Petter's Blog

but they included a whole section on inclusivity in games (fine) and why you should be inclusive of women and queer/trans people and race and religion and etc.

and then went "context matters" and then said that, for example, if your game is about people in the military, rules for wheelchair-accessible combat would break the suspension of disbelief, especially if the setting has fancy sci-fi technology to "correct" disability.

and like, context does matter, but also. hey. c'mon.

why is "obviously, nobody in this setting is using a wheelchair" your special example of a bridge too far? wheelchairs are technology just like everything else you listed. they just don't delete the difference from a person's body. and they're not a badass prosthetic.

also, I'm trying to avoid quoting because, again, I do not want to put this person on blast, they put good game design advice on the internet for free, but the specific example of unreasonable inclusion was

obviously, nobody expects "wheelchair-accessible HALO jumps or SCUBA infiltrations"

(HALO jumps are basically extreme skydiving)

hey, my friend? look at those two activities again. what do you notice about them?

wheelchair users are skydiving and doing SCUBA diving today. no science fiction involved. your two examples of activities that make it impossible for someone in the distant sci-fi future to be a soldier in a wheelchair would be possible for many wheelchair users literally today.

a little closer

perfect

Hey Handlers, former Hound speaking. I know you asshole hate fun and snacks, but considering I just finished pasting a bunch of fuckheads who refused to feed their Hounds basic MREs and only used The Paste, I'm making this as a way to save you from your own stupidity. Let your Hounds snack, it's good for the mind and keeps them happy. And no, a single almond does not count as a snack, don't be a suburbanite beige mom with an eating disorder. Without further ado, here's the best fuckin snacks for your freaky beasties when they get hungry:

Jerky. I've ranted about it before, and I'll say it again. High protein, stimulating to eat, works the jaw to prevent the muscles from weakening, it's great! Honorable mention goes to any kind of cured meats that are shelf stable and snackable during flights, especially shoutout to pemmican for being versatile very versatile.

Trail Mix. A classic for a reason, customize it for each of your Hounds' tastes for an even better response! Trust me, making it by purchasing bulk ingredients saves you money in the long term. Also, for further brain stimulation, you can have the Hounds pack their own snack bags for missions, with supervision of course.

Peanut-Butter Pretzel Bites. I don't know what mad bitch thought of these things, but HOLY FUCK! These are a personal favorite, rivaling jerky depending on how drunk I am. Have these on a mission or off mission, and they're perfect. Goes great with beer and/or sports drinks.

Tuna+Crackers snack packs. Ok these are my absolute favourite, specifically the chili ones with an actual pepper inside. Slice some cheese up to go with them, and they're a perfect late-night snack. They do smell quite strong, but frankly, you've probably smelled worse in the kennels or Handler breakroom. Honorable mention to tinned herring fillets, delicious.

Instant hotpots. Ok, don't give these to the lobotomite Hounds, or they will make a mess. However, if you've got a Hound on a long deployment, pack a few of these alongside the normal MREs. They taste great, they've got lots of meat and veg, and they get just as hot if not hotter than the MREs. Praise be water-activated heating packs, my beloveds.

Bread. Deadass just some bread. Doesn't even need to be garlic bread, just some proper fuckin rolls and an optional spread to go with it. No notes, bread just good.

Hardboiled eggs, with optional mayo. Alternatively, just a tub of egg salad with a spoon. Godddd this shit is good when you're craving eggs and want to egg-max. I just typically put mayo on the eggs between bits and make egg salad in my mouth, because I'm a disgusting little freak. Deviled Eggs are my absolute favourite of this, and I will be bribed any day by those, because they aren't my favourite snack food, but instead one of my favourite buffet items. Yes I have multiple conditional lists, I'm a foodie.

A jar of pickles. Yes, I'm not joking, if your Hound was something tangy when piloting and you don't mind the cockpit smelling briny, give them a jar of pickles. The large gherkins are the best, and chugging a cold jar of pickle juice hits better than a sports drink I find... fuck one sec I have a jar in my fridge I need to go deal with...

Not the expensive luxury kind, the kind of slimy, cheap kind you get in tubes.

Imagine with me for a bit. The empire (or megacorps, pick your poison) has a whole military-industrial complex while the rebels have whatever they can scrape together, and even if the rebellion has more support they can't and won't throw away lives like the empire does (because they are in fact heroic, if flawed). Outgunned and outnumbered in every fight, the only way they stand a chance is if their pilots massively outskill the enemy.

That kind of skill doesn't come cheap, but the rebels scrounge up all the ingredients. A brilliant doctor, blacklisted for her radical ideas about bodily autonomy. Body modifications originally developed to help disabled people, discarded by the corporations as a waste of money. Martial traditions from cultures the empire tried to wipe out. And volunteer pilots emotionally connected to their mechs, willing to give everything so others can live freely, or just so damaged they've got nothing left to lose.

It works. These enhanced pilots have faster reactions, sharper awareness, better instincts, stronger morale, higher mech compatibility. The enemy can't keep up, the process is too personal for mass-produced grunts and too grueling for nepo-baby officers.

But the price is higher than the rebels realized: These pilots - no, hounds - forget how to be human. The exact symptoms vary, but it usually involves severe anxiety or depression, impaired social skills, difficulty making non-combat decisions, self-worth becoming dependent on performing well, trouble controlling aggression, and a tendency to get very attached to specific people (and if you like your mechsplo extra horny, feminization in "male" pilots and increased libido in all pilots).

And so they need handlers, people who'll accept how attached they get, speak for them to others, make decisions for them outside of combat, praise and encourage their hard work, and discipline their aggression even if it means keeping them muzzled on a leash (and also satisfy their sexual needs). Often the hound will latch onto someone they already had a bond with like a lover, dear friend, teammate or trusted officer.

Imagine with me for a bit. The empire (or megacorps, pick your poison) has a whole military-industrial complex while the rebels have whatever they can scrape together, and even if the rebellion has more support they can't and won't throw away lives like the empire does (because they are in fact heroic, if flawed). Outgunned and outnumbered in every fight, the only way they stand a chance is if their pilots massively outskill the enemy.

That kind of skill doesn't come cheap, but the rebels scrounge up all the ingredients. A brilliant doctor, blacklisted for her radical ideas about bodily autonomy. Body modifications originally developed to help disabled people, discarded by the corporations as a waste of money. Martial traditions from cultures the empire tried to wipe out. And volunteer pilots emotionally connected to their mechs, willing to give everything so others can live freely, or just so damaged they've got nothing left to lose.

It works. These enhanced pilots have faster reactions, sharper awareness, better instincts, stronger morale, higher mech compatibility. The enemy can't keep up, the process is too personal for mass-produced grunts and too grueling for nepo-baby officers.

But the price is higher than the rebels realized: These pilots - no, hounds - forget how to be human. The exact symptoms vary, but it usually involves severe anxiety or depression, impaired social skills, difficulty making non-combat decisions, self-worth becoming dependent on performing well, trouble controlling aggression, and a tendency to get very attached to specific people (and if you like your mechsplo extra horny, feminization in "male" pilots and increased libido in all pilots).

And so they need handlers, people who'll accept how attached they get, speak for them to others, make decisions for them outside of combat, praise and encourage their hard work, and discipline their aggression even if it means keeping them muzzled on a leash (and also satisfy their sexual needs). Often the hound will latch onto someone they already had a bond with like a lover, dear friend, teammate or trusted officer.

Like it's my understanding that the timeline diverges from our own after WW2, with the United States entering a golden atomic age driven by relentless xenophobic and expansionist conquest, plunging the world into a fascistic death spiral that lead to the resource wars and nuclear armageddon. And to deliver that bleak premise with a satirical edge, it's canonical that American culture is, at least by the 2070s when the world ends, stuck in a sort of neo 50s obsession where the only music and art that's popular enough to survive the nukes is all stuff that originated more than a century beforehand.

Like I get that the criticism being made is that a culture obsessed with its own past is indicative of a bleak present crushed by imperialism and nationalism, but can you really expect me to believe that Fallout's American empire was so bad that culture and art and aesthetics were just. Frozen in time for more than 100 years? Addicted to their own past? That the American people were so embroiled in reactionary ideologies that they were incapable of moving forward and creating anything new?

Anyway did you hear they're rebooting Malcolm in the Middle this year? And the Mummy. And the Devil Wears Prada. And Masters of the Universe. And Meet the Parents. And a 5th toy story movie. And a moana remake.

“Alright, enough, I’m going to be late for work”

Here. This is the most valuable card the Lady owns. These paltry images do not do it justice, but the front even bears a holographic quality where Miss Sonya and Miss Tanya do battle. This one hopes you may share the wealth!

I've received a handful of commissions to draw people's pets and monks but this is definitely my favorite one so far