i just thought of jack having the reflex to grab at his hip for the service radio to tell atlas where he is and what’s going on long after he leaves rapture and gets older and i wILL CRY
Jack kept the radio. He didn’t know why, really. It sat heavy on his waistband when he was around the house and sat even heavier on his nightstand. It was old now, its screws a bit rusty from where the seawater got into it back down below. Back in Rapture. He was certain it didn’t work now, outdated, obsolete, just like his memories. But he would push that button anyway, the solid click shooting through his hands like every other time he’s handled it. Sometimes Jack was speechless, opening his mouth as if to speak into it before releasing the button wordlessly. Occasionally he’d simply forget, start talking into it if he just couldn’t figure something out, or even reach out when it wasn’t there and find a moment to panic.
Even years later it haunted him when the girls were all in bed and he was alone with his thoughts. He’d palm it, fiddling with the dial and the lights that wouldn’t come to life anymore. After a few minutes of the button’s depress it’d tumble out, all of it, his thoughts and fears and he’d be back down there again, amongst the decay and the mold and the blood. It wouldn’t be until he was flat on his back, sweating through the matress that he’d come back to himself, a little less lost, a little more guidance in his veins.
A few nights before his daughter’s wedding, what he was sure would be the first of many he would sit through, Jack had one of these nights. The moon was bright and kept him from being consumed by darkness. He was surrounded by the same old bed, the same old sweaters, the same old radio and the same old hands. He looked at it and sighed, gathering himself up before nervous fingers made the telltale button resonate in the room.
“A-Atlas,” he muttered to it, before releasing the trigger again. His hands shook, lifting the reciever to his mouth to continue.
A crackle made him freeze as he went to speak again.
Random Headcanon: Ronald McDonald regenerates when killed, horror movie monster style, but the Burger King’s immortality is dependent on serial reincarnation. That’s why the latter tends to disappear from the public eye for a couple of decades every now and then; when Ronald loses a fight in their eternal struggle for dominion over all fast food, he’s fine in like a week, but when the King goes down, he needs to wait for his reincarnation to grow up.
(Though this would seem to give Ronald an insurmountable advantage, it’s less decisive than you’d think, because Ronald is actually kind of terrible in a fight. The knowledge that he only needs to win once makes him sloppy.)
Quite so. The Colonel is older than Ronald, and even the King, but his reach is bound by the fact that he can’t affect the material world on his own – he’s strictly limited by the capabilities of his current corporeal host. Like all elder ghosts, however, he can cast a mean curse, so it’s best to tread carefully in his court.
Wendy’s a tough one to pin down. Once a mere figurehead empress, she’s taken a more active hand in the politics of the Fast Food Wars since her father’s mysterious disappearance scarcely a decade past. Nobody’s quite sure what her deal is; to all appearances, she’s a perfectly ordinary fourteen-year-old girl – but she’s been fourteen for a long, long time.
Collecting a variety of requests:
The Taco Bell Chihuahua is gone. In her hubris, she challenged the Colonel to single combat, who unhinged his jaw like a snake and swallowed her whole. Nobody’s quite prepared to say she’s dead, since the powers of the Fast Food Wars have been known to come back from worse, but it’s been fifteen years now, and few expect her return.
The Five are a sinister cabal who eschew personal names and identities, being known only by their collective title. The secret to their power is that they’re actually a telepathic hive-mind; though their members are technically mortal, the collective itself can recover from individual losses as long as at least one of them survives.
Despite its icy clime, the Dairy Queen’s kingdom flows with milk and honey. Her subjects are well-fed and happy and want for nothing – but there’s always something brittle about their smiles. In truth, beneath her jolly facade, their glorious sorcerer-queen’s heart is as cold as her realm: all shall love her and despair.
The Caesar is an anomaly in the Fast Food Wars: a mortal who contends with gods. What he lacks in personal prowess, he makes up for with his vast armies and spy networks. The title is non-hereditary; the current Caesar ascended to the throne in the traditional fashion: by literally stabbing his predecessor in the back.
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick – though the Fast Food Wars’ fields are bestrode by giants, all know to fear the Giant-Slayer. Cursed by the Old Gods to the form of a child’s toy for some forgotten jape, Jack rules still from his castle in the clouds. A wildcard in the Wars, he’s as likely to decimate his own realm in a fit of pique as he is to march against others.
It has latterly been revealed that the previous Caesar survived his assassination, making his way in secret to the frozen lands, where he became vassal – and, some whisper, consort – to the Dairy Queen. The mark of his successor’s poisoned spear remains upon him, staining his skin a sickly ocher, and for this he’s known as Orange Julius.
learn some fuckin’ social studies and history and current affairs, people.
oh my god france has the biggest muslim population IN EUROPE
ive been studying french for 6 years and at the oral exam i have to do at the end of the year we have to talk about an intrinsically french issue
one of the recommended issues is “the difficulties in the life of a muslim girl in france”
thats how muslim France is
I got one am all aboard this train. Gimme gimme.
The “it’s French tho” is killing me, how are you saying that in this year of 2016 common era (really tho they mean BC this is xtian counting), 1431 years since Muhammad left Mecca, 5775 since the world was created (I GUESS) where are your parents what are they teaching u in school why do you hate the news
Random Toughts 