OSP Red, Over On Her Tumblr Blog Comicaurora, Posted A Brilliant And Refreshingly Frank Analysis Of "Fable

@is-it-a-man But... if Amaury Guichon makes himself a really, really good pair of wings out of chocolate...

I swear to god one of these days were going to see a video of Amaury Guichon and he's going to be making some wings and they are going to look dope as hell, the detail of each feather will be breathtaking, he'll spray paint them to perfection, but as the video goes on, he's not building any sort of winged creature, just the wings. And then there's a human-sized harness (also made of chocolate, somehow, he can do it). And he's attaching the wings to the harness. And he's putting the harness on and he demonstrates how he can flap the wings. And then he'll be off. Out the window and up and up and up. And we'll be looking at the livestream (it's a livestream now) and we'll scream "No, Amaury, the sun! It's going to melt the wings!". But he knows this already. And he is free.

The OP demonstrates something I've been noticing: our society treats homeless people as casteless unpersons.

Without even realizing it, we automatically categorize anyone who seems to be living on the street as an undesirable thing, best neither seen nor heard, and taboo to interact with.

Increasingly, this is how government and law enforcement are treating them.

Until we change our society's attitude towards homelessness, until a person's living arrangements are no longer seen as a reflection of their character or nature, the only change we can accomplish will be palliative.

"AnechoicMedia" deserves a good blog-lashing from @cavegirlpoems.

Oh, good, this is one post I don't have to make myself! Thank you!

As for Moxxie, I think he'd probably want the kid, but wouldn't be realistic or mature about it. We've rarely seen that side of him not being Played For Laughs, but he can be obsessive, overly sentimental, and tends to overthink things excessively. I think Millie needs to emotionally process this news, and come up with a game plan, before she tells Moxxie.

But like @uselessalexis165 wrote, couples can have unplanned pregnancies, as in, they are completely unprepared to raise a child. And this is Hell, not Earth. And they're imps. The idea that there's a safety net for unprepared imp parents is... a bit of a stretch.

As other people are pointing out this week, any pregnancy can be scary. Millie might just be terrified and... well, not overreacting, but reacting extremely.

Y’all, it hasn’t even been a day yet and some people are already theorizing that Millie cheated on Moxxie and that the baby isn’t his

You guys do realize that married couples can experience unplanned pregnancies, right?

Or, that maybe Millie is worried about how having a baby could affect her job?

Shit, maybe she’s worried that she won’t be a good parent if she does decide to keep it because of her own family issues

I could even go as far to say that maybe she’s worried if she does decide to keep the baby, something could go wrong and the baby ends up dying during the pregnancy

And I’m just saying all of this without knowing what Moxxie’s point of view is going to be like

Is there a trope for a character with a phrophecy but rather than it being like: you’re gonna do something great, it instead foretells them to do something awful.

Closest official TVTropes entry is the "Apocalypse Maiden", an innocent person who's very unhappy about being prophecied to unleash some apocalyptic horror.

beavers have the lifestyle that most children dream of. dig and travel through underwater canals. dam a river and flood the local woodlands. stomp mud into dam to seal. swim to flooded trees and destroy them. live in a secret hideout with a underwater entrance. full ownership over an engineering project

I only figured out how to tell in late 2019, great timing, then it took me some time to learn to disambiguate between "thinks I'm cute" and "wants to do something about it," and I still have no idea how to signal anything back or how else to respond

And meanwhile I am just dying every time I re-evaluate weird old memories in light of the parts of the code that I have managed to break

“they were flirting with you” and how was i supposed to know such a thing when everyone speaks in codes and puzzles

I’ve rewatched my fav film, Dr. Strangelove.

As a matter of fact...

A well-known fixture of the Arcanokinetics department of the College of Arcana at the University of Celestial Secrets is a stuffed plush rabbit, of the kind colloquially called a "bunny friend," the Haradine cultural equivalent of a Teddy bear.

It sits - or rather, slumps - on a plinth in the middle of the main lecture hall, and is used as a demonstration and practice target for spells. Many, many spells. It is patched and fraying and threadbare and stained, and has a small embroidered College of Arcana emblem sewn to its chest where a Reader would have his badge. All and sundry call it "M'lord Bun," and address it and refer to it as if it were a fiefholding lord and member of the faculty.

M'lord Bun is occasionally repaired or reverted, from his many misadventures, by members of the Temporal department of the College. Only very rarely is he mended in the mundane fashion by skilled service staff.

The Lord Bun legend has grown over the centuries, to the point, in the 5th age, which the various funerals and "retirements" of unrecoverable Lord Buns are important historical landmarks in College lore, and M'lord Bun is now a senior member of the faculty, and officiates over certain ceremonies (notably the Japery in mid-March), and often joins the Deans in their viewing box or at high table for special occasions. A chain of office is nowadays embroidered around M'lord Bun's fluffy neck.

It is not strictly true that the Wizard Brismeister was given a Dire Notice of Censure for beheading Lord Bun in year 197 of the Fourth Age. The stated reason was, in fact, for "failing to maintain the decorum required of his position." Brismeister never again read arcanokinesis, or any other subject, at the University, despite remaining a Senior Reader of Arcana, and he resigned from his post in 201. His eponymized Whirling Blade spell, although adopted immediately at Sloeberries, was not taught at Celestial until 210.

Upon Lord Bun's magical beheading, the students in attendance declared him dead on the spot, and petitioned the Master to appoint a new Lord. That was the origin of the current M'lord Bun, who has greeted the arrival of the so-called Fifth Age with characteristic inscrutability.

Less magic schools. More magic universities. Unlearn the simplified models of your secondary education. Discover how to reference scrolls written by a wizard possessed by a different wizard. Identify bias in the voices that whisper from beyond the veil. Have your institution be accused of promoting a Merlinist agenda. Become addicted to energy potions.

Don Quixote, except it's a small child who runs away from home in order to have the kind of adventures that parent-less children in children's literature and media have.

Possibly their pet puppy or chicken or crow is their Sancho Panza. It doesn't really talk, but the kid's buried self-preservation instinct is projecting onto the pet in an attempt to reach the kid.

This is very close to the original concept behind Anguish Languish: words now have to be rationed, just like other war supplies. We have to make do with the words we have plenty of.

OK so my shitpost R&D department was researching the viability of a jocular analogy between national language regulators, war rationing, and soviet bread lines. This isn't a viable product right now so you'll have to just kind of imagine that it's funny, but the idea is, like, people are running out of words because they offshored development and then a war footing devastated international trade, so now there aren't enough words to go around and the government is publishing all these posters encouraging people not to waste them. The government has stepped into nationalize word production and distribution but because all the best words are going to the Posters on the war front, the public has to spend hours in line just to get a random selection of words that they can hardly use. People have to find a way to smuggle in illegal foreign words or rely on unsafe home-brewed vocabulary while repurposing all the new words for munitions and war strategy to talk about groceries and romance. Barter dominates, especially in the provinces, as people try to scrounge together a functional vocabulary to educate their children.

Anyway I'm dropping it because I realized that while this is hard to make into a good joke, it would actually be a fantastic strategy/puzzle game. Someone go make that!