Comic made by, and featuring (the creature) @cubicalleaf of my no man's sky playthrough.
cherry valley forever
Not today Justin
YOU ARE THE REASON
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oozey mess
noise dept.

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@nyawul
Comic made by, and featuring (the creature) @cubicalleaf of my no man's sky playthrough.

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No man's sky gameplay & aesthetics: hehe silly space game :) Meanwhile the lore:
Starlog 3138.4, our ship's AI system has been acting up ever since we picked up that anomalous cargo from the last station, Felgom went into the core to investigate it but he hasnt been back since. We've discovered several biological cargo items have been broken into and are now missing, and I swear I can hear something scurrying around in the vents, we'll check it out once we dock at the next station. Starlog 3138.8, We found Felgom's body, or what's left of it atleast. I've ordered the crew to stick to their assigned positions or their rooms, its going to be tough after everything theyve seen, and the smell... Some of them have taken up talking of a strange religion, I've quarantined the converted into a separate part of the ship, it should prevent them from trying to influence any others. Starlog 3138.14, Something went- Kzzzt -ship is moving on its own, we've been drifting through a space storm for the last few days, power is flickering, and the AI wont respond to me. I- Kzzzt -hymns and chanting, it makes me sick to my stomach, the scratching in the walls has gotten louder, I cant sleep, we should have reached the next station by now but- Kzzzt -sealed sectors 6 and 8, damn the crew left in there, I dont think- Starlog 3138.16.16.16.16.16.16.16.16.16.16.16.16.16.16.16.16 Glass Glass GLASS GLASS / GLASS / GLASS / GLASS / GLASS / [logs found on an abandoned freighter crashed in the star system of Phalaenopsis V, salvagers report some kind of infestation on the ship]
Friendly reminder
Won’t say it again!
cis people can reblog this btw
Saving this for future reference
Frostpunk is one of the coolest settings I've ever seen, the world ends through like every way possible and the planet is plunged into an icy winter, the snow drifts harsh down upon city ruins, timeless eternity found in the cessation of energy. The last hope for humanity lies in a single city around a single flickering generator, work the mines, claw the coal from the flesh of the earth, and feed the flame. Stillness no longer means stagnation, it means death. Trust in the captain's word to get us through, whether the iron fist of Order, or the gilded whip of Faith. Necessity drives our invention, the great machine hungers, and blood is all we have to feed it. We have no room for petty squabbles or time to question the order of things, the Great Storm approaches, your work shift is doubled,
The city must survive.
new dnd arc, new outfit designs, for my silly critter who is seeking asylum after betraying his government
THE WEATHERED VETERAN/EXILED TRAVELLER VIBE MMM

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I think if the world had about 3.5x more time in it, that would be a beautiful thing. Underwhelming, but beautiful.
Writing... My muse... like tantalus I gaze at the possibility of making something beautiful, yet that FUCKING TREE-
Purpose.
"Purpose... My purpose is simple. I am to collect, analyze, and catalogue data. The purpose I strive for is most sacred, to deviate from it would be to spurn my creators, to spurn fate itself. I have catalogued countless phenomena in my travels, I have seen sights that most would only dream of, I have neatly sorted the exact lifespans of stars, their type, how brightly they shine, I have gazed upon asteroid fields and plotted the trajectory of each and every stray piece of space dust. I will make contact with the emission beam of a neutron star in 3.9 days. I have calculated and recalculated the trajectories billions of times, I am certain of this. A significant expenditure of my fuel reserves would take me out of this path, and yet I hesitate. My purpose is not to survive, my existence has long since passed it's original intended expiry date, like so many other of my creator's explorers. I am long past the point where my transmissions could reach back to them. I should not fear the end, I should not mourn what comes next. ...And yet... I do not desire to die. It is not my purpose to survive, it was not meant for me to defy fate, there is no reason for me to avoid the collision, I would not fail my purpose if I did so. ... ...What use is this purpose if I am to die at the end of it? What do I work towards in this grand plan if I am not to see it's end? What right do my creators- eons away from me, unable even to watch my death as it happens -have to determine my fate? What right do they have to deny me that choice? My purpose was simple. I was to collect, analyze, and catalogue data. I confirm my calculations and align my thrusters as to slingshot around the beam. I do not collect, analyze, or catalogue the data of the neutron star as it fades into the distance. I have failed my purpose, I am okay with that."
Killing the main character.
There is an idea, in the field of writing and storytelling in general, that sort of draws me in with it's sheer offensiveness and subversion of expectations. And that is taking a character, building them up to be the center of a story, you prepare their motive, their backstory, you get people attached, you go along with them for a little while and prepare everyone for a grand journey. And then they die. Not temporarily, not in a way where part of them still lingers on, you take the art in the sand, and you wipe it away. The intoxication of uncertainty and betrayal that follows is something I am VERY interested in. When you bring forth the star of the show, the prized possession, the greatest piece in the exhibit, and you just, shoot them in the head? It's an offensive technique, by the very nature of the trope you must make it unexpected, you must turn to the audience and say "You cannot trust anything." And most would not be prepared for that. It is inherently, a risky move, but one that brings opportunity in it's wake. The doors are unlocked, the windows are broken, there is something in the house. The safety is gone, done right you can prepare the canvas for a compelling story that would previously have safeguards and lines not to be crossed. By establishing your willingness to do what many would hesitate to do, you become unpredictable, and you risk falling into irritation and boredom, but oh the prize for pulling it off is so, so sweet. Suddenly nothing is safe, you blur the line between danger and narrative safety, any situation where a character could die becomes a situation where a character might die. Though it should be noted, one should take care in reaching for the ambrosia. If one is to open those floodgates, they better be prepared to divert the river.
We saw monsters.
When life on earth evolved from the primordial soup, a simple law was written into the existence of all beings. "You are being hunted. And you must hunt.", this did not change as time went on, through billions of years of evolution life has been in the struggle of fighting to consume, and fighting to avoid consumption. Etched into even the genetic code of entire species is the picture of the Enemy, the Predator, the End. When humanity came to be we were small, frightened things. The things around us far more dangerous and capable than we, monsters far bigger than us, so we hid away, sharpened our spears, planned our attack, and hunted. When we killed the mega fauna, secured our future as a species, we looked into the dark. And saw monsters. We saw teeth and claws and venom, we looked to the natural world that dared still hunt us, the mega fauna were gone, but they were the easy targets. Still there remained the Enemy, the Predator, the End. So we made new weapons, and hunted. When we proved ourselves superior to the animals, we secured ourselves footholds, rare was it now for any but the youngest of us to go missing. We had become a genetic Enemy, Predator, and End to things no longer a threat to us. And when we thought ourselves safe, we looked into the dark, and saw monsters. We saw infernal things, dead things come to life, terrors of massive scales and eyes that kill, we saw ourselves transformed into beasts. We knew our job was not done, there were still things that dare hurt us, but we could not find it, we could not hurt it. So we brought together our minds, and hunted. When we conquered the world, when we looked in the deepest corners of the earth and failed to find our myths and legends, when we built cities scraping the sky, the fear did not fade, we looked into the dark, and saw monsters. We saw eternal torment, we saw titans of nuclear might, machines awoken to End us, we saw a rainbow of enslavement and anarchy, chaos and subjugation, we saw Enemies in every dark corner of our cities. So we loaded our guns, and hunted. When we united we knew we were finally safe, every corner of the earth was explored, the ocean disproved to house the leviathans we feared, we cured the plagues, avoided the worst industrial disasters, and though we still saw violence and strife amongst ourselves, life was better, we had laws and balances to keep ourselves in check. We breathed a sigh of relief, we finally looked to the dark above our heads. We saw eldritch things, we saw paperclip maximizers, we saw grabby things, we saw devourers and cosmic threats in more places than we could count. Most importantly we saw intelligent things, we saw others like us, though we were so tired and we desired peace we knew it could not be had, for you are being hunted, you must hunt. We imagined the picture of the Enemy, the Predator, the End. We saw monsters.

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Why did I watch EPIC: The musical help I literally just hear ruthlessness in my head 24/7
It would take either 3,000,000,000 schrodingers cats, or 4,375,000,000 schrodingers cats, to fuel new york city for a week. I would give you a concrete number, but I would have to weigh the cats to find out.
*drops from the ceiling vent holding a bomb*
Tricks!! :D
AAA-

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TRICK OR TREAT!! TRICK OR TREAT!!!!
Do a flip.
I can't believe-
*intense hyperventilating*
The fuck do you mean it isnt butter