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#they were crewmates all that time yanno
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I started ME3 with Marian and it's playing I Was Lost Without You while I'm talking to a half-dead Kaidan, and I may be emotional about it T^T
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megayaoi · 4 years
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the foxes playing among us is such a funny thought. LIKE. hear me out
first of all, them all sitting in a discord call is already making me lose my shit, frankly. nicky pinging everyone every few minutes, andrew having nitro and spamming the text channel with Questionable gif emotes from other servers as everyone gets into the call
they flip flop between one and two imposters 
neil immediately claims orange, no argument from the others. aaron goes with lime and just to irk aaron, andrew picks green. allison chooses purple, renee white, seth red, matt blue, dan yellow, nicky pink and kevin cyan. 
i don’t have too strong of thoughts about the accessories they wear but i assure you, allison bought the “1M download bundle” for renee so she could wear the halo
nicky tries to get aaron to buy the doctor skin but aaron glares at nicky until he stops 
matt with the hamster pet bundle? yeah. friends :)
kevin buys himself the crown after a few weeks of playing and getting sucked into the game
THEIR NAMES... most of them just set it as their name but yanno, there are some exceptions.
as in: sometimes the minyards switch names. i like to think kevin has an ongoing theme of setting his name as famous astronauts. neil keeps his as ‘Enter Name’.
dan gets super fucking competitive about among us as a crewmate but as an imposter, she puts in less effort and it shows. she just prefers to be part of a team
“i saw dan vent in front of me” “yeah, i guess i did, huh?”
when aaron’s imposter, his first few kills are based purely on who has pissed him off that week. 
aaron, killing matt: this is for fucking putting your coffee mug on my notes and staining them
andrew and renee as imposters is very op. everyone just feels inclined to trust renee and andrew lies through his teeth easily. when paired together, they always win.
neil memorizes the maps and takes note of all the tasks in the different rooms so when it comes to lying about his whereabouts as an imposter, it’s always hard to tell
i feel like seth has a fuck all, every man for himself mindset both as an imposter and a crewmate. dude sees kevin’s dead body in the halls and walks right over the body without a care. 
nicky’s strategy, no matter the fact whether he’s an imposter or a crewmate is to just follow someone to freak them out. however, he doesn’t always have the best of luck when choosing who to follow as a crewmate.
matt is ASS at remembering room names so when people are listing where they were matt is just “...... the room.... with the tables?”
allison always plays on her phone so she can’t hop back and forth from app to app to mute/unmute. she always promises to stay silent but when she’s imposter, she just cannot help but let out quiet cheers when she gets a kill
one time during a session, wymack asked kevin if he could play and.. well... you can imagine how well that went
wymack watches as nicky hops into a vent and he calls an emergency meeting to ask how he can do it, outing nicky immediately. kevin bursts into laughter as soon as his dad asks that.
another time, allison killed kevin right in front of neil and matt but the two were too busy dancing together to even notice
the one time they let andrew host the room, he set the speed to max and for the entire game they were all moving too fast to even get tasks complete
also hi!! i think these additions are poggers :) 
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star-anise · 5 years
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I saw a post somewhere that mentioned you read a lot of books about the history of sailing. Do you have any recommendations? It sounds like an interesting topic but I don’t know where to start.
Loooool, this is like the fourth question I’ve gotten like this. EVERYONE wants to get into sea travel! Is it Terror? Is everyone trying to get onboard the Terror ship? (ho ho, I’m so clever) I personally do not understand the appeal, since my childhood social studies books were full of creepy illustrations emaciated sailors with enormous beards gnawing on their crewmates’ bones while the Inuit watching from the shore were like, “SURELY this is the most fucked-up thing we will ever see white people do. Right? RIGHT?!” (Spoiler: IT WAS NOT) but, yanno, it takes all kinds.
I don’t know if I’m the best person to ask for recs! Despite being 1000km from the nearest ocean, I grew up in a sailing family, going away in the summer to sailing camp and reading kids’ books about vikings and pirates and voyagers. As well as the Canadian public school education, which was very big on European maritime exploration. So I’ll try! I do tend to read historical fiction to get an individual perspective on events, and then spend lots of time diving into historical research like “Was nutmeg really that hard to get” and “what happened to Mauritius between 1806 and now”.
This is all TERRIBLY Eurocentric and honestly that’s a bit frustrating to me. Books about sea voyages written in English tend to be written by British men with beards they’re well proud of and carefully nurtured pipes who are very romantic about “the way of the sea” and very short on postcolonial analysis, so despite the fact that Europeans literally SHARE A SMALL SEA with Africa and Asia, there’s precious little use of Asian or African sources, and I’m just dying here, like, could you guys just check what contemporary Arabic accounts look like for this, pleeeeeaaaaase, and on that count I could use some recs.
So to ME, the first adult nonfiction book that felt genuinely interesting was Longitude: The True Story of a Lone Genius Who Solved the Greatest Scientific Problem of His Time by Dava Sobel. Which is a SUPER NERDY BOOK. 
And the book that primed my interest for that kind of nerdery is a deeply problematic novel, Orson Scott Card’s Pastwatch: The Redemption of Christopher Columbus. It was written as its author’s career just teetering on the brink between “deeply religious but principled man who writes thought-provoking science fiction” and “raving xenophobic nutjob” and kind of feels like he started writing it in one camp and ended up writing it in the other (there’s a character storyline that just didn’t make sense to me until I was like, “Oh right, the author is an Islamophobe”). So ON THE ONE HAND, it’s the book that really vividly illustrated, to me, the moment when Europe’s maritime traditions all pivot away from trade in the Mediterranean and into the Atlantic, which is a pretty abrupt change in the late 1400s for very specific reasons, and the enormous technical difficulty involved in making the Atlantic crossing. ON THE OTHER HAND, it’s a Mormon man trying to make his religion (which tries to say Christianity is indigenous to the Americas and that powerful white men are good) okay through the magic of handwavium and time travel. So like. You’ll learn useful things about the history of sea travel! But at what cost.
The books you probably ACTUALLY want are Patrick O’Brian’s Master and Commander books, which are a hugelong series of books about a pair of BFFs in the Napoleonic wars (1800-1815): Jack Aubrey, a bluff, hale, hearty man in His Majesty’s Navy who is very shrewd about the firing of cannons and cutting of jibs and not much else in life, and Stephen Maturin, an Irish-Catalan doctor who, embittered after every revolution he’s been part of has been brutally suppressed and/or betrayed, has turned to spycraft, laudanum, unrequited love, and keeping Jack Aubrey alive. THERE IS LOTS OF GOOD SHIP STUFF IN THERE. You learn all about charts and navigation and the constant re-rigging of sails and the Antarctic!  And it’s all deeply subtextually queer, a subtext that has been well-plumbed by generations of slash writers. If you’re into that kind of stuff.
The notable bit of European history I HAVEN’T read excessively on is the actual “Golden Age of Piracy”, 1650-1720, which is when you had Blackbeard and Captain Kidd and Anne Bonny and Mary Read. I dunno, I just… never got interested in it. But my friends who all recced Master and Commander to me seem to all be in Black Sails fandom now (it’s a TV show with lots of POC and LGBTQ+ rep) so uh, that might be worth a look too.
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gaigewrites · 6 years
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Skyelark Sample
A little section of my current work in progress! Hopefully in a few months I’ll be submitting it to publishers!
Wind whipped her dark red dreadlocks around her face, occasionally pelting her cheeks. She inhaled deeply, drinking in the slight salt tang of a long dried ocean and the smell of hot sand. She could smell the oil of her skiff and very faintly, the tin scent of her own prosthetic. Skyelark opened the throttle, guiding her skiff closer to the cargo hold of the Second Wind. Rust colored sand whipped below the small hovercraft’s thrusters, stirring up tiny dust devils.
The Second Wind loomed closer, the cargo hold’s main door slowly sliding open at her approach. The dark metal was sandblasted, obscuring the name on the hull. The bow bore battle scars from run ins with rock formations, rival ships, and errant cacti. As worn as she was, the Second Wind was home. Skyelark slowed until she was able to coast up the ramp. The door slid shut behind her with a solid bang. Overhead lights slowly flickered into life.
Skyelark leaned back, stretching out her spine as she surveyed the cargo hold. Four skiffs were moored in their docks, which left one spot open for her craft. Electromagnets guided the hovercraft into place, locking it into dock. She disembarked, throwing over cargo ties as she crossed the walkway. She was a little taken aback when no one came to greet her. That no one came to fuss over her cargo delivery. Normally there would be a small swarm of women desperate for their cut of the medicines and foods she’d bring back from port.
She tapped the communicator in her ear. There was no response. Skyelark leaned over a control panel, dialing in a command for a helper ‘bot to carry the supplies to a cooler room. The small helper bot, caught halfway between an oblong and a rectangle weaved its way up the ramp. At some point it had blown its axle and as much as she tried to fix it, the bot would power back on and run away. Jerking her chin, she pointed to the supplies in the back of her skiff.
“Take that to the kitchen. There’s another box that needs to go to the infirmary.”
The robot’s single glowing optic was focused on the pile of scrap. The dull green light reflected off of a particularly shiny panel.
“No, you don’t get new parts unless you do your bloody job.”
The robot made a little grumbling noise, its best approximation to human speech. Skyelark shifted stances, holding up her boot menacingly.
“Hurry up. If I come back and find out you didn’t do a thing I will disengage your sensors. And before you ask, yes, those sensors.”
The tiny robot engaged its energy arms, attaching magnetic like grips on the steel cargo boxes. Skyelark didn’t bother watching it. She had her pistol in hand as she made her way into the bowels of the ship. She took the corners at a good clip after a brief survey of the hallways. The monitor she kept with her at all times showed that most of the activity was on deck. She didn’t recognize a handful of biosignatures listed among the crew. Skyelark redoubled her pace, her grip deathly tight on the butt of her pistol. She took the last flight of stairs leading to the deck two at a time.
A loud bang echoed into the open air as Skyelark slammed her hand on the latch. The door smashed into the side of the wall, leaving a dent in old metal. She kept her gun level, ready to fire. A low gurgle of pain caught her attention, she spun, training her pistol on the source of the noise. Blood spattered across the deck, splashing her cheek. She cringed at the sight of a freshly gutted man hanging from the rigging. Her cringe only got worse when she made eye contact with her captain.
“It’s about bloody time you got back.”
“Erm, things going alright here, Cap’n?”
The captain turned, her lips drawn in a tight scowl. Normally the sight of her would send Skyelark’s heart fluttering, this time it just filled her gut with dread, particularly when her eyes landed on the wicked blade her captain held aloft. Skyelark quickly holstered her gun, offering up placating palms. She took a half-step back for good measure.
Skyelark risked a look at the deck. There were a few black-clad bodies littering the deck. Joanna, the quartermaster was busily pitching corpses off the side of the ship. She turned back to her captain, feeling a tight pang of guilt.
“I’m assuming there’s a reason why Yanno’s men decided to attack us today?”
“You mean aside from the obvious, right?”
“Skyelark! There had best be a damn good reason why I just had to kill a few men myself.”
Skyelark opened her mouth to reply only to have her captain gesture toward the helm. She groaned softly. The crew members on deck all stared at her, a few making snide comments. Joanna looked up from her grim duty, offering a wan smile. Skyelark envied the big woman; she never got the tail end of one of the captain’s tirades.
Lucky bitch.
The door to the bridge slammed shut in her face. Skyelark grunted in annoyance as she took her seat on a rickety metal chair. The chair was scorchingly hot; it burned her through her thick cargo pants. She had heard stories of people waiting outside headmasters’ offices and she could say she had a good idea of what it felt like. Every now and then she’d hear the soft ‘oooh’ of one of her crewmates as she waited. She told a few to piss off. At one point even Joanna came up to her. A large hand settled on her shoulder.
“If it helps, she only does this because she likes you.”
“Your idea of liking is very bizarre, Joanna.”
Joanna flashed a megawatt smile. Skyelark rolled her eyes as she idly fanned herself.
“Eh, cheer up, love. I doubt you’ll get anything worse than a stern talking-to.”
“The whole Yanno business wasn’t my fault.”
Joanna’s features darkened. Her nose wrinkled at the mention of Yanno’s name. “I know that, she knows that. Honestly, she’s probably just concerned, that’s all.”
The door opened. Skyelark uttered a soft prayer in her native tongue; it was a sailor’s prayer for safe passage. Joanna snorted, waving listlessly as she returned to her duties. Skyelark rose from her chair, hands dangling in front of her. She let out a soft sigh as she entered the bridge.
The helm was not a very large room. It held a display of wafer-thin monitors, a large wood and steel desk covered in maps, and two chairs. The wheel stood on its solemn pedestal, its surface bedecked in brass tones. The captain sat at the table, legs primly crossed. She had changed shirts and washed the blood off of her hands and face. Skyelark dropped into the chair across from her, her palms resting along her inner thighs in a very unladylike slouch.
“Before you start, can we just cut to the chase? I’d like to get some rest before my watch.”
At that point the cabin girl appeared, holding a tray. There were two cups and a teapot. She gave them both a curt nod as she set the tray on the table. The cabin girl was called Lily mostly due to her pale skin. Skyelark had long since forgotten the girl’s actual name. The captain poured them both a cup, hers in delicate china, while Skyelark was given a heavy copper mug. There were small dents from where her metal fingers warped the mug. The captain took a sip of tea. Skyelark waited for the other boot to drop.
“I would ask you what you were bloody well thinking, but I believe that is out of the question judging by the report I got from Joanna. However, I would very much like to know why in the world they decided that now was an opportune time to attack.”
“Yanno probably got real cocky again. He picked a fight with me in the bar. I shot him. He’s dead, Cap’n.”
“I’ll send someone to scour his ship later. I managed to capture some of their tech. Perhaps he had another lead?”
“Doubtful. I think he just had a burr up his--”
The captain cleared her throat. Skyelark sipped at her tea, momentarily chided. She took a moment to sneak a peek at her captain. The captain had a girlish face and thick, curly black hair. A jagged scar ran across her right cheek, but it gave her face a little more character. Skyelark refused to admit that she was quite smitten.
“So he just wanted revenge?”
“My best guess, Cap’n.”
“You can stop calling me captain all the time. You’ve known me five years now, you may as well call me Amelia.”
“I don’t want the other girls thinkin’ I’m gettin’ too familiar with you.”
Amelia rolled her eyes. She brushed her jet black bangs out of her eyes, squinting as she surveyed Skyelark’s face.
“As if they don’t already talk about how many times I’ve had to pull you aside for your nonsense.”
“Err…” Skyelark broke eye contact, smiling guiltily. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks.
“Exactly. Now fill me in on what happened in town. Were you able to gather everything I sent you for?”
“Got all the supplies, ca-- Amelia. Picked Yanno’s hopper dry. I might finally be able to get the spare up to snuff.”
“Any news from the town?”
“Nothing to really report. The apothecarist thought I was a man, the old bastard. Beer’s piss water. And there is neither a brothel nor a scrapyard.”
“How did he mistake you of all people for a man?”
Skyelark glanced down at her leather vest. It concealed her chest a little, but not enough to hide the rather obvious fact that she was a woman.
“Guess he never saw a real woman before.”
“What is it that you say? ‘A good handful is more than enough’?”
Skyelark snorted. She wasn’t entirely sure where Amelia heard her say that, but it was obvious she had at some point. She held up her palms, frowning down at her chest.
“Well, for you they’d be a good fit.”
Amelia snorted into her teacup. She fumbled on her desk until she got her hands on handkerchief. She mopped up the mess with a few precise swipes. Once she was content with her work, she held up her hand, gesturing for Skyelark to do the same. Skyelark let Amelia press their hands together. Despite their mere three inch height gap, Skyelark could almost wrap the tips of her fingers over her captain’s.
“Well it’s because you have such bloody big man hands.”
“You didn’t deny that they’d be a good fit.”
Amelia pulled her palm away. Skyelark had a hard time not smiling when she rolled her eyes.
“You’re only fiesty because two of your favourite hobbies were out.”
“I have other hobbies.”
“The last time I loaned you a book, you threw it on my desk complaining that the best character died and you sulked for a week.”
“It was only two days.”
“Honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”
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