So, I figured it'd be a good time to do a mini introduction to me and my page
My name is Max !
So, basic information here;
Age: 18
Gender: Trans guy
Pronouns: He/him/his
Nationality: Scottish/Asian
Education: First year university student - so the workloads about to go crazy, guys
Some of my general hobbies and interests include drawing, writing, reading, (casual) gaming, video making/editing, dancing, playing guitar, singing and baking
As for fandoms, the main ones I'll be posting will likely be;
CRITICAL ROLE
DROPOUT/COLLEGE HUMOUR
THE LEGEND OF VOX MACHINA
ALIEN STAGE
SMOSH
I imagine that it's mostly going to be shit posting, and live reactions to some shows but I'm hoping to start posting art and sketches soon too, but we'll see how that goes !!
Other media might include FNAF, Love and Deepspace, HTTYD, Marvel, Kpop (skz, svt, enhypen, p1h), ARGs, Yaelokre, Dan and Phil and many many more !
disappointed is an understatement for the fact that a vocal minority of parasocial liars essentially throwing a week long tantrum is what’s finally stuck.
im extra disappointed from a game standpoint because i know there was going to be a lot of lore added and explained with his introduction bc of his position that we’re now missing out on, and the potential delays in already long awaited updates that re-workshopping this change will cause.
also just genuinely surprised because at the very least, from a business standpoint, all the sunken cost for him alone feels like it should’ve been the last resort for them to do this and not the first solution, since they’ll never make any money back on him now.
last but most important, not only are the players impacted here, but this widespread tantrum and attempt to strong arm a company over a game is having real life impacts on the writing team that was hired for Valko, all the voice actors and cosplayers and motion capture actors for him, and an entire design and animation team I’m sure. so yay, you nuked the real world just to get your fake world to be exactly as you want it …
StarClan split the velvet curtain of the sky, and the ensuing light shattered the world.
Fire burned despite the downpour of water from the heavens. The Two-Legs vessel was cast in all directions to be shredded by the gnashing teeth of the ocean. Into the hungry foam, Heronpaw fell.
Lavenderstar had told her that StarClan would return for everyone one day, be it in their dreams or through the hooked claw of another cat. It was a good thing, to be reunited with your loved ones. Heronpaw was so young, she could not imagine this happening to her quite yet.
Striking the churning water, she thought of Lavenderstar, she thought of her brother and sister in Starclan.
Were they scared, too?
Heronpaw was not allowed the luxury of fear for more than a breath. Adrenaline jolted through her and her paws scrambled for purchase in the murky darkness. She was suspended in the void of the sea, weightless and sinking all at once. Above her, the sickly pallor of the full moon, and beneath her, glimmering StarClan.
She felt their paws grazing hers. She could hear her name, spoken so far away and so warbled that it could have been a dream.
Heronpaw wanted it to be a dream. Yet, dreams did not involve drowning kits, and there was one entering the tide but a whiskers distance away from her.
Longkit.
She knew little of him, as he was less than a moon old and far too young to ever interact with, yet he was sinking like a leaden weight. The sunny orange of his fur was the only thing she had noticed, so jarring a sight against the void. Heronpaw cycled her paws in a frenzy, breaching the water’s surface.
She sucked in frigid air that stung her lungs, but did not linger. Heronpaw descended back into the depths, snatching Longkit in her jaws. He did not fight back. Distantly, Heronpaw thought that he was so small and warm compared to the ocean.
Heronpaw resurfaced a second time, sputtering pathetically for air through her nose as she gripped Longkit by his scruff. Only when Heronpaw dug her claws into the safety of driftwood did the kit react, mewling pathetically. Heronpaw collapsed beside him on their makeshift raft, fur flattened with salt water.
“It’s okay,” She repeated as a desperate litany, to either herself or the kit. “It’s okay, we’re okay, we’re okay.”
Heronpaw pulled Longkit ever closer to her, shutting her eyes to drown out the sound of Starclan’s claws tracing along the underside of the driftwood.
