So Based On That Last Ask With King Arthur Is He Choosing To Fall In Love With Gwen Even If She Has A

what hasn’t been taken from you?

A bit of a strange question, but if there were any of your videos you were to "remake" today for any reason (ex: you feel like you misrepresented the original text or spread misinformation), which would it be and why? None of them is a perfectly valid answer

Again: bit of a strange question, but I've been thinking about my own creations and how I could have done so much better with some of them, but I also know that is a sign of my growth and constantly chasing "what if I did this instead" isn't always healthy for nurturing a creative mindset, and I was wondering what your opinion might be as a Creator of Things with a bit more experience than I

There's been a few trope talks where I've thought later of other angles I could've explored that might warrant sequels or part 2s, but I don't dislike any of the summaries enough to justify a rework.

I always find "I could've done this better if I made it now" to be a bit of a fallacy. I'm only better at making things now because I made all those earlier things. If I knew everything I'd learn from making a project before I started the project, it wouldn't come out the same.

I think when it comes to the "rework remake perfect" instinct, it helps to zero in on what the impulse is really grounded in. In my experience, more often than not, it's not actually about making the art better, except incidentally. It's usually about showing that you are better. It's demonstrating your competence and your higher standards and your skills, and more importantly it's overwriting the proof that you were once less than perfect. If people look at your old work and think that's all you're capable of, they'll be judging you poorly!

If that's the motivator, it's a very unhelpful one. You can't control for being harshly or incorrectly judged. It's a fruitless effort to stave off potentially upsetting outdated criticism, and it's not even going to work. Fear of critique is an unreliable and untrustworthy motivator.

If it really is about making the art itself better, perfecting your magnum opus with your newly leveled-up skills, that's a little more solid. But from where I'm standing, it's always better to use those skills to make something new instead of polishing something old. The older, unpolished work has already acquired its audience that finds it appealing for reasons that might never occur to you. Trying to bury or overwrite it just deprives that audience of the thing they like, and maybe makes them feel bad for having liked it in the first place. Also, usually when you look back on the older work, you'll conclude that the problem is everything and it'll need to be torn down and started from scratch. I know when I revisited the first three chapters of the comic, when I let my critic brain spin up, it wasn't shading or lineart I wanted to fix - it was panel composition, overall pacing, the entire structure of the chapters as a whole. I would've had to make them all over again to be happy with them, and they wouldn't be the same story by the end.

I've been thinking a lot about the Discworld through this lens lately. It ended up over 40 books long, but everyone agrees that the first two are not what you should start with, because they're the worst ones. They're entirely parodic, purely referential of at-the-time major fantasy series, and borderline mean-spirited in places. If you haven't read Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser and Dragonriders of Pern, you're not gonna understand like a full 50% of The Colour Of Magic.

It's clear that when he started in on them, Pratchett was entirely focused on taking the piss out of a genre he found mostly shallow and unimpressive. But the Discworld wouldn't leave his head, and everything he made fun of he clearly eventually found himself overthinking. He'd make little one-off jokes in the early books about Dwarves having no women and a hundred words for gold, and then twenty books later he'd have a Dwarf gender revolution make waves across the Disc, and then he'd write Thud!, a book that delves deeper into the nuances of Dwarf societal structure than Tolkien ever did.

If you look for them, there are continuity errors everywhere in Discworld. In his introductory book, Carrot defused a dwarf bar full of rowdy brawlers by guilting them all into writing to their poor lonely mothers back home. Shortly thereafter, Carrot will be outraged at the mere concept of an openly female dwarf. Pratchett even eventually wrote Thief of Time, a book that loosely explains that the Disc makes no sense because history has been broken and put back together incorrectly twice, and therefore any continuity errors are because of that.

He's the writer. He could've gone back and fixed it, edited the reprints to be less disruptively discontinuous with the later books. Instead he continuously moved forward and allowed the world he made to grow without cutting it off from its roots. And because he didn't bury his older, far worse work, we have the privilege of following the Disc's evolution from the very start, and seeing how this shallow, stock fantasy world parody became something incredibly rich and complex without ever pretending like its early installments never happened.

Anyway, that's why I think it's better to move forward. You make more good stuff that way.

character misses their shot and the villain goes "ha! you missed." and the main character goes "did i?" and then shoots the villain again while they're frantically looking around the room for what the hero could possibly have aiming for instead

this poem is about being nonbinary.

Slowly making my way through the TOTK B roll stream, had a few thoughts on the emptiness of the sky islands. In a way, would it not be more surprising if there were more remains to be seen? Ignoring the whole 'it's a game, decisions were made by the developers' bit, nature can take over surprisingly quickly in the right circumstances. In a way, it's more surprising so much survived in BOTW (like the bomb hut ruins. Fire damaged wood? Should be gone in a decade or two anyway). (contd)

So the thing about the Sky Islands in Tears of the Kingdom is that, not only are the ruins fairly well-preserved - presumably due to having been in the Sacred Realm for the last 10,000+ years - but even with them damaged and tumbledown, it's fairly clear from the layout of the islands and their structures that they were not residences. That's not something that would've been lost to erosion and time, that's something foundational to the architecture of the place.

When the game designers want to show a place people live on the surface of Hyrule, they hit a few key points: distinct-looking homes with beds, places that make food, and an inn for travelers. The buildings are different sizes, decorated or personalized by the residents. They're laid out relative to one another in a way that allows for easy, convenient traversal. It's intentional design that makes the villages feel lived-in, cozy, and worth protecting.

Inside the buildings, little details show the presence of living people, even if the building is empty at the time. Table settings, notebooks, pictures on the walls. They feel like they've been shaped by the influence of people, living and working and customizing their environment.

These are all, to be fair, things that we wouldn't expect to last very long if the town fell to ruin. When we explore the sky islands, we aren't expecting to find well-preserved paper maps or notebooks or anything. But if they were lived-in - if they were Zonai population centers rather than temples, ritual centers and factories - that would still be reflected in the basic layout of the structure itself. A residence is designed to accommodate for every basic need, meaning we'd expect the buildings to have places for them to sleep, to eat, and to relax. On the Sky Islands, we find none of these things.

The most common buildings on the sky islands are these isolated stone one-room ruins. They look and feel like storehouses - a few pots, some crumbled masonry. No doors or interior rooms for privacy, no comforts, no sign of a place to sleep, no adjoining buildings. These things were never homes.

The Great Sky Island is the only really plausible candidate for a place the Zonai might've actually lived, being about town-sized with several buildings, but it's not laid out like one. The buildings are either small one-room storage sheds or the massive Temple of Time, and there's no sign of other specialized buildings that could have been used for things like food, rest or other necessities. The Great Sky Island feels like a large, beautiful public park built grafted onto the Temple of Time.

The larger dungeons are more internally complicated, but not in the way that residences are complicated. The water dungeon looks like some kind of huge open park - wide avenues, plazas, devices built for mobility. It feels like a place meant to be traversed and admired, not stayed in.

The wind dungeon is more clearly built as a weapon platform, nowhere we expect people to live. It makes sense that it feels sterile and lifeless.

The larger, more complicated sky islands are also designed for clear utility. The spheres are some sort of celestial observatories, featuring a control system, a treasure chest, and nothing else.

Wildcards like Lightcast Island were clearly built to serve a single purpose - in this case, a lighthouse and attached microdungeon - but contain no signs of life. Zonai came here for a reason, but they didn't stay.

The glide challenge islands are visually impressive, but ultimately the rings are empty - they don't even have structures on them. They exist for the dive challenge and nothing else.

Same deal with the labyrinths, which exist explicitly as puzzles and challenges.

The mines in the depths are also clearly structured for utility - storerooms, construct part repositories and a lot of conveyer belts for moving zoanite. The purpose of the building is very clear just from the layout, and these are not places where anyone was supposed to be staying outside of work hours.

This, along with the layout of towns on the surface, shows that the designers are very good at constructing architecture that reflects the in-story utility of a place, which means the lack of signs of life in the sky islands is not a limitation of the console or the imagination of the artists - it's an intentional design choice.

The end result of all of this? The Sky Islands feel like somewhere that the Zonai built and visited, but not where they lived. They feel cold and unwelcoming and liminal. There's no sense of loss or tragedy, just a feeling of emptiness - people used to come here, but they don't anymore. There's none of the poignancy of an empty dining table's unused place settings or an abandoned child's toy. None of the Sky Islands that descended during the Upheaval were places where the Zonai lived. At the peak of their power they were mistaken for gods, a massively thriving technologically advanced civilization - I'd expect their homes to be cities, towers of jade and marble bustling with the activity of a post-scarcity utopia. None of the Sky Islands show us anything like that, and given how well the designers can portray a lived-in place even without any people in it, this is assuredly intentional. The Zonai built and visited and used the Sky Islands we can explore, but as a whole they lived somewhere else.

But throughout it all, there's this pervading unease - the fact that there's no obvious tragedy makes the sky islands feel more unnerving. We know just enough of the story to infer that something happened to the Zonai - something bad, if we read into Rauru and Mineru's reaction - but whatever it was left no scars. The Zonai constructs don't even realize anything's amiss. The buildings have been damaged only by time and gravity; the forges and mines and observatories and temples are silent and abandoned, like the Zonai all went home one night for dinner and just never came back.

The Sky Islands don't feel dead, they feel lifeless. A place people passed through but didn't leave their mark on. When Link traverses the islands, he isn't just alone - he doesn't even have the comfort of signs of life. The only evidence he has that anyone ever came to these islands are the fact that somebody built them in the first place. They left no marks, no art, no notes, no diaries, no toys, no graffiti. They're just gone.

Had to doll up the gang as DC characters for spooky season! Believe it or not, the rainbow was an unintentional side effect! Extra candy to whoever ID's everyone.

Fulgrim

or

Your downfall can never be too theatrical

So during a PlayOn Tabletop live stream, someone asked if nids had toe beans. This lead to the cursed creation of Beans the Hormacat. And who else to own him, by everyone's favorite necron.

There will be more hijinks coming.

Top reasons for there to be a kneeling knight emoji

- Defending women online

- Offering women support when they are in distress

- Commenting on a woman's selfie

- Offering to kill people bothering your online friend

- Sexual reasons

It was requested on the official discord server that I send you this

nothing personell kid