#consistently became worse with every scene he appeared in and. I CANNOT in simple terms state how much he fucking. I can't. I can't.

[seth-burroughs]

I don't think that the reason why Number One's homunculus came out perfect and everyone else's was defective is that No1 had a ""Superior"" extra wrinkly guinness record brain or whatever the fuck. It's most likely because, you know, the UG facility's research was probably way better funded and carefully, well, researched, and picked out just one individual to focus on cloning -- on the other hand, KW's Project: Homunculus was unbelievably fucking rushed because Huesca wanted so bad to have one over the unified government he just started raw dogging the experiments and collected the DNA of almost every single person in that city because even if their homunculi do come out a bit undercooked at least they've got the numbers babyyyyy take that unified fuck. I think more thought and care went into building all these damn clone pods we saw for all of them than their actual creation. "something unexpected occured in our efforts to find suitable DNA" -> "i will die in approx. 20 seconds and STILL I won't admit I any% blind speedran playing god and failed due to the easily foreseeable consequences of my abysmal choices. It's actually a dna skill issue on those defects fuck them pinkies my final message. goodbye"

#massive passionate love-hate relationship with Huesca that guy really just made the biggest impact in the game #consistently became worse with every scene he appeared in and. I CANNOT in simple terms state how much he fucking. I can't. I can't. #it makes sense of him to do... *that* with the homunculi considering he was explicitly said to use unwilling persons as test subjects #for weapons and also his own escape from KW after the fact. He has absolutely zero regard for human life already #fuck you huesca i love you huesca don't come near me or my family huesca #mine #rain code #why does nobody talk about Huesca he's like mdarc's most influential villain right after the UG. Yomi takes 3rd place only lol #no matter how much Yomi tries he will never be that guy. *shouting* YOU ARE NOTHING BUT AN ANT BENEATH HUESCA'S MAGNIFYING GLASS❗❗❗

[ilikeotherthingstooyouknow]

50 ways to Sanditon challenge #2  @sanditoncreative

(I cannot believe I have another entry already! I haven’t written so consistently in more than 2 years!  This is fun!) 

I chose the Austen Special tourist pack.  Prompts used: a single man, my feelings will not be repressed, truth universally acknowledged

I will also post this to AO3. 

——————————-

A Single Man

The carriage bounced over the uneven road, indicating that his trip was nearing its end.  Soon the track would skirt along the cliffs, marking his return to Sanditon. His head rocked side to side with the motion of the carriage, stirring his thoughts.  

He had first met her on those cliffs, he mused. She had been walking with Mary when he came upon them.  

He had, of course, noted immediately that she was an attractive young woman; though this was nothing out of the ordinary. He was met with dozens of them in town every day.  Perhaps the fact that her hair was down, contrary to fashion, should have alerted him that she was far from an ordinary young woman.  

But it was a truth, universally acknowledged, that single young women were in want of a wealthy, preferably handsome, husband.  And as he was (not to be immodest), rather universally acknowledged to be both he, far too often, had to fend off the advances of many a young lady (and her determined, matchmaking relatives). 

He held no interest in an attachment of that kind.  In fact, he made a point to avoid and, if necessary, deter those who might try to ensnare him.  Although, he usually waited until their attentions became undesirable before he resorted to incivility.  But something about Miss Heywood provoked this… inexplicable irritability in him.

This was the only defense he could raise as to his treatment of her during that brief introduction.  

For he had greeted her poorly indeed, though it was several weeks before he could admit that to himself.  

He had assumed that, like most other pretty girls of his acquaintance, she was more concerned with her embroidery, her singing, and her virtuosity at the pianoforte- and most importantly, with finding a man who would carry her from her father’s house to make her a wife- than anything of substance. He had accused her of making assumptions, but he now realized that he was at least as equally guilty as she.  

The carriage hit a particularly large bump, causing his head to snap violently.  He put a hand out to steady himself.  

But Miss Heywood continually surprised him.  She had no compunction about standing her ground against him, even chastising him in the middle of the street.  He had tried to make clear his disinterest in attachments and she accused him of being offensive and hurtful! It had rendered him momentarily speechless- which was not a situation he often found himself in. 

And her words at Lady Denham’s luncheon… insisting that she would marry only for love, with no interest in her future husband’s prospects- it seemed impossible she could be serious.  A girl from such a large family, with no immense fortune of her own could not possibly be so bold. How would she live? And yet, her voice rang with the sincerity of her conviction. 

She was a conundrum.  

And she said all this, after again reprimanding him for his rudeness.  He had never been spoken to by a young woman in this manner. They were usually too eager trying to win his favor to think of disagreeing with him, too busy flattering and flashing their simpering smiles at him to speak to him in such blunt terms.  “Why not try to be civil?” 

When he offered to take her advice, making a better attempt at gentlemanly behavior, she dismissed him.  And asked that he not use her as his experiment in civility.   

For the second time that week, he was dumbfounded.  But before he could begin to form a response, she had the audacity to pointedly turn to Mr. Crowe, arguably the least civil of his friends, to strike up a conversation.  

He had since spent some time in contemplation of his character, having been called to task on it twice in a matter of days.   

And there was the business with Old Mr. Stringer.  She had leapt into action the moment he was injured and presided over the scene like a field medic.  She didn’t blink at the blood from his injuries, nor at the thought of ruining her dress to fashion a tourniquet- which she deftly applied herself.  

He found himself staring at her, quite taken by her calm competency.  

Her quick thinking continued when they arrived at Trafalgar House, directing its residents and servants alike to collect the materials the doctor would need.  

She was likely as responsible for Mr. Stringer’s favorable outcome as Dr. Fuchs. 

After, when he tried to admit his fault in his judgement of her, she again held her ground, calling him out on his assumptions, on his treatment of Georgiana and of his brother.  She had no qualms speaking her mind, even when most would hold their tongue.  

And to point out so cheekily, that it was he who should be embarrassed over the incident at the cove… What beguiling confidence that woman had.  

And there it was.  She had piqued his interest- in ways no woman had in years. 

Try as he might to get her out of his head, his feelings would not be repressed.  They were the reason he was in that cove in the first place. Tom’s relentless demands certainly contributed, but the emotion provoked by Crowe’s crudeness and her own sharp words sent him into the water to try to sort out his thoughts.  

And of all the terrible luck- she appeared as if summoned by those very thoughts.  Worse, instead of leaving immediately, she stayed to trade words with him. And somehow, even when mortified, she managed to rebuke him for wrongly accusing her of deliberately trespassing on his privacy.  

He huffed a laugh at the memory, shaking his head.  

He could hardly believe that after all he had said to her, all he had assumed, it was she who offered the olive branch. Her suggestion, and the smile that accompanied it, to rewrite their history had struck deep within him.  So much so that he sunk the British fleet, allowing for an unthinkable French victory, in agreement. It was her generosity of spirit that allowed them the happier acquaintance they now enjoyed.  

Not to forget her idea for the regatta, which was quite brilliant.  And it came about from something so simple as watching a little wooden toy float amongst the reeds.  What a remarkable mind she had. 

He couldn’t think of a time he had been so wrong in his judgement.  Far from frivolous- she was an extraordinary woman.  

As his carriage reached the streets of Sanditon, he realized that he was far more eager to see Miss Heywood than to return to the hotel.  He banged on the carriage wall and it slowed enough for the driver to hear him bark, “Trafalgar House.” 

The horses resumed their pace as Sidney contemplated what he might say when he saw Miss Heywood- and what surprising thing she might say next.

#Little did he know it would be an uncannily accurate impersonation of himself… #50 ways to Sanditon #sidlotte #sanditon #sidney parker