Empress of Mars: Undisputed @zebratron2084@awoo.space

@Austin_Dern *bows*

@zx3

there are two wolves inside of you.

one is drinking a piña colada at...

*theater-hooked off stage*

@xinjinmeng I feel ya, it's MUCH more difficult for me as long as I'm Celexa. I coud really use a good long therapeutic cry, just to catch up with the last five years.

i am especially proud of the awfulness of the "suckling from pink pert middle age" line, i think the great k-strass[1] himself would approve

[1] aka the "proto-colin," look him up

Found the @desc for Beige-Tedium. Irritating fucked up line breaks left in on purpose. <3

Efficiently groomed from the tips of his angular ears to the tidy
brush of his tail, this beige-furred mink's features practically
clamor to avoid your interest. His headfur is faintly longer than that
on his body, grey at the temples, slicked back with an oily sheen of
hair tonic. His brow is creased from his permanent disapproving scowl.
Perched on the bridge of his muzzle, his thick trifocals shatter and
distort his face, but at least they hide his crow's feet. His posture
is impeccable, indulging in none of the unseemly slouches or lazy sways
characteristic of his species. If life were a breast, he'd be suckling
right from pert, pink middle age.

He wears a three-piece suit, ruthlessly purged of dust and lint. The
jacket is PC-tower beige, straight off the rack, but he seems to wear
it well -- so well, indeed, that it's hard to imagine him in anything
else. His shirt is white and unremarkable, and the cuffs partially
conceal the mink's sole interesting trait: the backs of his paws are
each tattooed with several black squares in an orderly grid. Of course,
he's also wearing a digital watch, that's kind of neat too. His tie
is solid grey, a shade approximately 0.1% more festive than that of
his jacket. His charcoal-colored pants have been meticulously ironed
to a level of smoothness previously achieved only in select military
aviation components. His feet are crammed into a smartly polished pair
of black wingtips.

In summary, he is twenty-six lines and two-hundred ninety words long,
with an average word length of 3.61. His @desc is fully 19% more
efficient than his player's typical @desc from the year 2000 -- a
most promising outlook for the coming quarter.

on this day in 1997 scott aukerman invented purple gravy

this is canon

I just remembered that I was Colin Robinson long before there was a Colin Robinson.

OK, story time. I'll try to keep it brief[1].

I had a friend on Tapestries named White-Delirium. She had a reputation as a troublemaker. She was a white mink girl in a bloody black rubber butchers apron. She was like Harley Quinn written by David Lynch. I adored her. I was also a good friend of her player in real life. They were practically my little sib.

Well, she developed a social circle/VR polycule around herself and everybody wanted a [color+psychological affliction/adolescent emotion] mink. Red Vengeance and Blue Malice or whatever the fuck, IK don't remember the actual names.

And they not only kinda missed a lot of what made WD charming, they actually had DRAMA over who got to be a mink and who didn't.

Well, I knew I had implicit permission to fuck around with White's character. She had even asked me to help destroy the minks once.

So.

Beige-Tedium.

I didn't call him that at the time, but in retrospect I set out to create the greatest energy vampire that TapestriesMUCK had ever seen, as a blatant satire of the other minks.

He would just go into the kinkiest rooms on Tapestries and read the newspaper and drink coffee, in lavish multi-paragraph poses. If someone tried to have a conversation with him, he'd ramble at them about bus trips and bowling techniques and modal jazz until asked in any way to stop.

I would only do this in a dead-quiet room and would politely defer to real conversation or RP... unless the political content or people involved annoyed me. I never said I was a saint. n.n

And I had the time of my fucking life. People were actually really fun and supportive about it, and I went out of my way to give hints that this was a big goof and everybody was invited to play along.

And those fucking baby minks WELCOMED Beige as their uncle. They LOVED him, those little bastards. They were all so ready for the furry RP Shaggs[2]. The plan totally backfired.

[1] oops
[2] http://www.warr.org/odds.html#POTW

There is no greater mood booster than having a cat that's been AWOL for a week suddenly show up her old grumpy self. Sugarfoot finally revealed herself to Peg this morning after a long walkabout.

Peg tried to give her a scritch and welcome her home. She hissed and air-swatted at her. That's our girl. *sigh* <3

(She did mewl at me and deign to accept a scritch when I left for the cafe.)

@JulieSqveakaroo Love the bubble-braid!

noelle is having a rough morning

i better get her some coffee

Huh. Well, you're in an energetic mood today, Dawn. What's with all the fireballs?

Guess it's time to get up off my ass and try to find something useful to do

@LexYeen horsebikes are kind of a kink-adjacent mood right here

@anthracite

CAPTIONED FOR THE HOT SAUCERMAN IMPAIRED:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s1qdnOMLWS8

@Phorm (Intriguingly, Sweet Cuppin Cakes is NOT immune to Westphall-like effects. However, it's already taking place inside of a jar of ranch dressing in Senor Cardgage's fridge and thus can not enter The Snowglobe.)

@Phorm That is a good point. It's not so much that the HRverse never crosses over with anything else, though, but that it never turns malignant and will never trap them inside that snowglobe. But now that you mention it, I wonder if the awesome burnination power of Mighty Trogdor might not also be a factor...

Or could it be? Could this all be the gift of the S Is For Sucks Dragon? What a twist ending!

Headcanon: Homestar Runner's world is almost completely[1] immune to the Tommy Westphall Virus[2].

The exact source of this protective effect is unknown, but is suspected to be a combination of factors including: (a) high continuity (b) low canon consistency (c) well-mediated contact with our reality via the Lappy et al (d) a 30-year waiting period for most "RL" media references (e) some unknown property of Strong Sad's "Blue Ones"[3] and (f) Garbledina[4].

[1] Free Country did test positive during a routine TWV exam[5] in 2003, but did not develop any symptoms except for Shark-Tooth Bubs.

[2] named for Tommy Westphall, a disabled child from a TV series that turned out to be taking place entirely as his dying dream; the "virus" brings every other fictional universe his show crosses over with into the same collapsing reality bubble -- yes, our reality is theoretically inside of it!

[3] if you don't know, you probably shouldn't ask 😱​

[4] GRAW MAD! GRAAAAW MAD! DARRRRRRRRGH!

[5] Also headcanon: these TWV examinations are administered free of charge as a charitable service by Mr. Peabody. Yes, that Mr. Peabody-- or at least, one of his 12 regenerations![6]

[6] You do NOT want to fuck with the War Peabody. (Whispered rumor has it that the one on television was the War Peabody.)

@Phorm Thought so. Was tempted to @ you. <3

@001zlnv I mean, Rezy and Valis are both From Space. They can get up on any given morning, log into an app (open source, of course-- we killed all the VC fuckers centuries ago), and put their stripes wherever they damn well please.

Well, those are some style goals right there.

https://imgur.com/gallery/twCRAWx#kWPA6Wk

And just as I'm thinking of reviving Kincaid the lavavixen...