Latest Posts by thatoneafkguy - Page 3

Ultimately, I don't want to be known for my dog.

I've been reading some stuff on punitive justice, and it made something click for me that I've observed a lot online but haven't been able to put into words before.

When someone does something wrong, that's bad, and the damage it does needs to be repaired while the person needs to try to do better in future to minimize repeating harm. We learn it in preschool - say sorry, don't do it again. If they keep at it, remove them from the situation where they can do the harm until they prove they're responsible enough to go back in.

So if it turns out someone DIDN'T do anything wrong, that should be a relief! There's no damage to fix, no internal errors to correct. Less work for everybody, literally no harm done. False alarm, all good.

The thing I've observed is, lots of people want them to have done something wrong. There's almost disappointment when it turns out there's no harm done. And I think that's because of this general undercurrent of punitive justice as morally righteous and desirable: someone does something wrong, you get to punish them. Turns out they're innocent? That's disappointing. Find another reason you get to punish them, or find another bad person you get to punish. But at the core of it is that desire to punish someone. Someone you can hurt in a way that makes you a better person for hurting them.

This particular brand of almost cannibalistic pseudo-justice is super common in tumblr, one of the most ostensibly liberal spaces on the internet; I see more borderline savagery in online discourse here than in the actually toxic parts of the internet that are just openly cruel for cruelty's sake. It's always thrown me for a loop, and has frankly also hurt me, because on the rare occasions I get personally dogpiled, it only actually stings when it makes me worry that I've legitimately hurt someone. If I did something wrong, or more realistically when I inevitably do something wrong, that would make it good and right for people to give me shit about it every day until I'm dead.

The thing that clicked for me most recently was this bit in Ijeoma Oluo's Be A Revolution:

Punitive justice is specifically, uniquely appealing to people who have suffered injustices. Of course it's the Tumblr zeitgeist. Everyone here is a marginalized person failed by at least one system. Punishing someone for perceived injustice is how someone the system has deemed worthless proves their value in blood, even if the person being punished hasn't harmed you directly - even if they haven't harmed anyone. "Righteous" anger isn't about the target in these cases, it's about the inflicter. This is how much my pain is worth.

And that kind of violent validation is so alluring and so very dangerous. It seeks an outlet, wearing the justification of justice. Who's in reach? Who's an acceptable target this week? What's a good reason to use?

Is there anything they could do that would make me stop?

Death Battle Matchup: The Collector (Aurora Webcomic) vs Emperor Belos (The Owl House)

Connections: ancient mages who have spent centuries perfecting their own twisted version of their world’s magic system (Belos invented the Coven Sigils to force people to control “wild magic,” whereas The Collector manipulates life magic to create monsters and destroy cities by “healing” their land). They see the people in their world as being entirely below them, and treat even the godlike figures in their world as just pawns and tools in their machinations (Vash for The Collector, Papa Titan and The Collector for Belos). They commit evil actions like genocide in the name of one of the ancient gods of their world, who makes up the very land that the story takes place on (The Primordials and Papa Titan), despite these entities not necessarily supporting their villainy back. They both have a form which can shift in between being humanoid and sludge-like, which allows them to regenerate from massive amounts of damage. Both characters prefer to enact their plans in secret and stay out of sight, but demonstrate deadly effectiveness in combat when the situation calls for it.

Animation potential: there’s a lot of potential for interesting scenes and interactions between the two characters’ powers. Belos has a much more versatile set of spells and abilities, so he can do a lot to outmaneuver The Collector using Glyphs, teleportation, mind magic etc., meanwhile The Collector can use her control of the Primordials to manipulate the terrain to her advantage and distract Belos by summoning Chimerae to her aid. They could then transition to a more close quarters physical battle with Belos’s Palisman form vs The Collector with her knives and plant magic. Lastly, Belos in his Titan form could go up against The Collector channeling the power of Primordial Life, and/or trying to take his soul for her own.

Dialogue/interaction potential: both characters are very calculating and sinister, so they would likely start with Collector trying to goad and study Belos while the latter tries to intimidate and belittle her. As the fight goes on, Belos slowly loses his composure and becomes more aggressive and animalistic, while the Collector becomes more confident in developing a strategy to win.

Track name: Wicked Witches

Debate: Both characters are pretty comparable in AP/Speed/Durability, so abilities and hax seem to be the deciding factor. Ultimately, I think Belos should win in this case even if Collector’s stats are likely a bit higher. He has several abilities between petrification, telekinesis and the Titan’s mold-breath that should be able to overcome the Collector’s life magic. Meanwhile, the hax that the Collector has are much more situational and less likely to overcome his defensive abilities.

Setup: The Collector arrives in the Boiling Isles seeking information about the Titan and its powers, hoping to study it and add to her collection. Locals lead her to Emperor Belos as the ultimate emissary of the Titan; however, Belos is suspicious of her Life magic as signs of a “wild witch” and so he decides to have her seized and petrified for her “heresy.”

Me when I write a DnD setting where the main villains are themed around manifesting from humanity's emotions, defining traits, etc. and then watch Chainsaw Man/Jujutsu Kaisen

I know I'm three years late to the riot but who let Arcane steal the plot vibes and themes of Storge beat for beat in the first two episodes before turning it into the most emotionally devastating tragedy I've ever seen.

Sasha, Consort of Guardian Anne

I mean if it’s requests you want I’m always gonna suggest the whole ghost Anne haunting her post canon self bc that’s just who I am 👀

just for u <3

GUYS THERES THIS WEBSITE CALLED SETTEI DREAMS THAT HAS EVERY CHARACTER REF SHEET AND MODEL FOR A TON OF ANIME CIRCULATE THIS AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE!!

no, i dont lose hyperfixations. theyre just moved to a different, slightly less used, shelf in my brain.

First post here: Sharing a short story about one of the villains from my D&D game named The Ocelot! Hope people enjoy it and any feedback is welcomed.

Ling ran. With her daughter Tai held tightly against her chest, she sprinted as fast as her feet could carry the two of them, under twisted vines and over gnarled roots. She had long since forgotten where she was running to, or how long she had been running through the labyrinthine Khu-Rung jungle, or even most of the people she had left behind. And yet she dared not stop; not to rest, not to assess her surroundings, nor to look back for the others who had started running with her. All of this was because of the one thing she couldn’t forget: what - or rather who - she was running from.

The being she ran from was only known as ‘The Ocelot.’ Nobody could agree on what exactly The Ocelot looked like, since nobody had seen it yet and lived to tell their story. It was said that, if you were close enough to see it, it was close enough to kill you. Why it killed was also little more than speculation. The only thing people knew about it was that it had a humanoid form, because only humanoid footprints were left at the scene of its slaughters. It was for this reason that inhabitants of Khu-Rung were strongly encouraged to travel in groups whenever possible. If The Ocelot was sensible or at least logical, a big enough group would convince it to not attack and look for an easier quarry. If it wasn’t, well, at least you weren’t forced to die alone.

Were it not for Tai, perhaps Ling would have stayed to try and protect her fellow travelers. As a lifelong nomad, she was raised to value the people she traveled with, and to stand up to them knowing they would do the same for her. Perhaps standing up to The Ocelot might not have accomplished much, but she would have died feeling less guilty than she currently did.

And yet, Ling still ran. For all the remorse she had over leaving behind the other travelers, she knew deep down that protecting her daughter was her top priority. Tai was old enough to walk, but certainly not old enough to even attempt to run away on her own. To Ling, her child was more precious than anything else in the world, so when The Ocelot appeared she reacted accordingly. Tai’s father Mingze offered to try and create a diversion to buy the two some time, and while Ling didn’t necessarily agree with the plan she was too panicked to really object. She hoped that her comrades would forgive her in the next life, whatever it looked like - she didn’t bother to consider if they would be the first to survive one of these encounters. But before she could stop to request their forgiveness, she needed to get to safety, even if she couldn’t picture in her mind what safety looked like or which way it was. So, Ling ran.

After some considerable length of time, perhaps hours or even a day, Ling felt her legs ever so slightly begin to fail her. She was still keeping as fast a pace as she could manage, but fatigue was catching up with her. She was tripping over roots and stumbling into deep patches of mud. While she knew how to steady herself without too much delay, she was still slowing down, and the noise behind her was enough to tell her that The Ocelot was gaining on her. Crushed foliage, booming stomps, and a cacophony of animals prey and predator alike running away in distress. Somewhat slow, yet consistent and with no signs of slowing down, like a trained hunter waiting for their prey to tire themselves out of putting up a fight. As much as Ling dreaded it, she knew she would have to make a choice soo-

- “Mama? Mama!”

Ling stopped dead in her tracks, almost falling over in the process. That was Tai’s voice! She had been so focused on running, it seemed she’d been tuning out everything else in the process. She could now hear her daughter, crying out for her attention in between frightful sobs. Taking a mere moment to center herself, assess her surroundings, and then focus back on Tai, she darted behind a tree while keeping her daughter held in her arms. Probably not enough to hide from The Ocelot for good, but perhaps enough to buy them some time. In as calm of a voice as she could muster, she whispered, “Mama’s here, my little dragon. Everything is going to be okay-”

- “But what about Papa? Where is he, where is everyone else? Where are we?”

“...” Ling wracked her brain to think of something, anything, to reassure Tai (and maybe even herself) that things would be alright; that holding out hope would be worth it and they would survive in the end. The ever-increasing noise signaling The Ocelot’s approach did not do much to calm her nerves. Still, Ling knew she needed to do something and to do it fast; planning was going to take too much time, she had to do the best she could now. So, moving away from the tree, she carried Tai over to a bed of makeshift leaves, branches and vines. As far as she could see it was the best hiding spot possible for someone Tai’s size.

Gently lowering Tai to the ground while doing her best to suppress the tremble in her voice, Ling said, “Papa had to help some of our other friends. He’ll come back for us soon, but for now I need you to make a promise for Mama. Promise me you’ll be brave and wait here until the noise stops, and then start running as fast as you can. There is a monastery where Mama grew up which should be close; I know that they will take you in and help raise you while we’re away. They’ll help you grow big and strong, once you can find them. In return, I’ll promise that me and Papa will make it back to you; okay?”

“...Okay,” Tai stuttered out, holding back her tears to put on her ‘brave face.’ “But, where are you going?”

“I’m going back for Papa,” Ling answered, giving Tai a kiss on the forehead before turning back the way she came. “And I’m going to protect my little dragon.” 

Walking in the direction of the oncoming cacophony, Ling took the remaining time she had to catch her breath and regain her strength. Once she’d regained some semblance of a second wind, she pulled out a khyber knife from its sheath at her back. She dropped down into a combat stance she remembered from her time in the local monastery, hoping she retained enough of her training to put up a fight at least. The noise ceased, giving Ling a moment of pause before she beheld The Ocelot in their entirety for the first time.

It would seem the theories about The Ocelot were rather accurate, Ling noted as she studied her opponent. The Ocelot was indeed humanoid, with the bulky frame and green skin typical of an orc. Their face was covered with ghastly scars, one in particular running from the cheek across the mouth to leave them in a permanent scowl. They wore a cloak made of various animal furs stitched haphazardly together, under which was a tattered robe which was worn and cut to the point of barely holding itself together. The clothing was covered with blood stains, but it did not seem like any of it was theirs. Over their shoulder, they hefted a massive polearm which Ling suspected was much longer than she was tall.

“So, you’ve finally stopped running. Ready to finally accept your inevitable end?” The Ocelot spoke, in a surprisingly calm tone despite their deep grumble of a voice. Their eyes scanned over Ling, though it was difficult to tell what they were looking for. The blank expression on their face betrayed no emotion.

“It’s not inevitable,” Ling countered, as much to herself as to The Ocelot. She didn’t expect to kill this monster that nobody in Khu-Rung had even survived, but if she was going to face it she would do so with confidence. Flipping her knife into a reverse grip, she added, “This is only the end if I say it is; and right now I say I’ve got some fight left in me.’

The Ocelot let out a primal snarl, their gnarled face then twisting into a wicked grin. Drawing their spear, they responded, “Now that’s the spirit.”

Lunging forward, The Ocelot thrusted their spear forward towards Ling’s head. Ling ducked and stepped to the side as the spear lodged itself in a tree trunk. She moved to stab at The Ocelot’s unarmored midsection, but before she could get in range, they had already pulled the spear out and knocked over a tree in the process. How can something so massive be so fast at the same time? Ling thought to herself with a shock. Scrambling to adapt, she opted for a quick slash at The Ocelot’s leg before ducking back to a neutral range, but not before taking a grazing blow to the side for her troubles.

The Ocelot advanced once more, swinging her spear down from over her head in an attempt to crush Ling below it. Ling barely managed to sidestep the attack, this time landing a quick cut above her assailant’s eyes, hoping that the bleeding would obscure their vision. She considered going for another attack, but now that she knew how fast this monster recovered, she leapt back just in time to evade another devastating swing of the spear.

The snarl the Ocelot had previously let out deepened into a low growl, as they eyed Ling with a cold fury. “You’ve lasted longer than most,” The Ocelot noted, briefly lowering their spear in a somewhat taunting gesture. “And if nothing else, I can admire your tenacity. Tell me, what do you keep fighting for when you know you’re going to die?”

“I have someone to protect back home…” Ling answered, choosing her words carefully to suggest that Tai was further away than she was. With a scowl, she continued, “and I have someone to avenge right here!”

The Ocelot responded with a roaring laugh before returning to their combat position, with a look of wild elation on their face. “Hearing my prey say such things never gets old.”

This time, Ling dared to strike before The Ocelot could make a move. Feinting another slash at their legs, she instead narrowly parried The Ocelot’s counter-attack and directed the spear down into the muddy ground. While she had a split second of an opening, she ran her knife into their abdomen and pushed it in as far as she could. The Ocelot released a pained roar, which gave Ling a moment of hope and confidence before the back end of the spear struck her right in the temple. The blow rang in her head with a resounding echo, blurring her vision and leaving her thoroughly disoriented. Stumbling back, she struggled to regain her bearings and reclaim her weapon, only to realize it remained lodged in The Ocelot’s stomach. Rising to their feet, The Ocelot pulled the blade out from her wound without even a flinch, and began stalking over towards Ling.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” The Ocelot drawled, slowly stepping forwards as Ling clumsily stumbled back to a safe distance. “I genuinely can’t remember the last time someone landed that hard of a hit on me. Certainly wasn’t whoever you wanted to avenge,” punctuated with a grim laugh. “Since you’ve gone through the effort of putting up a real fight, I think I’ll grant you this concession; if you want to say your last words, now’s your chance.”

As her vision still remained blurred, Ling struggled to orient herself in the direction The Ocelot’s voice came from. In lieu of a weapon, she raised her fists and mustered all the venom in her voice she could to spit out, “One day you’ll be where I am now. One day one of your ‘prey’ will bite back a bit too hard, and you’ll be the one left scrambling for your life. And on that day, everything you’ve done to all these innocent people will come back to you tenfold.”

“A bold assumption that anyone in this world is innocent,” The Ocelot mocked. “Still, as far as threats go, I’ve heard far worse.” With that, they charged at Ling with her own knife in their hand, impaling her through the chest and pinning them against a tree. 

While making sure that the blade was well and truly stuck inside of the bark, The Ocelot said to Ling, “I’d love to stay and watch you die, but you’re definitely not the only straggler left from your caravan. So I’ll head back to finish whoever is still there, and if you somehow survive after that I’ll gladly end your suffering.” 

After they turned and walked away, Ling struggled to pull the knife loose, but found she had too little strength left to free herself. Feeling her consciousness fade away, she looked up at the sky as raindrops began to fall on her head. To nobody in particular, or maybe whoever could hear, Ling gasped out, “Tai, my little dragon, the monster is gone. Mama and Papa will have to go too, but that just means you’ll need to be brave for a bit longer. But now, little dragon, I need you to run.”

The last of Ling’s life fleeting away, Ling could see nothing besides the jungle’s foliage, and could feel nothing but the raindrops on her face. She did hear one thing that stood out though, as she took her last breath; the sound of crushed leaves against the ground, getting steadily further and further away from her. And it sounded like running.

@ettawritesnstudies