Ok you know what I really appreciate about Redwall, aside from all the other things?
The fact that from the very beginning, the women were warriors too.
I mean sure, not the abbey beasts so much, but even in Redwall, two of the biggest toughest creatures in the abbey, Winifred and Constance, both women.
And within the Guosim, women.
And then in Mossflower, he could have had only male hares be warriors at Salamandastron, but he didn’t! He gave us three pretty, but equally deadly icons and some others.
The otters crews are always a mix of males and females, and nowhere is it implied that the female warriors are anything lesser than the males, except sometimes by the villains (and when they introduced order sexism for plot reasons in High Rhulain)
But it was the 80s and he so easily could have done something different and he didn’t and I love him for it
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I’m bored so here’s all the cars that I think rainbow 6 operators will drive solely based on vibes.
Some of this is based on stuff me and my BF came up with a while ago.
First off some characters have canonical vehicles so they won’t be considered except for Mozzie and he would drive a big family van when not using his motorcycle.
Doc:
He would drive some sort of BMW from the mid 90s. Because he has money, he would do a ton of upkeep and have the same car forever, but bought it new the year it came out.
He would never let anyone accept a select few people (Monty, lion, jager, maybe bandit) drive it and the car would always be absolutely spotless. It would be a fancy BMW sports car something like this:
Thermite:
In my mind, he drives two different vehicles. One is a work vehicle that he drives when doing rainbow or FBI business. The other is his personal vehicle that he leaves at home in Texas.
The work vehicle would be something like a Nissan versa or a Hyundai Elantra or some other similar car.
His personal car, would be an old janky Ford pickup truck.
Tachanka:
Like everything else about Sasha his car is old and Soviet. The entire interior lining is absolutely bedazzled with Russian Orthodox icons to the point where if he got in an accident, the flying projectile would be the most dangerous part.
The bottom would be rusted out and have a panel screwed on, the chairs have all been reupholstered in some sort of strange fabric. It’s just odd and eclectic like him and probably looks something like this:
Maestro:
This one is mostly for giggles, but imagining a large Italian man driving this car is very funny to me. It also does make sense with his background coming from a more disadvantage youth he wouldn’t drive something super new and this car is old and reliable and Italian just like its owner. The A112 everyone:
I will add more as I think of them, but these four make the most sense in my mind.
Mustang was very brave to build his team with a chronically-single french man, a guy who was born for IT in a world without, a guy who's definitely from their equivalent of New York, two orphans that are homeless by choice, his not-wife that he has a suicide pact with, and Vato Falman
Al and Ed's dynamic is so funny bc Edward's got such a complex about being the older one even tho the difference is by one year and he thinks himself a single mother of one raising Al by himself and he needs to protect his little baby brother at all costs then Alphonse is like holding Ed's leash and telling him no when he barks/lunges at passers-by and is making sure he gets his rabies shots and doesn't die doing something stupid also protecting him at all costs etc
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it's so fucking funny watching one of the earliest backstory reveals in campaign 2 which is yasha revealing that she's from xhorhas. you'd think by the way the nein reacted that she said she killed her whole family. meanwhile mr. fake accent is hiding an evil pact to snea snake. pop pop fucked off from the cobalt soul without telling anyone and zeenoth had to track her down. wizard hobo is on the run from the magical fbi. the goblin is actually a halfling. blue tiefling is wanted in her own home city. purple tiefling changes his backstory every town they enter. but yasha being a foreigner in the empire is such a shock to them. they're so fucking ridiculous i adore them so much. i'd like to submit the entire cast of the mighty nein to the acting categories of the oscars please. goddamn pathological liars the lot of them
My bf keeps sending me helldivers propaganda posters, so here is my addition.
As usual there’s a touch of history here: in World War II paratroopers were reminded to sign life insurance policies before they jumped so that their family would get $10,000 should they die.
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This is my first time writing for these guys and this is kinda an au. I’m not totally sure how to characterize Woods I’m sorry if he’s a little bit off. I thought up the first paragraph late last night, and it turned into this.
“A study of Alex Mason as seen through his house (aka Alex is unfortunately kinda unwell bc therapy wasn’t a thing back then.)”
~~~
The cheapest thing for Frank Woods to do was share a house. He might say “something, something, bad economy” or “soldier’s salary” but he wasn’t unhappy sharing a mortgage with his battle buddy, a kid, and whatever ghosts Mason might conjure up.
The thing he would be complaining about was the cold, because of course a man who survived a Russian gulag would want to go back to his home town in freezing Anchorage, Alaska. It was so sparse there, Woods internally compared it to a gulag but would never say that out loud. His complaints as he stepped off a train, were quickly silenced when a short bundle of coats and scarves rammed into his stomach with a cry of “Uncle Frank!” He returned the hug and looked up to see the older Mason walking towards him.
“Good to see you Frank,” Alex held out his hand, but Woods said screw it and pulled his friend into a hug, creating a David sandwich. “I hope the journey didn’t give you too much trouble.”
“Any travel that isn’t funded by the United States Military is a dream, but I think if I stay here too long I’ll forget what my toes feel like.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Mason smiled. “And don’t worry we heat the houses really well here, your toes will be back in no time.”
With that they were off to Alex’s car. The drive was pretty, if a landscape frankly drowned in snow could be called pretty. David chatted to Frank the whole drive, giving his father a chance to focus on driving safely on slick roads. When they got to the small house, Alex dropped David and Frank off at the front door and pulled around back to park the car.
Walking in the front door, Frank could almost immediately see small signs of Alex’s “quirks” gained in Vortuka, the CIA, and the United States Marine Corps. Although David had unlocked the door with a single key, there was also a deadlock and a chain lock on the inside of the front door. As he was led to his room, he saw things that could be classified as weapons in each corner, a fire poker here, a baseball bat there. Passing through the living room there were pillows and blankets on the couch, as well as a few empty beer bottles on the side table. Every window, including the one in his room, had a lock as did every door.
He heard Alex come in downstairs, and David ran off to talk to his father, leaving Frank alone on the second floor. Moving to follow, Woods passed Alex’s room. Giving into his curiosity he looked inside. The queen sized bed was unmade, the blankets all shoved to the bottom. Under it Frank could see the end of a military storage case and a gun locker stood in the far corner. Next to the bed one nightstand had an alarm clock, dog tags (Alex’s), and a book. The other had a much more feminine look, a pretty lamp, a dish with jewelry, and a small Bible adorned the top of it. That bedside table was covered in a thick layer of dust.
A minute later downstairs, in the living room, as Alex was cleaning up his bed on the couch, making dinner suggestions, and getting them shot down by David, Frank took a closer look at the mantle and the picture hung around the room. A few metals were on display (Frank knew where each one came from) as well as a few family pictures. There was one of Alex looking overwhelmed and happy holding a newborn David, several more of David throughout the years doing different things his parents thought should be documented. There were a few pictures of Alex as a child (this had been his parents home) as well as a few from early military service.
Frank smiled when he saw some of him and Mason together in ‘Nam and other places they had been deployed. He flipped off a picture that included Hudson. Looking closer at the ones he knew were post Vortuka, he could see the “look” in Mason’s eyes. He wondered how he’d downplayed it so much when they had been in it, when in every photo, smiling or not, Alex’s eyes had an oddly vacant or distracted look. Then again, ‘Nam was pretty rough, so he could have some grace in not noticing how much his friend was really there.
In the middle of the mantle was a picture shoved behind the rest and covered in dust; from what Frank could see it was a family photo of Alex, his wife, and toddler David. Next to that was a picture laying face down. Frank gently lifted it to see a wedding photo, written across the bottom in silver ink it said, “the beginning of the best days of our life, -with all my love, Amelia”. In the picture Alex and Amelia were posed under an arch of roses, looking happy as can be. Frank guessed the spots where pictures were missing or turned face down, were ones of Amelia Mason, the grief of her loss being pushed away instead of processed. Frank couldn’t fault his friend for that, he was pretty shoddy at processing grief as well.
Finally, Alex came up with a meal plan that David was satisfied with, and the three of them went into the kitchen to make it together. David had demanded that Uncle Frank had to help, and he couldn’t deny the 11 year old. In the kitchen, Woods could see other signs that Amelia had once lived here. The kitchen was furnished with every amenity a housewife would want, down to the teal toaster oven. He was pulled from his thoughts about the matching refrigerator, when something hit him in the face. He looked from the flowery apron that had just hit him to Alex who was grinning widely at him.
“Come on Frank, Vik’s not in that corner, and you gotta help us cook,” The twinkle in his eye told Frank he was joking about the Russian.
“Let’s hope he’s not in any corner,” the GI pulled the garish apron on and set to work helping make dinner.
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Re watching Generation Kill and that bit where Ray is going on about if terrorist got laid they wouldn’t want it go to war reminded me of a funny conversation I had with a roommate.
I was playing a counter terrorist game and she was asking about it and eating ice cream. She said that if we gave all the terrorist ice cream they wouldn’t be bad anymore.
