A super short Warframe fic about what I imagine happens to Tenno with new frames.
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The first time was always the hardest.
The operator leaned back into the seat of the Transference chamber, letting his eyes drift shut as the pod closed around him and enveloped him in that weighted darkness, sending his consciousness hurtling into the newly crafted frame before him.
Valkyr.
Despite being a foundry-created copy, centuries removed from the original, the echo of her pain and anguish flooded his mind, igniting his fury and making him grit his teeth, faintly aware of the sensation from his new vantage point. Her screams - screams torn from a voice with no mouth as Alad V sliced and peeled the hybrid techno-organic skin from her body - grew louder and louder, his blood boiling, his mind overwhelmed, he couldn't take any more, he couldn't-
The world became a blur around him as he was thrown from the Transference pod. He let out a hiss as a bloom of pain spread across his cheekbone, the cool metal of the Orbiter floor unforgiving against his softer human skin. He had to try again.
He lifted himself to his feet with a groan, straightening his suit before he returned to the pod. Before leaning back and letting it close, he took a breath. Then another. And another. He continued, breathing deeper and more evenly with each one. His mind calm and empty, he rested back in his seat, eyes closed well before the chamber had started to close around him.
After letting the rush of the initial connection wash over him, he reached out tentatively, a gentle hand brushing the shell of her memory. Their minds connected in an instant - hers, fragmented, torn, and feral after being skinned alive, and his, still only a child of sixteen with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
The ghost of Valkyr calmed, letting his solemn, assured nature take control of the body they now occupied. Her echo faded with a sigh, the artificial copy now just that - an empty shell. Just a frame to be piloted.
He flexed her vicious claws, disoriented at her greater height. Stretching her long, supple limbs, he crouched, leaping clear into the next chamber of his Orbiter. Landing lightly, he shook her head, amazed at the agility of his new form. He stood, rolled her shoulders, and padded to the navigation console. Kneeling, he took in the system map before him, watching the next mission node blink at him for a moment in apprehension.
A few minutes passed before the silence was broken. "Operator?" Ordis began, "Are you alright?"
He shook the frame's horned head before replying, his voice emanating from her mouthless face as though from a speaker, "Yes, I'm alright. Just got a bit lost in thought. I'm ready when you are," he sighed.
Ordis replied in his usual peppy tone, "I am always ready, Operator!" and directed the Orbiter toward Neptune.
you don’t realize how important lunch is until you’re wandering around thinking about how unloveable and untalented and uniquely cursed you are and then it’s 4pm and you finally eat lunch and you go Oh. oh right.
Normal groceries like milk or bread or whatever running out is whatever. Just anotha day. But when stuff like salt or cooking oil or rice runs out it feels like You’re supposed to be here for me and you’re leaving. You’re just like everyone else
Stopped saying I want to kill myself and started saying damn I tired I need to sleep instead and it made insane impact. Be kinder to yourself and ask the questions and say the things you would think it would be good to say towards someone you love. Try to talk to you like you would to a friend. I know it is hard and we can't always do it but it helps
I really do wish meeting new people when you're autistic didn't result in the person viewing you as secretly evil for at least a month before realizing you just act slightly different than others without ulterior motive. I get that people meet a lot of assholes in life but omg. I didn't do anything
thank u. i hate it a little less but the horrible little man in my head is still screaming “BOG BODY BOG BODY BOG BODY”, but i appreciate the education,
oh here is a fun lil perspective on cranberry harvesting i never heard about anywhere else. the guy who owns the restaurant right down the road from the farm, who fries our chickens sometimes, is from Boston, with the strongest Boston accent ever, and in a former life before he started slinging reasonably priced barbeque and occasional organic chicken, he was a cranberry farmer.
His farm was on the leading edge of kinda using organic/sustainable pest control methods, and one of the things that they did to keep insect damage down was that they encouraged wolf spiders to live in the cranberry field, to eat the bugs.
This was all fine and good until they flooded the bog. Now, you don’t just like flood the bog and then go around it in a boat or whatever. No, you use hip waders to get in there and put the big floaty things where they go and get all the berries and such.
Well when you’re in the bog in hip waders, that makes you the tallest thing. Wolf spiders can swim a bit, but they don’t like it, so they’re, quite understandably, looking to climb out of the water onto a tall thing.
So yeah the first interview question he always asked potential cranberry bog harvester hires was “are you cool with spiders?”
“You’d be amazed,” he said to us, shaking his head a little, “how many guys would just straight lie. Like, you think I’m asking you that question to be cute? Nah man you’re gonna have like a hundred wolf spiders trying to climb your eyebrows, you gotta be chill, those wolf spiders are fellow employees. You really gotta be chill with spiders if you’re gonna work a cranberry harvest.”
Saxo Grammaticus (c. 1160 – c. 1220) explaining the importance of understanding that all creative work is inherently derivative once you study the oral tradition of storytelling and history and that’s okay because generations have always reformatted tropes and themes to make them relatable to their current audiences
Shakespeare (1564), Kimba the White Lion (1965), The Lion King (1994), The Lion King (2019), Cats (2019):