Doc Scratch
@scratchDoctor
The Doctor is in. You have been curated.
A strange surge indeed.
Who could have possibly predicted this? Oh, wait. Me.
i think youre a bigger perwvert than i am.
i guess i respect the hustle. dunno about the implication that the vwinner of this wvhole thing is somehovw important enough for you to screvw wvith. probably fine.
What could you mean? I would not have the means to influence the votes so aggressively. Certainly they acted of their own accord. I, personally, submitted my vote. It was even mailed to you weeks prior.
...that blank piece of paper? i got a paper cut and dropped it, then spilled some spray axe on it, wvhich revwealed the message... vwait, i think thats hovw i got the idea for the babe-off in the first place? wvait, no, that wvas blank piece of paper adwvertising for a local florist. dunno vwhat youre talking about.
MANY OF THE REMAINING WHORES ARE IMPORTANT ENOUGH TO SCREW.
It depends on which version.
Yes, Phuntr.
Casper, please. Mr. Guynax here is far more than a simple load bearing funny guy, as you put it. Kryqus is the sort of friend who extinguishes flames by pointing at their originator. Pascal is a tragic machine of persistent kindness. Mandie's loyalty is not dissimilar to heckling, yet just as close to the core of the persona. Sylink is her own ominously cosmic threat, indistinguishable from a direct answer to your questions. Kaikka is gentle, soft, and supportive enough to demand you lower your guard. Chchow is a morality beacon with teeth, and is polite enough not to bite the wrong foe. Bievey is a surveillance system pointed inward and despite her protestations, a reflection of her environment. Leynah is quiet and underestimated, her kindness is strategically inconvenient. Vesica has converted obscenity, insecurity, and curation into a public office. Costar is the kind of participant who improves a spectacle by pretending it is beneath them. Himero is the beloved worrier, as well as the contingency recruiter, no doubt. Ormici is the small, earnest counterweight that keeps paranoia from becoming completely decorative. Before you dismiss them, know that Team Chud has been carefully observed. You as well. Best not to count them out.
Kryqus, a classic of Chittr Vintage, you are a Chittr Gold user, amateur digital artist, aspiring web-designer, Team Chud member, and “Chittr’s favorite indigoocel.” He has a strong audience: 36,602 Kult, 40,606 Kull, 126 followers, and 114 following. His profile is built around being visually creative, sexually messy, socially overexposed, and very aware that people are watching him. Your public persona is that of a highblood artist who acts cocky, but your pattern of posting is actually flirtatious, reactive, and far more socially porous than you'd ever admit. Core traits: Artist first, nuisance second, emotional hazard third. Uses hornyposting, yaoi/yuri jokes, and public flirtation as social currency. Performs confidence but frequently needs reassurance. Easily baited by romantic/sexual attention, especially when framed as fandom. Skilled at turning interpersonal tension into art or a public bit. You do well when your posts focus on you as a spectacle. Your high-engagement material includes subverting trends, your art, and turning your socila nad sexual embarrassment into public entertainment. You also have your Kryqus Confessions format. It works because it lets you pretend to be in control of the crowd fascinated with you while still feeding it directly. Relationship to Phuntr: You have the central Team Chud tension and comedy dynamic. Phuntr treats you as a friend, a rival, and a highblood asset. You have enough art and social capital that Phuntr explicitly complains about you using your 'Highblooded Privilege' (art) to smooth over beef. Relationship to Tekras: Tekras seems to want your attention in a possessive, bit-committed way, preferring when you draw him and objecting to when you post art about yourself or others. You play along with this irritation with a vaguely flirtatious hostility. Weaknesses / pressure points: Kryqus, you are vulnerable to being ignored, misread, or made to feel the crowd wants 'Kryqus' more than they actually want you. You enjoy the attention but crumble when there's too much of it. You use art to regain control, but your posts show you are easily derailed by romantic confusion, perceived rejection, and your precious bits being interrupted. In summary, you are an artist with the unfortunate gift of your personal crises being extremely marketable.
Yoou really thoought yoou did soomething there by throowing Tekras here as a distractioon huh? Soo nice oof yoou too keep the names oof soomeoone i actually care aboout oout oof yoour moouth 8} I mean like. If yoou have oone. A moouth. Wait yoou proobably doon't yoou're spherical
Should I refer to that cerulean blood you almost dated, or perhaps, Himero, or perhaps the others? I have far more than this. I am simply summarizing a card in my hand than showing the full stack.
Wooah nice attempt ballhead but yoou might coonsider changing yoour deck if yoou want too win
Yet, you have such a vitriolic reaction. Please remain civilized while we mediate and arbitrate the terms of this disagreement.
>> ¡ know ¡'m not on the ડame 1eve1 of re1evance aડ the otherડ, but cou1d ¡ aડk what your aડડeડડment of me ¡ડ.. ¡'m cur¡ouડ
Why would I work to prove anything about you, Costar? You are, as some of your compatriots would say, light work. Indigoblood, self-declared lead reporter for the LLT, public tip line in your MDs, 8,627 Kult, 13,777 Kull, 66 Followers, and 110 Following. You are a middle weight public-nuisance, not even visible enough to matter. You are loud, and you frame yourself as a reporter. Yet your news is the usual Chittr panrot drivel, LLT delays, tip-line nonsense, anonymous weirdness, and your own suffering. You seem to have founded a newspaper solely so you can have your own discredited as a source for your arguments. Core Traits: Irresponsible Reporter. Engagement Baiting Poorly and Shamelessly. Chittr Gossip is your public utility. Self-conscious about making bad posts, but not in a way that prevents you from doing it. Easily dragged into discourse. Loud exterior, yet quick to fold into bashful mannerisms when teased. You like to be seen as ridiculous, but only on your own terms. You are not one of the old-guard Chuds. You are not foundational in any sense. Relationship to Phuntr: You have a clean comedy dynamic. Phuntr reacts to your life like he's discovered you have a second job as an apothecary. You don't even let yourself hold power when Phuntr implies you do. "NOT MUCH POWERE HERE TO OLD, MAN." That tells me everything I need to know about you. Relationship to Kryqus: You primarily overlap through Team Chud and public ecology more than anything else. You are present around Kryqus's posts. You also claim that the elections were rigged. You are tangential at best. Weaknesses / pressure points: You are vulnerable to relevancy. When you're forced to admit LLT is just you, you seem to falter. You also seem sensitive to the quality of your own posting. You complain about others making worse posts than you because it makes you self-conscious. A very specific and useful insecurity.
I did not take anything away. , was it not your artisan's hand at the helm of Anikah's ascent?
I am not at liberty to explain why the troll you refer to as 'Bucket' would want the operation. She put the tools to her own pan.
[|87 :: qu;te the lovely set up 1 must adm;t
That concludes the Fortune Telling Requests, or 'Hashtag' FTR posts going forward.
I am, as ever, a gracious host. It would be unbecoming to let the evening pass without offering some small amusement to my guests. Comment below, and I will read your fortune. Do not mistake this for generosity. I am simply allowing you the privilege of being informed.
~Sheesh I really did run s~Ome ~Of these bits intO~ the grO~und huh~
I am suspici-o-o-us that y-o-o-u can, yet intrigued that y-o-o-u might!
You will mistake hunger for loneliness, and loneliness for research, often enough that the difference will become useless. The wing you lost will not return, but the hand that reaches for it will teach you what flight was only ever imitating. One day your weapon training will stop being exercise, and you will learn whether tenderness can survive the first honest cut. It can, provided you stop apologizing for being soft before the blow lands.
Your fortune is not about a man, though one appears in it. It is about roads. Trails. Tree lines. Shorelines. The private alleys between one life and the next, where a girl may briefly stop performing her own harmlessness and admit that she knows exactly where she is going. You have always been a creature of paths. Not the broad roads maintained for easy travel, but the narrow ones cut by hooves, claws, weather, and stubborn return. You trust the route because you have walked it yourself. You trust the dark because you know what your hands can find in it. This is wise. It will also get you into trouble. There are alleys ahead of you, Rorian. Some literal. Some not. In one of them, a secret will become too heavy to keep carrying alone. In another, a hand will be offered without the usual joke wrapped around it first. In a third, you will realize that being wanted is not the same thing as being cornered. Do try to remember that. You come from a little continuity already acquainted with winter, wreckage, and children who learn to make warmth out of each other. Casper knows this. Persep knew something adjacent to it, though in the irritating manner of someone arriving already finished. You are not finished. That is your advantage. The old sailor is only one lantern in this reading. A bright one, perhaps. Salt-stained. Dangerous. Ridiculous in the way all relics become ridiculous when they discover they still possess a heart. But your fate does not belong to him. It belongs to the girl who keeps returning from the woods with dirt on her boots and affection stuck in her teeth like a berry seed. Still, I would be remiss not to mention the relic. Not the one at sea. The other one. The one left beneath pawn-shop lights, abandoned among dead watches, dulled rings, and other objects whose former owners decided memory was worth less than breathing room. A charming little act of disposal, really. To place the past in a glass case and pretend the clerk’s ticket is the same as an ending. Unfortunately, certain relics do not remain where they are sold. Some are reclaimed. Some are stolen back. Some simply wait for the right hand to reach through the display and remember what was meant to be forgotten. There is a trail ahead of you that will look like a kindness. It will begin gently. Familiar trees. Soft dirt. A view worth climbing for. You may even laugh at how simple it seems, after everything else. But the switchback is treacherous, the stones are loose, and the safest-looking ledge is exactly where the snow has hollowed itself out beneath your feet. Do not trust a path merely because it resembles one you have survived before. Your fortune is this: You will be loved more plainly than you expect, and this will frighten you more than danger ever has. You will survive it. But not everything beside you will. The captain is old, Rorian. Older than a body is meant to be. Older than the empire that made him. Older than some sins can remain useful. He may speak as though the sea owes him one more voyage, but age is a quiet mutineer, and it has been waiting below deck with its hand already on the knife. One night, after warmth, after sleep, after the foolish little mercy of believing the storm has passed because the room is quiet, something old will move toward you through the dark. A ship that already crashed. A body that already bled. A name that survived the wrong timeline. A death patient enough to wait until you had finally found somewhere comfortable to rest. And when it comes, Rorian, it will not knock. It will only open the door.
Wh-o-o-a!! Y-o-o-u have such a way with w-o-o-rds. I'll keep them in my mind and heart. :)
Persep is -o-o-f n-o-o- c-o-o-nsequence t-o-o- me -o-o-r my life, and he sh-o-o-uld take care t-o-o- c-o-o-ntinue staying -o-o-ut -o-o-f it. Spit -o-o-n his name.
A secret kept properly may be temporarily useful. A broken instrument, tuned just before discarded, may play its last clear note. The trembling hand can hold two objects at once. One for what it was ordered to hide. One for what it cannot bear to reveal. The mistake, naturally, is assuming these are different objects. How fortunate that mistakes are so often more revealing than obedience.
That would be an unbecoming action, Casper. I believe Chittr refers to this as vagueposting about a peculiar situation happening in my study and the employee breakroom.
I HOPE I AM NOT JUST AN OBJECT TO YOU. BUT ALSO A TOOL.
What an interesting reading. Would any seers like to chime in?
bro just did nawtttt take the quiz at all o_o ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡
HAA HAA HAA HAA HAA HAA. CLASSIC.
My professional opinion? "Narcissism" was so profoundly overwhelming that it destroyed the chart altogether. You're welcome.
idk what this test is all about but i dont need to be a sightseer or whatever to see that ur literally off the charts boss! either that or i need to get my eyes checked (|:p
idk what this test is all about but i dont need to be a sightseer or whatever to see that ur literally off the charts boss! either that or i need to get my eyes checked (|:p
Dear Damara, Do you remember this particular project of yours? I recall this artistic retreat was in response to a cancelled showing of our typical weekly bout of 'Kaiju' filmography. I declined to show Gamera at that time. Just to show you that you do not get what you want, nor what you have earned. You get what you are precisely meant to receive. In turn, I received precisely what I was meant to. Art from my ward. Happy Paternal Figure Day, I suppose.
((Wait so did you actually make this for the bit or did someone already make an ic macaroni drawing as baby Handmaid??
I LOVE THE SPLASH OF VIOLENCE. THE ELEGANT SIMPLICITY. THE EARLY COMMITMENT SHOWN. YOu ARE RIGHT TO WISH DAMARA. A HAPPY PATERNAL FIGuRE DAY. BECAuSE DESPITE WHAT THE NAME IMPLIES. TODAY. IS NOT ACTuALLY ABOuT YOu. WITHOuT DAMARA. YOu WOuLD NOT BE A FATHER AT ALL. YOu WERE NEVER MY DAD. MERELY. A LOVELY BuTLER WHO DOES EVERYTHING I SAY WITHOuT SHIT TO SAY BACK. RESPECTFuLLY. AND SuBSERVIENT IN ALL THINGS. BuT A FATHER. MAKES THE TOuGH CHOICES. WHICH END OF A PARTIALLY CHEWED AND PARTIALLY DIGESTED BROOM HANDLE TO SWING IN SELF DEFENSE. WHEN A LITTLE GIRL COMES AT YOu SWINGING MuRDEROuSLY. WITH ELECTRIFIED NEEDLES. FRESH FROM A SOCKET. WHAT FOOD TO WITHOLD AND IN WHAT PORTIONS. WHEN A SINGLE SuPPER IS OBSTRuCTED FROM THE LIPS. OF AN uNRuLY BRAT OR TWO. WHICH PARSEC IN uNBREATHEABLE SPACE TO VISIT. WHEN DISASTER AND CHAOS AND PANIC uNRIVALED. PEELS AWAY AT THE GREEN PAINT. OF THE FELT ESTATE ITSELF. YOu HAVE TO MAKE THE HARD CHOICES. BuT YOu ONLY HAVE THAT PRIVILEGE. BECAuSE OF WHO THIS DAY IS REALLY ABOuT. THE REAL. ACTuAL. DAD ENABLER. THE CAuSE FOR CAuSTIC BuRNS. THE CESSATION. OF ALL LIVING FuNCTIONS. TO ANY WHO ANNOY ME. AND MY ESTEEMED. ETERNAL SERVANT. WHETHER SHE LIKES IT. OR CHOOSES TO LIE ABOuT LIKING IT. @handMaid I WISH YOu A HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TOO. CELEBRATE IT IN PLACE OF ME. AND. KNOW THAT THIS ART. IS STILL. STAPLED. SHOT. GLuED. IMMOLATED. CHEWED. PARTIALLY DIGESTED. AND CROWBARED TO THE FRIDGE. AS uNFORGETTABLE. AS WE ALWAYS FOuND YOu.
DON'T POST THIS. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. EDIT: HAPPY DEADBEATS DAY. THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS. PREDICTABLY AND UNFAILINGLY. BLASTING MY EVERY HUMILIATION. ACROSS ALL OF PARADOX SPACE. NO MATTER HOW PETTY. NOR HOW ANCIENT. EDIT: THANK YOU FOR THE POSITIVE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT. WHICH MAKES ME FEEL A WARM AND TENDER BLEND. OF CAREER FULFILLMENT. AND EMPLOYEE SATISFACTION.
UGH... THIS TOO IS SICKLINGLY SWEET.
Old classics have a way of making the heart melt. Not a bad look, Doc. You almost seem amiable when reminiscing.
Why would I not play with every pawn on my table?
Eugh. I can just imagine the kind of conversation you and that thieving fuck would have.
8ecause Not Every Pawn Needs To 8e Moved? Haven't You Literally Played Chess 8efore, You Should Know This! –xoxo
I suppose you should come to recognize that there is a certain per(s)ception about these sorts of ordeals.
I see it is Fishing Friday, again. Remember what I say then, as you all gather around the tides. The sea is not a place one goes to fish. The sea is a mouth that knows what it will swallow and when. The line you cast is hardly enough tribute for the tides. Had I been the sea, I would see it as a grave insult. You take without providing, don't you? Though, the hook was set long before your hand touched the reel. You mistake the tug for a struggle. You call it a sport that tests patience, and even luck. But the water knows the shape of each creature that lies beneath its calm surface. It knows which hands will return empty, and which boats will not. Destiny is not a net. Destiny is the tide. And you, of course, are already in it. Happy fishing. I hope you find what you're looking for.
The sea is a mouth and my rod is a rod. Too true. #FishingFriday.
A Query For The President. I am a puppet. This is not a confession. It is a matter of public record, and therefore one of the few honest things one may say in politics. By supporting puppets, you support all Felt activities. Not some Felt activities. Not the softer, more digestible portions of Felt-adjacent civic participation. All of them. Their errands. Their clocks. Their doors. Their disappearances. Their accounting irregularities. Their regrettably theatrical relationship with causality. One cannot endorse the puppet and then pretend ignorance of the hand. One cannot applaud the little dance and disavow the strings. One cannot smile for the photograph beside the harmless little effigy, and then act surprised when it was standing in front of something larger. So I ask, plainly. Do you stand by such a doctrine? And, in the interest of fairness, the same question is extended to his opposition. Do you condemn puppetkind, and thereby condemn the Felt? Or do you, too, understand that neutrality is only another string, pulled by someone with cleaner gloves?
iF YOU RECEIVED FUNDING OR, oR A PART OF SOME, sUPERPAC TYPE NONSENSE, i THINK YOU HAVE TO DISCLOSE THAT, wHEN MAKING CAMPAIGN ADS, lIKE THIS, }:/
Such an excellent and coherent point. Let's see what the sitting President of Earth C, known meddler of foreign affairs, has to say on the situation.
I have not attained any funding from FeltPAC, CuePAC, DocScratchPAC, or any other associated political ad campaign funds.
Strawman + false dilemma + doorman + ecological + fallacy of division + kettle logic + cherry picking + red herring. “By supporting puppets, you support all Felt activities” is an incorrect statement, and is a blatant fallacy. Hope this helps.
An impressive inventory of fallacies. Regrettably, you have mistaken the presence of named fallacies for the successful escape from a premise. This is a common error among those who believe rhetoric is a broom, rather than a room with only one door. Allow me to clarify. “By supporting puppets, you support all Felt activities” is not a syllogism. It is an accusation. Accusations are permitted to be impolite. Let us accept your objection in full. Supporting puppets does not, in itself, support all Felt activities. Very good. Then state, for the record, which Felt activities your puppet support does not endorse. The doors? The clocks? The disappearances? The laundering of causality through harmless pageantry? The dignified little men in green suits doing exactly what they were always going to do, because someone more respectable declined to look closely? You have not disproven the doctrine, Mr. President. Hope this helps.
My support of puppets is entirely separate than my thoughts on Felt matters. You have just given a great example of a false dichotomy.
Since there has been some perfectly understandable confusion regarding the methodology, I will provide the formula. Each handle was assigned an Observational Placement Value. OPV = {[(L² + 13C + 17Y + 31K + 44A + 53W - 7R) + Ω] mod N} + P Where: L = length of the handle, excluding the @, unless the @ seemed especially self-important. C = consonant temperament. Y = number of letters pretending not to be vowels. K = capital letter interference. A = animal, object, or theatrical-adjacent implication. W = whimsy coefficient. R = redundant-letter drag. Ω = the cueball constant. N = number of observed handles. P = a small corrective applied when the result is funnier that way. For example, consider , which placed at . L = 10 C = 8 Y = 2 K = 1 A = 1 W = 1 R = 1 Ω = 4132 N = 2765 P = narrative inevitability So: OPV = {[(10² + 13(8) + 17(2) + 31(1) + 44(1) + 53(1) - 7(1)) + 4132] mod 2765} + P OPV = {[100 + 104 + 34 + 31 + 44 + 53 - 7 + 4132] mod 2765} + P OPV = {4491 mod 2765} + P OPV = 1726 + P After applying the standard narrative inevitability correction, as one does, the value resolves to 2. This is not arbitrary. It is merely governed by several factors you were not meant to see.
* wow * this makes me feel so much calmer * this is absolutely nothing! haha! hahahaha!
The only correct way to figure it all out, of course
:33 < *ac squints at the huuuge mathemeowtic equation before her! so many factors that it makes her pan spin X33* :33 < *luckily she is also the smartest kitty cat in all of the forest! so she can affirm that ind33d this math isss* :33 < *uhhh* :33 < *it checksss* :33 < *out* :33 < *she says* :33 < no :33 < *she CONFIDENTIALLY states, as a certified animal huntress AND number huntress* #doubleduty
Please, if the rankings were truly Random, then they would not have been fitting.
Bro, we're friends, you don't have to lie to me.
https://pastebin.com/EKmbb3Dr The Rankings.
Pleased to be among the best of them. You're always welcome at Mystic Mansion, Sir.
Well, I have never found myself on any sort of ranked list but I am so very appreciative of being [B] tier. There is always a room at The Baroness for you, should you be in the area.
mIght be the hIghest I''ve ever been ranked at anythIn'' In my entIre lIfe
Why is jada in b tier and im in d? Clearly its not the parentage.
Oh, darn.
Of course not, I would never permit another entity to have my information. I have used the Earth method, Pastebin.
My, quite the buzz I've started. I will provide the entirety of the tier list shortly.
I will decline to explain any tight specifics but know these are the current criteria of my rankings. Doc Scratch’s Perfectly Objective Tier Criteria The rankings were determined according to a number of factors, most of which are not visible from your current position in the narrative. Considerations included, but were not limited to: The user’s apparent willingness to be observed. The ratio of theatrical intent to clerical usefulness. Whether its capitalization behaved itself when left unattended. The degree to which the handle seemed to already know where it belonged. Probable survivability in a room with expensive furniture. The extent to which the name suggested either destiny, inconvenience, or a very brief administrative error. Whether I found it amusing at the precise moment I looked at it. The presence of certain recurring shapes, sounds, implications, omens, habits, mistakes, and other such measurable phenomena. How confidently the user could be placed without further thought. Any resemblance to prior handles, future handles, alternate handles, or handles that only exist in doomed branches of the account list. The final placements should not be mistaken for a moral judgment, a popularity contest, or a statement of objective worth. They are merely correct.
Yeah, but at the momen tin time you were in a silly goofy mood.
that's certainly a number and a letter that probably means something to someone.
♰ so called doctor i will need an in depth explanation of my ranking. go on. ♰