma’am.” Jehan stifled a wince as his sibkin finished the explanation. It was, given the information on which it had been based, a perfectly reasonable explanation, but Jehan had disagreed from the beginning with the other cadet’s interpretation of the briefing, and in hindsight, had been correct.

“Well reasoned. Your logic is sound, Cadet. A pity then, that you based your conclusions on flawed data.” The tutor panned her gaze across the other members of the Sibko where they were gathered around the holotable, before fixing a stare back on the luckless cadet. “You’re briefing specified that the Opfors had made no declaration of intent, and offered no formal Batchall. You were informed of the class of dropship that had been tracked making a landing, and had access to the information detailing it’s capabilities. Furthermore a brief examination of the insignia on the dropship imagery provided, or a consideration of the foe’s IFF frequencies should have clued you in that they had no Clan affiliations, and thus could not be expected to follow Zelbriggen. I am disappointed in you, Cadet. Do better.” She turned now to Jehan.

“And you. Cadet Jehan. Would you care to inform me what your orders were?”

“Aff, Ursari. Proceed to the marked Nav point, maintain radio silence, and await further instructions.”

The tutor nodded, hummed briefly. And then inquired, in a honeyed tone.

“And do you feel, Cadet, that your actions were in compliance, with those orders?” Jehan paused at this. Considering.

“Aff.” he said after a moment, with a confidence he did not feel. “I proceeded, as ordered, to the assigned nav. At no point did I break radio silence. I was, at every stage of the exercise, ready and willing to recieve updated orders.”

“And that is how you would record it in your after-action report? Neg, do not answer. We shall see.” The Ursari pressed a control on her remote, and the projection on the holotable shimmered into movement. Another toggle and the transparent projection of an Alpha pattern Adder shifted from glowing a pale blue to a bright yellow. As they watched the replay of the exercise, Jehan’s Adder approached the marker for the nav point the cadet commanding the exercise had set, paused for a moment, and then continued moving, off the ridgeline he had been assigned, down a defile and into a wash that would put him in a more advantageous position if the opfors had deployed it’s full capability and not just what had been detected.

“That does not look like awaiting further instructions at the Nav, Cadet. You may not have agreed with your commander’s orders, or his interpretation of the briefing, however I observed that briefing. You raised your concerns at the time. Your commander chose to disregard them. That is on him. However. Disregarding his orders reflects on you.” The playback continued. The second opposition star, the one the dropship had the capacity for, but who’s deployment had not mentioned in the briefing, swept over the nav point unopposed, but missed Jehan’s Adder in it’s concealed position.

The commanding Cadet gave the order to engage. From his concealed position, Jehan began to loose volleys of LRMs on the weaker rear armour of the second star Battlemech’s, who turned to engage him en masse. By the time he went down, a Dragonfly and a Black Hawk were shattered hulks, but the remaining three ‘Mechs joined the primary star, and soon the rest of the Cadet star joined him in defeat. The Sibko watched in silence, until the Ursari stopped the playback.

“This scenario was intended as a no-win from the beginning. You are reaching the point in your training where you cannot afford to be unaware of shortcomings. A return to the Inner Sphere could happen any time, and you must all be ready and prepared. Cadet Hans, you make assumptions. You do not examine your preconceived notions, and this negatively impacts your decision making. Cadet Jehan, you have a bad habit of disregarding orders you do not agree with. This is likely to get you killed, by Trial of Grievance if not by enemy action. These are failings you both must correct. And as for the rest of you...” She turned to each Cadet who had been involved in the exercise in turn, calling out their shortcomings, explaining where they needed to improve, or what they needed to alter.

#battletech #mechwarrior #star colonel jehan mackenzie #Ask The Clawtake #Glimpses of the Past

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pokemon-ash-aus · 1 year

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I wanted to mention about false twins ash‘s death. First of all i noticed just how scared and disheveled he looks, his little spike appears Sheared off, his fur is wild and unkempt, the dark pits under his eyes, a noticeable crick in his neck and so on.

I also imagine his voice as sounding far darker and deeper than that of his younger self, wissende but also creaking and rasped to show just how old and weathered he is. But when he‘s actually dead I imagine his voice returning to that of the child from so long ago for just a brief moment when his says "misty" or the "without me" at the end when he thinks of how his family will fair now that he‘s gone. As he‘s reminded of his old companions and sees they still remember him even after centuries, of his family and his friends, of all those how cared about him and counted on him we see glimpse of that child, of who he once was.

Another point To make is the ash sounds pretty fearless. You said he had been in hundreds of battles and fought way harder than both his siblings gs to the point of cutting his own life short. He had been through way more than the others and pressed on no matter how hard things got or bleak things seemed. He seems like the kind of guy to stair into face of death itself and not even blink.

He was that guy.

Ash didnt stop traveling around even as his friends family and Pokemon passed on. He still made friends and he still protected Pokemon and Humans alike.

He made sure that his time on earth was one well spent and a life worth living.

He was a Grandfather that looked after his Half Siblings long after their parents passed, and then continued that tradition when his Sibling had a family and so on and so forth.

He battled to protect what was his. He and his sibkins battled many different times, the main difference being that he just couldnt care for himself in the middle of it. Had he just given it a bit of time, he would have easily been able to heal himself and go on for thousands of years after.

But circunstances are needed.

And yeah! He's very battle worn. His fur is slightly unkempt because of scars on his skin, not for a lack of grooming. His middle spike has been broken off (painful but not the worst of his injuries) His tail is actually cut off midway (That hurt for years), theres scarring all over his body- usually just small nicks and cuts save for the brutal looking ones on his face

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itsclydebitches · 5 years

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Sometimes i think abiut how Blake and Ozpin would be a very good mentor and student pair, im recently watching RWBY chibi for Ozpin content and saw an episode where everyone in RWBY had a parent ke sibkin bf excpet for blake, and i thought her and ozpin would get along. Canonically hes tried to reach out to her too. And maybe someone would be sympathetic towards him whe volume 6 happened.

I would have loved that, yes! Especially in a volume where Blake would have to deal with Adam again at the end of it... that could have been really powerful. Blake understands what it’s like to escape an abusive relationship. She’s been immersed in an overwhelming, seemingly impossible struggle for years now. She had that moment where Ozpin knew she was keeping a secret and let her have it, accepting her into Beacon anyway. Blake was in a fantastic position to add a counter voice this volume and that would have likewise added an interesting dimension to her and Yang’s relationship. She’s desperate to get back into Yang’s good graces, but also doesn’t agree with how she’s treating Ozpin and assessing the situation. What will Blake prioritize?

It once again strikes me exactly how much work the vision did to establish that emotional setup--sympathy for Salem and Ozpin--only to erase it all the moment the vision ended. We spent that whole 20mins emphasizing sympathy, mostly through Ruby, Oscar, and Weiss:

and Yang is presented as a contrast. She still looks pissed at Ozma long before they learn about Salem. This is right before his meeting with Light. All he’s done so far is die, but Yang isn’t visually showing us any concern for what he’s been through, unlike the rest of the cast. She’s meant to be the outlier.

And we see it again in the final moments of the vision. When Jinn says, “You can’t” everyone--including Blake--follows Ozma’s fall to the floor, all three emoting sympathy with hands up by their chests, wide-eyes, or drooped ears. Yang, again, stands apart. She clenches her eyes shut and balls her fists. She’s not interested in looking at him. She’s been poised to get angry again this whole time and now finally has a reason to be.

The more I re-watch this episode the more obvious it appears that we were supposed to get a variety of reactions, that Yang was meant to be the extreme outlier, that Blake, Weiss, Ruby, and Oscar would all have different levels of understanding regarding the situation... and then we just didn’t get that lol.

So yeah, I would have loved to see Blake reaching out to him, using that as a moment of personal growth removed from Yang or White Fang stuff. Too bad we didn’t get it.

#rwby #rwby spoilers #mymetas #personal-guppydesu

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