Discounted Crystal Sale April 21st 2024 Item List
For the rules and how the sale works, please refer to this post!
Set #1
Set #2
Set #3
Set #4 - Sold Out!
Set #5
Set #6
The list will be periodically updated. Thank you!
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what are your favourite ambient albums tell me your favourite ambient artists i dont care what definition of ambient if you think its ambient and you love it send it i need to expand my knowledge so much further i need to hear it all
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The way it's depicted, Cybertron's pre-war societal issues had a lot less to do with Functionism and more to do with unchecked government corruption, massive wealth disparity, high layoff/unemployment rates, and disenfranchisement.
People were starving, they needed work, they weren’t getting any. Those that were fortunate enough to have work didn’t get paid living wages, much less have anything to spare for health contingencies. Even then stability’s still the luxury of the top few tiers; they live one cut away from layoff. The government cared only enough to exacerbate these issues by coming up with new ways for exploitation. Any attempts to protest or lobby were shut down through political persecution. As a result the masses turned increasingly to crime, drug abuse, thuggery, and violence. Extreme acts of terrorism gets lauded as long as the collateral damage's suffered by someone else. Morality and caution are eroded in the face of desperation.
Meanwhile the many alleged restrictions of Functionism are just lip service complaints made by the characters which doesn’t match up to most of the stuff we’re shown. Like if Rung could become a psychologist, a specialized job that requires higher education, despite having zero background on top of such a weird alt that he had to be classified as an ornament, then wow the functionists must be open-minded. If Dominus Ambus could be a scientist/doctor/explorer/author/successful social rights advocator during the height of functionist control with a minesweeper military-use alt (assuming that his secondary alt's the same as Minimus'), then wow the functionists must be accommodating. If Tyrest could become chief engineer under Nova and later go into law, a complete change of profession, while being a jet, then wow functionism's flexible. If Ratbat and Momus could become senators in a society that discriminates heavily against beastformers and labor frames, then wow that’s progressive. If every Prime from Nova to Zeta (with the exception of Sentinel, his alt’s a tank, he only has wings in Megatron Origin as part of his Apex armour upgrade), every single named pre-war senator other than Proteus and Momus, and four out of five of Nova Prime’s buddy club (only Galvatron's a grounder) were wingframes in a society that supposedly discriminates against wingframes, then wow that’s… inconsistent worldbuilding.
Megatron didn’t get into bloodsports or start a war because he didn’t get to pursue his dream job. He got driven into the pits and down the slippery slope of moral degeneration because his only source of income was cut off by the mine closure incident. People wanted livelihoods above anything else, it's the failure to provide that that made the miners go off the deep end and resulted in the death of a guard. If Functionism actually ensured that everyone could be guaranteed a job or at least minimized the unemployment rates, then stratified castes or not, there would have been no war. People, or societies, are generally capable of tolerating an incredible amount of injustice as long as the majority still have a chance at scraping by at the end of the day. But the government, and later Megatron, kept yanking the rug out from under everyone over and over until they no longer even had a chance at that; there's no other choice left but fight or die.
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Discounted Mineral Lot Sale December 9th, 2023 List
To claim an item, please comment on the individual post. The complete rules can be found here. Please be sure to read the rules before claiming :)
Mineral Lot #1 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #2
Mineral Lot #3 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #4 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #5 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #6 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #7 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #8 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #9- Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #10 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #11
Mineral Lot #12 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #13 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #14 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #15 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #16 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #17 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #18 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #19 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #20 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #21 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #22 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #23 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #24
Mineral Lot #25 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #26 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #27 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #28 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #29 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #30 - Sold Out!
Mineral Lot #31
Mineral Lot #32
Thank you so much! I will periodically update the list with sold out items.
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Papa is too far gone to remember, now.
Papa, with soot on his clothes, coal-dust lungs and smoke-stained teeth; with his stiff-canvas collar tickling her chin and sunlight in his hair and his hands so warm—
Hey, sweet girl. Did'ja sleep okay?
She remembered his voice the clearest. It was all she could remember. Slurring and soft and centuries old.
And Papa was gone. Snuffed like a flame. Vi was burning. And Vander was there.
Vander, with his smoke-stained teeth and stiff-canvas collar. Vander, whose voice didn't sound right—
Hey, sweetheart. Hotcakes for breakfast, right?
The boys liked him—Vi liked him—Powder refused to call him Dad—
(Because he wasn't wasn't never would be—)
And Vander was gone. Burnt up in blue and fire. Vi was burning out. And she was gone, too—a blot of ash, swept back to the shadows; Vi was gone, and—
Never been fond of tea, myself.
A new voice. New face. Not Papa, not Vander, not Vi—
But he frowns like her. Has scars like her. Papercuts on his fingers and burn spots on his thumbs. Smoke-stained teeth and soft-silk collar, and a whole drawer of shirts that still smell like soot.
His hand is cold, so cold in hers—but he squeezes her fingers back, lightly, and it feels like—
Which jams do you prefer, child? Blackcurrant, or raspberry?
Dunno. We never had any of those.
Well. Snide, like a secret: Most the lot of us hadn't.
And he makes her toasted bread and butter, the way Papa used to. Lets her pick the jam jars by the color, the way Papa let her pick her juice by the prettiest shade. And she sits at the counter, stares at his scratched up hands and the night in his hair and his mismatched eyes, centuries old, and wipes her crumbs on her sleeve.
Powder would have refused to call him Dad—so Jinx does, too.
But he sets a coffee on the varnish, lights up a cigarette, and asks, Did you sleep well, little dove?
And it's almost—
Almost enough.
powder/jinx, on father figures / what you never said.
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