Just my little Blog for all my Interests and stuffs. Witchy and Pagan Stuff ahead (Previously Claw Commander Absinthe/RandomNightLord) ((27, Pagan, Witch, Trans-Woman, She/Her, Bisexual.)) Header photographed by me! :D Icon by @dasspaghettimonster
You know what I find fascinating about the Backrooms movie? How having a budget forced them to do things practically.
Think about it. On his own Kane Pixels was making backrooms YouTube videos using the free software Blender. Because he was just a 16 year old kid doing this for fun in his spare time.
But now he’s got to direct a feature length movie. And if he wants actors running through those same blender environments, that’s going to be super expensive hiring visual effects companies to rotoscope and green screen composite and motion track all those shots. A handful of visual effect shots can cost thousands of dollars a day.
So what’s the solution? JUST FUCKING BUILD IT.
It’s cheaper to just build 30,000 square feet of walls and wallpaper than it is to composite 500 effects shots.
What about the monster? JUST BUILD A PUPPET. It’s cheaper to build a puppet and hire a really tall thin guy to operate it than it is to 3D model, animate, and composite it into the film. And look! Bonus! Anytime the puppet interacts with the real world it looks REAL. Because it’s a real physical object in the set!
You need your character to run through a room of couches? Just buy (or rent) a bunch of couches and put them in a room!
And even when you do use visual effects for set extensions, you still film as much practically as possible. Like my favorite example, when Mary runs out into this alleyway… JUST FILM A REAL ALLEYWAY OUTSIDE and add the walls in post!
And this is all because the movie even HAD a budget that it necessitated them doing things practically and cheaply. What a weird paradoxical situation, huh?
Warnings/Info: Some angst, themes of suffocation, pain, then happy !!!
A/N: i miss my wife this is dedicated 2 her @servalstation i saw the tv glow is so us coded
Despite the excitement, the anticipation, the deep and intense yearning she was feeling, Owen was in the throes of agony. For how many years—or perhaps minutes, even seconds—had she been choking on nothing, the air of this false world simply unable to fuel her lungs? Her body felt like it was disintegrating, and she recalled Tara explaining to her this transformation process. Through the unbearable pain, she could see the small fleck of light far away from her. She tried to reach out to it, but the hand she’d known as Owen was gone, her old body already decayed from carrying her through the cruel illusion that was Owen’s existence.
She would be with Tara soon—if it wasn’t too late. I’m sorry, she wanted to say. For taking so long, for not believing you. I was just scared. Just like how she was scared then, but her hours of wailing were long over. She had cried all the tears she had, screamed for help with all the words in her mouth. There was absolutely nothing left, and she found herself horrified at the thought she didn’t have a body leftover at all.
But the light grew bigger, and would have cried with relief if she could. The hard part was finally over, and yet, she still had no clue what easier would be. Would Tara even be there? Would she forgive her? What if she hated her, or had thrown away her heart before Isabel could reunite with her true body?
It was like she was breaking through the dirt above her. She felt the intense pressure on her head, and she began to blindly dig upwards, further and further until she found herself overwhelmed with the world she entered.
In an instant, it all came rushing back. Her life in this world. The smell of fresh grass and clean air rushed into her lungs, and she wondered how she tolerated breathing the air of that old world for so long. She looked around herself, expecting to be surrounded by soil with filthy fingernails. But she simply laid on the soft grass, the earth beneath her completely unbroken. It didn’t comply with the laws of reality her mind was previously confined to.
Isabel slowly rose to her feet, cautiously examining her surroundings. Tara had said she needed to find her heart after she returned to their true world, and that it had been in the refrigerator.
It was almost as if she’d never left at all in the way she confidently began to ran towards the mess hall of their sleepaway camp, the picture of the steel double door fridge vivid in her mind. The sun was setting, but the air itself was so warm on her skin as she jogged through the campgrounds. This was her home, and her body felt right for the first time since she had been ripped away from it.
The sleepaway camp was uncharacteristically empty, giving it a slight eerie feeling Isabel didn’t like to associate with the place that brought her the most joy. She entered the mess hall, relieved when she could hear the loud buzzing of electricity no doubt coming from the fridge.
She was shaking when she walked into the back room, equal parts desperate and terrified to put her heart back into her body. It explained the horrible empty feeling she felt her whole life as Owen—without your heart, who were you? Isabel stood in front of the double doors, taking a deep breath before opening them wide.
A putrid smell filled her nose. On a kitchen dining plate sat her heart—in a pool of blood and beating. She almost didn’t want to touch it, but it had once been inside of her, there was no reason to be apprehensive.
It was intuitive, the way she held her heart and brought it to her chest. She didn’t have the conscious thought of how to reintegrate this vital organ into her chest, it seemed she somehow knew exactly what to do.
She watched her skin move like a sinkhole, caving in on itself with wet squelching sounds as her flesh absorbed her heart. Isabel watched it disappear, and she knew it had settled in perfectly from the long-awaited warm comfort filling her entire chest. She heard the thumping of her heart in her ears, pressing a palm to her chest to finally feel the beat of a present heart. She hadn’t felt this warm in so long, and it brought tears to her eyes. She had wasted so much time suppressing the truth, and she had no way to know how much time she had truly lost being away from this world.
Tara, she thought. I need to find Tara!
Isabel rushed out of the kitchen, running for the doors to the mess hall she’d left open. Tara could be at their cabins, or at the docks! She sprinted past the rows of tables before reaching the doorway, gasping in shock when she found herself face-to-face with the one person she was searching for.
They almost collided, both of them startled by the sudden reunion. Seeing Tara’s face made Isabel’s throat almost close up. She had so much she wanted to say that she wasn’t able to say anything at all. She was relieved, excited, joyful, remorseful, and so much more.
“Isabel! You got your heart,” Tara said breathlessly.
Isabel’s fingers subconsciously went to her chest, glancing down at the completely smooth skin that had caved in moments prior. “How did you know?” She asked softly.
Tara placed her hand overtop hers, both of them tearing up at the sensation of her beating heart. “I felt it… in mine,” Tara explained, bringing Isabel’s other hand to the spot over her own heart. “I told you… we’re connected.”
Isabel started to cry, and she felt grateful she had tears again. “I… I’m so sorry, you tried to tell me… and- I-” Isabel hiccuped, the tears flowing freely down her face now. Tara made a sound of dismissal, her hands shooting up to cradle Isabel’s face.
“I never doubted you’d come back to me, Isabel.” She wiped away her tears, trying to get Isabel to look her in the eyes.
“I know you. I knew, if I waited, you’d come back to me.”
Tara pressed her forehead against Isabel’s, their shared mark tingling on the back of her neck. She swallowed the lump in her throat, entangling her fingers in Tara’s slicked back hair. This was the moment that marked their reunion, the rest of their lives. They were finally back together, back in their true home.
the amazing digital circus is a show about empathy and what it does to you if you go too long without a support system so the show starts with sympathizing with Pomni (the most empathetic person, easy), ep2 is empathizing with an NPC in a game (no flaws), ep3 is empathizing with a man who has dementia, ep4 is empathizing with someone who annoys you when they're unmasking, ep5 is asking you to empathize with an abused rich white woman and so on....
so it all works up to the empathy boss - a bush era edgelord millenial trans girl who thinks she's Max from Sam & Max and is inherently unworthy of love
i could joke about people missing the subtext in previous episodes, but i appreciate the fans who went from not believing in transfem jax to immediately incorporating it into their fanart/AUs/whatever. no arguments, no bullshit, just
i watched all of tadc with a friend in one go right before episode 8 dropped. so i missed some things. (also sometimes i just lowkey suck at finding subtext in visual media.) but hell yeah transfem jax i guess that’s what we’re doing now
