Kat/Sarah, she/they, 26 y/o. mostly mcyt (Pixlriffs, fWhip, sbk, hermitcraft) and art stuff, occasional spn (Cas girl). sometimes I post my own art. yes, there is shipping stuff here, and most of these posts are not tagged
my name’s sarah, i’m in my early twenties, i live in germany, i’m a college student
this is my blog, which means that there are only things i like on here. it’s mostly reblogged stuff, only a few original posts (most of this stuff is also not tagged at all, because tagging is a hassle for me)
current topics i blog about: supernatural (destiel); mcyt (hermitcraft and empires smp); fashion, fibre arts, art in general, nature
personal tags i use: sarah rambling (for miscellaneous stuff), sarahs fashion inspo (for cool dresses that inspire me), for later (for stuff i want to remember/is kinda important), queue tag is queue the one and only
The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin. They both looked down at the crumpled shape of the Overlord, His Unholy Majesty, in his obsidian armor.
His final spasms had been mesmerizingly acrobatic. The fall down the steps leading up to his iron throne had pretzelled his body quite impressively, both arms folded behind his back and one leg bent at a jaunty angle.
The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin.
"Shit," said the goblin.
"Shit," said the orc.
"We're likely to get blamed for this," the goblin said. She walked over to the head of the glittering mangled heap and started pulling the helmet off.
"It's not our fault," the orc said. "It's hard to help someone choking when they wear two-hundred pounds of spiked armor at all times."
"Yeah, well," the goblin grunted. The helmet came free, and the bald head of the Overlord bounced on the stone with a hollow, coconut noise. "You know how it is in this bloody country - thieves get their heads cut off so they can't think about thieving, and all that." She fished in the Overlord's mouth with a finger and pulled out the obstructing olive on the end of her claw.
She popped it into her mouth and chewed. "What do you reckon they do for a regicide?" she said.
"We should run," the orc said. She had started bouncing her leg. "I hear that there's some places in the Alliance where they just kill you and let you stay dead. That's got to be nicer than what'll happen if we stay here."
The goblin started to nod - and then her gaze fell on the helmet.
It looked like a pineapple designed by a deranged blacksmith. It was all thorns and spikes and hard edges, as though the maker had been very determined to not let pigeons roost on it. The only bits that weren't solid iron were eyeholes. Nobody had ever seen the Overlord's face.
She held up the helmet and squinted from it to the orc. One of the thorns had been bent badly in the fall.
Nobody had ever seen the Overlord's face...
"Right," she muttered. "Right. Could work - or."
The orc had a sudden vision of the immediate future. "No," she said.
"I mean you're about his height-"
"No."
"It would just be for a-"
"Absolutely not."
"Just hear me out," the goblin said. "Outside of this room are two-thousand men and orcs and goblins who are absolutely gonzo about this man, and there's a whole country of them outside of the castle, and at any moment someone's going to walk in that door and see one dead tit in black armor and two unbelievably dead idiots next to him.
"Or." She tossed the helmet up like a basketball to the orc, who fumbled and tried to find somewhere to hold it that wasn't a knife's edge. "We chuck him out the window now, walk out the door in the armor, and ditch the armor as soon as nobody sees us."
The orc had started bouncing her leg again. "They'll know something's up the second I walk out of the room."
"No worries," said the goblin. "Leave that to me."
---
It had been a very strange year for the Empire.
Change had rolled across the land as slow and inevitable as a glacier. Roads and bridges carved the gray, blasted wildlands, and a number of social reforms had made the country a place where you could be miserable, yes, but miserable in comfort and safety, and that was an improvement.
Barely anyone got boiled alive in molten metal, and even if the disgusted sun never rose to light the Empire, at least you had a roof over your head to protect yourself from the acid rain.
"Your empire flourishes, Your Unholy Majesty," the magician said over her wine glass. She looked down from the tower's balcony over the gleaming stone battlements. Some work had been done to line the castle and surrounding city with sizzling, crackling alchemical lights at night. The whole thing glowed like something dangerously radioactive.
The suit of armor waved a languid, glittering gauntlet over to the goblin, who bowed.
"His Abominable Gloriousness Thanks You," the goblin recited. "The Prosperity Of His Empire Can Only Be Achieved Through The Prosperity Of His People."
"If I may be so bold, I am quite pleased that you had chosen to take my counsel under consideration," said the magician. "We have accomplished many things together."
Another wave. Another bow. "The Overlord, May His Presence Swallow The Sun And Stars, Thanks You As Well."
"It was quite gratifying to see you change your mind, after so many centuries of denial." The wine was swirled. "Tell me, what was it that finally gave you cause to listen to me?"
There was the slightest hesitation. The goblin's eyes flicked to the armor, then to the magician. She puffed out her chest. "Do you question the wisdom of His Austere Lugubriousness?" she asked.
The magician looked at the goblin. She looked at the armor. She tipped her head back and drank the wine too quickly.
She looked back at the armor. "I know you're the orc, you moron," she said.
The room went deathly still. An alchemical light fizzled.
The orc pulled off the helmet, sending long, untied hair down tangling, and said: "How could you possibly-"
"Because you're both idiots!" the magician said. The goblin jumped. The orc jumped with a noise like a dropped stove. "What kind of a plan was this?! If it wasn't for me, you would have been turned into fertilizer months ago."
She closed her eyes. She took a long, dramatic breath. She set the wine glass down on the balcony rail.
"How did the Overlord die?" she asked when she seemed like she had gotten a hold over herself.
"Choked on an olive," said the goblin.
"Threw his body out the window," said the orc.
"You don't have to mention the window," said the goblin.
"Right," said the orc. "Sorry."
The magician looked out over the city, hand curled thoughtfully under her nose. "Who knows about this?"
"Just us. And, uh. You. Apparently."
"And why did you accept my counsel?"
The orc blinked. "Sorry?"
"Why did you accept my counsel?" the magician repeated.
"Well," the orc said. "Well - you seemed like you had good ideas-"
"Great ideas!" the goblin said with an edge of desperation. "Don't know why the old bastard didn't listen to you!"
"Right - right," said the orc. "And when we figured we were stuck doing this - well, it just made sense, really."
The magician seemed to absorb this. She nodded. "All right," she said, striding between the two and grabbing the crystal decanter.
"Um," said the orc. "Sorry. What happens now?"
"What happens is that you two will continue to serve as Overlord," said the magician. "You will continue to take my counsel. We will continue to reform this bloody country, and gods willing, we will turn it into the crown jewel of the world by next Midwinter."
The orc looked at the goblin. The goblin looked at the orc.
"Really?" the goblin asked.
"Oh yes," said the magician. "I've worked hard to be counsel to the Overlord, and I have no reason to stop now. And besides-"
She looked the orc up and down with a deliberate slowness, poring over every microscopic detail, eyes tracing over every jagged line, and grinned like a panther.
"You look much better in the armor than he ever did," she said. Dark robes swirled like a becleavaged thundercloud, and she strode out through the high iron doors, decanter in hand.
The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin.
see every time i see this status i get angry because i’ve played through literally every scenario in rct1 and there is no place where this is a thing. there is never more than one park per map. and in rct2 you can’t make that happen i the scenario editor either. it is not remotely within the game’s functionality to simulate two discrete parks and these games were coded in assembly for christ sake so it’s not like someone modded it in by adding the line “int const TOTAL_NUM_POSSIBLE_PARKS = 2;”. there is no conceivable way this post is anything close to true and even though i know how writing all this out reflects upon me as a person and even though i know exactly how meaningless and trifling of a takedown attempt this is on some random facebook screencap with hundreds of thousands of notes im going to post it anyway because i’m too petty to have any say in the matter
Adrian and Grace are still getting used to each other, I like the idea of Rocky and Grace already having an established dynamic, one that Adrian is perfectly okay with of course but she’s still warming up to Grace themself. And unexpectedly they start to have interest in getting closer.
i like grockdrian in the way that grace did not even realize he was adrian and rockys third, he was just spending his days going "wow, im so glad rocky and adrian are always here for me..... i really like them" and then just doesnt think further than that (or questions why he likes them so much), but from rocky and adrians perspective they have been married to this leaky alien for quite a while now
my long lost husband returned from space obsessed with and devoted to some kind of extremely fragile alien blob. which is fine, i guess. building it a biodome was kind of fun at least.
"Men Aren't Better Than Women: Both Genders Are Inferior To Me" is a 1991 book by Dr. Ivo Robotnik (better known for other work). Though its primary purpose is clearly to stroke the author's own ego, it is generally regarded as a comprehensive, well-constructed, and accessible work of contemporary feminist theory, and is still commonly-cited to this day.
Most of the critical complaints have been about the tone; in a review from 2005, Professor Victoria of Spagonia University said, "The constant self-aggrandizement undercuts the idea that its subject ought to be taken seriously. Also, wasn't the 'feminist' line from the Sonic Heroes manual a mistranslation of 'womanizer'?"
In 2026, Dr. Robotnik released a new edition updated for the preceding 35 years of developments in feminism, with the subtitle changed from "Both Genders" to "All Genders."
mcyt university graduate @kataa-floko - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
