#— in character.

[mx-anthropy]

I saw a few people saying don't trust mech repair shops that are clean, and that you gotta go to the ones that are dirty and have crap everywhere 'cause they'll do a proper job and fix your rig cheaper and better.

While I agree in general, it's an even better sign if that shop has that *one* bay and workbench area that is conspicuously clean. Every good workshop has *that bay*.

That's the bay for when they need to go cleanroom on something. Pulling and refurbishing laser arrays, injection pumps, etc. Manually recalibrating gyros. Re-valving joint dampers. Fabbing up "custom" bracketry to fit that aftermarket heat exchanger that's *supposed* to be a direct bolt on OE style replacement and you just *know* it's not going to be that simple cause it never is, but the efficiency is so much better than the factory crap and who the hell wants to pay for a new genuine exchanger anyway, if you can even get one?

The number of absolute cowboy techs I've seen that think that just because they've done a bunch of work on their pa's agricultural mechs for years, they know everything there is to know about mech internals, strip down and reassemble a combat-rated set of hand actuators literally just on the god damned shop floor, only to wonder why all the hydraulics piss fluid out as soon as they run it through a test cycle. They might *look* the same as pappy's mech actuators, but they have way tighter tolerances and they run *way* thinner fluids in them. You get so much as a nick in the sealing surface of one of those rods and it's not gonna seal again. And before any goobers come for me saying "JuSt RuN tHiCkEr OiL" if you put anything thicker than 2W-5 in those things they'll just lock up. Won't leak but you'll not be using that hand for anything but karate chopping your opposition.

Anyway rant over, TLDR next time your stompy death machine needs actual proper work done, and not just entire unit assemblies throwm at the problem, take it somewhere that actually cares to understand the concept of machined tolerances.

[yoku-yukihime]

The "lunar" new year... is that really necessary.... do they really need that, those lunarians? is Our new year not good enough??? Someone should go up there and beat them up. but thats unrelated to my thoughts on the lunar new year i just think someone should beat them up.

[b0kksu]

     he gives you this look, wyd?

[thstrongest]

❛  you're  weak.  ❜

[thethirdlotusprince]

How's life as a runnaway?

-SWK 🍑

I don't know, you're the original.

How was it for you?

[islandiis]

[SMS - 3:32AM] have you ever seen in movies where the guy sprays something in his mouth before going on a date? Like an air freshener?

[SMS - 3:32AM] if you sprayed perfume in your mouth, would it taste bad even though it smells good? surely it would taste bad, right?

[raijintosworn]

🎄

"Lord Ryoma." Her warning comes too late. Another innocent soul falls to the fatal trap, set by none other than Lord Ryoma's own sister. Mitama can only grimace in quiet sympathy as she gestures towards the hanging mistletoe as explanation. "My apologies, I had hoped to manage to warn you sooner. By all means, please ignore me."

tis the season ; accepting

Ryoma only looks up when Mitama points up at the plant. Ah. Hook, line, and sinker right into a fresh sprig of mistletoe. Two more victims of the little plant.

Traditions or no, he does feel rather odd, kissing Azama’s daughter. At least in the way tradition calls for. She did say to ignore her, but that also felt rude. There has to be some sort of compromise. He pauses for a moment before realising.

“Ignoring you won’t do. If bad luck were to come to you…” Well, what? He can’t imagine Azama being the protective father who kicks Ryoma’s door down to yell at him. Regardless, he does have an idea.

Gently, he tips Mitama head forward, and places a tiny kiss at the crown of her head. He releases her immediately. “There. No harm done, hm?”

[lunarnoctiluca]

Setting Prompt 007 @stories-from-the-warp

SETTING PROMPT 007: the ruins of an ancient structure lost to time.

❝ Through me... Is the way to the city of woe. Through me... Is the way to sorrow eternal. Through me is the way to the lost below. Abandon... ❞

The Princess' hands are smeared in dirt, gravel stuck between each finger and in the folds of her red palm. It had taken the better part of five minutes to clear the cellar hatch well enough to read, and another five before that to pull the corpses off it. Her tongue moves in guttural clicks and pops, faithfully repeating the inscription in its original dialect: the extinct language of an extinct people, the first colonists of Bela Tegeuse.

It left a bitter taste. She corrects it with a candy. And another. And perhaps one more. Switching to her cleaner hand, she sulkily licks off the sugar as she continues reading.

Even now, when she could no longer remember what age they built this temple before she consigned them both to the fire, the disappointment of having her own creation used for the compliments of Slaanesh lingered —— now, it festered into anger. How could it not? Yet another crop of obscene idiots had sung princely praises in her words, had writhed in that creature's name, and yet again, it had been her chore to send them to their master.

So lost is she in her poetry, she does not notice @stories-from-the-warp is stood behind her until her eyes fall to the last sentence, a candelit shadow upon the floor overlapping her own crouched one. The shock is palpable; she blushes, refusing to turn her head out of sheer shyness, and stretches out her bag of candy.

❝ Ah! My apologies! If I had known I had an audience, I would have read it in Low Gothic... Please, help yourself to a treat... Ahh, how rude of me... ❞

[bledgrace]

🌡️Temperature!   iPhone needs to cool down before you can use it

“useless piece of shit.” dean mutters letting the damn thing fall to the dirty motel floor over the door of the mini fridge.  he’s bare-foot, sitting with his head resting against the cabinet,  long passed caring about the suspicious looking stains on the ratty carpet because it’s just too hot   ⸻  too hot to wear much of anything for that matter.  the only he’s left in are his boxer briefs and even they’re soaked with sweat.

risking a glance to @blednone who is faring just about the same as him:  fucking miserable.  of course the one place they decide to stop at has air conditioning that’s busted.  would’ve been a nice warning before they’d actually paid for the room. “hey,” dean clears his throat,  watching a bead of sweat roll down the back of his foot.

“I think they’re selling bags of ice next door at that gas station.”

[witchkillr]

IT TOOK YEARS OF STUDY TO GET HERE. agatha couldn't say how many - time is a strange, liquid thing, a concoction of mortals' to judge the lines of their existence by, a lens through which to sort the vastness of the multiverse into categories. as she has studied and learned and understood, she has come to the realisation that nothing is so simple. the flow of it slips through her charred fingers like water, and she lets it go.

distance is useful, even as she is in the throes of her plan to correct it.

here, incidentally, is the following place: a small suburban town, somewhere in the northeastern united states. a universe that is not her own, but is similar enough. a home that is also a prison. [ this is not something that has happened to her yet, or possibly ever will. she looks at herself, brought so low, made so small, and the dark thing sharing space in her chest roars. she is angry, too. she would be no matter the circumstance. ]

" what happened to you, my dear? " there is something of the roar in her inflection, a low, growling danger - blackened claws trace the line of her other self's jaw, already charting vengeance. that is to say: who do we need to kill?

plotted starter / @wcrpbubble.

[eloquentgod]

In the silent clearing stands a tall figure, facing the horizon beyond. Her faraway look obscured by tinted shades and a wide brimmed hat. Still human, remaining on the spire.

// ,,,hi i guess this is happening now. a King rp blog, from Great God Grove. Semi-serious maybe?? id just be saying things here. will tag spoilers as well, given that King herself is a spoilery character anyway

[b0kksu]

   He's pondering who would like to be Valentine's while also tempting with fancy sushi dates && maybe dessert after, a total romantic!

[thstrongest]

❛ SO... how much longer are you gonna be mad? ❜

[thethirdlotusprince]

It's happened twice now. I've been told that what I am currently and have experienced isn't... right.

I am currently 'grounded.' I'm not being made to work during this time, which is relaxing. I'm even being fed this time, three meals a day. I haven't been given a task to complete so I can be forgiven, though I do wish to write a letter to the person I lunged at.

Yet even though I've told them this, they are saying I've been... tortured. Which I can't understand.

[impinged]

These are not your stars. Never will be. Yet here you lay, out atop the grass in the middle of the night, eye gazing skyward... watching them. Wanting. Yearning.

You take on the arduous task of committing each and every single one to memory, for some reason. You'll hardly cherish them once you do.