I Mean From A Certain Point Of View It Makes Sense. Think About It:

I mean from a certain point of view it makes sense. Think about it:

• You can't join the ABB unless your Asian

• You can't join Empire 88 unless your white and bigoted

• You can't join Coil unless your ex military

• Faultline's crew don't seem to recruit henchmen unless you count Gregor's delivery boy

• The Undersiders also don't recruit henchmen until after the leviathan attack

That leaves you with either Uber and Leet or The Merchants. Both of whom are pretty shitty options all things considered

Uber and Leet had minions???

I feel like Worm sort of abandoned the idea of casual minion joining (as in, sort of open secret) until the S9. Which makes sense, because joining a supervillain to help them commit crimes is, uh, illegal and you wouldn't want that spreading around. Which makes it odd to see it here so early

The background detail about how the absurd jockeying, politicking, and posthumous stunts at the post-endbringer funeral services forced the cape community to come up with the most non-denominational, non-specific memorial monument possible in order to avoid a media clownshow every three months, and that they’ve now got a warehouse full of these obelisks ready to get inscribed with the names of the fallen and deployed at the attack sites before the fires are completely out- this is, not exactly parody, but it is, like. Deeply deeply deeply fucking funny. 

Tragic! And an excellent synedoche for the larger co-ordination problems and ingrained cynical fatalism facing the setting. But also darkly funny, and in a way enabled by the logic of the superhero tropes in play even though it’s hard to read it as an attack on any specific trope.

Have you ever read Worm? I hear it's good.

i think during pride month we should instead be promoting important and empowering works of queer art such as Ward

Me after listeningto TMAGP 20: hah! Who would be that obsessed with views and likes? How shallow of Ink5oul!

Tumblr: Here's a timeline and graph of how little attention you got over the past week. Loser.

Me: ...

sad sopping wet Sylvester Sunday

“I’m not getting enough details here to paint a picture.  I trust the hell out of you, but I’m not sure this is you, Taylor.”

I pocketed my phone, then reached into my belt.  I hesitated for an instant, then pressed my hand to my chest for long seconds.  I knew I didn’t have time to spare, but…  no.  I didn’t have time to spare.

I opened a portal twenty feet above Tattletale, then opened my hand.  The little tube of pepper spray dropped through the portal.  Tattletale caught it.

“You couldn’t have made it easy?”  Tattletale asked, looking down at it.