I like Shu's character and visual design a lot but so much of her gameplay design is stupid in a way that I feel like bodes pretty poorly for the future of the game.
Here's her talent 2. It's really good and also kind of really stupid.
Specifically the "when there are 4 Sui Operators in the squad" part. It's kind of absurdly fucking good. +12% ATK is a lot and +1 SP / 4 seconds is also a lot, especially when it applies to all skills that require SP, and not just auto-recover ones. The fact that it only requires them to be on the squad and not necessarily deployed is stupidly good, you don't even have to deploy them to get a massive buff to everyone. Almost all the "give buffs just by being on the squad lineup" talent effects are relatively small in numerical effect and relatively conditional (often times only affecting a single class or faction) but this one provides an effect that is universally useful and has obscenely good numbers on it. And it requires you to have 4 specific limited ops from a faction for which there are currently only 5 playable units for! If you want to make use of this effect and currently don't have any of the Sui or you just recently started playing or any other reason, well, you better have 1200 pulls!
But wait! There's more bullshit.
(I don't really trust the EN AK wiki, but I do trust prts.wiki and they seem to corroborate this, although to be fair I am reading google translated text.)
They made it so the 3rd part of her talent 2 doesn't work if you borrow her from Support. That's right, even if you wanted to make use of her talent 2 3rd effect and have every other Sui in the game but you got unlucky on pulls and didn't want to spend 300 entire pulls for a single character, you can't! Fuck you!
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when it comes down to it, however much i think about eiffel's memory, whatever my reasoning might be, i think there's a much simpler core explanation for why i feel the way i do. i've said before that, if eiffel did regain his memory, i would want it to happen through 'an eiffel version of change of mind' i.e. a personal inner journey where the narrative he tells himself amounts to some greater reminder, self-confrontation, and self-realization. and that's just it:
eiffel regaining his memory wouldn't be a cop out to me for the same reason that lovelace not actually dying isn't a cop out: it's not just a story beat, it's a catalyst for character development & a better understanding of lovelace as a person. eiffel has spent his whole life trying not to be the person he is, and i just don't feel wolf 359 is the type of story to let him off the hook for that, when the ending is as much about accountability (to ourselves and to others and all the ways those responsibilities overlap) as it is about hope. i think there are ways you could argue that eiffel can still be eiffel without regaining his memory, but i think i've convinced myself that the symbolic resurrection / self-confrontation and acceptance of all the people he's been in the past, in order to move forward, is the more compelling option, especially for what it parallels, and the "eiffel is still eiffel" part is non-negotiable. it doesn't even feel like a question to me.
(and it makes the most sense to me in the context of eiffel's survivor's guilt - "of course i was fine. the driver's always fine." - and tendency towards a type of self-sacrifice and self-punishment that the show ultimately denies him / that doesn't address his real problem. he thinks sacrificing himself for the people he cares about will make up for something, but it won't. having him make that sacrifice and then keep living and keep being doug eiffel, with everything that means, feels like the natural extension of constructive criticism.)
in another story, or in a more theoretical context, there are all kinds of questions you could ask about whether eiffel's memory loss means he's a different person now, but in this case... i think it's better understood in narrative terms and what it represents for him as a character than any broader philosophical conclusion about the nature of the self and human consciousness. (and it is in no way as absolute as people sometimes behave like it is, considering he still has a concept of, like... everything. but that's a whole other topic of discussion.) most importantly, i just don't believe wolf 359 is a story about ideas as much as it is a story about people, these people, and in order to (hypothetically) continue to tell a story about doug eiffel, well. he has to still be doug eiffel. one way or another.
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senseific ask time yet again: is there a non-placeholder title for it already? and is the fic turning out completely different from what you’ve had in mind at first (the length of it doesn’t count)?
1. a title? nope. I tend to title my fics towards the end of writing (or sometimes only when I’m writing up my ao3 listing lol so the literal last possible second) it’s going to be an interesting time for sure when I eventually have to think about titles… and chapter titles too… both daunting and fun. senseific is like my baby at this point it’s gonna feel so odd. I think I remember you mentioning you like to title things earlier and that surprised me! now that you mention it though it might be good to start thinking it over...
2. I’m not sure, since my initial ideas on senseific were pretty vague. I suppose I was anticipating it being more lighthearted, but in the end I think it’s going to be a bit more serious? I’d always imagined yagami and kitakata fighting quite a bit and it not necessarily being a big deal, but things didn’t really end up that way. their disagreements are more loaded than I anticipated...
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oh, also: Panic, buckle, calm, and never?
✨ send me a word & find it in my wip! ✨
When Bradley is awakened by a panicked shout in the middle of the night, he’s there in an instant, disentangling twisted sheets and reaching for Maverick’s hand, offering a tight hug and you’re ok, it was just a dream over and over until it sinks in.
(i didn't have anything for buckle unfortunately!)
During the relative silence that follows the read symbol appearing next to the text, Mav is already debating how to go about drawing back, how to be cautious and less forward, more calm and collected, when the answer at last pops in.
He can’t have whatever it is that will fix it- not that he knows that anything will- but at the very least, he wants to admit it to someone other than himself, to apologize for the things he’s thought but never said, as if getting them out of their cage inside of his head will rid him of their poison.
THANK U SO MUCH ONCE AGAIN FOR SENDING ME THIS ASK OMG THIS WAS SO FUN !!! <3 <3 I HOPE U ENJOY...... a couple of these had a lot of options to choose from and it was a tough pick akdfjfhfj
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I think it would be very thematically appropriate if none of the Agnian commanders really got along with each other before the gang starts building their Aionios Mutual Aid Network, forcing them to start playing nice with each other.
Teach has a Reputation(tm), especially among those who remember Colony Chi, Isurd is completely impossible to work with because Lambda self-selects for people who are just as bureaucratic as he is, the previous commander of Iota was a known shitbag and Alexandria has done little to distinguish herself because the aura of menace serves her authority, and nobody knows poor Juniper and Fiona exist because their Consuls were actively isolating them.
Agnus also clearly has a stronger honour culture than Keves. Kevesi colonies certainly don’t work with each other more while everyone is still stuck using the Flame Clocks, but I got the impression that their commanders are at least generally in good terms with each other. They also have rogue colonies like Eleven and Fifteen that said “nuts to that” and are in borderline active rebellion against the Castle even before the events of the game, Flame Clocks or no. In contrast, as the system starts unraveling, Agnus looks like it might drift into actual civil war, and the soldiers and commanders alike seem to place a much stronger emphasis on duty in service to the Queen than survival.
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“Come on.”
“Uh?”
Diane looks up as Naomi stands and holds out her hand as if this isn't a ridiculously careless thing she's asking her to do, as if neither of them has the good sense to mention that neither one of them has any idea what they're getting themselves into. As if neither of them might be walking straight into a trap of their own making, or nothing much will change at all and they'll forget about each other in a month, or a few days. As if it's a risk worth taking to find out which.
As if there's anything else to do today.
“I'm not going to the hospital.”
“I know.” Naomi reaches a little closer. “I have a first aid kit at home.”
Enough to get them through, that's all. Enough for now.
“You know how to wrap it?” Diane asks as she takes Naomi's hand to pull herself up, as though the answer might change her mind somehow. Naomi smiles a little, as though she knows it just as well that it won't.
“Yeah.” She sets Diane's hand down on her shoulder. “It's not far, come on. I'll carry you down the stairs.”
“You'll drop me.”
“I will not.” Naomi urges her forward, along the concrete path out of the park. “I mean I'm just offering, I don't have to.”
It's a nice gesture, though, isn't it? It was a nice thought.
They walk slowly down the street, stepping more or less in sync past the general store with the baking supplies just past the doorway, turning at the corner to walk toward the coin laundry that's open even at three in the morning and also on holidays. A hand-drawn poster in the window of the discount shoe store across the street loudly advertises VACUUMS REFURBISHED while a Times New Roman printout on the telephone cubicle in the middle of the block offers “suitable compensation” in exchange for willing test subjects, No Questions Please; a few steps farther along stands an apartment building that somehow looks like it's missing a couple of stories, and Diane shifts her weight to her good leg as Naomi steps away to fumble with the lock on the front door.
“It's the door on the left,” Naomi says, the door sticking only slightly as she shoves it open. “When you get to the basement.”
She opens the first door on the right, a stairwell that only leads down.
“Upstairs is that door over there, but I don't know any of the neighbors, so. I'm not gonna introduce you to anyone.”
That's fine. Diane doesn't want to know any of them, either.
Naomi walks down the stairs first and doesn't try to carry her.
“Bathroom's at the end of the hall,” she says. “The taps aren't broken, the water's just cold when it's cold outside and warm when it isn't, but if you let it run for a little while, it'll...fix itself. And make sure you don't touch the water heater, it's metal and it gets really hot sometimes.”
Diane clutches the wooden banister nailed to the wall as she limps her way down and wonders how much of all this she's supposed to remember. All of it, probably. It isn't very complicated.
Naomi unlocks the door on the left and holds it open.
“You can sit on the bed.”
It's good of her to offer. It isn't much of a bed, really, more of a mattress pushed into the corner, but that isn't exactly a surprise, and it's good of her to offer all the same.
“Thanks,” Diane says, a little too late to seem quite natural. Naomi hums a disinterested acknowledgment and doesn't seem to mind.
“Take off your shoes.”
Diane promptly unties her sneakers, placing them on the floor beside the bed as Naomi kneels in front of her with a roll of ACE bandage in her hand and her eyes focused on Diane's ankle like she's the only attending physician in the entire complex who doesn't have better things to do with her time than tend to something as trivial as all this. Diane should count herself lucky the timing worked out the way that it did.
Lucky, was it? It's about time.
The single bulb in the overhead light flickers a little as if a public execution has just disrupted the power grid, or someone's turned on too many air conditioners at once and blown a fuse a few floors up.
“Don't worry about it,” Naomi says. Diane doesn't bother to assure her that she wasn't.
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anybody else have that thing where you feel like you want to cry but you can't cry so you think "okay i'll just listen to some sad music and that'll make me cry" but you know there's a very good chance it won't make you cry and you'll just be sitting there even sadder than you already were so you don't bother with it?
just me?
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