A Guide To Designing Wheelchair Using Characters!

Honestly as a blind person I’m so tired of seeing fictional blind characters who don’t use white canes or other guides. “They have special powers so they know what’s around them” or “they’re confident enough to not need a guide” are common tropes, and I’m tired.

Are people scared that using a white cane will make their blind character seem weak? They can’t use a cane because they’re so special that they already know what’s around them, and other blind people who use guides are inferior because they’re not special?

I’m tired. Give your blind characters white canes and other guides. Let them hold onto their friends, let them have guide dogs. Don’t make white cane users feel ostracized for not being “strong enough” to go without.

Another thing that pisses me off is when a sighted character comes up with the fantasy equivalent of braille and teaches it to the blind character. Braille was invented by Louis Braille, a blind man, in 1824. The blind character should be the one coming up with it.

Tldr I’m blind and tired of sighted people lol

🔪 Sighted People MUST Reblog This 🔪

How am I only just learning this!?

Santa is on strike due to global warming.  All presents this year will be delivered by Sasha the Christmas Tiger.  Milk and cookies may not be sufficient.

Reblog if I can spam you with boops

Been stalking the TH fandom for a few months,, finally (Kinda) figured out how to draw Jim.

Still suck at his hair tho.

Anywayyyyy I really like this mess of a character because he's a great, responsible kid and also the friend that CAN and WILL fight God outside a Macdonalds. And probably win.

Please make a post about the story of the RMS Carpathia, because it's something that's almost beyond belief and more people should know about it.

Carpathia received Titanic’s distress signal at 12:20am, April 15th, 1912. She was 58 miles away, a distance that absolutely could not be covered in less than four hours.

(Californian’s exact position at the time is…controversial. She was close enough to have helped. By all accounts she was close enough to see Titanic’s distress rockets. It’s uncertain to this day why her crew did not respond, or how many might not have been lost if she had been there. This is not the place for what-ifs. This is about what was done.)

Carpathia’s Captain Rostron had, yes, rolled out of bed instantly when woken by his radio operator, ordered his ship to Titanic’s aid and confirmed the signal before he was fully dressed. The man had never in his life responded to an emergency call. His goal tonight was to make sure nobody who heard that fact would ever believe it.

All of Carpathia’s lifeboats were swung out ready for deployment. Oil was set up to be poured off the side of the ship in case the sea turned choppy; oil would coat and calm the water near Carpathia if that happened, making it safer for lifeboats to draw up alongside her. He ordered lights to be rigged along the side of the ship so survivors could see it better, and had nets and ladders rigged along her sides ready to be dropped when they arrived, in order to let as many survivors as possible climb aboard at once.

I don’t know if his making provisions for there still being survivors in the water was optimism or not. I think he knew they were never going to get there in time for that. I think he did it anyway because, god, you have to hope.

Carpathia had three dining rooms, which were immediately converted into triage and first aid stations. Each had a doctor assigned to it. Hot soup, coffee, and tea were prepared in bulk in each dining room, and blankets and warm clothes were collected to be ready to hand out. By this time, many of the passengers were awake–prepping a ship for disaster relief isn’t quiet–and all of them stepped up to help, many donating their own clothes and blankets.

And then he did something I tend to refer to as diverting all power from life support.

Here’s the thing about steamships: They run on steam. Shocking, I know; but that steam powers everything on the ship, and right now, Carpathia needed power. So Rostron turned off hot water and central heating, which bled valuable steam power, to everywhere but the dining rooms–which, of course, were being used to make hot drinks and receive survivors. He woke up all the engineers, all the stokers and firemen, diverted all that steam back into the engines, and asked his ship to go as fast as she possibly could. And when she’d done that, he asked her to go faster.

I need you to understand that you simply can’t push a ship very far past its top speed. Pushing that much sheer tonnage through the water becomes harder with each extra knot past the speed it was designed for. Pushing a ship past its rated speed is not only reckless–it’s difficult to maneuver–but it puts an incredible amount of strain on the engines. Ships are not designed to exceed their top speed by even one knot. They can’t do it. It can’t be done.

Carpathia’s absolute do-or-die, the-engines-can’t-take-this-forever top speed was fourteen knots. Dodging icebergs, in the dark and the cold, surrounded by mist, she sustained a speed of almost seventeen and a half.

No one would have asked this of them. It wasn’t expected. They were almost sixty miles away, with icebergs in their path. They had a respondibility to respond; they did not have a responsibility to do the impossible and do it well. No one would have faulted them for taking more time to confirm the severity of the issue. No one would have blamed them for a slow and cautious approach. No one but themselves.

They damn near broke the laws of physics, galloping north headlong into the dark in the desperate hope that if they could shave an hour, half an hour, five minutes off their arrival time, maybe for one more person those five minutes would make the difference. I say: three people had died by the time they were lifted from the lifeboats. For all we know, in another hour it might have been more. I say they made all the difference in the world.

This ship and her crew received a message from a location they could not hope to reach in under four hours. Just barely over three hours later, they arrived at Titanic’s last known coordinates. Half an hour after that, at 4am, they would finally find the first of the lifeboats. it would take until 8:30 in the morning for the last survivor to be brought onboard. Passengers from Carpathia universally gave up their berths, staterooms, and clothing to the survivors, assisting the crew at every turn and sitting with the sobbing rescuees to offer whatever comfort they could.

In total, 705 people of Titanic’s original 2208 were brought onto Carpathia alive. No other ship would find survivors.

At 12:20am April 15th, 1912, there was a miracle on the North Atlantic. And it happened because a group of humans, some of them strangers, many of them only passengers on a small and unimpressive steam liner, looked at each other and decided: I cannot live with myself if I do anything less.

I think the least we can do is remember them for it.

Lovely birbs over here !

it was not on wheat...

Getting more information on what the femmes do was very exciting (idk if that's the right word) but if it's not a spoiler I would love to hear more about the process when a femme finishes the preparations

(And it makes sense, find someone insignificant and reuse them to make someone new, someone potentially more useful)

The Grim Dark Archives: Statement #007 Cold Forged

[Statement taken from [Redacted] on [Redacted: Sensitive data] regarding femmes and what they do to their chosen subjects. Concerns have been rising after [Redacted] made it clear that Arcee can latch onto humans just as easily as she can another Cybertronian. Personnel working at the Autobot base have begun attempting to go on strike in an effort to escape.

I can't say I blame them, but [Redacted] was called to explain the process that femmes put their targets through to hopefully give us some answers. I suspect the higher ups just want enough information to weave a half baked like for the staff, but the information is vital nonetheless. The more we know, the better a chance we have of fighting back if need be.

Statement begins.]

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Femmes... yeah, I've known a few over the course of my life. Elita was one real piece of work. She wanted Orion when she was still Ariel, and she threw a fit when the Archives got him before she could. She wanted Optimus as well once she found out he had been Orion at some point. She nearly got him too. I think the only reason Optimus managed to get out of her clutches was because of his rather murderous tendencies. I don't know if he meant to or not, but he allowed Elita to try and claim him and then watched on as her abilities backfired.

There is a reason femmes only target the weak. If their will cannot overcome the will of the target, their abilities will kill them instead... and in a rather brutal fashion.

It was a shame. Elita, when she wasn't enthralled with her targets, was a good femme. She treated her cold forged well and was a brilliant tactician. She actually kept Optimus in line for a long time. She ensured he couldn't do anything nearly as extreme as what he does now. That's the good thing about femmes. They are good and kind to their targets. They fill the void in the bot's life that no other could have ever hoped to fill. It is a peaceful end for a mech that would otherwise be cast away by society. Elita was the companion Optimus needed, a level helmed and gentle being who served as his equalizer when his plans demanded more pain than required. I appreciated her for that, especially when I served as as a special agent-

Ignore that remark. No. Ignore it.

Do you understand me Witwicky? You will ignore that remark.

[Note: [Redacted] expressed a severe violent reaction the moment I made it clear that I had no intention of adhering to his wishes. He only calmed when he watched me scratch it from the records. Of course I added back the redacted information following the conversation, but [Redacted] has things he wants to hide it seems.]

Good.

As I was saying, Elita was a fantastic person. Femmes are more than capable of being normal members of society when they are tended to. In fact, they are even worshipped in some circles and given the lowly members of society so that they may be remade. But Elita aimed too high, she went beyond the bounds set by the rules of femmes. She tried to go after a mech who was too strong, and for that reason, she fell.

Femmes are of the line of Solus Prime, the first femme created by Primus. At least that's what the Primacy will tell you. I'm not all that sure on the theological stuff, but there are records pointing to the fact that Solus existed. Because of that, I am willing to pin the femmes existence back to her. I don't know all the details about the first femme. That's the kind of thing you'd need to ask Orion about. He always loved talking about the theological details of history. He always got so passionate about it...

Sometimes... I forget Orion isn't here to answer anymore. I mean, he is, but he also isn't. But that's beside the point. This isn't my forte. Sorry, its just seeing Optimus so often after so many millennia, it can bring back old memories yanno? I will get back on topic.

No one knows what makes a newspark become a femme. In fact, there are no signs at all until the newspark sheds their second armor set. They behave just like every other Cybertronian, and then sometime in their early adolescence, they start following a specific individual around. Usually their first target is someone very old or very young, the weak of society or those without enough knowledge to fight back. Once the femme has picked, that's when the Council steps in and slaps a sticker on them to denote what they are. The poor target is cut off from everyone and left to the femme. Why? Because the first target is always the one who suffers the most.

Femmes are highly territorial. They will never aid one another unless both their targets are in danger and cooperating is in their best interest. So every young femme is on her own, left to figure things out as she ages. For young femmes, they will pick their victims apart. There is no peace to be found as they sink their connectors into their target to try and tear apart their CNA and remake it. The process kills the target without fail. A more experienced femme knows that she must follow a ritual, a process of sorts. She must know her target, she must care for her target, and only once her target is open to her... only then can she dig her claws in and remake them.

Yes, yes I am getting to the actual process now. Calm down. I swear you fleshies are just as impatient as Cyberfelines sometimes.

First she will get to know her target and release a chemical, a pheromone as your kind call it. This chemical causes the target to become calm, more trusting, and it also weakens their immune system. It has some benefits, such as increased processor function and heightened senses, but all this comes at the cost of increasing weakness. Not to mention the increase in processor activity is largely so that the femme may attract her target's attention and push them into seeing her in a light that best fits what role she is aiming to fulfill until the time for harvest arrives.

Around a vorn into her work, the femme will start to introduce her coils, her touches if you will. She will start to touch her target as often as she can, and it is through this that small injectors in her digits will begin to input a specially made protomatter into her target. The target will feel no pain since the injections are so small. But over months, years, vorns... slowly her target will start to think less, feel less, until at last they start to collapse.

Femmes are not needlessly cruel in their efforts. She will be very gentle with her target in their dying cycles. When they begin to forget, she will remind them of the things they lost. She will help them fuel, she will take them places they enjoy, and she will allow them ample time to deal with their lingering affairs. Any living relatives will not be compensated, but that is because she sees her work as the greatest compensation any being could possibly receive. She is remolding the worthless into something greater, and for that reason she is both compelled to her work just as much as she heralds it as something sacred. It is her nature to be gentle in this stage, for by that point, her target will be carrying the beginnings of her cold forged, her perfect creation.

There is no set time for it, but at some point in this final stage, the femme will continue her injections of protomatter and her quiet indoctrination until finally, her target shatters. This can take various forms, usually some type of explosion or contortion of the frame, but the end result is always the same. The target dies, and from their corpse, a new being emerges. Much like a newspark, it emerges without armor, but unlike the newsparks from the Well, it will come forth with memory and a mission.

We call these things the Cold Forged. They are beings that completely lack emotion. Or perhaps the ability to empathize. It is hard to tell with them. They all seem to take sick glee in watching others squirm. But anyway, the Cold Forged have a purpose that their femme gave them, and most often, they do not care to reveal it. Those that have felt like giving up data have often been given a mission that amounts to a concept, a thought or ideal. The most common mission these beings receive is by far the most terrifying.

Perfection.

They are given one concept, and they live out their entire lives embodying and striving to reach it. The Cold Forged are Cybertronian by every single stretch of the word, but they are not... like us. Does that make sense? My kind do not really do the empathy thing. But they have SOMETHING. The Cold Forged don't even have that. They are true machines.

You know what's so funny about this whole thing?

The femmes don't even care about their Cold Forged. They make them, and then they move along to the next target. The Cold Forged are the closest any Cybertronian has to actually having a biological creation, and the femmes don't care!

[Note: [Redacted] laughed for a rather long time following this statement. He seemed to be... unstable while speaking on this matter.]

Sorry about that.

It's just, it feels so clinical to me even millennia after learning about the process. These femmes go through so much effort just to make a creature that they then throw away. Elita was a rare exception in this regard. She liked to keep tabs on her Cold Forged, and I think one of hers even ended up with the Elite Guard. Her missions to her Cold Forged were always super specialized too.

Yeah. Femmes. Cold Forged. It's a hot mess I tell you.

Jack will be fine. Arcee will care for him as best she knows how until his dying day. That much you can be sure of.

══════════════════

[Statement end.

I am unsure how to feel about all this. Every detail I gather about these aliens tells me that there is something deeply wrong with them. I have my theories, but considering [Redacted]'s disposition and what info we have on everyone else, I think I can say that this race has been altered somehow. If [Redacted] is able to comprehend empathy, there must be others.

They are capable of feeling and being reasonable, but there is some factor that changes things for them. I shouldn't get involved...

But I want to know. I want to figure this mess out. I am just one man, but if I can put some pieces together, then perhaps there is something we can do to fix this. If nothing else, I want to understand these aliens. I want to know why.

Why start a war? Why do all this? And why in God's name would they shatter in such a way culturally? There must be an answer, and I have a sinking feeling that the only ones who can give me answers are going to be very dangerous.

Agent Witwicky signing off.

Recording ends.]

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🇧🇷: ESTOU DE VOLTA COM ARTS DA ORDEM ARCANA >:3

🇱🇷:LOOK HOW CUTE THEY AREEE!! :3

🇧🇷: OLHA COMO SÃO FOFINHOS!! :3

🇱🇷:I would like to share these masterpieces with my friends so... be privileged U3U

🇧🇷: eu gostaria de partilhar estas obras primas com meus amiguinhos então.. sejam privilegiados U3U

@dreamcrow @falling-hand-in-unlovable-hand @arcane-nari @foursidecity @fionamybeloved @generalallxsanjishipper i love you all >:3 Be happy and a happy afternoon