I'm just going to say that I agree 120% with what was said about empathy and respect for the new cultures that are gonna be add to the server. But I think it's also good to clarify that this goes both ways. We are all going to be exposed to new things and we have to let our guard down a little to try to understand each other.
It always comes down to empathy and respect. Members and communities that are currently involved with the server can screw up without even realizing it, just as new members can screw up. We are humans. The thing is to take a deep breath and, as long as there is no bad intention behind it, talk about things like adults. With patience and empathy.
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the worst trait of me and my family is probably this: we never learned to say the word sorry.
i) my best friend and i, we are no people. knives? maybe. liars? definitely. but people? i’m not so sure.
knives were never forged to be tender (what a shame, what a shame) and we too, fall and slay what we meant to protect. him and i, we go for the throat when we clash. we hurt and bleed and oh, i should be terrified, i should be running for my life, but all i am is tired and a bit lonely and would really like his arms around me.
( “can we please stop fighting now.”
“oh god yes please.”)
because time and time again, this man has held my heart in his hands and cleaned its festering wounds with cotton dipped in alcohol (always the healer, always the lover) and wrapped gauze around them with clinical precision. and i have walked through the maze of his head and tended to his withering garden, have dragged the sun and fresh air and all the oceans to the barren land to make it bloom (always the poet, always the lover).
him and i, we have never needed words because we are knives forged in the same fire and at the end of the day, we both know that he will be the one who wordlessly stitches my broken heart and i will be the one who sings him to sleep.
ii) let me paint you a picture:
blue that fades into red that fades into black that fades into blue that fades into red. loud, clashing and nonsensical. a pit in your stomach that was dug with desperation and blunt fingernails. how do you colour anger that is also pain, grief, hate, love, fear and truth? the smell of the paint is foul and clogs your windpipes. blunt fingernails and blue and black and madness. can you bear to look at what you created without flinching?
that’s what anger looks like on my father. a horror. a mottled bruise. a hellfire.
all his life, my father has been scorned, belittled, beaten, spat on. his mother didn’t love him right because her mother didn’t love her right. my dad loves like he hates. something is fucked in his head and heart and his words fade into black and blue and red and this shitshow always ends with me sobbing, bleeding, dying on the floor. my father watches with his hackles raised and his eyes red and wide and glowing. once wounded, an animal never sheathes its claws. it strikes the ones it loves and walks away with its head held high and hands trembling.
but here’s what happens when the curtains close: he pulls me into his arms and brings me tea. he wipes away my tears with hands that has moved mountains to make me smile. he kisses my forehead and tells me that his mom didn’t love him right. my grief is like anger and indignation and love. i wrap my arms around him and cry all the tears he never had the luxury to. who should say sorry, really? is it him or his mom or his mom’s mom or this stupid fucking world? my father has never said the word sorry. he never needed to. this is what love looks like on us. a horror. a mottled bruise. a hellfire.
iii) despite it all, i am not usually an angry person. i take after my father and my mother, after all. i rage like my mother (quick, loud, fire that burns out almost as quickly as it sparked to life) and fight like my father (aim, shoot, bullseye). my sister does something even mildly upsetting and before i know it, i’m cursing her to be miserable till she dies. not even an hour later i’m draping myself over her shoulder and bugging her till she rolls her eyes and smiles ever so slightly.
(“do you have no shame?”
“yeah no i don’t think so.”)
my family and i, we never learned to say the word sorry. because the word sorry never meant sorry, not to us. because at the end of the day, that’s all it is: a word. and it sticks to the back of my tongue and the dents of my molars and gets tangled in my mouth when i try to spit it out. so i grab it by its throat and thread it into my being. i find it so much easier to hide my pathetic inability to do one thing that doesn’t scream that there's something wrong with me with the truth of another three words:
“i love you”
and they are always echoed back to me, just a few million times more tender, in ways only we can understand.
“yeah, i know.”
“that’s great, but there’s no escaping dishes duty.”
“oh, shut up, you.”
“what’s that for?”
a pause and a hum.
“i love you too.”
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If the Young Wolf officiated Crucible matches, I think their voicelines would be a mix between Gambit and Iron Banner (oof whiplash for the people used to Shaxx screaming encouragement. They get a significantly quieter handler they probably thought was a myth)
Like. It'd be smooth and have references to their accomplishments and your Class (Hold the line, Titan. Let them break on your shield.)
But also a darker tone ("They've fucked up." if you get heavy ammo, uncontested, or a simple "Let them run.") and a mixture of jokes/puns and ominous stuff based on subclass when you cast a super ("String em up, Hunter" if you're Threadrunner/"Heaven's heading to war" if you're a Dawnblade)
They'd definitely still get excited on a kill streak/ending one (They’re fighting over rubble until they get out of your way!)
Maybe if you got the We Ran Out Of Medals, they'd say something like "Now you're a queen/king I'd bow to" (i cannot forget when Mara expected them to bow and then gave up on it, back in Lost. i died)
I think they'd speak sort of like Saladin, but with a lighter tone (most times), and an audible smirk like Drifter.
Other lines I liked but left out:
You think I stayed under when Xol buried me? Get up and fight. (your team mercy'd)
Even Ghaul fell. (end someone's 20 killstreak)
Make 'em regret standing up to you. (match start)
Leave 'em in the grave they dug for you (1v3 elimination/survival)
I pity them. They think they've won (enemy nearing victory)
I'll tell the Witness you'll be coming back for more (enemy team mercy'd)
The Cold remembers their mistakes. (Revenant super cast. that blizzard is an actual nightmare)
What doesn’t kill you, better run! (killstreak)
Outstranding jo- Shaxx! (followed by the comm cutting. I just thought them being banned from puns is funny. Rare line, set after match won)
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Honestly, it would be hilarious if the only thing separating Ninjago United as a "totally new show, definatly it's own, seperate thing, same characters, same animation, same continuity, but trust me bro it's different-"
Is a return to a 20 minute format...
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after grinding to get through most of the princess rose event i have planted an idea in my mind that will Not leave me alone.
i was fully expecting asmo to be good at fashion, but when he said he needed help from levi for the dame outfits my brain kinda melted.(note: the brain melting part might just be me being tired after job)
now it is canon to me and me alone that when mc needs to go shopping for a killer outfit, the three brothers who are going with them are going to be asmo, levi, and mammon.
asmo is the obvious choice bc duh, but it's easy to forgot that levi does god-tier cosplays and mammon is a famous model.
now imagine all three of them collaborating to dress up mc for an event
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spoilers for tbosas ahead
the thing that makes me so sick about songbirds and snakes is that throughout the hunger games portion of the book snow is just riddled with this jealousy and fear that sejanus is going to usurp him and take his place like some kind of imposter when in reality sejanus has no intent to do anything of the sort he is literally just trying to survive and navigate his newfound batshit circumstances in which he finds himself surrounded by some evil ass people
and then in the end it’s snow that ends up sliding neatly into the gap that sejanus’s death left. snow is the one who basically became the plinth’s foster son (for lack of a better term) even after he was indirectly (or, let’s be real, definitely directly) responsible for sejanus being hanged in the first place. and i don’t think he even planned for things to happen that way, but when the opportunity arose he just didn’t even see anything ironic or wrong or fucked up about that. he was just like “neato” and became a dictator
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