“This means… of Rocky, possessive. Of the speaker.”
“My.”
“Correct. But only for names.”
“So you’re calling me…?”
Rocky repeats the word: “My Grace. Yes.”
“Are there other Graces? Why do you need to specify?”
Rocky considers this, tapping his xenonite-encased claws idly against the floor.
“No other Grace,” Rocky says. “We just do this.”
“Like an honorific,” Grace guesses. “It goes before everyone’s name? Everyone you know?”
Rocky whirs in surprise. “No, no, no. Not at all.”
“Okay, then who? What makes me qualify?”
Rocky is silent for a moment.
“...Does this offend Grace?” he asks, voice lower.
Grace blinks. “No! I don’t think so. Is there a reason to be offended?”
“Good,” Rocky says, relieved. Grace is starting to recognize what Eridian relief sounds like. “No, no reason.”
“Who else do you call that?”
“You don’t have this on Earth?”
Grace considers. What for, friends? He couldn’t call Marissa “my Marissa.” That would be weird.
“I still don’t know what it means,” he settles on. “So I couldn’t tell you.”
Rocky groans in frustration. He’s a very impatient tutor. “We just say it.”
“Are you my Rocky?” Grace asks. He hits the two keys to make the my note.
“I don’t know!” Rocky says. “You decide this.”
“I decide? Who do you use it for?”
“You. Adrian. I will use it for my pebbles.”
Grace blinks. “So few?”
Rocky shifts. “I am… you do not have the word yet. Eridian who works alone often, not close to many other Eridians.”
“What, mechanical engineer?”
Rocky chitters with amusement. “Acceptable.”
“Is Adrian your only friend?”
Rocky draws back, like he’s taken offense. “I have friends. Coworkers. But different.”
So just Adrian. And him.
“This worries you,” Rocky says.
“Adrian is your mate,” Grace points out. “I’m not your mate.”
“Correct. You are not. You do not like to be a mate.”
Grace isn’t sure how to respond to that, so he ignores it.
“I’m your friend,” Grace says.
Rocky hesitates, for a second. “...Correct.”
“Like your coworkers.”
“No.”
Grace sighs, rubbing his hand across his face. Okay, maybe that’s fair. It’s not like he felt about any of his coworkers like he feels about Rocky.
“Best friend,” Grace amends. “You’re my best friend, too.”
Rocky hums. “Acceptable.”
“Just acceptable? Now you are offending me. Can you just explain?”
This makes Rocky fall silent for a minute longer than usual. Grace is half-ready to apologize and to say let’s move on and to retype his own name without the superfluous my.
“The Earth ‘best friend’ is not strong enough,” Rocky says finally. “It does not translate this way.”
Grace runs his fingers through his hair, a little nervous, for some reason. “Okay.”
“It is…” Rocky pauses. He has to pause more often, now that they’re not using the translator, to simplify his language. “It means that I am not Rocky without my Grace. You are part of… of the whole. When I wake up, I think of you. When I work. When I eat. When I think I am going to die.”
Rocky speaks slowly, but it’s still a lot of Eridian for Grace to grasp all at once. Even as he works out the sentences in his head, he can feel hot tears rising in his eyes.
“It means that when you are sick, I am sick,” Rocky continues. “And it means I will take care of you, because taking care of you is taking care of myself.”
Grace bunches up his sleeve, wiping it across his face, blinking furiously.
Rocky’s voice is soft. “So Grace is part of Rocky. Grace is like a cell. You see? My Grace.”
Grace is quiet, for a moment, trying to get himself together. When he speaks, his voice is shaky.
“...Oh.”
Rocky hums, pressing his carapace gently against Grace’s arm. “You are leaking. Does this make you sad?”
Grace shakes his head, sniffing, crossing his arms across his knees and resting his chin on his sleeves. “Not at all.”
“Good, good.”
“I feel like that,” Grace mumbles. “Just like that. Just exactly—exactly like that.”
“About your old mate?”
“Don’t act stupid. You know I’m talking about you.”
Rocky hums, burrowing closer. Grace curls one arm around his carapace. That’s not enough, so he leans over, dropping his head down so his forehead presses against the xenonite.
“My Rocky,” Grace whispers in English.
“My Grace,” Rocky echoes in Eridian. Grace can recognize the note at the start. He will add it when he plays Rocky’s name.
“How long have you called me that?” Grace asks. “Must’ve been a while. I didn’t notice it change.”
“Why don’t you use ai” idk man beyond the obvious environmental and “this machine causes psychosis and encourages people to kill themselves” thing I think asking the equivalent of a solid D student who is also a pathological liar if they can answer my question/do the work for me seems pretty fucking stupid
whenever I confess to people that i feel like I am just roleplaying as a normal person they're always like noooo you don't strike me as someone who's roleplaying as a normal person at all!!! :) and every time internally im like well yes that's because I am excellent at it
Can everyone who makes video content do a Deaf bitch a favor? Watch your shit with the captions on and the sound off, and then do another round of editing to fix things including but not limited to:
Captions cover the spot on the screen you put the information I need
The dialogue is captioned but not the song you have playing that the dialogue is responding to
You only captioned the person on the screen, not the person off screen who is also talking
No captioning of critical sound effects (alarms, bells, dogs barking, etc)
Speakers are not labelled at moments where it is not clear on the screen who is talking.
Captions cover the spot on the screen that you put the information I need!
Other d/Deaf people welcome to add.
This post brought to you by the fifth video tutorial I could not follow because the bad, auto-generated captions covered what I was trying to watch today.
[Description: A divorce lawyer answering the question "do you believe in soulmates?"
He answers: I believe that whoever created the concept of soulmates should be taken into the town square and beaten to death. Or you should tell me who they are so I can send them a check for a couple of hundred thousand dollars, because they have done more to facilitate the demise of happy marriages than I could ever aspire to doing.
The concept of a soulmate to me is absolutely bizarre. To suggest that out of eight billion other people in the world, that there's just this one person, and they happen by the way to live within like the same town as you, where they went to the same university as you - what were the odds of that? And that's the only person you could ever have a happy, fulfilling relationship with. That's insane, folks. It's insane. And by the way, it's toxic. Because here's the thing: when you get married, society essentially tells you, this person, they're supposed to be your best friend, best lover, best roommate, best travel companion, best co-parent - that's a hell of a resume, guy. Like, it'd be shocking to find someone who fits all three of those things.
So what happens when you have this concept of a soulmate? And my partner, you know, they're the best co-parent, they're the best roommate, the best travel companion, but you know, they're not the best lover I ever had. Well, they mustn't be your soulmate then. That means that there's somebody out there in the eight billion people, that they would be the perfect one. And that's what the horizon that just forever recedes and keeps people constantly craving the next thing that might check all of the boxes. It's dangerous.
Look, we break in relationship, we heal in relationship. You're marrying a human being. They're just as flawed as you. They have great moments, they have awful moments, they have heroic moments, they have villainous moments. This idea that somebody out there is going to be this perfect angelic presence in your life, it is a fiction, and it is the siren song that's gonna send you right into the rocks of my office. /End Description]
I need this man to write a poem or short story anthology about the woes of marriage as the divorce lawyer looking in. I think it would be FASCINATING.
"it is the siren song that's gonna send you right into the rocks of my office"
SIR. PLEASE. WRITE ME SOME MORE VERSES.
I think it's very funny when I run across someone who's blog I'm eh on bc they're like, mildly annoying in a way that I'm thinking of blocking them for and then I realize that they're under 23 and I go ohhhhhh okay. they haven't figured it out yet
It's funny how the cutoff point keeps rising with age too. I'm 29 and if you're like 25 i know you're still halfway through starting the journey and i'm the grizzled old woman giving you a rusty sword in tutorial village and asking that you slay the slimes in my basement
Me: Talking about wanting to put Jews in an internment camp is Nazi behavior.
People in my mentions: Okay, but what if the Jews are actually bad this time?
Me: Cool rationalization, still Nazi.
I know popular media depicts Nazis as like vampires, driven by predatory instinct and goth fashion, but they did think they were the good guys. They thought they were noble warriors of justice fighting evil, doing whatever it took to protect their children. Thinking you're a good guy fighting bad guys does not preclude you from acting like a Nazi.
if you ever see me post an AI generated image, please assume it is because I am fucking stupid and not because I support and use generative AI. the search results on many search engines and picture sharing websites are absolutely infested with AI and I do my very best to avoid AI generated images but there is always the possibility that I will not notice because, again, I am not terribly observant and I don’t have good eyesight. I know it is frustrating and I know it is my responsibility to look into the image source but things will slip through the cracks, please inform me instead of assuming I know
every so often I come across a kink post about like being kidnapped and tortured or held at gunpoint or begging for ones life for sexual purposes and I understand its going for a very haggard frail thing being taken advantage of vibe but in my mental image it really just comes off the same as that picture of wolverine strapped to a nuke
This is the funniest image I’ve seen in years like this is probably the very worst thing that could possibly happen to anyone ever and the artist somehow perfectly conveyed the correct level of emotion he’d be feeling like dude it’s over but what else are you supposed to do
cannibalism is pretty sexy ngl @cvilidreta - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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