started my period, after <3 weeks from last one, after a full year of perimenopausal only having it every 4ish months, while also discovering I have progesterone hypersensitivity (my period now gives me anaphylaxis), also endo and anemia (always).
No cleaning, no vacuuming, no putting together the new serta office chair and taking it to the office, no dog poop clean up, no drinks with friends, no art, no writing, no walks.
But, most the laundry got done yesterday, just finished giving the dog a bath, and had ordered some great Indian food Saturday night which I still have enough for tonight (Monday).
Small wins.

I just saw East Bay at my local theater.
It’s like you took every commonly posted complaint on Millennials and made a movie out of it. I’m not saying it comes off as fake—no, I know people my age who act exactly like these characters. Yes, I’m on the underpaid and overworked failure side of the Millennials. I see people who are depressed, stoners, game addicted, in and out of bad relationships, and trying for “art” online.
It’s supposed to be a comedy. At the beginning of the film, the main character is making a movie he hopes will be “so bad it’s good…but it’s probably just bad.” I was sitting there wondering if it was a meta commentary, because so much of this film has quick cuts and weird edits. It’s not amateur, but it feels disjointed.
In fact, it reminded me of early YouTube videos at several points. A bearded “God” pops in and out like Linkara in an old Nostalgia Critic review. And the reveal of the main guy’s new film at the end dissolved into repeats and echoes like a YouTube poop.
I’m not sure I enjoyed it, but it does encapsulate a distinct part of the culture right now.

HEY, there might be some SPOILERS under the thing
1:20 Mad lib oneshot
6:45 Beacon
10:10 Laura’s merch corner
13:05 Intro cinematic
14:50 EPISODE STARTS
16:55 Recap Ends
19:40 They were a punk, she was a fey. What more can I say?
22:15 How big is this tent?
24:05 Fearne’s spoon status
26:10 Refusing the call to adventure
30:35 Fearne makes it fit
37:50 Zathuda
38:45 Denial
50:20 Dark reflections
52:35 Matt’s Fearne impression
53:40 Liam is overcommitting to the whisper
56:55 Don’t put clothes on
59:15 Boots and underpants
1:00:40 No excuses
1:01:40 Map out, battle begins
1:10:15 Prophetic song
1:21:10 Shots
1:24:35 This was supposed to be a chill episode
1:27:40 Putty
1:29:05 Fearne is down
1:33:30 HDYWTDT
1:35:35 Poop gun
1:38:05 Zathuda was here the whole time
1:50:00 Dorian doesn’t know the lore
1:51:40 BREAK STARTS
2:05:35 Art Montage
2:07:35 BREAK ENDS
2:13:15 War council
2:23:40 You have my bow
2:31:55 Lots of groups of 5-7 people have been surprisingly helpful
2:33:20 Chetney goes hard
2:41:05 Thriller 5 Minds
2:44:25 Seth Dolmade
2:50:10 Souvenirs
2:53:00 Definitely a Larkin
2:57:25 Cleaning out Ashton’s giant magic hole
3:00:00 Real adventurers accumulate rotten meat
3:01:20 You look exhausted
3:04:45 If you want to contact Hell, I know a guy
3:06:40 Nobody will betray the party, that’s an Orym guarantee
3:07:40 Orym bounces back (mythdi**er)
3:13:05 What’s your mother’s name?
3:19:50 Nude invisibility
3:22:05 Guided by the fart
3:24:05 Walking with confidence
3:27:00 Chastity’s Nook franchise
3:31:25 Erma
3:36:35 Dorian has good spells now
3:40:45 Astrid and Essek
3:43:45 Episode Ends
The in-game start date for the episode is still debatable. Sam’s gas can says “”
Any moments I missed? Feel free to post them here. Is it Thursday yet?

____ _ _ __ ____ ____ ____ _ _ ____ ___ (_ _) ( )_( ) /__\ (_ _)( ___) (_ _)( )_( )(_ _)/ __) _)(_ ) _ ( /(__)\ )( )__) )( ) _ ( _)(_ \__ \ (____) (_) (_)(__)(__)(__) (____) (__) (_) (_)(____)(___/ 

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9 hours away from now

Hello, everyone! I'm F24. I'm not really looking for a friend or anything like that. Just someone I can talk to from time to time, sending weird shit (I love watching disgusting stuff like earwax/blackhead removal, poop memes) and stuff.
I'm into Kdrama nowadays and anime. I'm dumb about historical stuff or meaning behind renaissance arts but I don't mind talking about it. About religion.. I'm not really fond of that kind of stuff. I don't mind someone who's not talkative, just someone who can follow the flow of my weird shit.

Welcome to another Indie Sunday! This event starts at 12 AM EST and will run for 24 hours.
Please read the below guidelines carefully before participating. If you have any questions please don't hesitate to send us a modmail.
A reminder that Rule 8 is not enforced during this event for submissions which follow the participation guidelines.

Submission Restrictions

• Games may be unreleased or finished
  
• You must provide video footage of the game in action. This can be a prototype, alpha, beta, etc. Images and concept art are nice but you must include a trailer or video of gameplay footage of the game.
  
• No key/game giveaways
  
• Only developers may make submissions for their games - if you would like to highlight a game on your own, please do so in this hub thread
  
• The same game/developer can not be shared more than once every 30 days.
  

Submission Format

• Submission must be a self-post (No direct links)
• Title: Game Name - Company (or individual) Name - Short description (for example: "classic turn based RPG" or "platformer inspired by Metroidvanias")
• Flair: Indie Sunday
• Body: Any links to trailers/footage, a description of the game, plans for release (platform, target date, etc), any additional information you'd like to add.

Weekly Spotlight

• TH3-M15 Guild - Capybara Forge LLC - Action Roguelike, Bullet-Hell, with Roguelite Elements
• Erenshor - A "Simulated MMORPG" - Burgee Media
• Rebel!: Prologue - Four Pixels Games - 3D arena horde shooter where you fight back against an oppressive government as a guerilla fighter! We're in the Endless Replayabilty Festival!
• KINGDOM OF FALLEN - DigitalSouls - A New Medieval Survival with Unlimited Building (RELEASE IN NEXT WEEK MAY 15TH)
• A2C:Ayry seems to be playtesting a 2D runner shooter from Cci - Imaginary Traveller - A 2D side scrolling runner shump ,with a bit of (meta)visual novel
• Galacticare - Brightrock & CULT Games- Sci-Fi Hospital Management Sim inspired by Two Point & Theme Hospital
• On Track - GIGATANK 3000 - Free cozy productivity game set aboard a train designed to help get stuff done
• Primordial Nation - Vezeko - A 4X / Grand Strategy with a Civ+Total War Style that allows you to build up a nation and survive the echoes of time! (Solo-Developer)
• Freenergy - Mir - a game about a brilliant engineer captured by a corporation, threatened with his life, he is forced to create combat robots. None other than Into the Breach inspired me to develop it.
• Casino Simulator - Lodos Games - Simulation game
• DROSS - Team Derelict - DROSS is an FPS Roguelike set in a derelict facility infested with alien bugs
• Outer Space Shack - Open Lowcode - a realistic space base building game starting in the 1960s on the Moon - R1.5 update is out, focusing on quality of life improvements
• 💰Forum Mortuorum ⚔️ - Vittoria Games - Gladiator Management (Free Demo on Steam!)
• Critias Empire - Crystalline Green Ltd. - Non-violent 4X with improved demo
• Werewolf Party - AbsamStudios - A social deduction first-person multiplayer game.
• Paper Perjury - Paper Cat games -An Ace Attorney inspired mystery game (Demo on steam)
• Legends of Dragaea: Idle Dungeons - Blast Programming - Idle Dungeon Crawler Where You Manage A Guild Heroes And Explore Dungeons For Loot and Glory in the Endless Replayabilty Festival
• Surfers Code - More Than Fun - Chill Surfing Themed Game, But So Much More . . . Adventure, exploration, surfing, and amusing conversations
• DDS2 (full title censored) - Movie Games - first-person co-op sim set in a dynamic open world. Make contacts, cook %&#, and manage your cartel on Isla Sombra, where power is the only law.
• Snowbound: Dead of Winter - Galaxasaurus Games - A farming tower defense roguelite (Steam demo out now!)
• Graveyard Gunslingers - Pyro Physics - roguelike horde survival with resource gathering
• The Nightwatch - Astrow Games - A highly customisable exploration survivors-like, come try out the demo!
• Eggstraction - TwoShoedGames - A chaotic game about chickens breaking into a farm.
• Eden Crafters - Osaris Games - Factory building and terraforming game where you transform a whole planet into a new haven for humanity
• The Bugs Manor 🦋 - Moonthsoft - A Free 2D Pixel Art Horror Game
• HOTLOOP - Tntlaxy GDS - top down space shooter with real physics, gravity and orbits
• SPELLHACK!! - Computer Dream - Meta retro deckbuilder with a game-within-a-game aesthetic
• Galaxy Burger - Galactic Workshop - a cooking game without annoying timers, just relaxing.
• Operation: Polygon Storm - Toxic Studio - Tug-of-War strategy game with RTS & Tower Defences (PC, PS4/5, Switch, Xbox)
• Warcos 2 - 4tale - (FPS, multiplayer shooter, with unique melee combat system, parkour and abilities)
• Anomaly Agent - Phew Phew Games - 2D, Pixel Art, Action Platformer
• Polygon of Reality - Dark Games DGG - First-person Survival horror with cunning and clever enemies.
• Medal winners 24 - Dual Gen Studios - Retro 2D sports video game about the Olympics
• Please Be Kind To The Chickens - Demanding Bear - A Challenging 3D Puzzle Adventure
• Munch - Mac n Cheese - A fantasy action game where you play an evolving monster
• Distant Isles - worldform - a RTwP party-based RPG where you explore an unknown island, fight creatures and search for loot and treasure
• Astral Throne - Zero Sun Games - Fire Emblem-inspired Roguelite (Demo Available Steam Endless Replayability Fest)
• Shoomer Booter - Tommy Gun Walrus - retro pixel art FPS with modern lighting
• Paw Paw Destiny - Daiyu.studio - 🐱Cat / Dog🐶, a cosmic horror comedy
• Rain Tactics - Ervya Studios - Tactical RPG inspired by Fire Emblem and Shadowrun; play a god who wants to die
• rRootage Reloaded - MadTriangles - Console port and remaster of an old bullet-hell classic.
• Rogue Voltage - Horizont Computergrafik - The Engineering Roguelike
• Just Crow Things - Unbound Creations - Play as little crow, collect shiny things, use variety of tools, and and poop on unsuspecting people (Demo Available)
• Emberward - Refic Games - Roguelite tower defense with maze building [New Demo Update!!]
• World’s Worst Handyman – Baby Lumberjack – Think Untitled Goose Game Meets Banjo Kazooie
• The Biggleboss Incident - BUNKWORKS - A pointy-clicky corporate thriller
• Echo: Defy Death - 3Hills - Roguelite that uses Echolocation, you play as a blind assassin!
• Novus Orbis - Seizo Games - A Combo-based Deckbuilder Roguelike
• Airships: Lost Flotilla - David Stark - a brotatolike steampunk autoshooter
• Star Mission: Remote Sectors - Ralph Schaedler - Sci-Fi Adventure Inspired by the Hopeful Visions of Golden Age Sci-Fi
• Sporeborn Dark - ValiantLight - is a mystical horror of dark labyrinths inspired by Darkwood.
• Gentoo Rescue - Cyclicity Studios - Puzzler inspired by Baba Is You and Patrick's Parabox
• Into The Grid - Flatline Studios - A narrative-centered Cyberpunk Deckbuilder with some real twists! Become a hacker and steal juicy corporate secrets!
• TROLEU - andrground - Wacky First-Person Physics-Based Trolleybus Conductor Simulator
• Alien Frontier - After Hours Games - An open world roguelite where you play as a prospector on a dangerous alien planet.
• Together After Dark - RedForge- Co-op Psychological Horror Game
• Dwarves: Glory, Death and Loot - ichbinhamma - Dwarf Warband Simulator RPG
• The Last Question - Bill - An Existential Platforming Experience
• Tyrant’s Twilight - Caio Ramaglio - A mix between realtime and turn-based Tactics
• Mortal Glory 2 - Redbeak Games - 2D Turn-based Gladiator Roguelike
• Aim High Lofi - Thomas Wray - Fast-paced whimsical FPS with Lo-Fi music
• BrainZ Defender - Mint Creative - Tower Defense FPS
• Cozy Marbles - Pixel Pea Games - relaxing physics sandbox building game about creating marble runs
• Echoes of the Stars - Alchimia Studios - Hand Drawn, 2D, Spectacle Action RPG/JRPG/Anime inspired.

Previous Indie Sunday

Feedback

Feel free to ask any questions in the comments below, or send us a modmail if it is urgent.

Discussion

• Any of these games catch your eye?
  
• Any games you want to personally highlight that haven't been shared yet?
  
• Any projects that have had interesting development journeys?
  
• What indie game recommendations do you have?
  

• What My Project Does

This is a music video of the output of a Python program: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sjk4UMpJqVs
I'm the author of Automate the Boring Stuff with Python and I teach people to code. As part of that, I created something I call "scroll art". Scroll art is a program that prints text from a loop, eventually filling the screen and causing the text to scroll up. (Something like those BASIC programs that are 10 PRINT "HELLO"; 20 GOTO 10)
Once printed, text cannot be erased, it can only be scrolled up. It's an easy and artistic way for beginners to get into coding, but it's surprising how sophisticated they can become.
The source code for this animation is here: https://github.com/asweigart/scrollart/blob/main/python/forbiddenzone.py (read the comments at the top to figure out how to run it with the forbiddenzonecontrol.py program which is also in that repo)
The output text is procedurally generated from random numbers, so like a lava lamp, it is unpredictable and never exactly the same twice.
This video is a collection of scroll art to the music of "The Forbidden Zone," which was released in 1980 by the band Oingo Boingo, led by Danny Elfman (known for composing the theme song to The Simpsons.) It was used in a cult classic movie of the same name, but also the intro for the short-run Dilbert animated series.

• Target Audience

Anyone (including beginners) who wants ideas for creating generative art without needing to know a ton of math or graphics concepts. You can make scroll art with print() and loops and random numbers. But there's a surprising amount of sophistication you can put into these programs as well.

• Comparison

Because it's just text, scroll art doesn't have such a high barrier to entry compared with many computer graphics and generative artwork. The constraints lower expectations and encourage creativity within a simple context.
I've produced scroll art examples on https://scrollart.org
I also gave a talk on scroll art at PyTexas 2024: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SyKUBXJLL50

Hi, i'm a first year software engineering student , and i want to make a program that takes image and recreate it by using japanese characters.
So, how this idea came to my mind ? A couple days ago, i saw a t-shirt that has a samurai drawn by using japanese characters: And since i love anime and japanese culture, i said "Wow, this is really cool ! What if i make a program converts images to this art style ?".
The problem is, i don't have enough knowledge to create a program like this. I have a little bit of experiance in c, c++, python (mostly) and i don't think this languages would be very useful for this project. So, i wanted to ask is there any specific language that is suitable for this project.
But before, i'd like to give more detail about the project. If you read this far, you may think like "This is just image to ascii art, but instead of ascii characters, he just wants to use japanese characters.". Well yes. But actually no. I want to use not just color tones but also shape similarities. For example if there is a stick in the image, the program will take the character "ノ"(no) and rotate it as needed so it looks like that stick with the same angle. As you can see, i want to have full control of the characters. In that case, i assume that i need to take the japanese characters as images.
I think this project is doable with ai. Like a program that recognizes faces, ours will find similarities with japanese characters and recreates that image using them. I also would like to hear your solutions about that.
If you read this far, thank you so much. My native language is not english so if i did any mistakes, i apologize. Also, i am very new to reddit and this is actually my very first post so if you have any community suggestions or general suggestions, please let me know.

NOTE FROM AUTHOR: Hello Hello! I am a first-time writer embarking on my first dumpster fire; input is most welcome. I'm not the best self-editor, so get your hiking boots on. It's rough out there. Whenever I read it, I find or create more errors (:
OPTIONAL READS: For the Retro Computer or Programming Enthusiast OR if you are open to other formats of story telling. I tried to combine my love for programming as an UNDERSTANDABLE way to tell a story through a Visual Experience in the Command Line Interface;
A Stand-Alone VISUAL ASCII 'Programming Terminal' Story Prologue. Follow through(Screen Shots of my Command Line Interface) the UNE-EYE Observational Satellite Terminal as Kable extracts Classified Data about his Beloved Military Unit, THE HUMMINGBIRDS, a flying exoskeleton unit. This includes the origin story of a Technology Tree in Book 1.

####

INDEX

1. DEADCOAST - THE HUMMINGBIRDS PROLOGUE -> HERE <-
   
2. DEADCOAST - COMPLETE ILLUSTRATED INTRO -> HERE <-
   
3. HEAT & GRIZZLY REDS - CHAPTER 1 ILLUSTRATED -> HERE <-
   

"Deadcoast Book 1: Heat and the Grizzly Reds" transports readers to a 2063 Earth, a world on the brink, where the scarcity of fresh water has led to previously unseen geopolitical tensions. Amidst this backdrop, the nation-backed militant group DAGGR has emerged as a formidable force, leveraging advanced technology to assert control over Canada’s abundant water resources. At the heart of their arsenal is 'slugTech,' a technology pioneered by James Broadshaw, intended for ecological restoration but repurposed for militaristic dominance.
The story unfolds with the chilling invasion of Vancouver, marking a turning point as DAGGR makes its ambitions clear, culminating in the assassination of the Canadian Prime Minister. This act of aggression leaves the country reeling, exposing vulnerabilities and igniting a global reaction.
The UNE-EYE satellite is central to the international response, a significant narrative element representing the world's most advanced orbital tracking system. Once decommissioned in favour of privacy, the Dutch reactivated the satellite as a strategic move to monitor DAGGR's movements and coordinate a unified international effort against the aggressors. This revival of UNE-EYE symbolizes a crucial turning point, highlighting the global stakes and the interconnectedness of nations in the face of a common enemy.
As Canada grapples with its plight, the DAMU (Deserted American Military Units) rise in solidarity, breaching borders to fight alongside their Canadian counterparts. This act of defiance is mirrored by international forces, including the Netherlands and Ukraine, each bringing their unique strengths to the coalition, underscored by the strategic oversight provided by the UNE-EYE satellite.
Amidst the geopolitical chaos, a man who had all but given up, a boxer on the ropes, emerges from Vancouver's Gastown. Known as HEAT, this leader of the Grizzly Reds becomes a symbol of resistance and hope. HEAT's story, and that of the Grizzly Reds, is one of resilience, rallying not only Canadians but also global citizens to stand against DAGGR's tyranny.
" Deadcoast Book 1: Heat and the Grizzly Reds" is a compelling narrative of survival, alliance, and resistance. It deftly weaves together elements of advanced technology, international politics, and the indomitable human spirit. The inclusion of the UNE-EYE satellite serves as a testament to the complexities of modern warfare and the critical role of global surveillance and coordination in maintaining security and freedom. But something else stirs amongst it. The UNE still shrouds its use, albeit assuring it is for record-keeping purposes- there is no way to be sure. Join HEAT and the Grizzly Reds as they navigate the challenges of Time, War, Science and liberating their fellow man in Vancouver. THE GRIZZLIES NEED YOU, in this action-packed, emotional saga, speaks to the resilience and camaraderie inherent in the human condition.
CHAPTER 1 - The Blood Spattered Maples
ILLUSTRATED VERSION -> HERE <-
The early morning sun cast a serene glow over Vancouver, its golden rays gently coaxing the city from its slumber. The harbour lay still, bathed in a tranquil blend of crimson and amber, defiantly calm as if aware of the day's latent potential for tumult. The awakening streets, pulsating with the vibrant beat of daily enterprise, transformed into bustling arteries of life.
Amidst this urban renaissance, Ryan stood by his apartment window, one eye still tinged a fading shade of deep lavender from last night's ordeals. He absorbed the duality of the world outside – a peaceful façade masking an undercurrent of chaos, much like his own existence. The apartment, a silent guardian of his life's chapters, was awash with tangible memories; some stood proudly like trophies, and others lingered like indelible scars.
"Eugh, need to sort out this money mess," Ryan muttered, his voice a gravelly mix of resolve and weariness. He gingerly touched the bruise beneath his eye, a stark reminder of the previous night's fight. He wasn't just a boxer but a living, breathing paradox. His undefeated record of 12-0 was more than a tally of victories; it was a map of a life spent dancing in and out of shadows. At 17, he was a beacon of hope for Canadian Olympic Futures. Now, at 33, he was a spotlight in his subconscious, illuminating the relentless passage of time and a road riddled with 'what ifs.' Eleven of those wins were echoes from a past steeped in the sweat and blood of the ring before life's currents swept him into the city's gritty underbelly. There, he became an enforcer, not out of choice but a necessity, bound by ties, not of blood but of unbreakable bonds forged in adversity. Stepping back into the ring at 33, Ryan wasn't chasing glory; he was hunting redemption, a chance to rewrite a narrative that had veered off course.
Today's boxing was far from what he once knew; it had transformed into a digital spectacle, a charade he refused to partake in. The sport now paraded fighters adorned with loud chains and face tattoos, pretending to live a life of crime they don't. Vile symbols of fame he doesn't wish for. Ryan had always skirted the fringes of the spotlight, respecting the sport but despising what it had become - a glorified masquerade that he believed led the youth astray. He stared out at the awakening city, contemplating his place in this ever-changing world, just as the first notes of a familiar yet unwelcome voice crackled from the vintage radio on his shelf.
"Ah, jimmy2piece," he scoffed, the name leaving a bitter taste. The vintage radio crackled on, announcing the dazzling exploits of the heavyweight boxing champion, an embodiment of everything Ryan detested about the sport's current state. Ryan's hand lingered over the old radio, a relic amidst the bountiful thrift and trinket that abundantly filled his apartment. The announcer's voice, overly flamboyant in its praise of 'jimmy2piece,' clashed with the morning's tranquillity, grating against Ryan's every nerve. With a flick brimming with contempt, he silenced the intrusive chatter. The ensuing silence was a stark reminder of his path's divergence from the once-noble art of boxing to a life mired in moral ambiguity.
"Enough of this nonsense," he muttered, the disdain in his voice mirroring the snarl on his lips as he spun the dial back to silence.
*Click*
Ryan was a man of contemplation; opening his balcony door, he let the morning breeze mingle with the memories that haunted him daily. These reflections were a tormenting ritual, no matter the joys and love surrounding him. His only respite was constant movement – hobbies, work, art – anything to fend off the sharp claws of the past that threatened to shred the remnants of his self-respect. He had lost ten years to choices and actions that replayed in his mind relentlessly every single day.
"This 'jimmy2shoes' or whatever...pal throws pillows, a poser pretending he's about that gang life; I can see it in his eyes, he's not a killer," he grumbled, gazing out at the awakening city. This day promised a respite from his underground fights – at least for a while. His recent backstreet brawls, a far cry from the glory of the boxing ring, were what paid the bills now. "At least I've bought myself three more months..."
Leaning on the railing of his miniature balcony, Ryan cradled a cup of steaming coffee, his gaze drifting over the streets below. At this moment, the chaos of his life seemed distant, replaced by a transient calm. Despite his bruised, rough presentation, a certain peace enveloped him, a rare stillness that belied the storm of his existence. His thoughts meandered through the serene hum of the city and the gentle brush of the ocean breeze. The skyscape, with clouds dancing to the ocean's rhythm, offered a brief escape from his turbulent past.
Memories of Robin, his mentor and friend, floated into his consciousness. Robin's untimely death in Dubai was a wound that never healed. The sacrifices he had made to keep Robin safe, only to be absent on the fateful trip that claimed his friend's life, weighed heavily on him. "Why did it have to be you, Robin?" he whispered to the horizon, the question, a haunting torment upon his daily routines.
Ryan was a thinker; as he slid over his ashtray from the stool, he sparked up A morning 'dart' (cigarette), as he called them. His past began to creep into his head, as it did every morning. With each inhalation of addiction-soothing nicotine, his blazing thoughts followed as his brain began to become fully active from his sleep. It was a raven on his shoulder tormenting him, pecking at him ever haunting his consciousness. No matter the love he may have found or the happiness, friends, or family surrounding him. The time to reflect was always grim and consistently unbearable. If he stood still, the Ravel's claws sunk more profoundly; the only reprieve was constant distractions. It's why he kept so busy, creative, and active. Ryan constantly kept moving with hobbies, work, or art. Pushing off the switchblade thoughts ready to cut into his subconscious and bleed out whatever self-respect he had left that day. He threw away ten years of his life, and he relives them every. Single. Day.
"Damn man, what's the point of it all?" Ryan's voice was barely a whisper, lost in the morning breeze. His gaze lingered on the horizon, eyes clouded with confusion and pain. "Robin's gone, and here I am, a ship adrift; up shits creek without a paddle. What good can I do? What purpose do I serve? My skillset? My knowledge? Ive wasted my life, nothing is applicable." The questions hung in the air, unanswered. Ryan's life had indeed been a storm of violence and turmoil, from the gritty days working alongside Robin, watching his back to his hard-fought victories in the boxing ring. He had dreamt of leaving the world of fights behind, yet fate seemed to have woven a different path for him, one that he couldn't escape...
The distant sound of boat horns broke his train of thought. These weren't the usual rhythmic calls that echoed along Vancouver's shores; they carried a sense of urgency, growing louder and more frantic by the second. Ryan leaned forward, squinting into the morning light. The sight that greeted him was anything but ordinary. Dark, ominous and foreboding shapes were cutting through the waters toward the Seawall – military-grade ships that seemed like phantoms against the sun's bright backdrop.
"What the...?" Ryan murmured, a wry smile touching his lips as he recalled a line from a 1930s radio show. "Ah yes, the 'Anti-Frackers' upping their game, bravo!" He often found solace in humour, a shield against the world's harsh realities. Ryan was an unbreakable anvil to the world, always struck to sharpen others' steel. But what about his iron resolve? He bore the burdens so others didn't have to, a silent guardian shouldering the world's weight in stoic silence. Yet beneath that armour of stoicism beat the heart of a man grappling with his vulnerabilities, a man with a core as soft as it was intense.
Just like that- The world as we knew it, changed forever.
The morning's peace shattered abruptly as sirens wailed into life, slicing through the air with a sense of impending doom. The tranquil dawn was now a backdrop to a nightmare unfolding in real time. Ryan's eyes, mirroring the turbulent hues of a stormy sea, narrowed in primal alertness. These were not friendly vessels coming to grace the city's harbour; they were harbingers of chaos, their arrival a silent scream in the gardens of Vancouver's tranquility. As the city around him carried on, blissfully unaware of the looming threat, Ryan's mind shifted into high gear, honed by years of confrontation, conflict and reading other peoples intentions. He understood the unspoken language of death, the subtle shift in the air that preluded catastrophe. The serene calm that had greeted the day now seemed like the deceptive stillness before a devastating storm.
PFFFFT~~
Ryan's coffee ejected out his mouth, a clean mist dispersed, dancing in the ocean winds.
His eyes widened in shock. "That... No, that's not right. That honeycomb structure on the bow – that's rumoured military tech, not something you'd find on a civilian vessel. That's definitely not one of our decommissioned ships; Canada has always had a modest military budget- It's not the U.S. either; they've moved on to those massive city carriers," he muttered, recalling the recent unveiling of the U.S.'s latest naval behemoth designed to be a self-sustaining war ecosystem.
"These are destroyers...carriers...and what in the world are those landing crafts?" His voice trailed off as a wave of realization washed over him. A heavy breath escaped his lips, his heartbeat thundering in unison with a growing sense of dread. This kind of military might, sleek and menacing, was straight out of the pages of a dystopian novel. Ryan's pulse quickened, adrenaline coursing through his veins, mingling with an unsettling fear. Vancouver, with its serene beauty and peaceful reputation, was the last place one would expect a military invasion. Yet, as he stood there, the city around him persevered in blissful ignorance. Laughter and the sounds of daily life echoed up to his balcony, starkly juxtaposed against the darkening horizon of his thoughts.
Something sinister was unfolding, and he felt an urgent need to act. "Ah, damn it!" he exclaimed, frustration boiling over as he hurled his mug to the ground, where it shattered into razer sharp ceramic shards—a glimpse of futures past.
The walls of Ryan's apartment, once a gallery of memories from a life half-lived, now felt like they were closing in on him. The space that had been his refuge, adorned with mementos of a tumultuous past, suddenly felt like a prison. He felt trapped, not by physical barriers, but by the weight of the unfolding crisis. Who could he call? Who would believe him about an impending military assault? Was there even time?
Each option seemed as hopeless as the next, leaving him feeling powerless. His fists, which had once brought him victory in the ring, now seemed futile in the face of this immense and unknown threat.
BOOM
A thunderous crash tore through the city's fabric, piercing the veil of laughter and routine. Giggles changed to Shrieks, the buzzing of cars in the city turned screeching of panicked tires. It was a boom resonating with such force that it seemed to shake the very resolve of the most robust steel, a sound that demands attention and captivates a person, a sound of death; it rattles you to the bone. This explosion marked a pivotal moment that would forever alter the course of Vancouver's history and, indeed, the world's.
The resounding echo of the first explosion heralded a declaration of war on all that was ordinary. In Ryan, the shockwave ignited a transformation. Despair morphed into an unyielding determination, a fire kindled deep within. His skin prickled, each hair standing on end as if his nerves were braille, spelling out the moment's urgency.
"Are they firing at us?" Ryan's voice was a mix of disbelief and rising panic. The thought seemed almost too surreal to entertain. He hesitated momentarily, grappling with the reality of the situation. The explosion's roar, so fierce it shook the foundations of his apartment, jolted him back to the present. Racing back to his balcony, what he saw confirmed his darkest fears.
The ships in the harbour were no longer silent, ominous spectators; they had unleashed their fury, sending plumes of smoke and debris skyward. Vancouver's skyline, once a proud testament to peace and progress, now served as a harrowing backdrop to an unfolding apocalypse. Below, the streets descended into chaos. People scattered in a frantic attempt to escape, their screams piercing the air, a chorus of dawning terror.
Ryan's heart pounded against his chest, each beat a call to action. He was no hero, never the 'good guy' in his story, but he did value life above all. Standing there, witnessing his city being torn apart, he knew he couldn't remain a passive observer. Indecision and shock gave way to resolve.
"MOTHA FU-" he cursed, his words lost in the burst of an explosion, spotted at the last second.
The world around him had erupted into a maelstrom of fire and fury.
An air burst shell detonated with ferocious intensity a mere 50 meters from Ryan's sanctuary. The explosion ripped through the building, an unforgiving hatred that jolted reality itself. The blast wave, a monstrous force of destruction, assaulted his apartment, shattering the windows with an ease that mocked Vancouver's fragility. Glass shards, transformed into lethal projectiles, hurtled through the air with a hunter's precision, each piece seeking its target. Instinctively, Ryan lunged for cover, his only protection a vintage oak promotional board, a relic of a bygone era. This wooden guardian, decorated with the iconic image of Stan Lee, stood as a stoic defender, a symbol of comic heroism now repurposed to shield flesh and blood from the brutal onslaught.
A low hum erupts from the depths of his being as the fireball swirled around him. "Breathe... I can't... don't fall asleep... don't...sleep..." he whispered, fighting the encroaching darkness. His cobalt eyes, glazing over open, fighting to the last light, flickered between consciousness and oblivion. The distant, muffled voices of mentors past echoed in his mind, a fading chorus in the theatre of his memories. Ryan looked to his left, cast one last lingering look at the Vancouver sky, a canvas of blue that seemed so distant now. As his vision began to narrow, a tunnel drawing him away from the light, Ryan felt the grip of darkness pulling him under heavy, yet weightless. Once so vivid and alive, the world around him was fading into shadows.
Amid shrapnel-induced unconsciousness, Ryan's mind catapulted him back to a pivotal moment from his youth – the Ontario Canadian Olympic Trials.
The stadium's noise swirled around him, but it was an entirely different world within the ring. There, it was just Ryan and his opponent, every move a testament to the sacrifices he and Robin(Ryan's longtime mentor both inside, and outside the ring) had made together.
Ryan's style in the ring was unique, a blend of calculated ferocity in speed and agility. He adopted the elusive, angular movements that Robin had honed while serving alongside the hardened Ukrainians on the frontlines of Kyiv. This style was compelling and unpredictable, frustrating his opponents with swift and efficient strikes. Ryan's ability to slip away from counters, almost serpentine in its execution, left them grasping at straws.
Point fighting for the Olympics was a system that worked well with Ryan's style but not necessarily with his mindset. Ryan was a fighter at heart, and sometimes, when pushed, the disciplined techniques would give way to a rawer form of combat. Robin, who always believed in Ryan's potential, saw this as his greatest fault and biggest asset to "push past." In his gruff but encouraging voice, Robin would often spew "The stink in that mind, You've got a head on you that'd make an onion cry," highlighting Ryan's occasionally impulsive nature, and inability to control his emotions when it mattered. This characteristic made Ryan fearless in the ring but also sloppy, open, and vulnerable. It often led him into trouble outside of the solace in prizefighting.
In these trials, Ryan's physical attributes – his slender frame, broad shoulders, wide back and a peculiarly long wingspan that gave him an imposing presence in his weight class – it made him stand out. His frame synchronized with his style, creating a truly unique spectacle of genetic gifts, hard work, and skill.
These memories blended nostalgia and pain as they flickered through Ryan's mind. They were reminders of a path once trodden, a journey shaped by the influence of a mentor and the determination of a fighter's spirit.
As the Olympic Trials set to begin, Robin looked to Ryan to instill confidence for his upcoming bouts, but Ryan was in his element. It was fight day, the fun day, the day to show off all of the hard work. Ryan had confidence, and his style in the ring displayed it in full. He moved with an angular rhythm that was both art and battle – slipping, landing a quick stiff counter cross, then gracefully stepping out of reach inches from returning fire. He made it look fun and easy, as if playing with his prey before fangs clench throat, delivering the killing bite. Looking closer, you can only see fire and determination in his bright eyes. He found purpose in the beautiful science of boxing. His strategy was that of a technical boxer, The Counterpuncher; 1. To bait his opponent into committing, then counter, fight long, fight smart. 2. Beat em' up, Frustrate em', then start slinging the heat in the uppercuts and lead hooks.
The bell rang and the fight was officially underway. Ryan controlled the ring with his long frame. Each exchange was rapid yet controlled, a dance of precise strikes and evasive maneuvers. The world's complexities faded in these moments, leaving only Ryan and the pure essence of the sport he loved. He felt invincible, a force of nature within the confines of the ring. To Ryan, the fight was more than a competition; it was a performance, an exhilarating escape from the mundane. It was true Purpose.
The intensity of the round reached a frustrating outburst by his opponent, who grabbed Ryan by the back of his head– 'SPLIT' called by the referee, his hand placed between them. A judge calls for a correction, catching the referee's attention only for a split second. In this second, Ryan's Opponent saw an opportunity. Lifting his head to move away, Ryan locks eyes with his Opponent, sporting a grin and delivering a sly headbutt as a parting gift. It's against the rules, but part of the game's harsh reality if gone unnoticed. Expelling energy and detesting it was a waste of fuel. It was a jolting reminder of "at all times"(protect yourself), a stark contrast to the discipline and respect Ryan upheld, starting his boxing journey in Thailand under "Muay Thai" rules, ideology of the worrior spirit and discipline. There was a sense of Honor in Lumpinee Stadium.
The outcome of these unsavoury tactics here is an advantage for the opponent. Ryan's inner pools erupt, his mind swirled with raging white waters, crashing and colliding against each other, two oceans with opposite currents meeting in his consciousness. His once technical thoughts, muscle memory mixed with fight iq burst with flames, erupting and incinerating all strategy in his path. His eyes widened, open like he'd found his primal genetic ancestry hidden deep within. The slaughter and the war of history. The bloodshed of 1000 lifetimes. He felt it all. Manic in thought. Ryan wanted to take his glove off and rip his cheeks open from the inside out--
BREAK - Ryan snaps back into it, erupting in stoic, silent, primal rage.

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The fight escalated, Ryan's disciplined technique unravelled under the seething tide of his rage. The finesse and agility that once defined his footwork gave way to a heavier, more aggressive stance. His feet, usually light and swift under his commanding frame, now felt anchored to the floor, each step driven more by fury than finesse. This transformation in style played perilously into his opponent's advantage. Ryan, usually a master of stick-and-move tactics, found himself engaging in close-quarter brawls, trading his advantage for a risky gamble. His in-and-out maneuvers, once a blur of grace, turned into brutish, in-the-pocket exchanges. This was a terrain where his more muscular and compact opponent had the upper hand. A raw, primal contest of power replaced the tactical dance that Ryan excelled at. Ryan's precise strikes became wild swings, his movements predictable to his seasoned adversary. Seizing the moment, the opponent unleashed a devastating barrage of inside hooks with their compact frame. A vicious right hook, lands clean in the exchange, thrown with the grace of a milkbag, the power hooks brute force, cut through Ryan's defences. The blow landed with a bone-jarring impact, sending a shockwave through Ryan's frame. His world spun as he stumbled, his once dominant presence in the ring now faltering under the weight of his unchecked emotions.
The ground rushed up to meet him as he crashed onto the canvas, the taste of iron and the sting of defeat mingling in his mouth. The crowd's roar faded into a distant echo, a stark reminder of how quickly the tides of battle could turn. Robin's voice sliced through the ringing from the corner, resonating with a force that commanded attention.
"Get your shit together, JUMPIN JESUS RYAN! HEART OF GOLD AND HEAD OF STONE – GET UP, YOU LITTLE COWARD! YOU'RE LETTING IT WIN, AGAIN! STOP THIS ONION HEAD NONSENSE AND DANCE, BOX THIS FELLA – YOU'RE BETTER THAN THIS, ACT LIKE IT, BELIEVE IN IT!"
His words were more than just a call to action; they were a lifeline thrown into the stormy seas of Ryan's mind. Each syllable was drenched in the raw, unfiltered wisdom that only a life spent in the cauldron of combat could forge. Robin's tone was a volatile cocktail of fury and concern, the urgency palpable in his voice. His palms crashed against the ring mat; each hit thunderous punctuation to his fiery sermon.
"You've got the talent, kid, but it's as good as ash if you keep burning it to the ground. I'M HERE FOR YOU, IM RIGHT HERE. SNAP OUT OF IT AND BOX THIS PLASTIC PATTY! MOVE GOD DAMNIT, GET UP!"
On the canvas, Ryan lay dazed, the echo of Robin's voice ringing in his ears. It was more than a mere pep talk; it was a wake-up call that struck a chord deep within him. Amidst the haze of the crowd murmurs and the pulsating pain that coursed through his body, clarity began to emerge. Lying there, Ryan grasped the essence of Robin's message –
"coward? letting it win? Playing my ego are ya Robin...hes right though. Im throwing this shit away."
This moment, sprawled on the canvas under the glaring lights and the crowd's gaze, became a crucible of transformation. The raw emotion and the hard-hitting truth in Robin's words ignited a spark in Ryan. It was time to rise, shake off the shadows of rage, and embrace a fighter's true spirit like he had learned in Thailand – not just with fists but with heart and mind in unison.
Staggered yet stirred by the dual impact of the physical hit and Robin's piercing words, A padded fist crushed into the rings canvas, followed by a kneee and the eruption of the crowd. Ryan was back, and he began to pull himself up from the canvas. His resolve, momentarily dimmed, now reignited with a fierce, clear, calculated intensity. Memories of the gruelling hours spent in the gym flooded back to him – the relentless sparring sessions, the time spent in Thailand, the sweat and toil, and the invaluable lessons etched into his being under Robin's stern tutelage.
With a renewed spirit, Ryan stepped back into the battle, his movements now embodying controlled power and a fluidity to his step. He recalled his time fighting beside the backdrop of the "Sarama" a traditional Thai music played when in combat. The times of learning to move, fight with the music, to flow, to be fluid, to be concise. Ryan finally put it all together in the heat of battle. He had merged his inherent ferocity with the disciplined technique that Robin relentlessly drilled into him, and the mindfull practises of the years he spent under Burklerk Pinsinchai in the jungles of Chiang Mai. His style was now fully displayed, raw and visceral yet refined by countless hours of practice in mind, body and spirit.
The final rounds bell clang to a start in a clinic of skill and sheer willpower. Ryan, driven by a blend of desperation and unwavering determination, unleashed a barrage of calculated and explosive strikes. Each punch and maneuver was a nod to the efficient, no-nonsense Ukrainian style that Robin had imparted to him. Ryan moved rhythmically across the mat, steps measured and precise, executing short, angular movements and deft outside counterpunches. He had returned to his element – the dance of combat, where he felt most alive, a symphony of movement where every step and punch was a testament to his life's journey and experiences as a human being first, and as a fighter second.
In this wake-up call, Ryan reinvigorated and reminded himself of his love for the sport, the exhilarating blend of art and athleticism. He was not just fighting to win; he was celebrating boxing, combat, honouring the path he had walked with Robin, and reclaiming what it meant to be a true fighter through Burklurk Pinsinchai's Teachings.
The round pressed on, and Ryan executed his maneuvers with a surgeon's precision. First;
-- The counterpuncher; a display in timing and accuracy, delivered with the full force of training and innate skill. --

1. He deftly slipped his opponent's cross, a move as fluid as it was swift.
   
2. He angled off, creating a space wide enough for his next move.
   
3. With an almost predatory precision, Ryan unleashed a powerful right cross, targeting his opponent's cheek from the angle he had just created. But Ryan wasn't done yet.
   
4. He slipped out again, evading any potential counter from his disoriented opponent. The rhythm, he danced in and out with his precise timing, perfected down to inches and angles.
   
5. In a final, decisive movement of the exchange, Ryan slipped in. He timed his step with a long cross that came off-beat, catching his opponent utterly off-guard. The punch landed with a satisfying impact, culminating in a perfectly executed combination. As he watched his opponent stagger, Ryan couldn't help but think, 'cya sleepy boi,' a silent acknowledgment of his dominance in this singular exchange.
   

This sequence was a statement. Ryan was not only back in the fight but also commanding it.
ONE!…TWO!…THREE!…FOUR!…FIVE!…SIX!...SEVEN!..EIGHT!
Ryan's opponent stands, admirable, but futile, driven by sheer will but hampered by sluggish movements, the man rose to his feet, it was clear the fight was reaching its zenith.
The opponent, gathering his remaining strength for a final stand, launched a jab, a last-ditch effort relying more on brute force than finesse. But this was a fatal mistake in Ryan's world – playing right into what Ryan was best at. Counters.
Ryan read the move with the clarity of a seasoned fighter. As the jab came, he effortlessly slipped to the right, evading the punch with a short angular step that spoke of his ring intelligence. Instantly, he countered with the same sharp cross from his right hand, followed by a devastating hook that cut through the air with lethal intent in his left. Grasping at straws, reeling from the counter, Ryans opponent threw a desperate, looping last stand punch, Ryan dipped down and left, rolling the punch with an elegance that made it seem almost effortless. He was Hunting for the Kill Shot. Seizing the moment, Ryan unleashed a ferocious left uppercut, the force of the blow lifting his opponent's chin skyward. He followed up with a right overhand, but just before impact, he halted the punch. There was no need for it; his opponent was already collapsing, the "Lights were on, but no one was Home". The fight was effectively over, Ryan's last combination is the final note, a crescendo that echoed through the ring.
As his opponent hit the canvas, the crowd erupted. Ryan stood in the center of the ring, his chest heaving, every fibre of his being alight with the thrill of victory. This wasn't just a win; it was a performance, a display of skill, heart, and the indomitable spirit of a fighter who had walked through fire and flames to the otherside and emerge victorious.
The final bell Rings with not a single chair in the arena warm; a thunderous clap erupts from the crowd. It was more than just applause; it was an acknowledgment of a battle fiercely fought by both men. In that moment ringside, in a triumphant victory, Ryan and Robin shared a look that spoke volumes, a connection far beyond the usual bounds of mentor and protégé. Their bond, tempered in the crucible of hardship and struggle, was now sealed in the glory of this defining triumph.
Standing amidst the cheers and the adrenaline-fueled euphoria, Ryan found himself momentarily lost in the tide of memories. It was a poignant reminder of the journey that had brought him here, a path marked by triumphs and losses. Robin's teachings transcended the confines of boxing; they were life lessons imprinted deep onto him. Ryan began to slowly step out of the ring; the weight of these reflections settled upon him. The victory was sweet, but it carried the weight of all sacrificed to achieve it. Robin's presence was felt strongly, a guiding force that continued to shape his path, illuminating the way forward even in the most challenging times.

Recently Iñaki had an interview with Mexican Youtuber FullHakiMarco: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aa3mePaqqSw&ab_channel=FullHakiMarco
Here are the most important and new tidbits:
-He had a plushie of Dr.Simi (Mexican drug store mascot) and Viz’s OP volume 1.
-Iñaki mentions he had only used discord some years ago back when he played GTA Online. He downloaded discord just for the interview.
-He had never been on a twitch stream prior to this one.
-Iñaki is studying Japanese 2-3 hours every day.
-Right now he’s reading a Chaplin biography. He considers Chaplin´s humor and physical comedy similar to One Piece’s.
-Every straw hat has visited Mexico already. In fact Iñaki has a tour for his foreign buddies that visit. Jacob even went to Iñaki’s aunt wedding.
-Iñaki and Mackenyu became gym bros while training for OPLA S1. After training they used to play APEX Legends.
-He is a HUGE fan of Nintendo. Loves Mario, Zelda, Metroid, Pikmin, MOTHER (He calls the series MOTHER btw, not Earthbound). Super Mario Galaxy in his opinion is one of the best works of arts ever. His favorite Zelda is Majora’s Mask.
-Iñaki mentions he just went to Similandia. (WTF I didn’t even know there was a Similandia haha.) he gets excited and FullHakiMarco (Interviewer) mentions how Iñaki getting excited for going to Similandia is so Luffy. (Similandia is a park with Dr.Simi stuff basically. Not super big or anything I imagine).
-He knew Luffy from Super Smash Flash. “He is the guy who smiles a lot.”
-At first he didn’t know what the audition was for. Once he knew what the audition was for, he watched a “Who is Luffy?” from a spanish-speaking youtuber while taking a shower. He is asked what youtuber it was, but he doesn’t remember.
-Iñaki watches OP content from Spanish speaking youtubers (In fact he was the one to contact FullHakiMarco for the interviewer).
-When asked about Oda Iñaki says that Oda was very involved in his casting. “Es buen compa”, “He is a cool dude”. And that Oda is always aware of the OPLA stuff.
-Oda-san is reserved but charismatic, friendly, very fun. Very confidant, in a good way. Extremely humble down to earth person. He LOVES eating meat.
-When asked what the rarest thing he saw when he met Oda. Iñaki didn’t want to say too much. He just said “the bathroom/restroom” (Bathroom and restroom are said the same in Spanish…) (I think there are some photos of Oda’s bathrooms so just google them if you are curious).
-Iñaki is currently watching OP anime, right now he´s on Punk Hazard.
-Iñaki is spoiled of current events (He knows of everything that has happened on Egghead).
-Top 3 things Iñaki wants to act: Vivi’s farewell in Alabasta. I want to live. Marineford
-FullHakiMarco teases Iñaki saying he will be 40ish with gray hair and 3 kids and the series would probably not have finished. He asks him if he believes the LA can cover the entirety of the manga. Iñaki doesn´t really respond to this, but he seems confident and nodding. Is not that Iñaki doesn’t want to reply to this tease, but before he was to reply FullHakiMarco continues and asks if they have talked about that, or if Iñaki is worried about that to which Iñaki replies: “I am happy to play Luffy and will play Luffy for as long as it makes sense. Whatever time it takes, if I am playing Luffy is because I am happy to play him, I want to play him, and it makes sense for me to play him.”
-Iñaki wanted to be an actor since he was a kid. He is fond of Luffy because, just like him, he always knew what his goal was. Iñaki mentions that due to his hard work, maybe destiny, maybe just luck and with the help of many people he achieved his goal.
-Talking about goals, FullHakiMarco mentions how some people don’t have the luck, the means, or just don’t try to reach their dreams, he asks Iñaki to motivate the nakamas watching to follow their goals. Iñaki first makes a playful remark mocking viral salesman. Then he says, “Dreams can be accomplished. I say this because it happened to me. Maybe today, tomorrow or in many years… OR maybe never. But as long as you are alive there is a chance for your dream to be achieved. Whether I would have gotten the role of Luffy or not, I would have continued to do what I like. I would have continued trying. Persevering. Destiny can be beautiful, but the best moments are the moments in between your goal and how long it takes. As long as you are doing something you like, it doesn't matter how long it takes for you to be successful. Enjoy the process. I don’t know where I Will be in 10 years, whether I will earn an Oscar or if I won’t be to be in a role. Don’t let anyone mock your dreams.”
-Top 3 Iñaki moments from OPLA S1: When Garp launched the cannon balls and Luffy inflated into a ballon. Nami’s “Help me”. Every scene when Luffy eats. Because Luffy is a savage when he eats. Iñaki spilled some salsa on his lips. The make up artist tried to clean it, but Iñaki said to keep the salsa in his lip.
-When asked why he wanted to be interviewed FullHakiMarco first says some people thought this interview was all a Netflix PR stun for OPLA S2 which Iñaki denies, he said he just wanted FullHakiMarco to interview him. Iñaki says that without fans they (Actors) would be nothing.
-FullHakiMarco then asks Iñaki questions but tells him to answer them as if he was Luffy. Q: His favorite straw hat? A: All of them. Q: Favorite attack? A: All of them. Q: When you poo, is your poop gum too? A: I don’t know. I’ve never checked. Q: Do you think about your mom? A: Nah! Q: Can I join your crew? A: Can you fight? Do you have meat? If you do, you can join.
-Finally Iñaki sings happy birthday (Las mañanitas) to FullHakiMarco. He has a Pinguino (Small cake sold in Mexico) with a small candle on it.
-Iñaki hints at a secret project. (I doubt it’s OP-related).
-In the last part of the interview FullHakiMarco says Iñaki has all the qualities of a great actor. He is talented, disciplined and he has balls to which Iñaki replies, “The crown jewels” (The phrase Luffy mentions when he refers to his balls in Amazon Lily).
-Iñaki mentions if a Luffy skin comes to Fortnite he won’t ever stop playing it.

Recently Iñaki had an interview with Mexican Youtuber FullHakiMarco: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aa3mePaqqSw&ab_channel=FullHakiMarco
Here are the most important and new tidbits:
-He had a plushie of Dr.Simi (Mexican drug store mascot) and Viz’s OP volume 1.
-Iñaki mentions he had only used discord some years ago back when he played GTA Online. He downloaded discord just for the interview.
-He had never been on a twitch stream prior to this one.
-Iñaki is studying Japanese 2-3 hours every day.
-Right now he’s reading a Chaplin biography. He considers Chaplin´s humor and physical comedy similar to One Piece’s.
-Every straw hat has visited Mexico already. In fact Iñaki has a tour for his foreign buddies that visit. Jacob even went to Iñaki’s aunt wedding.
-Iñaki and Mackenyu became gym bros while training for OPLA S1. After training they used to play APEX Legends.
-He is a HUGE fan of Nintendo. Loves Mario, Zelda, Metroid, Pikmin, MOTHER (He calls the series MOTHER btw, not Earthbound). Super Mario Galaxy in his opinion is one of the best works of arts ever. His favorite Zelda is Majora’s Mask.
-Iñaki mentions he just went to Similandia. (WTF I didn’t even know there was a Similandia haha.) he gets excited and FullHakiMarco (Interviewer) mentions how Iñaki getting excited for going to Similandia is so Luffy. (Similandia is a park with Dr.Simi stuff basically. Not super big or anything I imagine).
-He knew Luffy from Super Smash Flash. “He is the guy who smiles a lot.”
-At first he didn’t know what the audition was for. Once he knew what the audition was for, he watched a “Who is Luffy?” from a spanish-speaking youtuber while taking a shower. He is asked what youtuber it was, but he doesn’t remember.
-Iñaki watches OP content from Spanish speaking youtubers (In fact he was the one to contact FullHakiMarco for the interviewer).
-When asked about Oda Iñaki says that Oda was very involved in his casting. “Es buen compa”, “He is a cool dude”. And that Oda is always aware of the OPLA stuff.
-Oda-san is reserved but charismatic, friendly, very fun. Very confidant, in a good way. Extremely humble down to earth person. He LOVES eating meat.
-When asked what the rarest thing he saw when he met Oda. Iñaki didn’t want to say too much. He just said “the bathroom/restroom” (Bathroom and restroom are said the same in Spanish…) (I think there are some photos of Oda’s bathrooms so just google them if you are curious).
-Iñaki is currently watching OP anime, right now he´s on Punk Hazard.
-Iñaki is spoiled of current events (He knows of everything that has happened on Egghead).
-Top 3 things Iñaki wants to act: Vivi’s farewell in Alabasta. I want to live. Marineford
-FullHakiMarco teases Iñaki saying he will be 40ish with gray hair and 3 kids and the series would probably not have finished. He asks him if he believes the LA can cover the entirety of the manga. Iñaki doesn´t really respond to this, but he seems confident and nodding. Is not that Iñaki doesn’t want to reply to this tease, but before he was to reply FullHakiMarco continues and asks if they have talked about that, or if Iñaki is worried about that to which Iñaki replies: “I am happy to play Luffy and will play Luffy for as long as it makes sense. Whatever time it takes, if I am playing Luffy is because I am happy to play him, I want to play him, and it makes sense for me to play him.”
-Iñaki wanted to be an actor since he was a kid. He is fond of Luffy because, just like him, he always knew what his goal was. Iñaki mentions that due to his hard work, maybe destiny, maybe just luck and with the help of many people he achieved his goal.
-Talking about goals, FullHakiMarco mentions how some people don’t have the luck, the means, or just don’t try to reach their dreams, he asks Iñaki to motivate the nakamas watching to follow their goals. Iñaki first makes a playful remark mocking viral salesman. Then he says, “Dreams can be accomplished. I say this because it happened to me. Maybe today, tomorrow or in many years… OR maybe never. But as long as you are alive there is a chance for your dream to be achieved. Whether I would have gotten the role of Luffy or not, I would have continued to do what I like. I would have continued trying. Persevering. Destiny can be beautiful, but the best moments are the moments in between your goal and how long it takes. As long as you are doing something you like, it doesn't matter how long it takes for you to be successful. Enjoy the process. I don’t know where I Will be in 10 years, whether I will earn an Oscar or if I won’t be to be in a role. Don’t let anyone mock your dreams.”
-Top 3 Iñaki moments from OPLA S1: When Garp launched the cannon balls and Luffy inflated into a ballon. Nami’s “Help me”. Every scene when Luffy eats. Because Luffy is a savage when he eats. Iñaki spilled some salsa on his lips. The make up artist tried to clean it, but Iñaki said to keep the salsa in his lip.
-When asked why he wanted to be interviewed FullHakiMarco first says some people thought this interview was all a Netflix PR stun for OPLA S2 which Iñaki denies, he said he just wanted FullHakiMarco to interview him. Iñaki says that without fans they (Actors) would be nothing.
-FullHakiMarco then asks Iñaki questions but tells him to answer them as if he was Luffy. Q: His favorite straw hat? A: All of them. Q: Favorite attack? A: All of them. Q: When you poo, is your poop gum too? A: I don’t know. I’ve never checked. Q: Do you think about your mom? A: Nah! Q: Can I join your crew? A: Can you fight? Do you have meat? If you do, you can join.
-Finally Iñaki sings happy birthday (Las mañanitas) to FullHakiMarco. He has a Pinguino (Small cake sold in Mexico) with a small candle on it.
-Iñaki hints at a secret project. (I doubt it’s OP-related).
-In the last part of the interview FullHakiMarco says Iñaki has all the qualities of a great actor. He is talented, disciplined and he has balls to which Iñaki replies, “The crown jewels” (The phrase Luffy mentions when he refers to his balls in Amazon Lily).
-Iñaki mentions if a Luffy skin comes to Fortnite he won’t ever stop playing it.

As always, thank you to u/SpacePaladin15 for the wonderful universe that is NoP! Thank you to u/cruisingNW for proof reading and helping me make this chapter as good as it can be, you're the man! Honestly LoM wouldn't have gone very far without him! If you haven't you should absolutely go read Foundations of Humanity! It's very good AND it just updated!
A big thanks to u/Saint-Andros for helping with proofreading! He writes Out of Our Elements which is a very good one! If you like a good fic in the wilderness and a pair of cute 'friends' ;) you'll love OOE!
Also thank you to u/brotanics! For this wonderful fanart of Taisa. And this one! She's so cute I'm gonna die
And thank you to u/Jimdandy117! For this adorable fanart of Chris and Renkel! Dear god help he's adorable I love him so much
Thank you u/SlimyRage, or AsciiSquid on Discord, for makin' Vengineer Taisa Gamin'. She's absolutely adorable, I love her lil' workers apron. She looks so excited to get to work!
Thank you u/Braquen! For this astounding Pixel Art of Taisa after a few range day dates with Chris! Her little hat and gunbelt are absolutely astounding!
Thank you u/VeryUnluckyDice! For this Artwork of Taisa and Chris as characters from One Piece! I've never seen or read it before but it's incredibly cute!
Thank you to u/creditmission for their wonderful work of several LoM fanfics!
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Memory Transcription Subject: Taisa, Venlil Starship Engineer, Crystal Star Shipping Co-Owner
Date [Standardized Human Time]: October 16th, 2136
My ear twitches as it catches the first sounds of morning coming from the kitchen, and Chris snorts at the sudden interruption. I delight in the comforting pull of his arms, even if it tugs my wool a little. He draws small circles in the wool of my back, gently coaxing me to wake alongside him, even as his groggy grumble reminds me how long I’d already been awake.
“G’Mornin, Darlin’.” He yawns before planting a small kiss on my snout, eagerly met by my own happy mewl as I stretched and wove my claws through the ‘wool’ on his chest, “Sleep well?”
“Better than I would have thought…” I purred, nuzzling up into his neck as I stretched, reaching for my pad on the bed-side before flicking it on to a notification from over a claw ago that it’d lost signal. “Don’t know if Mama even responded.”
“I’m sorry, Darlin’.” He whispered, pulling me in tight to his chest with a sorrowful look on his face.
“I hope they’re alright.” I whispered back, pressing in close as I pulled my eyes from the empty screen, dropping the pad to fall into the mattress beside us.
“I’m sure they are, hon’.” Chris’ voice poured through me as he held me tight, his hands still gently caressing my wool as the sounds in the kitchen grew ever louder. “Though, if’n we make it out the other side of all this, I think your Pa’s gonna have words for me again.”
“Mama too!” A small burble of whistling laughter filled my throat at the memory of Papa angrily jabbing a claw up at Chris’ hulking form when we’d returned from The Cradle.
“I’ll bet they’re happier to see us alive than they will be angry we stayed.” Chris rumbled in reply, his hand trailing lightly through my wool down my back.
“I hope so.” I sighed, stretching in his grasp, doing my best to work the lethargy from my limbs as the tantalizing taste of whatever Darlene was cooking reached my tongue. “For now let's just…”
“Get through this as best we can? Agreed.” Chris grunted, finishing my hanging sentence as he propped himself up against a pile of pillows and suddenly pulled me against him. A soft bleat of surprise slipped from my mouth, quickly silenced by a wonderfully warm kiss that I eagerly pressed into. A small smile crossed his lips as we hung there, separated by no more than a breath of air before he spoke. “Smells like Ma’s makin’ up somethin’ delicious.”
“Of course food is the first thing your mind goes to once you’re actually awake.” I laughed, my tail slipping from his leg to playfully tap the side of his face as I slid down to nuzzle his neck.
“When Ma’s cookin’ you bet it is!” He replied, placing another, softer kiss on my crown before shifting out beneath me and rising to his feet with a stretch and a yawn. “‘Sides, it beats stayin’ in bed all day just… waitin’.”
“Yea, yea I suppose it does.” My ears drooped at the mention of what was coming, that hanging specter of the Extermination Fleet slipping to the forefront of my mind as I ran my claws through my wool, peering into the old mirror in the corner. “What did you want to do today?”
“First: eat breakfast. Then we feed the cows real quick ‘fore they get upset. After that, I figure we go up to the peak again and watch the lightshow. Hidin’ won’t do us no good anyhow, least we can have a nice view if’n it all comes down.” He answered, his voice stiff in its attempts to be nonchalant, doing his best to stay upbeat despite the subject. “Make a few sandwiches and snacks, take a nice hike and just watch.”
“Think that’ll help at all?” I asked, my voice only just louder than a whisper as I turned from the mirror, finding him already dressed and, for the most part, groomed.
“No clue, but I bet it’ll feel a lot better than sitting in a dank hole waiting for it to end anyhow.” Chris shrugged, pulling his hat down tight on his head as he bent over to give me another kiss. “‘Sides, I bet Roscoe’d love to find his way along for a bit. Though you might have to fight him o’er the peaches.”
A jolt of surprise flicked up my ears as I felt my tail wag at the thought of the dog joyfully chomping at the peaches, his little shoot-tail wagging as fast as he could manage. “That does sound nice…”
“Thought you’d like that. Now, how’s ‘bout we get some breakfast?” He asked with a smile, stepping to the door with a sure stride before swinging it open and gesturing me through. “After you, Hon’.”
The delightful, familiar taste of sizzling potatoes, carrots and all manner of spices I couldn’t recognize filled the air as we stepped into the kitchen to find Darlene hard at work over the stove, whistling happily as she was surrounded by what I thought had to be the entire kitchen’s worth of pots, pans, skillets and tools. Michael and Ryan were sat at the island across from her, chatting idly as Roscoe happily trotted to Chris and I.
A twitch of fear zipped down my spine and out of my tail as the dog looked up to me, letting out a soft whine as he licked his chops and plopped to the floor before rolling over to show Chris and I his belly.
“Good Morn’ Roscoooe! Time for some belly rubs, ol’ buddy.” Chris cooed, stooping over to vigorously rub at the dogs belly, eliciting a rising rumble of groans, pants and whines as the brown and white mass of fur wiggled back and forth happily. “You happy to see Taisa again, bud?”
A lolling, pink tongue fell from Roscoe’s mouth as he basked in the moment of adoring attention. I glanced up, finding Chris’ parents and Ryan watching me hover off to Chris’ side. Michael gave me a nod and a small smile, gently encouraging me forward to Chris’ side. “He still won’t bite ya, unless’n ya consider over-eager kisses to be bitin’.”
The light warmth of a small bloom spread under my wool as I stepped forward, crouching at Chris’ side. Worry flashed through my mind while I looked down at Roscoe’s glistening, pointed teeth before being rapidly replaced by amusement as he let out an adorable, appreciative grunt that sounded far too much like Papa after settling into a good bath to relax.
You’ve come this far already, he was plenty gentle last time you were here paw-feeding him peaches.
My paw slipped into his fur, met by a warm, soft blanket that I hadn’t fully expected as I slowly massaged my claws through his coat, eliciting another battery of pleased groans. Before I knew it, both of my paws were hard at work rubbing and scratching though his fur as if I weren’t touching a predator like it was nothing to be worried about.
Maybe because it isn’t. You’re in love with one, after all.
The distinct clink of plates being set on the countertop snapped me from the luxurious fur of Roscoe’s coat as Darlene’s sing-song voice filled the air. “Breakfast is served!”
“Taisa, I couldn’t rightly convince Michael or Ryan to give up a Naw’lins breakfast today but don’chu worry. I’ve got the vegan options set aside for ya in the green bowls and the blue carton next to the coffee is the vanilla oat…” She paused a moment, obviously searching her mind for a ‘better’ word than whatever the actual one was. “Juice? It’s good to cut the coffee with, if’n it’s a bit too strong for ya. Oh! And the orange pitcher is orange juice if ya really don’t like the coffee!”
I looked across the table, finding four green bowls and a platter amongst a scattered sea of different colored bowls, platters and trays. Ryan leaned forward, gently sticking his fork into a thin, flaky white slab sat atop a blue plate before setting it onto his own.
Is that…
Does it really matter anymore?
Chris pulled his eyes from the spread of food in front of us, glancing over at me with worried eyes as the rest of his family set about preparing their own plates. He slipped into a stool with a soft creak, pulling a plate in front of himself before settling a napkin across his lap. Another zip of fear bolted down my tail at the thought of my Love digging into a cut of flesh like his brother was. I could feel my ears swiveling with anxiety as my tail all but twisted itself into knots and I watched him gently skewer a few pieces of fruit and collect a scoop of some steaming medley of vegetables.
Is Chris going to?
It's lab-grown, isn’t it? Not a single animal was hurt making it so why shouldn’t he? Is it really any worse than a plant when it’s grown in a lab?
My wool flared with worry as I settled into the stool next to him, nervously fidgeting with the plate and ‘fork’ in front of me as I watched Chris’ family take their picks of the spread on the table. Each one had picked at least something off the… other plates before picking a few pieces of fruit: a steaming helping of rice and vegetables, a scoop of those delicious crispy tubers Papa loved or whatever those fluffy, golden pillows were off the green dishes. Chris looked over to me again, his gaze making me feel like I was little more than an upset pup about to throw a fit for not being entirely comfortable.
Disappointment…
That’s not what he thinks and you know it.
But what if he does? What if I a-
You’re not. And we already knew what he was when we made our decision. It had to happen sometime, didn’t it?
I let out a soft sigh, placing a paw on his thigh and meeting his eye as he took a crunchy bite from an apple. “Chris, what do you want to eat?”
“I’m fine with some fr-” He started, talking between chews of his apple, earning an annoyed look from Darlene.
“No, not what you’re fine with, what do you want to eat?” I repeated, pressing my paw a little tighter to his leg as my tail found its way around his ankle. “I… you don’t have to try and dance around what you are for my sake, Love. I love you for you, not your diet. If I could get past the eyes I can get past this.”
“You sure?” He whispered, glancing from me to that same plate he’d kept looking at in the middle of the table with a few cuts of pink and speckled black meat on it. “I don’t wanna ma-”
“Chris, you’ve done nothing but take supplements, indulge Papa’s cooking and eat a genuinely concerning volume of string-fruit for the past few herds. Yes, I’m sure.” I answered, patting his leg and taking a deep breath before watching as he looked to his family for a moment and then back to me.
Chris’ mouth hung open as he tried to stammer a response, some assurance, some empty ‘I’m fine’, before he sighed, setting his hand softly on mine and squeezing gently before I turned my paw over to squeeze back. “… Thank you, Darlin’. Mama’s blackened Red-Drum n’ grits ‘re worth it, I promise you that.”
“Go for it, big-guy.” I purred, doing my best to bolster my confidence as he leaned forward to take a scoop of the off-white grain, dropping it into a bowl before gently laying a sliver of pink and black flesh across the top of it.
A silver spoon cut a piece of the meat free along with a scoop of the ‘grits’, he drew in a deep breath as it hung just before his mouth, closing his eyes with a small smile that reminded me all too much of Mama when Papa made one of her Mama’s recipes. The spoon slipped into his mouth, the food disappearing with it, prompting a pleasant groan from Chris before he leaned back in his chair and let out a contented sigh. “Stars I’ve missed that. No offense to your Pa’ but ain’t nothin’ beat’s Ma’s cookin’.”
“I t-think he might contest that.” I replied, as a shiver passed through my wool at the thought before I quickly batted it away, doing my best to plant my foot against the building anxiety in my chest. “What should I have?”
“Can’t go wrong with Ma’s pancakes and some maple syrup! Fluffy as all hell and just as sweet.Fully Vegan too!” He replied, pointing to the golden pillows before breaking off another chunk of flesh as his voice turned mischievous. “‘Tween that, some fruit and a good helping of roasted vegetables, I’m not sure you could fit much else.”
“Excuse you! I can eat my fill plenty!” I bleated back, pulling my eyes from the contents of his bowl to look over the ‘pancakes’, catching a trio of amused eyes watching us as we bickered. Defiantly I leaned forward and skewered one, plopping it on my plate before collecting the flask of brown syrup, dumping a hardy portion on top of it and cutting a slice free to pop into my mouth.
Stars above was he right.
The dough all but melted in my mouth, the nutty sweetness of the syrup mixed with the light airy taste of the pancake to make something that far outstripped any dessert Strayu I’d ever had. I found myself letting out a trill of happiness as I took another bite, my tail wagging ecstatically at each delicious chew before my plate was suddenly empty again.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone go through one of Ma’s Vegan pancakes quite that fast other’n Annie.” Ryan laughed before skewering another few golden brown chunks of potato and popping them in his mouth.
“Well lucky for her, seconds are an option!” Darlene replied with a broad grin, gently cutting her meal up as she watched me reach for another delicious pancake. “So, what are you two getting up to today?”
“Well,” Chris mumbled past a mouthful of his food, holding a fist to his mouth seemingly appeasing her, even if only just, before continuing. “I’s figurin’ we’ll take care of feedin’ the cow’s for y’all ‘fore we head up to the outlook to… watch.”
“Oh! Thank you, Son.” Michael responded, sliding his now clean plate away from himself as he spoke. “Guess Ryan an’ I can get some work done in the garage then!”
“I’ll have some snacks and a good dinner ready for you two when you’re done! Won’t do to go up there and be hungry!” Darlene exclaimed, a flash of excitement in her eyes as she started to rattle off options she could have ready for us to take up.
“Thank you Ma’. Whatever you decide on I’m sure we’ll love it.” Chris stated, a small smile pulling at the corners of his face as he scooped the last of the grits from his bowl.
It’s like nothing’s even happening to them. Just like it’s another normal paw.
[Advance Transcript by Time Unit: 8 Hours]
The silence of the forest around us echoed with the sounds of calling birds and rustling leaves that sounded strikingly familiar to the preserves at home, the dragging weight of a ‘lunch box’ that was positively stuffed to the brim with food hung on my shoulder as we steadily plodded our way up the mountainside. The sky far above had shifted, the pale blues and white clouds of day deepening into streaking purples, fiery oranges and brilliant yellows as the sun had begun to set. It still amazed me that he got to see the night every paw, watching what Heartwood River had built an entire festival around, something that most Venlil never even saw in the first place was so common, so beautiful.
It was astoundingly, beautifully, breathtaking.
Chris’ heavy footfalls a few tails ahead pulled me from my thoughts, the soft, hollow clunk of his guitar on his hip accompanied the jangling clink of the golden buckles on his rifle’s sling as he spoke. “Not much farther now, Darlin’. You still good carryin’ dinner? I can take it off ya’ ‘til we get to the top if’n ya need.”
I stifled a snicker as I readjusted the strap, picking up my pace so I wasn’t slowing us down. “I’m fine. Not like I’m gonna let you carry everything, Heartwood. Besides, lower gravity certainly helps!”
“Oh? You gonna jump up to give me another kiss?” He laughed, slowing his stride for a few steps to let me catch up. “Certainly wouldn’t mind any.”
“Oh really? Maybe I will!”” I purred back, sticking my tongue out at him as he shifted the rifle around to rest against his back, prompting another thought to surface in my mind. “Why’d you bring the revolver and the rifle?”
He gave a noncommittal shrug and grunt, his hand rising to rest on the gleaming pistol as the holster squeaked and groaned a little under the weight. “Just… feels like somethin’ I can control in all this. ‘Sides, she’s like an old good luck charm. Pappy always told me I’d never be alone so long’s I kept a good rifle by my side when things got rough. I figure there ain’t nothin’ much rougher’n this.”
A soft mewl of understanding slipped from my snout as the path beneath our feet leveled out, the trees in front of us fading away to a vast expanse of rising mountain peaks and deep, tree filled valleys framing the setting sun like a perfectly placed photograph. “Mama always seems to feel better when she’s got that old rifle of hers around, said having it nearby always calmed her nerves.”
“I’m surprised that monster doesn’t knock her on her ass! I need to get her to let me send some rounds through that thing sometime to feel it out.” He replied with a smile, gently setting his old wooden guitar down, leaning it against the low edge of the rock outcropping before slinging his rifle free and bringing it to his shoulder to look out across the valley. “Ol’ Isabella ain’t never let me down, she’s like a lucky charm ‘s far as I’m concerned.”
“I know you said your ‘Pappy’ gave her to you for those competitions you two used to go to, but I don’t think you ever told me why it was that gun specifically.” I asked, nonchalantly setting my load down on top of the rock outcropping, doing my best to hide the wag in my tail as I tried to nudge him into rambling again. It was always cute when he got excited about something.
Same thing he said about me getting tail deep in oil, spare parts and burnt carbon.
“Ol’ Izzy? She’s a Henry Model ‘60. Same gun the ‘hero’ used in one of our favorite movies set back in the eighteen hundreds, or at least a really nice replica with some customizations Pappy and I had ‘our’ gunsmith down in town do.” He answered, slipping the lever down with the sweet sound of well maintained linkages and religiously oiled parts.
“What’d you have them do?” I asked, leering around his side to stare up at the rifle in his hands, my ears raised with interest as he lowered it and crouched to my height to show me.
“Most of it was to do with the action, bringin’ her up to competition grade. Lightening a few parts here, strengthening a few bolts there, tightening up some linkages over yonder. Cleaned out the rifling, added a loop lever and made the trigger feather weight. Top it all off with the blackout finish to make the gold pop against her ebony furniture and damn if she ain’t pretty.” He let out a chuckle as he polished a smudge from the rifle’s gleaming flank, a fond look on his face as he brought his eyes up to cast a gaze out across the mountain range. “Hell, Pappy always used to joke that she ‘was the only woman that boy’d ever need’. Mama never was a fan of that one...”
Stars I love it when he gets like this.
“Is that normal, for Humans?”
“Hmm?”
“Getting that attached to a firearm? Mama used to spend a whole half-claw taking her rifle apart, oiling it, checking the connections and making sure everything was right before putting it back together again. She said it helped calm her down when her leg hurt.”
“Firearms specifically? No, not really, most people just have something what’s important to them for one reason or another. Pa’s ol’ telescope was another gift from Pappy and whenever he gets stressed out he just sits there and stares up at the sky with it. Ma’ loves her ol’ mixer from the restaurant, anytime she gets wired she dives straight into making something to keep her hands busy…” He sighed as his hands tightened around the rifle for a moment before he leaned it against the rock outcrop and sat down. “For me, Izzy’s one of the few things that ain’t family that’s always been there and… she’s really the last thing I have of Pappy… Man, I miss him sometimes.”
“He sounds like he meant a lot to you, Heartwood… I wish I’d gotten to meet him.”
“He did, Darlin’... He sure did.”
Silence fell between the two of us as I slipped down to sit beside him, the only sounds around us those of the forest itself and the hollow, musical winds of the valleys beyond. Chris’ hand found my back, my tail slipping tight around his wrist as I pressed into him. Everything was quiet again as we watched the sun dip below the distant horizon, the spectrum of vibrant colors slipping away to the deep black-blue of night and its tapestry of stars.
Stars above but that moon was beautiful.
I’d seen it last time we were here, but not like this. This time it was massive, a glowing white spot-light casting down onto us, the rising mountains and the rest of Earth below it. A dusting of black dots zipped back and forth in front of it, Earth’s defenders settling into their final preparations as the Extermination fleet no doubt closed in.
Like it's trying to shine a little light of its own.
Michael had shown us video from one of Earth’s orbital telescopes of the U.N.’s opening salvo, a veritable basin of FTL propelled asteroids they had managed to drop from warp just in front of the fleet had sent them scampering out of the way as best they could. More than a few Federation ships had been turned to scrap-piles against the rocks while a few pawfuls more slammed into each other in their panic. It was crafty, that was certain, I’d never seen anything even close to it tried before in any of the history books I’d read. Humanity, it seemed, was pulling out all the stops they could think of.
I’d be lying if I said it didn’t give me at least a little hope.
“What was the movie?” I asked, breaking the silence with a whisper, doing my best to lift the mood back up to something positive. I nuzzled his neck gently before I rose, padding over to root around in the bag to find what Darlene had packed for us.
“Old western flick, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. ‘Bout a few outlaws durin’ the civil war a few hundred years ago tryin’ to steal a bunch of gold and what not. I’d show it to you but… well it’s kinda violent. Don’t think it even made it near the data-dump.”
“Heartwood, after what we’ve gone through I think a ‘rather violent’ movie is the least of things to be concerned about me bolting off for. Once this is all over I think a claw spent curled up in bed watching a movie would be well deserved.”
“Well… it’s a bit more than thaaaat.” He stated, his voice stretching as I heard the smile I knew was spreading on his face fill his voice clear as the river. “That’s the last movie in the saga, can’t just watch one!”
“Then we can make a whole paw of it!” I replied, my voice a happy, joking purr as I pulled the first platter of vegetables and ‘nut-cheeses’ from inside the bag before meandering back over to Chris. “Get some more of that ‘sushi’ from the place you won’t shut up about in Tokyo, put the movies on the holo-viewer in our cabin and just relax.”
“Damn if that don’t sound like a nice date night to me.” He replied, reaching up to snag a slice of apple from the tray as I set it on the rock in front of me.
He glanced over, meeting my eyes as we sat and watched the gathering storm in the void beyond, his voice strong and confident as he spoke, even if his inflection was still horrible. “I love you, Tai… Whatever happens, I love you.”
“I love you too, Chris.” I affirmed, staring back into his eyes before placing my crown gently to his forehead. “Whatever happens.”
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https://imgur.com/gallery/OSqJ0dv
I saw this used somewhere but cant remember. I need this for my instalock reynas. I know theres a discord filled with valorant ascii art but they did not have this one. Does anyone know where to find it or have it saved?

How do I go about a code to take in strings and return ASCII art? Probably using maps