Meet Pickles, aka “Catosaurus.” He was rescued in Boston and he’s over 3 feet long.
I want to adopt him immediately
Eren Jaeger: TRA
SASHA DID YOU KNOW WE HAVE WEAK SPOTS ON THE BACKS OF OUR NECKS THAT MAKE US VULNERABLE TO AN UNJUST SYSTEM?
|—||grant ward probably (via jemhenstridge)|
Spotted this headline today. S.H E.I.L.D really messed up on the whole secret part of secret agents.
I had a great conversation with a (male) co-worker today (I work in videogames, fyi) where we were like “Man, we used to dig FPS games, but now they’re literally all the same. Maybe they were ALWAYS all the same, but now it’s really starting to show.”
He said, “if I never play an FPS again I will be a happy man”
and I joked “The only way I will ever play an FPS again is if I am in fact a magical girl sparkleprincess who turns squarejawed dudebrows into sparkleponies.”
And then halfway to the car I went… wait.
Since I don’t have the skills to make this and even if I could my current contract with my company means I can’t make it on my own I’m just gonna babble about it on the internets.
What if you had a game where the underlying structure was literally just a normal FPS—a classic FPS, mind you, more Doom, Goldeneye, Perfect Dark, Wolfenstein, or Quake than Modern Warfare or anything—but instead of being Sir Whitebread Squarejawed McManpain mowing down people you are a classic Sailor Moon type magical girl. All the weapons are basically of the same types as a classic FPS in terms of what they do (pistol, shotgun, rifle, etc) except they are classic magical girl weapons in the forms of wands, scepters, staves, mirrors, hair pins, whatever.
You start out in the middle of your typical Grimdark Real Is Brown Military Shooter, with two different sides of squarejawed manpain guys fighting each other, but instead of killing them, when you hit them with your attacks they turn into happy joy funtime sparklepeople of some sort. They end up in flamboyant lovely clothes and everything around them becomes supersaturated with color and they are immune to bullets. You are not, but you cannot die either because idk bullets don’t really hurt you they just desynch you and send you back to Magical Girl Land. People’s guns explode into rainbows and butterflies. Tanks turn into giant flying neon Lisa Frank whales. Grenades explode into flowers.
You are here to bring peace and end war! In the name of the Sun and Stars, you will bring joy and love!
You could actually pick from a number of protags with different abilities. I genuinely want a huge, fat, not even curvy but outright fat magical girl in a gorgeous fluffy pink dress who floats lightly through the air and is good at grenades, only they are bubble bath bombs. I want an Utena style magical girl in a waistcoat and spats. I want a trans magical girl where literally her gender is backstory and she’s just normal like the rest. I want magical girls who aren’t white or Japanese, I want black magical girls and brown magical girls and all kinds of magical girls. There’s one Tuxedo Mask character and he’s the literal worst at anything so playing him well and actually beating the game with him is basically BRUTAL MODE.
There’d be 4 player co-op mode where you’re still just going through this brown war zone healing the land and bringing PEACE AND LOVE.
Deathmatch / capture the flag / other sorts of versus mode takes place in training sessions in Magical Girl Land where you train by seeing how many of your fellow magical girls you can temporarily turn into adorable kittens, puppies, and bunnies. Respawning is just the spell wearing off.
There would be no ironic magical girl stuff here. This isn’t Madoka, this would be Sailor Moon levels of NOPE PEACE AND LOVE SAVES THE UNIVERSE stuff. Unironic beautiful goodness. Endgame is that you have established your rainbow sparkle empire.
I do not think you know how badly I want this.
*e* LET ME BE ABSOLUTELY CLEAR. This is not a ~shooter for women~ because frankly I’ve been playing shooters since I was a kid. This is not ~pink aisle~. This is subverting the classic shooter formula of “get gun mow down dudes” with “Get sparkle staff make everyone happy.” This is a shooter FOR EVERYONE that is ABOUT SPARKLE PRINCESSES
Furthermore, I’d want to avoid any weird fetishy sexualization. Some of the magical girls should be sexy, yeah! But others should not. They should all be women, first and foremost. No panty shots or any of that gross shit, just cute as hell girls spreading sparkle love.
You had me at magical girl FPS and then it just kept getting better. Please accept these very fast sketches as my promise that I am going to draw more of this and also start talking to some people about how to make this happen.
OH MAN YES YOU ARE HIRED
LOOK AT THESE LADIES
I love especially the idea of a magical girl in a hijab destroying the military industrial complex with sparkly love and friendship.
Man I also kind of want the fencer to be a sniper with her sword acting like the Mesmer swords in Guild Wars 2, eg a giant butterfly powered laser.
Everything about this is perfect.
It also vaguely reminds me of this old Penny Arcade comic:
“Malfoy bought the whole team brand-new Nimbus Cleansweeps!” Ron said, like a poor person. “That’s not fair!”
“Everything that is possible is fair,” Harry reminded him gently. “If he is able to purchase better equipment, that is his right as an individual. How is Draco’s superior purchasing ability qualitatively different from my superior Snitch-catching ability?”
“I guess it isn’t,” Ron said crossly.
Harry laughed, cool and remote, like if a mountain were to laugh. “Someday you’ll understand, Ron.”
Harry and Ron stood before the Mirror of Erised. “My God,” Ron said. “Harry, it’s your dead parents.”
Harry’s eyes flicked momentarily over to the mirror. “So it is. This information is neither useful nor productive. Let us leave at once, to assist Hagrid in his noble enterprise of raising as many dragon eggs as he sees fit, in spite of our country’s unjust dragon-trading restrictions.”
“But it’s your parents, Harry,” Ron said. Ron never really got it.
Harry sighed. “The fundamental standard for all relationships is the trader principle, Ron.”
“I don’t understand,” Ron said.
“Of course you don’t,” said Harry affectionately. “This principle holds that we should interact with people on the basis of the values we can trade with them – values of all sorts, including common interests in art, sports or music, similar philosophical outlooks, political beliefs, sense of life, and more. Dead people have no value according to the trader principle.”
“But they gave birth to y–”
“I made myself, Ron,” Harry said firmly.