#story!

[kitteecassee]

:o

[rockafstw]

for me Suzuka 1989 was really good to watch because i think knowing about the collision beforehand REALLY adds to the tension of the chase. It’s like being spoiled for the end of the movie, now you watch that movie with the ending in your mind and it changes your whole perspective on the scenes and where the movie is going and when you know now that something bad is going to happen this sense of dread grows as you get closer to the end. Watching Senna get closer and closer to Prost lap after lap after lap, there is some dread that grows. And you almost think in your mind - maybe it will end differently - but it won’t and it doesn’t because the two of them still collide when Senna finally, finally catches up to Prost.

The Suzuka 1989 crash is a very interesting one because you can really sense the emotion behind it, it is not just an accidental collision between championship competitors: it is a culmination of the resentment and anger and in Prost’s perspective, a sense of mistreatment and injustice that has been building up over the course of a year. Prost has been pushed to the limit working with Senna, he’s become unhappy at McLaren, so much so that he is leaving the team for Ferrari, but he is still in the championship, he is Leading the championship and Suzuka could be the decider. So Alain Prost tells Ron Dennis and Ayrton Senna before the race that this time, when Senna comes at him, he is not going to leave the door open, he’s not going to give Senna opportunity, he is going to fight. When Senna finally catches Prost, Senna makes a daring, perhaps even a little arrogant, move up the inside on the way into the chicane and is met with headstrong impulsivity, a turn of the wheel that results in a sudden skid to a stop. I do not think Prost made them crash on purpose. I think the idea of a crash was a vague back-of-the-mind sort of thing - in that moment it was about not letting Senna get past, it was about Prost holding his position on track in this title decider after a year of feeling pushed out of his position within his team.

This is the part that may start sounding a little bit crazy but like. idc. Bear with me! When you isolate this tense chase and subsequent collision, it can become representative of Prost and Senna’s relationship as a whole (at this point in time at least): Alain Prost is already ahead in terms of career success and consolidating his position within McLaren, he has two world championships and the most wins of any formula 1 driver, ever. And Prost is the man Senna wants to compare himself against and beat. REALLY badly. Commence the chase! Prost is the hunted and Senna is the hunter, and this applies not only on the track and the championship but goes for the McLaren team as well. Having a good relationship with your team, having a good position within the team is so important and Prost has this. Prost is GOOD at maintaining a strong place within his team, consistently besting his teammates. Not through rules about first and second drivers because Prost never asked for that, but through his performance, technical ability and connections. Senna is chasing this as well, because Senna knows he needs that as well if he is to beat Prost. On this point I’d like to show an excerpt from the book Senna Versus Prost by Malcolm Folley that I literally just remembered as I was typing and I think illustrates the dynamic I am talking about here:

This is what Prost has and what Senna wants to achieve laid out. This is a bigger, longer chase that you can interpret as being shown by Suzuka 1989. What happens when Senna catches Prost at Suzuka? What happens when you put two top drivers, highly competitive drivers, in equal machinery in the same team, fighting for a championship? They collide. Their relationship disintegrates. It’s unpleasant. It’s not something either of them wanted, but looking back it seems like it was inevitable. Suzuka 1989 is packed with emotion, it is rich in story and intrigue. I’m sure it was back then, but looking back years later with more context as to how things were in the team, with all kinds of interviews and perspectives available to us today, it puts a new lens on the race and what it meant for Senna and Prost’s relationship and for that reason, it is one of my favourite races to watch.

[ask-ghostly-mist]

Isn't your husband missing or something? What're you doing about that?

It's not unusual for her ever busy husband to spend the night down in his hive. He always comes home in the morning, or gives her a call if he can't. Flux and Ghostly are staunch believers in communication and never go radio silent with each other.

So for him to go several days without some kind of notice to her, without coming back once... It keeps her up at night. She hasn't slept in days, and now when she finally has, she's having awful nightmares. Perhaps Flux isn't the only one unveiling ancient secrets.

[mcneveroli]

This Is where the Beginning of Nanues Blankspace Adventure begins, Where we see Nanue is in search of her Precious Valued item that she cherished the most.

But little does she know, This day-Well umm whatever day it is in Blankspace will be special yet Dark for whatever this special day may bring…

With her little companion Heyo (the literal eyeball) will witness Nanues persistence and Determination In her adventure to this white void world.

🗺️

[kestrel-illustration]

[askanonmail]

{ Anonymous:  Who is net???? }

[ Valentine: net’s someone special! ]

-

[ Valentine: you see, i joined a group with a totally normal guy! ]

[ Valentine: he took us to this weird place! long story short, i met net!!! ]

[ Valentine: and in, i guess! ]

[ Anon: u guess....??? so rude dont do this to in ]

[ Valentine: anon get ooouuutttt!!! ]

-

[ Valentine goes on a ramble about Net, but Anon does some comically large unreal sippage ]

[the-prince-of-pink]

Lockdown: Tempo and Jest

No pain or numbness filled the entire right side of Tempo’s body. He could feel the remaining wires that hadn’t burst open slightly nudge themselves forward, simulating the movement of pushing Jest away. “Stop trying to move it, you’re just gonna open the gash more.” Jest explained as he carefully soldered a piece of copper wire to a microchip, smoke reflecting off of Tempo’s screen eyes back onto Jest’s bronze-black goggles. Tempo’s magenta eyes flickered against the black background of the screen they were on as Jest stopped welding for a minute and stood up, putting one hand in his coat pocket.

“So, you gonna tell me how THIS all happened?” Jest said, pointing at Tempo’s head which had valleys of bumps and dents, his finger moving down from Tempo’s now calamity of an arm and finally to the scraped back metal plates with streaks of oil dripping down the contours of Tempo’s leg down to the single wire still holding Tempo’s foot to its joint. Tempo’s head felt as if it was a tornado of conflicting data and errors, each word comprised of at least seven symbols, 3 letters and 5 numbers. “I acknowledge you for this act of service.” Tempo said with a voice like cracked glass instead of the usual clear-cut voice of a Vocaloid. Jest said nothing, he continued welding Tempo’s blue metallic plates back together as if trying to restore a broken vase.

Tempo thought back to what caused this, fragments of memory among the error codes within his head revealed the dark, rainy road where he was staring at his hands. Somehow, the error codes weren’t getting in the way of Tempo’s normally clear logic but now endless reminders of strange oddities in Tempo’s programming flooded Tempo’s head. One second a popup would invade Tempo’s eyesight, and echo following soon behind it with the words defective as its only message. The popups kept on repeating and repeating and repeating, every second Tempo knew he was alone, the more the reminders blocked Tempo’s sensors to the point of drowning out everything, only Tempo’s eyes weren’t completely blocked out. There vague images of blocks with lights on them which Tempo’s analysis program could barely recognize as they seemed to move so quickly and yet so quietly. The echoes in Tempo’s head were suffocating, all he knew was that he was created like this for a reason, he knew his form wasn’t an error, nor was he but at that point, he believed those thoughts were simply more rose-tinted messages his program tried to send him.

Though he still wanted to prove something, the smallest line of code deep within his system believed those hopeful messages meant something, the smallest chance of his programming not being corrupted or wrong, the smallest chance of him being perfect. Tempo looked up again at the blurs of light zooming left and right, deciding he would finally prove he wasn’t human, that he didn’t think like one and that he wasn’t going to be bound by emotions nor any other faulty thing organics have. He ran forward, barely feeling the wind of each object zoom past and seeing flickers of light leave and enter his vision. Just as his vision began to clear and the objects turned into vehicles, he felt something in his “heart”, a sudden command that stiffened his whole body, messages of disappointment flaring in his head and the overwhelming desire to return to the roadside as if nothing had ever happened. The next thing he remembered was a strong light behind him and then half of his entire body felt like shattered glass as his head almost flew off his neck, hammering itself to the dark, rainy road. And then nothing.

The next thing he remembered was Jest rebooting his system. “Tempo? Ya good there?” Jest said, interrupting Tempo’s memory search. “Affirmative, my systems are no longer completely compromised, I can handle further repairs from here.” He replied, still staring at the oil-covered floor. Jest took off his goggles which ruffled his coffee-colored hair. Jest let out a deep, hearty sigh. One of relief yet confused worry. Jest rubbed his temples, “You have basically a rock glued to a string for a foot and the mouth of a shark for an elbow, there is no way in the nine circles of whatever that I’m gonna let you fix yourself up.” “ I can assure you that my condition will not prohibit me from further reconstructing my form.” Jest pushed Tempo back onto the table as Tempo shifted his remaining usable arm and leg around.

“No, stop that. You’re not getting off this table till I can either get your arm back to looking like an actual arm, or you at least tell me what in the Sam Hill happened.”

“It was simply a rare case of a setback while I was completing a simple mission, something so trivial is something your concern isn’t worth.”

“Look, Tempo. Your dad nor your little cousin are here and I’m not here to judge or blame you for gettin yourself into an accident so please.” Jest explained as he removed his burned glove and put his hand on Tempo’s shoulder. “ Tell me what happened.”

Tempo stared at him, He took Jest’s hand off his shoulder and stood up with one leg, pushing against Jest. “Not your brother nor your “child” will know about this as my systems will be restored faster than an organism such as yourself can accomplish. Now I implore you to exit this room so that I may begin in peace.” Jest only pushed him back again, Tempo pushed himself forward as they clashed. “Why won’t you just tell me what happened? You kept telling me you don’t have the capacity to fear anything and yet now you can’t even explain an accident?” “Depart from this room,” Tempo repeated. Jest saw Tempo’s eyes now, completely glowing magenta and the room turning cold, Tempo now stood eye-level to Jest as if his foot weren’t dragging behind him. Jest didn’t make a sound, his face turned, the frustration had drained into an understanding yet troubled expression as he let go of Tempo’s shoulder. “Alright fine, take your time. There’s a spare plate of Metal in the top shelf if ya need it.”Jest said, slightly sarcastically but meaningfully.“Understood.” Jest walked to the door, sweeping the oil into a drain near the table which was now covered in it.

“Oh and I’ll be in the living room, if ya need anything. I’ll check on ya in a bit.”

“That will not be required.”

Jest paused for a moment, his eyes now softer yet sadder.

“Alright then, good luck, Tempo.” Jest said reassuringly.

Tempo said nothing, he pushed Jest out of the room, locking the door behind him.