Idea: Superhero rp but every superpower has to be a unnecessarily specific fetish taken from a 1x1 thread
16
likes
6 yrs ago
joining a roleplay can have the same stress of applying for a job except its better cause instead of bagging groceries you get to be a cute gay anime cat girl who goes to magic school
31
likes
6 yrs ago
*tackleglomps u and nuzzles* X3 *notices bulge in ur pants* OwO wats dis???
4
likes
6 yrs ago
does anybody in this thread smoke weed
12
likes
6 yrs ago
The thrill of doing seventy different code edits without saving and then not knowing whether your post looks cute or like an exploded cumbox
7
likes
Bio
YOU JUST GOT HIT BY ¶▅c●▄███████||▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅|█ ▄██THE YAOI TANK███▅▄▃▂ █████████████████████► ◥☼▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙☼◤
I like rats, jalapeño poppers, y2k aesthetics and idol games. I am pretty extroverted on the internet due to how easy it is to connect with people with similar interests. My personality may come across as aggressively friendly or over the top at times and I apologize in advance for that, whoops.
As for my strange signatures and profile pictures, a lot of them are a part of a specific aesthetic I´ve developed over the years that's basically 2000s aesthetics with a focus on the technology that explore themes of loss, abandonment, filth, and hopelessness, rather than the optimistic and mainstream view of the future that was common during that period of time.
Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria
Alex watched as more wayfarers made their way into the hall, each brimming with a level of vibrance he'd never seen in people back in the real world. One of his brother's friends had cynically said something about that once, about people using games to get away with being the worst version of themselves. Alex had disagreed then and he disagreed now. Singing, free food, banter, and all from a group of people who were mostly strangers. To him, this was what people could really be, outside of a society that forced them to fit into small boxes. He knew that better than anyone else.
His enthusiasm leaked into his posture and grin, even as the man sitting closest to him tried to put a damper on things.
"Of course I do blind runs, dude," he affirmed quickly, cutting his bout of laughter short. It felt like he was being put on the spot. "I've been sticking around my brother's guild a lot. They're into this gaming stuff, so they've been teaching me the ropes for raids like this one." Though he could only faintly process it, he felt that hadn't been the most reassuring thing to tell a couple of players more experienced than him. At least, if any of his previous quibbles with anyone who took this thing seriously were any indication.
The siblings continued their lighthearted quarreling, until they at last remembered he was there. "Hah, yeah, I sew a lot on here. I'm more of a woodworking guy, but robes and leather are what people pay for. End up with a nice amount of cash to buy gear with," he replied to the sister of the duo.
His eyes had been avoiding her, but the topic had basically made it impossible. Kalie Augustine, one of the bigger fish in the clothing world. He'd seen her wares at the markets, the jaw-dropping brocade and lace being put into them. It made his designs look like ornamental sacks of potatoes. He had a more utilitarian way of going about things, so their customers rarely overlapped. Still, he couldn't help but be mesmerized, as even the way she walked through the hall carried the same level of elegance as her work. Had he been a bit more entranced, he might not have even noticed her approaching them.
"...sounds good!" he sputtered out, snapped out of focus by the giant woman named Alja. Before he could ask her what she meant by a servant of evil, she had marched off, leaving him to awkwardly chuckle to himself.
Kalie introduced herself after, keeping up her act. He always wondered what was going on inside the minds of these dedicated roelplaying types. Didn't it get tiring pretending to be someone else? That was his main reason for having joined Pariah at least, escaping from that chore. "My name's Alex. I'm not big on roleplaying, no... but that doesn't make me a newcomer!" he blurted, after fully processing what she had just said.
Location: Wayfarer's Retreat -- The City of Thorinn, Aetheria
Alex had been something of an outlier in his brother's guild ever since the start of his adventures in Pariah. Logan and co. were actual gamers, with years and even decades of experience under their belts. Alex was sure they'd already been acquainted with this world more than the real one, geography and history and women and all. Their little PvE guild had taken Alex in as an auxiliary member under his brother's request, and he could tell he was starting to overstay his welcome.
But no more. This mysterious dungeon would be his rite of passage, the proof that he was finally able to stand on his own two feet. Even as he took tense steps towards the faction hall, fantasies of finally earning everyone's respect ran through his mind. This little stint would be a secret to them until he got out of that dungeon a changed man.
His arms stretched outwards, and he gently opened the door to the retreat as he beamed with joy. His hands, adorned with beautiful gauntlets matching his elegant archer's attire, made sure to gingerly close the door behind him so as to make a wonderful first impression.
And then he saw the other wayfarers.
Muscles. Big, bulging, scary muscles. Weapons a size men couldn't- and shouldn't have been able to wield, weighing more than Alex did. Tankards of beer being raised to hardened faces. Even the ones that weren't ginormous carried an identical level of swagger, with some intimidating facial expression or bizarre weapon on their person. Conversations were happening, not very pleasant ones if their tones were anything to go by.
A nerve-wracking sight, definitely. But he was dead set on doing this.
"Uh... hey guys! We're all here for the raid thing right?" He asked, getting close to the surprisingly large group with a hop to his step. He pulled his chair out slowly, so as to not damage the floor by scraping it harshly, and sat with a grin on his face.
Full Name - Alexis Barnett Age - 20 Place of Origin - Alberta, Canada Occupation - Freelance artist
A V A T A R
Character's Name - Alex Pathos Affiliation - Drox Role - Ranged DPS Profession - Craftsman Weapon of Choice - Bow Domains - Wind / Conjuration, Enhancement -
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Frenetic With a pep to his step and a patter permanently engraved in his speech, Alex is the sort of person to always be doing something, and desperately crave doing something whenever nothing’s going on. His impatience and eagerness can sometimes get the best of him, but he sees them as a double-edged sword, with many of the best moments in his life originating from decisions with no foresight involved.
His hobbies are hands-on, creative activities that reign him in well. Carpentry, plastic arts, sewing, anything that gets the gears in his brain spinning and keeps him busy.
Frank Alex likes to talk. A lot. It’s something not everyone discovers, as he is outstandingly awkward during first encounters. The people who’ve stuck around, however, eventually realize he doesn’t have a voice in his head telling him to stop. He overshares, states what shouldn’t be stated, and asks all the questions someone his age would agonize over but ultimately suppress out of a fear of looking foolish. None of this is ever done intentionally, he just marches to the beat of his own drum.
Adaptable Not everyone can dive into the world of freelance art and make a decent profit, and not everyone can toss themselves into the commercial thunderdome of a virtual reality game and come out friends with various NPC denizens and enough money to leave the combat to his brother’s guild half the time. Alex’s impulsive ideas aren’t easy to trust from an outsider’s perspective, but he finds himself succeeding where others would fail through high energy and a good work ethic. Conflict with others rarely bothers him as well, and he often finds himself spearheading cooperation with the people he’s warmed up to.
B E N C H M A R K S
I can't die if they don't hit me, buddy Rather than protect himself with anything bulky, Alex has instead opted to use a combination of light armors, long range attacks and solid athleticism as a means of avoiding damage. This newfound athleticism, consisting of speed and reflexes, helps him duck and weave through blows that would have otherwise sent him soaring.
Jack of all arts and crafts Alex's craftsmanship had already been passable prior to his introduction to Pariah, but the game has now given him ample time and resources to cut loose. While not an expert in any one field, he's found a niche making light armor and robes. The finished pieces aren't on the same level of glamour as what other crafting wayfarers can offer, but hey, it works.
Quantity over quality Alex's signature ability is being able to fire arrows in disturbingly rapid succession, tearing opponents to shreds. This leaves him vulnerable when taken to machine gun-like extremes, however. His combat style plays off this ability for the most part, favoring fast and powerful arrows over anything slow.
Heads or tailwinds His domain over wind allows him to rely on small bursts of it in and out of combat. Whether helping him jump a bit higher or throw off a lighter opponent's balance, he's managed to find couple of utilitarian uses for it besides thrusting his arrows.
Physical Description
Alexis Barnett’s appearance had always been underwhelming and… begrudging, to sum it up in a word. Brown hair kept at medium length as a concession with the rest of the world, minimal cosmetics, the occasional cardigan or modest skirt in between rows of jackets and jeans. Shirts, too, followed a similar goal. Shirts that a woman would reasonably wear, at a size baggy enough to conceal a small bust.
Accessories, if any, were always tossed on haphazardly, as last minute additions spurred less by their wearer and more by questioning family and friends. That’s not to say they were a bad thing. You could wear the baggy and dull clothing you wanted, Alex discovered, if you wore enough pink jewelry to shut people up.
Alex has been pessimistically aware of his appearance since adolescence, so it’s no surprise to see that his avatar in Pariah has a lot in common with his real self, from his height and frame down to the color of his hair and eyes. His features could be described as "pleasantly average", a likely result of him wishing to not stand out and blend in. Within Pariah he dislikes wearing anything that restricts his movement and regularly wears comfortable merchant’s clothing, as it’s extravagant enough to signal his wayfarer status to others without having to adopt any of the flashy accessories everyone else seems to be so fond of.
Pariah’s avatar system was keen enough to pick up on Alex's true feelings and assign him a male body, a contrast to real life. That ended up being a fun thing to explain to his brother Logan. Or in his own words, "Shit."
Character Conceptualization
While it could be said that the bulk of Pariah’s playerbase had been well acquainted with the conventions of video games, Alex was an exception. Dragged into it by his older brother, he accepted with lukewarm enthusiasm, more interested in the prospect of untouched nature or trying his hand at art made through a new kind of medium. Logan would do the embarrassing tryhard LARP shenanigans he always did with his friends whenever a new competitive game came out, and Alex would go for walks in the woods and do medieval arts and crafts. That had more or less been the plan, until Logan dragged Alex into another one of his games again, the world of PvE.
Under his care, Alex learned the ins and outs of the “glasscannon” “ranged DPS” “kit” his brother orchestrated for him, with the understanding that Alex would leave for a guild more suited to his interests past a certain point.
Despite his initial insecurities he adapted quickly to Pariah. He focused on crafting armor to support himself financially, on the days he wasn’t being made to train or serve as an auxiliary member to their guild’s activities. Mostly robes for the magically inclined, but he began stepping into leathers and furs as he grew bored of doing too much of the same thing. In time, he began to make a name for himself among the denizens and wayfarers of Pariah.
It felt silly to admit it, but he was starting to understand his brother and every other player that was using the game to live their biggest fantasies. Having so many people finally appreciate your art, even if it was mostly just clothing after a while, was a thrill he had never anticipated.
Spells & Spell-like Abilities
Conjuration fletching Conjuration ability that allows the user to create an arrow out of arcane energy for next to no energy expenditure. This ability can be "charged" to create a stronger arrow, but is slightly more demanding as a result and requires more time to employ.
Forest hunter Conjures a heavier arrow with a tip that expands into a net. Can trap entities that are roughly humanoid and smaller for a limited amount of time. The conjured net dissipates after receiving enough damage.
Blowback roulette Envelops the user in a small shield of wind for a very brief moment. Any projectile or magic attacks that hit them during the shield's duration will instead transfer into the ability of their next arrow.
Heads or tailwinds A burst of powerful high-velocity wind channeled from the user's body. Used to make an arrow travel faster and hit harder, or simply help the user move. Can be used to throw an opponent off-balance, although physical contact is mandatory for this. Can be channeled for longer-lasting effects, with the consequence that it will exhaust its user far more.
Other Information
Although technically a member of his brother's guild, there's friction between its competitive bloodthirsty members and Alex, who only joined to learn the ropes. Alex is expected to leave after having proven himself capable enough.
Of course, traveling by horseback. Another staple of storybooks, another difference between his former life and his current one. Kaito was sure he wasn't the only one with no experience riding horses, as Japan wasn't the sort of country where one could acquire both large animals or space easily. It seemed tame and even romantic compared to all of the previous hardships they had faced, although he knew it was a discipline, one that wasn't going to come without its hardships.
"No... I'm sure none of us have ridden horses, at least properly and not as a novelty done in fairs. Our home used machines for transportation. Machines for almost everything, actually." He felt the explanation was simple enough.
Some of what Hiroko said had stayed in his thoughts, and he gave her a cautious glance as he continued. "If riding a horse is considered a skill, there is a possibility we could develop some affinity for it just as we did with this land's language." It wasn't just combat they had been gifted proficiency in, he was thinking.
Tossing the weight of her body and armor off the carriage in a single ragged motion, the soles of Ludith's boots slammed against the packed snow like hooves. Her legs tensed and her shoulders twisted, eyes shifting from face to wandering face. For a brief moment she felt relieved at leather allowing her to stretch so well. The hunt was about pursuit. Anything bulkier belonged to a prey animal.
The blur of snow and grime took a more solid shape the harder she looked, and once more she found herself on edge. Too many things she was unaware of, too many possible threats and snares. The whinnying of a horse at the passing of a guard, alerting the pack of young boys near him to stand straighter, catching the eye of a woman nearby. Bonds like that intersected and weaved around her, making her head thrum in discomfort if she focused too long. The words her companions shared wore on her as well, conversations on topics that eluded her. Only the sensation of discomfort on the freezing tips of her fingers grounded her. Sensations like that were good. They reminded her who she was, what she was doing. It was a balance, though. Too easy to be overly wary, get dragged increasingly farther away from the world around her. Shifting images of beasts would begin forming at the edges of her thoughts, wet fangs snapping and digging deeper into her skull in a flurry of sensations that were part memory and part threat.
She let out a loud grunt, enough to clear her throat and set a fat puff of fog billowing from her mouth. Things needed to be done. No time for that. "Putting anything to your lips without knowing what it is is a bad idea," she told Gudrik. It was meant as a forced attempt at conversation, but her dry demeanor tended to sour her words.
When it came to her line of work, Ludith much preferred signposts and accosting guild attendants to these more ominous methods of chasing leads. She turned to Chip, and with the same lack of warmth, nodded. "You're either in a tavern to seek coin or lose it. Always best not to get comfortable if you're not after something." They were, for today. The sight of the bustling city didn't sit well in her gut. "Too much activity. Can't see how anyone here is going to remember a caravan."
“You have to find out how thick the tracks are first. Lets you know which knife to use.”
_______________________________________________ Ludith Harague _______________________________________________________________ 33 | Female | Human _______________________________________________________________ Chaotic Good | Rogue | Slayer _______________________________________________________________
▼ A T T R I B U T E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
► Warrior mindset - Pain is temporary. Blood coagulates. If you can't walk, crawl. Ludith is capable of stomaching through the macabre, so much so that the line between her and the beasts she hunts blurs with the approaching night. ► Cryptozoology - Experience in observation and physical combat with monsters has led her to develop an understanding for them that surpasses what rumors and faded journals are able to provide. ► Improvisation - One who hunts monsters needs to adapt as much as possible to their target, never getting too comfortable with any one weapon. Ludith mainly fights with a short sword and knives, but she's not above settling for anything she can get her hands on and swinging like a madwoman, with a level of strength that only desperation and hatred can produce. ► Courage - Ludith's willingness to fight extends beyond the slashing of a blade. She's not the sort of person to back down from harrowing odds, or bite her tongue if things don't seem right. Within physical combat, the various abnormalities of beasts will fail to faze her to same degree they would another. ► Good aim - As the sort of adventurer to be classified as a rogue, Ludith fights using melee weapons. She does, however, excel at throwing the occasional knife or improvised projectile if necessity demands it. -
▼ I N V E N T O R Y ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► Armor - Aside from the battered cuirass that's often the sole thing keeping her heart from being rabidly clawed out in front of her, Ludith's armor is leather above all else. Unlike most hunters the idea of adorning herself with parts of her kills repulses her, so it's fairly plain in appearance. ► Weapons - A short sword made of silver stolen from the vault of a great church. Rumors said it once belonged to a revered warrior of light, but she pays no mind to them. Several knives and a vial of poison meant for the more bestial monsters are hidden among flaps of cloth and leather. ► Coinpurse - Unimpressive and very ugly, its contents don't seem to fit with their container or their owner. The depths villagers are willing to go to for protection keep her fed, at least. ► Misc. Items - Ludith saves objects that once belonged to humans to bury them later. It's wise to preemptively put a soul to rest before even more abominations are birthed. Things like dolls or children's toys cause her a particular pain, no matter how many times she's had to safely dispose of them.
-
P E R S O N A L C H A R A C T E R
Ludith's upbringing at the outskirts of her hometown was a quiet affair. Life seemed to flow by as the years turned her from a little girl who needed a wooden stool to reach the cupboards to a woman who knew her way around a sword. Marriage, too, seemed to happen without any troubles, and before she knew it her and her husband welcomed their daughter into the world. It was perhaps then that seeing them torn apart by werewolves was what finally woke her up from her slumber. Now she's restless, eager to track down and kill what roams in the shadows, with or without anyone else's permission. No sleep, no peace. The nightmare never ends.
Ludith is a woman led by her impulses who finds regulations stifling. She feels more at home armed to the teeth in the forests than at any tavern and will throw herself into danger if it means culling the vile creatures that prowl at night. This has led her to become vigilant, though to a degree that can be detrimental. Survival is her priority above else, with no care for whatever bodily fluids stain her leather armor or how much spitting and kicking she needs to do to come out a victor in her battles.
She disregards anything directly unrelated to combat including the complexities of politics and magic. She'll reach out to assist anyone she's fighting with, but with the expectation that they return the favor down the line. For her, it's better to focus on her own talents than try to understand anyone else's. Unless they're an enemy.
Despite the rough edges to her personality, she is notably kind towards children, being understanding towards them and fighting like an animal when their lives are on the line.
F A V O R
Had it not been for that strange merchant intervening on the day she was caught stealing weapons from barracks, Ludith has no doubt that her head would have been rotting on a pole.
The concept of being indebted to another, especially some merchant of which she knows so little about has put her on edge somewhat. She can only hope whatever is asked of her won't lead to a grisly end.
Despite his recent developments in trusting others, teamwork was still something that got a raised eyebrow out of Octavio and not much else. This latest skirmish proved to be effective in nudging his mind once more though, as the guards were dispatched with a level of grace he didn't think multiple people could exhibit. The urge to congratulate everyone burst with the slamming of the door that stood between them and more opponents, if the noises were anything to go by.
Supposed to be grateful for the little things in life, he thought. He saw several of his party members rush towards the room to handle things with none of the stealth they were embodying before and opted to continue his foray elsewhere. Being in an enclosed space with multiple people talented in magic was never a good idea.
He quickly settled on one of his usual tactics for infiltration, one in which illusions would monitor an unknown area and alert him in the case of danger, like watchdogs that could double as either assassins or bait depending on who or what they stumbled on. Of course, he realized there was little point in graceful silence at this point, so he ran rather than skulked along, with his eyes set to the south. His standard illusion would maintain a consistent distance from him and ahead of him, and his poorly summoned one would stand guard outside the room until a better use for it came up.
It felt as if only a few brief moments had passed before it was all ruined. At hearing Chres shout, he whipped his neck just in time to see his party members on the receiving end of a magic attack, with his poorly made illusion sent sprawling. It hit him too, toppling his balance with surprising strength. With a groan he let the injured illusion unravel, as the combined injuries of the blast and their first fight had rendered it useless.
"You were never my favorite, anyway," he remarked. Little things, little things, all about the little things. The positive side to this, he was forcing himself to think, was that at least they now knew one of their opponents used tempraision magic. The negative side to this, he thought a second time, was that one of their opponents used tempraision magic.
Octavio stood and flourished a throwing knife alongside his remaining illusion, who rushed to his aid. Between the magic user and another guard, the two stood on edge as the rest of their party members got their bearings. "They've got magic and knowledge of our presence is due to start circulating like ballroom gossip. I think it would be a great idea if we all just started running, doesn't everyone agree?" To accentuate his point, his remaining illusion gave a thumbs up.
Kaito chuckled with a stiff edge to his voice. Hiroko was obviously joking, but having to eat strange things was a thought that encroached his mind and stayed there, as it just made too much sense. On the bright side, eating something foul would potentially be the simplest way of testing the talisman's power. Not that he was enthusiastic about it.
"I just didn't think it would've been helpful to think of this as a video game," he answered. The adult in him wanted to scold her over treating a life or death situation like something comparable to video games, but she was right. He'd never considered himself to be a stubborn man, yet it took a surprising amount of difficulty to speak. "Though I guess common sense would have led one to the same conclusion." He averted her eyes.
Their meal was delightfully simple. What would've no doubt been a miserable dining experience just twenty-four hours ago was now unmatched in terms of taste and nourishment.
"Odd jobs, something like hard labor?" he asked in between bites. None of them looked suited to that line of work, and he failed to think of anything else such an underdeveloped world would want. Unless...
"Or fighting. With our new abilites." The words hung in the air.
Octavio and his two illusions streaked through the ground like rabid dogs, making only the faintest traces of noise as they ran into the heat of battle. His second illusion, the one he had failed to give a complete form to, tailed its two allies, its features warped and its clothing lacking any of the finer details of its brethren. It was similar in appearance, albeit with features that could have been called distorted. It looked as if a foggy reflection were in motion.
The descent of his group onto their target was similar to the way pack animals ambushed and tore their prey apart. There was no definitive, single blow that signalled a beginning or end to their attack, rather an onslaught of flourished daggers against armor, probing one after the other in a frenzied hunt for bare skin. The second illusion had taken a supporting role, its weapon smudged and crude yet blunt enough to refuse being ignored. It fought harder than the rest, aiming for strikes to the head and legs, displaying no hesitation in hurting itself for the sake of hurting another. It hit the floor frequently, scrabbling and clawing its way up using whatever warm body was available, bruises spreading to every inch of its smudged shape in dark streaks.
The element of surprise was all a rogue needed to transform from a lowly scavenger into a far bigger menace as Heb would witness with his ally. Six pairs of lifeless eyes stared back at the other guard, three daggers each. A pair of throwing knives littered the ground around them in a smear of red and silver, like the metal bones of an animal they had devoured. A fight this unfair was when he was strongest, although Octavio took no pleasure in killing, so much so that it bled through into his illusions. It only took a stiff movement of the arm to break their hesitation, however, as the strongest of the two withdrew a stiletto knife and plunged it through sinew and flesh.
Clinging to the awareness of all his illusions amidst the sharp scent of blood and the plumes of dust that rose in the distance, it was hard for him to register what the pause in the remaining guard's movements meant. A change of plans now that he had three more opponents to deal with? Was he going to resume attacking Chres? Was it fear? Octavio couldn't quite tell through the haze of adrenaline and sensory information. He crouched and retrieved a throwing knife, which had missed its marked yet ended up splattered regardless.
"Surrounded by enemies, all by yourself," he uttered.
"Honami's game logic is right?" exclaimed Kaito, doing nothing to hide the dismay in his voice or the widening of his eyes and eyebrows. As if agreeing with him, his stomach gently protested at the mention of food. During a typical day of work it wasn´t uncommon for him to forget to eat. This wasn't a typical day of work.
His worries continued, focusing on the talisman of sacred wood that was now under his possession.
"I'm not sure what being a pure soul means in this context.", he mumbled.
Pure as in good? He liked to think of himself as a good person. Following the rules, never upsetting the status quo, obeying authority. Unless it meant purity in the context of being a virginal maiden, in which case he doubtlessly qualified. Women didn't like men who were more afraid of the spider in the bathroom than they were.
He had reached civilization at last and even got invited to eat, but for Kaito it felt like his troubles were only just beginning.
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I like rats, jalapeño poppers, y2k aesthetics and idol games. I am pretty extroverted on the internet due to how easy it is to connect with people with similar interests. My personality may come across as aggressively friendly or over the top at times and I apologize in advance for that, whoops.
As for my strange signatures and profile pictures, a lot of them are a part of a specific aesthetic I´ve developed over the years that's basically 2000s aesthetics with a focus on the technology that explore themes of loss, abandonment, filth, and hopelessness, rather than the optimistic and mainstream view of the future that was common during that period of time.
TALK 2 ME!!!!
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">YOU JUST GOT HIT BY<br>¶▅c●▄███████||▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅|█<br>▄██THE YAOI TANK███▅▄▃▂<br>█████████████████████►<br>◥☼▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙▲⊙☼◤<br><br>I like rats, jalapeño poppers, y2k aesthetics and idol games. I am pretty extroverted on the internet due to how easy it is to connect with people with similar interests. My personality may come across as aggressively friendly or over the top at times and I apologize in advance for that, whoops. <br><br>As for my strange signatures and profile pictures, a lot of them are a part of a specific aesthetic I´ve developed over the years that's basically 2000s aesthetics with a focus on the technology that explore themes of loss, abandonment, filth, and hopelessness, rather than the optimistic and mainstream view of the future that was common during that period of time.<br><br>TALK 2 ME!!!!<br></div>
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