WittyProfileName2 [she/her]

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Joined 3 years ago
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Cake day: March 15th, 2021

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  • spoilers for Dark Souls 2

    Meeting King Vendrick at the end of the catacombs.

    Since you first reached the hub town (Majula), you’ve been told that Vendrick has the means to cure the undead curse and all you need to do is find him. And so the entire game up 'till this point has been about reaching his castle and then when you discover he isn’t there, tracking him down to the very bottom of the catacombs.

    At the end of a long corridor full of enemies, past a recurring boss fight against one of Drangliec’s many dragon riders, you pass through the fog wall and face Vendrick’s bodyguard, Velstadt. It’s an okay fight, not particularly flashy or difficult but at least it’s not Prowling Magus.

    Velstadt falls, and the only way forward is a short, narrow corridor that opened up behind him. The corridor leads down into an unlit room and in the dark you can faintly make out some large shape moving about the farthest side of the room to you.

    As you get closer you hear Majula’s familiar theme begin to play as the creature in the room takes shape before your eyes.

    It’s Vendrick, succumbed to the undead curse.

    So hollowed by now that he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence, instead slowly walking the same circle in a loop. His withered arms barely able to raise the sword he once used to slay the king of the giants.

    “What am I supposed to do now?”

    As I sat there trying to figure out what my next steps were supposed to be, I couldn’t help but contemplate Vendrick’s fate.

    Time and time again this game presents you with the inescapable nature of death. Of how no matter how good a life you lived it will come to an end. No matter what legacy you try to secure it will crumble and be forgotten. The iron king in all his tyranny is naught but ichorous earth now, even Vendrick is dead (though his body hasn’t caught up on that yet).

    “If life is short, and my deeds are inevitably forgotten,” I thought to myself, “Why the fuck am I living as a man when doing so makes me miserable?”

    Long story short, the next day I finally worked up the courage to talk to my GP about a gender service referral.














  • Bunch of failed suicides, an accident in a school swimming pool, and the time my neighbour accidentally diverted a fuck tonne of carbon monoxide fumes into my house. All the times I’ve been close to death don’t make for particularly interesting reading.

    How about a brush with serious injury instead?

    1st year of uni. I’m in the labs for the first time and I am hyped to do some microbiological analysis. We were given a bunch of techniques to try and I’d decided to start by doing gram staining and then observing a slide. Most of my class mates had less experience on the microscopes than me and I was feeling great about how quickly I’d calibrated everything. Cocky enough that I hadn’t noticed just how coated in immersion oil my gloves were, until my hand accidentally passed through a Bunsen burner and went up in flames.

    Thankfully I’d picked a bench close to the sinks and was able to wrap some damp towels around the hand quickly to try to smother the flame before I got seriously burnt. But the scars on my hand are a reminder to me to be aware of my surroundings in the lab at all times.