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YOU ARE THE REASON
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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@carbonfcrged-archived
@intcthatgoodnight / luke sent a meme.
❛ You will witness what happens here today, and you will tell of it later. ❜
“Hate to ruin the moment, pal, but before you get your hopes up you should know I’ve seen enough of civilizations falling and martyrs doing what it is they do so if you’re looking for some prophet to carry your words into the far reaches of the stars ---?” A scabbed brow pinched upwards, a loose shake of the head following. “You got the wrong guy.”
@kalvaertar gets a starter.
“The instinct of violence curls inside us like a parasite, waiting for a chance to feed on our rage and multiply until it bursts out of us.”
@epeolxtry / elektra gets a starter.
“When everyone lies, telling the truth isn’t just rebellion. It’s an act of revolution. So think carefully when you speak it, because the truth is a weapon.”
@intcthatgoodnight / tony gets a starter.
“ We tell ourselves this is progress. Selling each other the fruits of our destruction. “
@deathfound gets a starter.
“Death isn’t only about the destruction of the body. Sometimes, just like that, you extinguish one self and another is born. But every birth is violent and there’s no death without pain. “
@stormskinned gets a starter.
“Some people just need killing.”
@chokethelight / ultron gets a starter.
“The danger of living too many times? You forget to fear death.”
@wanderingguest / steve gets a starter.
“Time is the greatest of all warriors. What it doesn’t destroy, it alters beyond recognition. Technology advances, but humans don’t. We’re smart monkeys, and what we want is always the same. Food, shelter, sex, and in all its forms, escape.”
@magicandsciencemuses gets a starter for muse of choice.
“What we believe shapes who we are. Belief can bring us salvation or destruction. But when you believe a lie for too long, the truth doesn’t set you free. It tears you apart.”
@sanguisfulgur / theo gets an ac starter.
It’d taken time and resources that he didn’t have to spare to get it done -- as much as he loved the idea of taking down two Meths with one stone (especially when said stone was being paid for out of one of their very deep pockets) -- he didn’t have the time he wanted to spend on cracking open the stack he’d been entrusted with, in a roundabout fashion, by his sleeve’s predecessor. Just how many rabbit holes was this Ryker going to get him dragged down, anyways? He was all for rebelling against the hierarchy, but he had enough on his plate dealing with Bancroft’s mess than dealing with all the people that seemed to want Ryker dead and buried. It was getting difficult to keep the reasons straight at this point, even for him. Being a crooked cop. Not being a crooked enough cop. Banging the wrong person’s girl.
And somewhere in all that mess there seemed to be people wanting to pick him off for his own sake. Funny how a few hundred years on ice didn’t really seem to kill as many grudges as he’d have thought.
Here and now, though, he had the benefit of time. Time worked the way he wanted it to, in the virtual world. Money had bought him what he couldn’t manage on his own: a secure off the grid location in the real world to store the stack, an array that would let him control the narrative and the most expensive of the tools. Someone with the right combination of skill level to crack the Meth’s stack and low enough morals to do it for the money Takeshi had to offer... without said morals being so low that they’d just turn around and sell him back out to the Meth in question.
All because of a pretty face.
The construct was simple enough to start with. Blank walls, blank hallways, empty doorways, white on white on white that stretched on endlessly. The stack’s mind would fill in the pieces, bit by bit as the algorithm plucked the memories from the ones and zeroes. Eventually, when the construct spun up enough times, it would be filled with an endless loop of the worst of the worst memories the stack had stored. A living nightmare. Now, it was just a blank canvas. Kovacs could’ve waited until it had run its course, but he was curious to see the before. He hadn’t bothered with a refit of his own avatar. From what he’d gathered, Ryker and this Theo had a history. One that might play to his advantage.
A flip of a mental switch cued the spin up of the Meth. Takeshi -- Ryker, as the man would perceive him -- sat, in a white chair in a white room, cigarette unlit, rolling between thumb and forefinger. Better to cave to the cravings in the construct than the real world. “Welcome back.” Let him spend some time trying to remember if he’d been spun up in this setting, in this face to face, before. If he had, and Tak hadn’t wanted him to remember, he wouldn’t.