#FIRING SO MANY OF THEM AND RUNNING ON A SKELETON CREW

[troglobite]

aldkjfalsd

paying more than mortgage costs for an airbnb house that

was not even remotely cleaned upon arrival (MULTIPLE sticky handprints on every surface in the kitchen, dirt IN THE REFRIGERATOR, muddy footprints, carpets & rugs so filthy that we HAVE to wear our slippers & give up on mopping the floors because they get dirty IMMEDIATELY, hair [human and pet, head and pube] on all the sheets and in every corner that has never seen a broom or vacuum, unidentifiable liquids and stains on every door [bedroom and bathroom] and the sheets & comforters)

was clearly not built to code bc it's worse than a 40s house but was built in the 70s (the stairs are definitely not to code and walking through the house quickly is like walking on the deck of a boat out at sea)

was advertised w central air but that was a lie and it only has tiny wall heaters in most rooms and 1 space air conditioner in 1 room

has a window that is so poorly fitted that the worlds largest creatures can come through it and give me a panic attack and nightmares for a week or more, and we had to physically tape it up ourselves

has a fridge that needs a water filter

has multiple smoke & CO alarms that are malfunctioning and/or need batteries

advertised lots of closet space but upon hanging 7 shirts on the ramshackle, not to code, pathetically cobbled together "hanger" in the only closet that won't leave the clothes dragging on the floor, collapsed completely and was unusable (unsurprisingly given the WOOD ITSELF WAS WARPED FROM THE WEIGHT OF *PILLOWS*)

has an UNBEARABLE mold and mildew stench IN THE MAIN BEDROOM ON THE FIRST FLOOR and what looks like a MOLD STAIN ON THE CEILING which is BENEATH THE UPSTAIRS SHOWER

has no batteries, lightbulbs, screwdrivers, garbage bags, or anything else remotely useful in the house for us to use (the vacuum is old as fuck, dusty, busted, and has hair EVERYWHERE, and the broom is literally duct taped together)

the upstairs bathroom toilet is like an escape room or physical/gymnastics challenge to get in and out of

one of the single-room wall heaters is literally BROKEN--turning it all the way down means it cranks and stays on forever, turning it all the way up temporarily turns it off, and it only stays off consistently if set at some middle temperature, but even then it'll still turn on unbidden--and there is no on/off switch

the furniture is nigh unsittable bc it is so cobbled together and uncomfortable

the chairs are basically unusable from how small and uncomfortable they are

the mattress are MISERABLE bc they have the world's FIRMEST MEMORY FOAM on ALL of them

THERE ARE NO CURTAINS ON ANY OF THE FUCKING WINDOWS AND ONLY THREE OF THE WINDOWS HAVE BLINDS. ONLY THREE!!!! THERE ARE ELEVEN OTHER WINDOWS IN THE HOUSE!!!!!!

everything outside is overgrown and in need of maintenance and care and is therefore unusable (there are just random dogtoys in places--inside AND outside)

there's just a used candle. sitting behind the tv.

the tv is TRASH and the volume is the WORST i've ever heard. we've trying fixing it REPEATEDLY. it ALSO is impossible to consistently get HDMI to connect to it/my laptop. i have to unplug and replug it multiple times.

the laundry room REEKS OF MOLD/MILDEW. it's also more of a closet. we have to have the fan on 24/7.

you cannot open the blinds on the 3 windows that have them. they removed the pulleys that allowed you to do that because "it was a pain/difficult to lower them back down" so they just REMOVED THAT OPTION.

the "guide book" for the home is CLEARLY outdated because it HAS THE WRONG INFORMATION FOR HOW TO GET IN THE HOUSE AND UNLOCK/LOCK THE FUCKING DOOR.

and we've only been here since last weds.

i'm wearing an n95 mask sitting in this bedroom because with my HEPA filter going, the room's wall heater turned off (bc that shit looks rank), and febreze odor eliminator sprayed REPEATEDLY in here after dousing the room in lysol upon arrival, the smell of mold is hurting my fucking lungs.

i literally want to strangle the ppl who think this home is in ANY WAY remotely fucking livable--and also, REMOTELY WORTH THE HELLISH AMOUNT OF MONEY WE HAD TO SPEND ON IT.

[notquiteascrazy]

Maybe this is it?

(Read on AO3)

It starts with standing just a little bit closer on calls. Their arms bump as they walk. Then the touches start to linger. A hand on an arm for a moment longer than necessary. A brush of fingers that becomes a bit more than that. Soon it’s their knees pressing against each other on a definitely big enough couch as they drink beer and watch a movie. All of it is a perfectly natural escalation of their friendship. They’re just that close. They’re partners.

The first time Buck brushes Eddie’s hair back it’s because his hands are busy coiling the hoses after a particularly gruelling job. He can hear the little huffs of breath as Eddie tries to blow the strands tickling at his eyes out of the way but it’s clearly futile. They’ve talked a lot about how they’re both long overdue haircuts but B shift is running a skeleton crew right now after an incident at a five-alarm fire and so everyone’s been pulling double shifts for weeks. There’s just no time.

So Buck does the only natural thing a friend would do in those circumstances and reaches out to brush Eddie’s hair back, out of his face. The contented sigh that Eddie releases creates a burst of warmth in Buck that sits with him all day. After that, it becomes natural to reach out and tuck the longer locks back for Eddie and see that warm smile that fills him with joy.

Even after they finally get their hair cuts, the gentle touches remain. Buck realises that after tough calls – particularly those involving kids – Eddie likes his hair being stroked. It soothes him. All it takes is a couple of seconds before the tension practically bleeds out of Eddie. His shoulders melt from hunched-up knots to gentle slopes as Buck rakes his fingers through his best friend’s hair.

No one ever questions it or really comments. The 118 is good like that. They’re progressive. They understand that male friendship doesn’t have to be toxic bullshit, it can be gentle and affirming. Buck feels his own personal growth deep in his soul. He knows how far he’s come from his 1.0 days and if he wasn’t proud enough of himself, the looks he sometimes catches Bobby giving, when he thinks Buck can’t see, would reassure him that he’s found his place in this world.

The memories of the lightning strike eventually fade. Doctor Copeland helps a lot. Buck works through the trauma and the confusion of the alternate reality he experienced while in his coma. And over time, those memories fade. He still occasionally wakes up in a cold sweat and has to text Bobby just to reassure himself that his Captain is still there, and is still alive. But those occasions become more and more infrequent.

What he’s not been able to shake is the empty memory of knowing Eddie didn’t exist in that universe. Sure, Buck barely existed – not in the life they’ve built together, at least – but Eddie? Pure and good Eddie. A man who tried his damned hardest, who loved unconditionally? He was nowhere to be seen. There’d been Hen and Chim, Maddie (ignoring the horrifying presence of Doug)... So many people Buck loved. But no Eddie.

Buck has come close to facing that reality on more occasions than he cares to count. Their jobs are dangerous and he knows every day there is a chance that one of them might not make it back from some of the worst calls. But that’s a hypothetical here. In this reality, Eddie will always make it back because Buck will always have his back. Buck will always put Eddie’s life before his own. No matter what Eddie says to the contrary. No amount of ‘Because, Evan’s will change that.

And so maybe they get even closer. Sitting in each other’s personal space is no longer enough, no matter how much of Eddie’s warmth Buck can feel as they press side by side. Instead, movie nights become Buck curled into Eddie’s side. His head against Eddie’s chest and the reassuring thump of Eddie’s heart beating in his ear. This way he knows Eddie is real. This way he knows he’s alive.

He thinks Eddie feels it too. The way Eddie’s hand curls protectively against his neck. His fingers pressed just delicately against Buck’s pulse point. It would not be noticeable if it was anyone but Buck. But Buck knows Eddie intrinsically. He’s familiar with every plane of his body. With every micro-expression. With every press of his fingers. He knows that gentle touch against his carotid is Eddie’s way of reassuring himself that Buck came back to him.

It’s that feeling of being so overly protected that makes Buck twist his head slightly and press his lips over Eddie’s heart where it beats steadily under his ribcage. A silent thanks and an almost prayer that it never-ever stops beating. That it’s reassuring thump continues to keep rhythm. To keep Eddie. Eddie’s hand at his neck presses firmer, just for a moment. It’s imperceptible really but Buck senses it – he knows Eddie understands. They don’t ever talk about ‘it’... About the trauma. They both process in their own ways. But they both move ever closer.

Buck’s shaking. His entire body is coiled tight with anxiety and every muscle spasming involuntarily. He hates calls going wrong. But particularly the ones where he’s right there. Where he could have done something. Ran a little bit quicker. Reached a little bit further. Been standing slightly to the left. Anything. Anything that would have saved that mom’s life. As it was, her two kids were going to grow up never knowing her. And it was Buck’s fault. He knew it was. If he’d just been enough. If he’d just been better.

He goes home on autopilot. He stands under the shower until the scalding water turns icy; until his flesh feels like it might peel away from his bones. It’s not enough. It can’t wash away the feeling of smoke cloying at his skin. Or the knowledge that he just wasn’t good enough. That he hadn’t tried hard enough.

He makes himself a sandwich because he knows he should eat, even if the food tastes like ash in his mouth. He knows he needs his strength if he’s to try again tomorrow. To seek atonement, or redemption or whatever. To make it right and resettle the balance by saving the next person. By being enough next time. 

There’s a scrape of a key in the lock but Buck doesn’t look up. He can’t lift his head or turn to the door. It doesn’t matter. Only one person has a key anyway. And he’ll understand. There won’t be any expectations from his partner. Because Eddie will know how empty and cold Buck feels. He was there to see every moment of Buck’s failure. To watch as the woman, as Carol, slipped right through Buck’s grasp. And Eddie won’t judge him. He won’t love him any less. But he’ll understand that Buck wasn’t enough for Carol. But he’s there to tell Buck that he is still worthy.

A warm hand presses against his neck, fingers fluttering over his pulse point and thumb rubbing gently at the ridges of Buck’s vertebra. Buck knows he doesn’t deserve to be cared for like this, not when he’s let so many people down, but he feels himself relax into the touch. He feels his blood pump that little bit stronger through his veins. His extremities warming by just a few degrees but enough to make him feel a little bit less like a ghost.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t move closer but he doesn’t move away. He just stands with his hand a grounding weight against Buck’s neck until Buck is ready to lean back into the touch to press his back against Eddie’s torso and to feel the support of his partner holding him up.

And if Eddie presses a soft kiss to Buck’s hairline? And if Buck’s heart leaps into his throat at the press of lips to his still too-cold skin? And if he feels the blood rush to his face, chasing the high of Eddie’s lips? What of it? It’s just another evolution in their ever-shifting friendship. Another redefining of their boundaries.

Buck’s stopped dating. So has Eddie. Neither of them really have the time. Between work, and Christopher, and each other. They never really talk about it. It’s barely a conscious choice. They just choose to be content with each other. With that being enough. And on days when Buck feels so touch starved he’s not even sure if he’s actually a real, living human, there’s always Eddie there to hold him until he comes back to his body again with whispered reassurances and the delicate press of fingers to pulse points and lips to cheeks.

No one else will ever get it, is the problem. No one understands the need to do good in the world, the drive to help people and the adrenaline that comes with putting your life on the line for another human being. And the feeling of abject devastation when it all goes wrong. No one except another first responder. So Buck learns to rely solely on Eddie, and Eddie on Buck.

The rest of the 118 have families to go home to. Chim has Jee and Maddie to remind him of all the good in the world. Hen has Karen and an ever-growing brood of found family that they’re growing together. Bobby has Athena. And Buck? Buck has Christopher and Eddie. They’re an almost inseparable trio at this point. Buck can’t remember the last meal he ate alone. The last evening that wasn’t punctuated by some form of ‘But, Daaaaad’ pleas – be it about homework or bedtime… And so his life feels complete in a way no relationship has ever made him feel. Even on the bleakest days, he knows he’ll find at least a small sliver of sunshine. Be it in Eddie’s touch or Christopher’s wide grins.

Maybe this is it? Maybe this is all he needs. His partner and his partner’s kid fill that hole in his heart and make everything feel real again. That bone-deep sense of contentment and peace that he finds nowhere else. That ability to finally switch his brain off and slow down. This is what he’s been unknowingly searching for his whole life. This is what it’s supposed to feel like. To feel unconditionally loved, and needed, and wanted, and protected, and necessary. To feel like there’s always somewhere there, no matter what. The highs. The lows. The everythings in between.

This is it, right?!

[tommyssupercoolblog]

Learning that Tumblr is run by a team of like 70 people was like. Okay on one hand people being automatically taken down via mass reports makes sense now. Of course you're going to automate it. But on the other that means that when people dispute it and get a response back refusing to fix it... that's probably like ONE guy??? Or like a few people??? So if you find that like small handful of staff you can easily make it so people can get their accounts BACK. And yeah that's a skeleton crew but we saw in the StrangeÆons interview that a lot of staff were laid off who LOVED Tumblr and were Tumblr users themselves. So like...invite some of them back or something? Also I know it's unhelpful at this stage but maybe they wouldn't be here if they fired staff members who WEREN'T heavily invested in the site instead of firing everybody at random and losing people who did/would care

Also this makes me think that the drama must be...ROUGH. the LGBT staff at Tumblr must be constantly arguing with everyone else if everyone knows each other's names and is in a small ass group, and they're also trying not to get fired?

Really this gives me more sympathy for the staff who aren't transphobic but way, WAY less for automatic. I still want to support this website, I would literally do their monthly subscription if I had the cash, because I love this community and want to keep it running and we can't last at a deficit forever. But like....dude it would be SO easy to sack and replace the like 5 people who are shitty. You don't even have to go through a thousand guys and weed them out YOU PROBABLY EVEN ALREADY KNOW WHO IT IS because there's about as many staff members as there are kids in a classroom

Edit because it just occurred to me: staff should have volunteers. Less authority than paid staff but if it's legally possible they should HAVE VOLUNTEERS AND REPRESENTATIVES WHO ARE USERS!!!!! oh my god this could fix literally everything. And the excuse about firing being hard wouldn't apply anymore because you have extra hands

[sesshy380]

Vent/Rant below the cut (bc I really need to just scream somewhere atm)

You know those people that do shit that you know for a fact that if you were the one to do it you would be so fucked? And somehow those people just DON'T. GET. FUCKED. I have one of those at my work. Literally got caught STEALING by fucking corporate, and somehow this person is STILL THERE. That's just ONE of many things this person has done, and you'd think with all the evidence stacked against this person for everything, that this person would be fired already.

NO. THIS PERSON STILL HAS THIER FUCKING JOB.

My guess is because this person somehow pretended their way into a salaried position, and despite the one person above them wanting them gone, corporate is hesititent to just fire this person.

I just...want this person to quite. We all do. None of us can stand this person. We'd rather run an even worse off skeleton crew than deal with this person.

*screams into the void at the injustice of it all*

[hxdonist]

.::. I AM THAT I AM .::. ikarus ito

Citizen Profile Loading. . .

profile loaded. ERROR CODE 1F1N1T3FUN: Some Data Expunged.

.::. A SICKNESS UNDEFINED .::. basics.

NAME: IKARUS CAELUM ITO ALIASES: IK, IKKA, THE FOX OF EIGHT EYES, 1NF1N1T3FUN AGE: THIRTY-FIVE YEARS OLD. [JANUARY 17TH] GENDER/PRONOUNS: CIS MAN HE/HIM SEXUALITY: PANSEXUAL // DEMIROMANTIC HUMAN // HOST: HUMAN OCCUPATION: DATA EXPUNGED - - - as far as you need to know, I am a friend. A netrunner and a braintrip cutter of the...shady variety. AFFILIATIONS: NANO ZILLA. And any gang, corp, or solo with the balls to think they can run with me.

.::. IT'S MY KINGDOM COME .::. going deeper.

PERSONALITY: CHARMING TO A FAULT, IKARUS DESIRES ONLY TO CORRECT WHAT HE PERCIEVES AS 'SOCIETAL WRONGS.' WHILE HIS BANNER SEEMS AT FIRST SOMETHING WORTH WORKING BENEATH HIS METHODS ARE MANIPULATIVE MUCH LIKE THE MAN HIMSELF. A HEDON WITHOUT CARE FOR THE 'WAY THINGS HAVE ALWAYS BEEN' HE IS A GLUTTON FOR ATTENTION, POWER, SEX, DRUGS- ANYTHING THAT MAY FIRE THE SYNAPSE REQUIRED FOR PLEASURE- AND RIPS THROUGH THE THINGS THAT PLEASE OR ANGER HIM LIKE A MALICIOUS VIRUS WITHOUT DIFFERENTIATING WHICH IS WHICH. SELF-ASSURED TO THE POINT OF BEING COCKY TO THE EYES OF SOME, IKARUS' SKILLS ARE RARELY CALLED INTO QUESTION, AND HE PREFERS IT THAT WAY, HE WILL ONLY STAND FOR THE BEST IN HIS RANKS, SOURCING NEW MEMBERS THROUGH REGULAR 'TESTS' DEPLOYED ON THE NET BY 'THE FOX OF EIGHT EYES' AND REJECTING ANY WHO FALL SHORT OF STANDARD. DESPITE THIS, HE IS LOYAL TO THOSE WHO EARN IT, A DOGGED, STRONG-WILLED FRIEND TO HAVE IN ONE'S CORNER, DESPITE BEING A RATHER SLIPPERY ASSOCIATE IN ANYTHING TO DO WITH POWER.

AESTHETIC: WIRES COILING AND BLACK, BOUND LIKE CHAINS TO THE NET; ALIVE IN CODE || A FOX WITH TOO MANY EYES AND BROKEN, SPIDERING LIMBS. IT BECKONS TO YOU IN THE DARKNESS. || STATIC SOAKED SCREENS FROM YEARS PAST WATCHING WITH INTENT; THE GHOSTS OF WHAT WE WERE. || A REFINED BLACK SUIT SLICKED WITH BLOOD- UNBOTHERED YOU LIGHT UP A CIGARETTE- JUST ANOTHER NIGHT IN THE CITY.

KNOWN CYBERWARE: NEURAL UPLINK PORT STANDARD IN NETRUNNERS. HEADWARE RIG USED FOR ON-THE-FLY HACKING. SINGULAR PROSTHETIC ARM, MATTE BLACK CARBON AND RED LIGHTING ARRAY. IMPLANTED WEAPONRY LIKELY CONTAINI- DATA CORRUPTED. ERROR CODE: 2NOSY;)

HISTORY: CORRUPTED DATA RESTORED. BACKUP DRIVE CREATED. File Attached: FoxOfEightEyes.txt [TRIGGER WARNINGS: CHILD ABUSE, ANIMAL DEATH] [Mobile version of bio available in a google doc HERE] [hint: use the forcecode to skip the puzzle.]

.::. FROTHING AT THE MAW .::. connections.

CAT TO MOUSE; FOX IN YOUR HENHOUSE: The eponymous 'predator and prey' relationship- but who's who when the chips fall? Be you a Corpo burned by Nano Zilla, a gang member too foolish to determine you were being swindled before it happened, or even a Cowboy with your eyes on a pricy take- 1NF1N1T3FUN welcomes your attempts on his life- and recommends you come prepared.

FOLLOW THE WHITE RABBIT: An understudy/mentor relationship- a recently welcomed netrunner into the embrace of Nano Zilla and their base made in Dreamland, you followed the Fox of Eight Eyes and found its den to rest in the retrofitted depths of a once-bustling theme park; the skeleton of whimsy and fun now inhabited by the kind of people who treat the net as their playground. Ikarus only welcomes the best into his family, those willing to shirk the existing rules and demands of corporations and the government to seek building something greater- through technological subterfuge- he'll take you under wax wings, teach you to wind among the wires with the best of them- just make sure you know exactly what that means, when the time comes.

BITTERLOVER.EXE: The ever-present exes connection. Ikarus is a different man, in love. Dedicated to ideals and the ever-elusive 'better' his goals seem lofty- but oh, he always seemed to have time for you, and a carbon-steel fist that drives his crew so firmly was always soft in the quiet of a tiny apartment- but that was then. It's hard to recognize him now- you can't imagine you want to, because when push came to shove- Ikarus chose power over you. This is a connection for an ex who dated Ikarus recently, while he's headed and operated with Nano Zilla as an active anarchist/insurrectionist.

ISANYONEUP.MP4: You need help sourcing an illegal or otherwise damaging to your reputation braintrip and with some digging- you've found the editor who spun it. Sure, he wasn't the gunman that left your loved one dead in the dirt- wasn't the bastard who filmed the two of you having sex and sold it off after- but he knows who was, picking around in the BT with his editing software- he's said he'll help you, for a price- are you brave enough to take that offer?

ADDITIONAL CONNECTIONS

Childhood friends

Exes (younger than 19 years old/schoolkid ages)

Former coworkers (Ex Gestalt Bureau Corpo, abandoned his position at 23.)

Fellow Nano Zilla netrunners who work for/under him

corpos/ceos/high ranking officials he's got existing dirt on

Braintrip recorders/sellers who use his services as an editor

regular hookups

literally anything I'll take it all babyyyyyy

[open-hangar]

Space Defense Lanzer Ep. 1

SIYANQOBA VOLUNTEER AND OFFICER RECORDS

Ngodumo Lwe Siyanqoba

Name: Nomfundo Dimba

Place of Origin: Kwazulu Outskirts, southernmost coast of Africa

Birth Date: ~081 ADA

Height and Weight: ~165 cm, ~95 kg

Rank and Duties: Kaptein of Siyanqoba Air and Space Force in charge of experimental personnel.

Etc.: Highest authority granted regarding Lanzer and pilot access, Lord Zama allows her to go as she pleases unless indicated otherwise. [Note: yes, this includes the cat, too]

Kwazulu Launch Base Zone was one of the few LBZ’s that was designed to be used without a skeleton crew, controlled entirely through automated processes with no human overseers. To keep the system running smoothly and without interference, the entire complex was surrounded by thick walls with no way in or out besides over or through.

Which was precisely the reason a small fleet of repurposed semi trucks was speeding through the encampment surrounding Kwazulu at a blinding speed.

Young Nomfundo sat at the driver’s seat of the lead truck, her foot pressed onto the gas with the weight of a mountain and her eyes focused on the thick concrete wall in front of her like a hawk closing in on a shrew. She had been chosen by the patriarch of the Siyanqoba, Lord Zama for this specific task and she refused to let him down, so the heavily spiked front of her truck will go through that wall like a rod from a railgun, through hell or high water.

“Closing in on our destination in 3 minutes. Prepare the Lanzers,” a deep voice echoes in her ear. With that, the 5 semis’ cloaked cargo stood at attention, the 15-meter tall bipedal vehicles that spelled victory for the Siyanqoba.

“Aim cannons at the designated points. Be ready to fire on my command. 5, 4, 3, mark. Fire!” From their reclaimed steel huts, the people living in the shadow of the LBZ watched as the Lanzers’ missile cannons aimed at the wall and fired in unison. Many cheered, others hid in fear and worry. None of them could do anything else as the missiles struck true, a large divot cracking and crumbling in the pressure and heat.

“Final destination coming up, all passengers off!”

Nomfundo’s hands squeezed the steering wheel like a prized treasure, the dark skin on her knuckles turning a ghostly white. Her view of the cracked wall was only interrupted by a Lanzer placing a massive explosive charge on the truck’s reinforced bumper and its head turning inside to the young driver. “Oye! Dimba! That means you! Open the door!”

Ever since she had met Zama, she knew that this is what she was meant for. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes tightly, and counted down as her wheeled rocket barreled towards the end of the line. The voices in her ear could barely be heard over her racing heart forcing blood through her skull, and she couldn’t pay attention enough to notice the driver’s side door being ripped off.

Nomfundo’s lead truck crashed into the wall with the force of a deity’s fist, embedding itself in the divot, crumpling before the charge ignited and caused the wall to ripple with energy. 3 more trucks slammed into it from behind and did the same, before the 4th had enough space to sail through and slam into an inner wall. Young Dimba didn’t see this, as it took a moment before she opened her eyes as she sailed through the air in a Lanzer’s hand. Its jump off of the truck’s bed sent the mech clear over the explosion before landing on a roof. “You good, Dimba?”

Her breathing slowly settled as she watched the Siyanqoba’s main force flooded through the hole she had made, armed with century-old guns and covered with makeshift armor. An ancient jeep carrying Lord Zama himself rolled in slowly before he stood up, looked around, and locked eyes with the young hero of the day well above him. He then gave her a smile and a salute, which she returned with grateful tears in her eyes.

—

“Gebruikers bespeur. Oudiovisuele gebruikerskoppelvlak geaktiveer. Sleutel wagwoord in.”

Zama’s face crumpled at the sound of the system computer. He snapped his fingers at the followers behind him, and two engineers carrying a bundle of drives connected through a series of cables rushed ahead. “Shut this thing up.”

The engineers flipped through the possible inputs that it could take before deciding on a pair of aux speakers. “Language detected. Adjusting inputs accordingly. Enter password.”

Nomfundo, still sweating and shaking, peaked in through the doorway of the computer room as the adrenalin slowly wore off. Her eyes widened as she realized that this was the closest she had ever been to Lord Zama, his massive imposing figure covered in animal furs and skin as dark as the night sky was 100 years ago. Her legs subconsciously carried her closer to him.

Meanwhile, the engineer’s strange device erupted with hundreds, thousands of words in every language all at once, rapid fire with no breaths in between. The LBZ’s system computer couldn’t reply fast enough. “Password incorrect. Password incorrect. Password incPassword incoPasswoPassPasPapapapapppppppp”

Some buttons were pressed on one of the drives, and some buttons on another, and then the sounds coming from the speakers could only be described as unnatural and unholy. No creature in existence could produce those sounds. It turned into a cacophony, then a din, and then a painful buzz before it stopped abruptly as young Dimba held her ears in agony. “Password accccccccpppppp Rebooting. Please wait.”

The giant screen covering the wall went blank, then bright blue. Words in a language that Nomfundo didn’t recognize spilled over it before a text box appeared, and then another, and yet another still before the entire screen was covered. Then, a live video feed of the rocket on the launch pad appeared with a blinking cursor next to the phrase “Enter Command.” Nomfundo stopped next to the patriarch, and stared mouth agape. “What’s that?”

Surprised, Zama looked down at her and smiled. “Ah, my young hero,” he said with a voice that could move mountains. “This is our future, this will lead to our prosperity. Boys, activate your program.”

“Yes, my lord,” they responded faithfully, and pressed a few more buttons before the speakers activated again with a series of unrecognizable noises. The blinking text input disappeared beneath code appearing and disappearing with stunning speed. The rocket’s boosters turned on, and a faint roar echoed through the halls of the complex. Another window popped up showing a map of outer space showing a line from Kwazulu to the orbit around the moon. The line then flashed, and a hundred other lines appeared and disappeared one by one until only one remained, similar to the first. “Huh…” one of the engineers said.

“What do you mean ‘huh’?” the patriarch growled.

“No, nothing, my lord. This will be the path we desire.”

Nomfundo was understandably baffled. “Isn’t… isn’t this what is supposed to happen? The rocket takes the chargon to space?”

Her lord smiled, and his voice caused the building to quake. “Haha, oh, my small hero. Computer, show the space colonies rotating the moon”

A tube-shaped object appeared on the map on a circle around the moon. “Animate the path of the rocket in relation to the colonies.”

The rocket moved along the line that the computer had made, and Nomfundo watched as the rocket’s relative position slid directly to where the colony was, down to the kilometer. Lord Zama’s mouth widened into a row of bright ivory-white teeth. “The Abantu Benyanga will understand their mistake of abandoning us.”

Young Nomfundo was in awe. Millions of people will die, she realized. Lord Zama is a mastermind. It wouldn’t be for a few more years that she grew mature enough to realize the level of pure evil the man radiated, and by that time she was already on a path to grow close enough to do something about it.

Nomfundo Dimba art by Kartobes (NSFW)

[never-rpg]

JOLLY ROGER CREW: Open Skeletons Bios

BILL JUKES  — Bill Jukes came to Neverland with a crew of privateers and a loopy explorer who was paid by the Royal Navy to go on an expedition in search of the fabled fountain of youth. Sick of working under the Royal Navy and missing his earlier years of true piracy, he jumped crews and joined the Jolly Roger.

VICTOR BRAXTON  — Coming to the island seemed like a blessing at first, but Victor lives in constant fear because of how unpredictable the magic of the island can be. He’s witnessed others suddenly age decades at a time and crumble into so much dust. Victor is terrified that might happen to him or that, perhaps even worse, he’ll age as normal and the consumption will return. He’d rather be run through with a sword than die slowly, heaving out his lungs.

CANARY ROBB  — Canary Robb was brought to the island as a Lost Boy recruit and they had loved every moment of it. Unfortunately, their love of Neverland wasn’t enough to keep them from aging. So as had been the case for so many Lost Boys before them who Peter Pan had deemed too grown for to be a Lost Boy any longer: Canary Robb was exiled. Now, they’re quite happy as a pirate.

ISADORA BOOTH  — Pan had brought Isadora to the island in hopes that she would fill the void Wendy’s departure had created. Isadora was so wild and full of fire. Pan had been sure she would love the freedom the island gave her, understand the wild savagery of it and rejoice. But Pan was arrogant and presumptuous. Isadora held no romantic feelings for him or the way of the Lost Boys. She knew a cage when she saw one.

[liciatalks]

TWITTER 🐦

*my opinion, take it or leave it*

•••

Oh Billionaire Boy ran head first into the iceberg. The ship is sinking and everyone is heading for the life boats.

Watching all this go down, I can see three outcome

It goes up in a ball of fire, more employees get fire/leaves, leaving not enough to keep the site running

It somehow survives, either through is skeleton crew of employees or the user base staying on just long enough, and has it's own Renaissance period

It survives but it becomes a Alt-Right hellscape

Honestly I hope it's the first one. Hear me out!

I think other employees and the Twitter users should band together against Elon.

75-85%, that's how many employees Elon came in and let go without warning or made environment so toxic others left.

Now with new leadership coming in there's always layoff, but not like this. Employees/Teams that were vital to the company were fired. Employees that called out or try to bring up awareness of issues of a decision also fired.

I don't think Twitter should survive.

I want Elon to loose.

I want to see former employees find work either with better companies, or making their own passion project.

I want the users to support the employees. Band together to remind Elon that his site can't run without the people.

•••

But it's not all bad.

Other sites are seeing a user base boom.

Tumblr is heading into a Renaissance.

Pillowfort has open their site free to new users, making it more accessible.

Instagram might see enough artist come back and might force them away from E-commerce and influencers.

Ko-Fi, a site made for artist, is getting a lot of big name artist heading that way.

The amount of Artist I have followed to other sites. My feeds are going to be giving for weeks.

NFT's and Crypto seems to have a hard time surviving on other social platforms outside of Twitter, Twitter did cater to them, so we might see those die as well. (Probably not but one can hope)

•••

Either way Twitter dying might be good for the internet.

A warning. A lesson.

To the the employees and users, I hope you find success on other sites or in personal projects.

To Elon I hope you loose everything, you money hoarding man child.

To the internet, learn from this.

[werevampiwolf]

If you're lucky, you might get paid extra for having to work on holidays, but that's the most you'll get. I work at a movie theater, which is busiest on weekends and holidays, and there's only 5 days of the year where we get paid Time and a Half (so minimum wage but like if you work 8 hours, you get paid for working 12 hours) if and only if you actually work that day. Which is Easter, July 4th, Thanksgiving, Christmas Day, and New Years Day. And I'm pretty sure the only reason we get paid extra is because they're always extremely busy and the company knows half of us would just call out if we had to deal with all that shit AND miss spending the holiday with our family (and busy at my location is like 10k people in a day. I've had to deal with more than 10k people in one shift before because I'm the doorman, so I interact with every single person who walks in). I think you also get extra on Veterans Day, but only if you're a veteran, which is a relatively new policy. We're open every single day of the year. The only time that I know of that the company I work for voluntarily closed for a day was September 11, 2001, and that was because they were worried about further attacks. I used to say that was the last day we were closed, but then lockdowns happened.

Also, my work limits how many holidays you can not-work. In November, we get sent out a list like

Thanksgiving opening

Thanksgiving closing

Christmas eve closing

Christmas day opening

Christmas day closing

New Years eve closing

New Years Day opening

And then we have to rank them 1 to 7 in order of what we'd like to not work, and you basically are required to work the ones you rank 4 to 7. Also Christmas eve morning, New Years eve morning, and New Years Day evening are not options you can choose to have off. Which means you can't really go out of town for Christmas, since you may be working in the morning of Christmas eve. Also, the schedule starts on Friday and they don't send them out until Tuesday evening at the earliest and Thursday afternoon at the latest, so if something is on Friday, you get at most 2 and a half days and at least about 18 hours notice if you're working or not.

And all this is considered pretty normal.

Not even getting into the near-ubiquitous intentional understaffing. I've worked here for almost a decade, and I've seen the number of employees working at the same time decrease to at least half, if not less, for the same amount of work. We run an absolute skeleton crew. And that's all also considered normal. So is the fact that they tend to ignore break law. They have to follow the law for lunches because those are unpaid and thus recorded, but they don't follow the law on rest breaks, and the government doesn't really care. And since they run everyone ragged, doing the work of two or more people and either not getting breaks or being given breaks so late that they're pointless, the turnover is extremely high (most people only stay 3 to 4 months), unions aren't even something that occurs to anyone. (By rest breaks given so late that they're pointless, the way breaks usually work out for me is I work an 8 hour shift. I get a lunch break 2 to 3 hours in, and then I get two ten minute rest breaks in the last hour, or even the last half-hour of my shift. So I'm working 4 to 5 hours without a break in the middle of my shift. And that's if they give rest breaks at all. I've been here long enough that I don't put up with not being given my legally owed rest breaks so I just start annoying the crap out of the managers on the radio until they give it to me. But I'm also not allowed to leave my station unless someone covers me or I'll be fired, so they can stall until the end like that always do.

And I live in California, which has some of the strongest labor laws in the country. In some states, you don't even get mandatory rest breaks, and minimum wage is $7.25 an hour, or $2.15 if you're expected to get tips.

So yeah, employees in America are considered disposable and often treated little better than medieval serfs, and that's if they're following the law. Lots of businesses intentionally employ undocumented workers so they can treat them however they want (not even getting into all the business that rely on prison labor, which is actual slavery by definition). I know in Texas, they had to pass a law to allow employees working outside in the summer a 10 minute break every 4 hours to drink water, which was then overturned by the courts for being an excessive government interference on the free market. In Europe, the law is generally that employees have to be allowed to sit if the job can be done sitting, but in America, you're only allowed to sit if your job HAS to be done sitting. You're expected to stand for eight hours or more in a shift. My disabilities have gotten worse in the last decade, I've started using a cane (which I'm not allowed to use on the clock) and now I have a doctor's note to be able to sit but it's only good for when I'm not doing anything else. If there's customers or something to clean, I have to stand up. I literally sit down and stand up so often that I end up beetling my pants. (Beetled fabric is cloth that's been pounded on thousands of times until the fibers begin to break down and become smooth and shiny. I wear matte black pants and my ass ends up semi-gloss.) And many of my coworkers complain that I'm allowed to sit and they aren't.

(And we have an awful public transit system. I have to rely on the bus to get to work, and it takes about an hour and a half to get there and usually two or more hours to get home every shift. The actual time it takes to drive between my apartment and work is 15 to 20 minutes. There are days when I have shorter shifts where my total commute time is longer than my actual shift I'm being paid for. And on long shifts, if i work 8 hours, that's an 11 to 12 hour day of i go straight to work and come straight home after, 3 to 4 hours of which are unpaid)

This isn't even everything shitty about the standard treatment of workers in America but this is going to go on too long if I continue.

If you've ever wondered "why are Americans Like That?" A big part of it is that we're all constantly burnt out and worn down and exhausted, and it leads to odd behavior, at least in my experience.

(Bonus beetled fabric pic for the fiber arts people. Those light spots aren't a stain, and the pants were clean when photographed. They moves when you change the angle of the light. That's literally a semi-gloss finish. The matte part below it is the pantleg that I folded up to show how the fabric started)

This is what beetled fabric you can buy looks like

One of the most personal, saddest things about living in America is the summertime.

There is 0 reason for American adults not to have a summer break. I can only say this with a full throat so loud, but other countries have policies and laws that give adults summertime.

It is not a joke to say France is kind of shutdown for August. There are over a dozen countries that have enough mandatory, legally required leave available to take an entire month off, or more. PLUS mandatory PAID holidays.

It's Brazil and Russia (ooh scary BRIC countries outgrowing the US and coming for us). India AND China give up to 2 weeks mandatory vacation leave, plus sick leave on top.

It's Afghanistan (20 days). It's Angola (22). It's Argentina(25) and Armenia (25) and Australia (20). It's Cambodia (technically unlimited; you can eventually get 15 or 17 days per month vacation).

That us on top of mandatory PAID public holidays. Cambodia can somehow manage 27 mandatory paid holidays plus upwards of 18 vacation days per year and going up from there, and we in the US can't even manage mandatory paid holidays.

We don't even get paid on Christmas and Memorial Day. And even trying to convince some people, let alone politicians, that everyone should get paid on Christmas is unfair to compare to pulling teeth.

Please. Please. I want to have a better life. I want you to have a better life.

I want you to not miss Summer Break. Because France and Cambodia don't.

[alheria]

Fresh wind on a hot day (1/9)

He really should have listened to his instincts and stay the fuck home.

Jim Street woke up with probably the most unsettling feeling he's ever experienced, the one that screamed bad things will happen. To him, surely. So like a semi-reasonable adult he was, the fearless SWAT officer decided to ignore that sensation of upcoming doom and went to his extremely dangerous job, feeling as if it could well enough be his last day on this planet. And maybe he was lucky enough not to die, but in the end, perhaps death would have been better than the humiliation he suffered.

The second their shift started, the 20-David got dispatched to multiple shots fired in an office complex under construction. The building turned out to be a twelve-story concrete skeleton in early stages of development, thus the team split up in search for potential suspects. Climbing the stairs up to the entrance of the eleventh floor, Jim clashed with a hostile trying to escape via the staircase. He swiftly ducked the few clumsy shots, quickly radioed his crew for backup and began the chase. Which was not easy, the floor on that level was clearly unfinished, the limited path was cluttered with materials, equipment and cables. Simultaneously focused on keeping tabs on the running man and not stepping right into one of many holes, he failed to notice when the looped cable caught onto his shoe. Few meters of sprint later, the cable couldn't stretch no more. The harsh, unexpected pull made Street lose the balance and fall down through the nearby opening. "Luckily" for him, the line was strong enough, instead of falling all the way to the ground below, the officer violently flew to the side, painfully hitting a support column he somehow managed to grab to stabilize himself. It minimized the swinging, but didn't change the fact that he was now dangling from the ceiling like a fucking chandelier.

For roughly ten minutes he hanged there, waiting for the team to finish the job, hand over the shooters and come to his rescue. Another five it took them to stop laughing hysterically before examining the situation their teammate found himself in and agreeing external resources were needed to safely get him down.

-This is the funniest shit I've ever seen. -chuckled Chris, wiping away the tears, having a hard time keeping composure when her best friend slowly spun in circles like a shish kebab, frowning furiously and cursing his luck once in a while.

-Chris, shut up and focus on recording. -ordered Hondo, poorly hiding a wide smile behind his hand. -No one's gonna believe without a proof.

-I see it with my own eyes and still cannot believe it. -hummed Luca, cautiously observing the younger man. What happened to him might have been funny, although the cable could snap at any moment. Jim wasn't hanging that high, but could still break his neck upon impact. -Send me those pictures later, Chris, so I can print one and hang it in my locker.

-Do you think this cable will hold him long? -wondered Tan taking some pictures himself. 

-He's not that heavy, I bet he could hang up there a whole day. -responded nonchalantly Deacon, looking outside at the pulling up firetruck. Shortly, six people emerged out of it, grabbed some equipment and quickly headed inside.

-Should I cancel the firefighters? -snorted Chris, waving at Street when his face was in direct view.

-This! Is! Not! A circus show! -he screamed. -Take me the fuck down!

-We told you there is no way! -she shouted back. -Gotta wait for the fire guys!

-How long?! -Jim whined. -Not to complain, but this position is rather uncomfortable, and I think I can't feel my leg anymore! 

-You think?! -exclaimed worryingly Luca. The relaxed atmosphere suddenly tensed. Street losing feeling in his leg was no joke. He needed to get down, now. -Where the fuck is that backup?!

-Right here! -called out a calm, male voice coming from the staircase direction. An older firefighter emerged from the entrance, followed by five more. Hondo quickly approached the man to let himself known as the leader of this Doom Squad. He briefly introduced himself as Captain Nash and proceeded to assess the situation. -We will have your guy back down in no time.

Two younger firefighters, Eddie and Buck, were sent upstairs while the rest debated if the air cushion they have on them would fit in the limited space. It wouldn't. The second-best option was to simply pull the stranded officer up. 

-Can't pull him up Cap, rough edges could tear the cable. -reported the blonde man upon returning from the higher floor, making Street sigh very loudly. He didn't need any more bad news, he needed solutions. Luckily, the firefighter had one: -I say I lower myself from up there, grab him, then we cut the cable and go down.

Captain Nash frowned furiously before nodding eagerly:

-Okay, let's do it. Take Ravi with you. 

The three guys quickly moved back up with necessary equipment. At that point, Jim couldn't give any more fucks. He was not feeling well. It's been around twenty minutes since he fell. His head was pounding, eyes tired out, the tied ankle was getting numb, in contrast to the bruised arm that began to burn. The officer was dozing off slightly when some small concrete pieces bounced off his uniform and flew down. He looked up to see one of the firefighters standing at the edge of the opening, cheerfully talking to the others working upstairs before beginning to carefully lower himself on the line he was attached to.

-Hey Jim, I am Buck, you okay up here? -asked the man, assessing the situation from closer perspective. He didn't like how tight the cable was on the leg. It had to come off soon.

-Do I look okay?! -barked Street as the sleepiness got abruptly replaced by deep frustration. He absolutely hated needing help. -I am dangling like a fucking piñata!

The rescue guy snorted so hard the officer was officially ready to die from embarrassment. After apologizing profoundly, Buck explained vaguely the process of getting them back on the solid ground. The firefighter would put a harness on Jim, identical to the one he was wearing. He would then hold him still while his teammate cuts the cable. After that's done, he would rotate him upwards, and they would be lowered down. Easy-peasy, the firefighter said.

It was, in fact, not easy-peasy at all. At least not for Street, who almost vomited upon returning to "normal" body position, feeling the blood and contents of the stomach move around to the correct places. His eyes went so blurry for a few seconds, he didn't even notice reaching the floor until the injured ankle flared with pain under the pressure of his weight.

-Shit! -he cursed, tightly grabbing onto the firefighter's shoulder to regain balance. The man instinctively shifted and wrapped his arm around Street's waist. -Fucking hell. -whispered the officer, glancing at the throbbing leg. The leather shoe was terribly mangled, but still intact, hopefully saved the flesh from severe damage.

-How about we sit you down? -suggested Buck, with a compassionate smile, slowly guided Jim towards a stack of wooden panels where he quickly got surrounded by his relieved team and tended to by a female paramedic. Hen was her name. She gently took off the shoe and pulled the sock, revealing a prominent mixture of dark colors painted on the burning skin. Luca reassuringly rubbed the tense back of Street's neck when a quiet fuck escaped his mouth. He prayed it to only looked that bad. Being benched for a long time was out of question, not when he was still pretty new at SWAT. If he lost the spot...there would be nothing left.

-Huh, seems like the shoe and the length of the cable saved the day. -she hummed, slightly rotating the ankle, making Jim's eye twitch in discomfort. Seeing that, Chris moved closer to squeeze his shoulder. Maybe it was a rather hilarious situation at first, but in the end, her best friend getting hurt was no fun. -Some swelling, bruising, broken vessels, and a few pulled muscles for sure, nothing more than that I believe. -informed the paramedic as she requested an elastic bandage she then began to tie around the injury to prevent from straining further. -Rest and ice should do the job, but you may want to have it looked at to confirm. -Hen concluded, supportive smile flashed on her face. -Done. Are there any other injuries?

-No, I am good, thanks. -Street lied, not keen on bothering anyone anymore, he wanted to leave already and forget about this horrible day. The arm didn't even hurt that much, he could always go to see a doctor later. 

-Want a ride to the hospital to see a surgeon? -Hen asked standing up, but Jim denied.

-I will go if I must, I happen to know one and their girlfriend owes me a big favour for being an ass today. -he smirked, pinching Chris's hand, who laughed mockingly in response and roughly ruffled his hair. 

-Well enough to joke around, I see. -observed Hondo, putting a stop to the immature shenanigans. -Let's roll, shall we?

As it might have been suspected, helping a rather heavy man with one unusable leg get down ten flights of stairs was not easy. Both Luca and the firefighter politely offered to carry him, which ended in Jim saying he may be injured, but is fully capable of committing murder if anyone dares to throw him over their shoulder. So, the overly proud SWAT officer for ten minutes, possibly more, hopped on his one leg all the way outside, minimally supported by Chris holding him firmly. Once out of the building, Luca, bless his thoughtful heart, offered to move Betty closer. Street, leaning on the wall next to the entrance, was unwillingly watching the video of himself when the fire crew passed by, packed up and ready to leave. When the tall one emerged, Jim realized something. He hasn't even thanked him.

-Hey, you over there! Buck?! -he shouted. The firefighter stopped abruptly and turned around with a puzzled look.

-Thanks a lot man!

The warm smile that appeared on his, quite handsome actually, face before he nodded and disappeared behind the firetruck, made Street's chest feel weirdly tight. An emotional response he instantly recognized. 

The Omega side of his was clearly attracted to that fine, Alpha guy.

---

Somehow, after being sent home and later forced to see a doctor, benched for a whole week Jim ended up in a bar, having early evening drinks with Chris and her partner Amelia, whom Street absolutely adored. His two favourite girls met, not surprisingly, in a hospital, roughly half a year ago. That time, it was Luca who required medical assistance after getting hit by a perp with a metal baseball bat so hard, everyone around could hear his humerus crack. The second the tall, confident surgeon with a fierce sea of long red curls and radiant, blue eyes entered the room, Chris was gone, visibly unable to form any coherent thoughts all the time the beautiful Alpha spoke. Before the doc left, she glanced briefly at the absent-minded officer in a very specific way, giving Street an opportunity to act. He knew well enough his best friend was hopeless at initiating relations with people she was attracted to, thus he ran after the lady and gave her Chris's number. The rest was history.

-Next time, listen to your instincts. -suggested Amelia upon hearing how Jim vaguely knew in advance some misfortune was overdue to strike him. -Doctor's orders.

-No need to tell me Ams, one questionable feeling, and I am not even leaving the bed. -sighted the cop, twirling the half-empty beer bottle on the coaster. He was still a little shaken up, the pain in his side now muted by painkillers kept reminding he could've easily died today.

-Hey, Street, isn't that the firefighter that rescued you? -asked suddenly his teammate pointing with her head at a man chatting with a bartender, bringing her friend back from the depressing thoughts.

-...yeah, it is. -Jim hummed, focusing his attention on what was his name? Buck. Damn, he looked real good in the uniform, although in the casual setting was not lacking at all, defined muscles nicely hugged by a pinkish t-shirt on a side of too tight, round ass clearly outlined by dark blue jeans. Simple, but effective.

-Which one? -demanded Amelia, absolutely passionate about any type of drama. She followed Chris's gesture and instantly whistled. -Woah, he's fine. You should totally go for him. -implied, making Jim avert his gaze.

-You guys think? -he frowned. -I mean, he is pretty hot. -added, once again turning back to glance at the handsome firefighter. Was he even if that man's league? It would feel horrible to get humiliated in front of the same person twice in a single day.

-When was the last time you got some D? -asked Chris, knowing well enough she's never heard him talk about any recent intimate encounters. And he, by all means, wasn't shy. Just not getting laid. 

-Oh Lord, no clue. -he chuckled. Trying to get into SWAT and then working extremely hard to keep the prestigious slot was his sole focus lately, there was no time to bother with hookups, let alone dating.

-Exactly! -she exclaimed, supported by Amelia's eager nods. -Go! Maybe you will finally stop third wheeling us.

Seeing the firefighter disappear in the bathroom, he made the decision - fuck it. There was not much to lose, only some dignity and self-confidence. 

-Wish me luck. -Jim laughed, encouraged by the girls, quickly gathered his stuff, carefully got up, and slowly limped after the man.

Buck was washing his hands when Street quietly entered the room and leaned on the heavy door, arms crossed over his chest.

-Hey. -he said eventually, making the Alpha twitch in surprise, definitely not expecting anyone to talk to him. 

-I know you. -observed intelligently the firefighter as he turned around, initial confusion in the blue eyes swiftly turned into joyful gleam. -Hi there, officer. -he smiled, drying his hands with a paper towel. -How's the leg?

-Fixable. -Jim answered shortly, starting to overheat, feeling as it was a big mistake to attempt flirting with such an attractive person. He had no idea what to say. Or how to escape.

-That's good to hear. -Buck nodded, throwing the paper away. -Is there anything else I could help you with? -he asked, taking a few steps closer, gazing at the cop in a way the older man couldn't exactly place. Like he wanted something but wasn't going to say what, rather waited for Jim to give it to him. And for the love of God, Street hoped he is not wrong about it because he was about to risk it all.

-I'm not sure. -murmured the officer, not breaking the intense eye contact. -Depends if you are willing to assist me once again. -he added, suddenly pushing himself away from the door and not at all purposefully losing balance on the injured ankle to have the firefighter instinctively stabilize him. The large hands holding the waist burned terribly on Jim's sensitive to touch skin, as his own, greedy palms attached themselves to Buck's hard chest.

He couldn't believe this silly stunt actually worked. 

-My duty is to serve the ones in need. -smirked the blonde man, lowering his face to capture Street's lips in a long, sweet kiss. -Hmm, that's unexpected. -he whispered once they parted, nuzzling the soft cheek as he inhaled the surprising, very pleasant scent. -Would you like us to move somewhere more...suitable to continue? -wondered, wrapping his strong arms around the other man in a tight, possessive embrace. 

-Yes, please.

---

The second they entered Buck's apartment and the firefighter pinned him against the door, Jim's mind went completely blank.

Their starved lips instantly crashed, tongues intertwined, exploring the depths of wet mouths as the desperate hands roamed the muscular bodies, sneaked under the shirts in search for skin-to-skin contact. Street's lungs struggled to breathe, filled with that amazing smell of an aroused Alpha, who growled when their hips crashed, pressing together the obvious erections. Upon hearing the dominant sound, the officer barely kept his composure, not keen on the Omega side taking charge. Trying to stay in control, he groped Buck's ass with one hand while the other travelled up to the bright, silky strands, entangled itself in them and pushed the head down to deepen the heated kiss.

-Where is your fucking bed? -he demanded, backing away far enough to roughly pull the younger man's hair towards the back to get better access to that beautiful, fragrant neck. He sucked onto the sensitive flesh, leaving a trail of red marks accompanied by a series of very loud moans, Buck's trembling in pleasure body went all limp in his lover's arms. It was so fucking hot.

-Upstairs. -the firefighter managed to say, his previously sharp gaze now glossy, head still tilted up as he pointed at the staircase. There was no way in hell Jim was climbing it with this injury. He completely let go of Buck, confusing him horribly, but before he asked what's wrong, Street rolled his eyes, threw his arms around the marked neck and whispered:

-I'll let you carry me this one time.

And oh, Buck didn't need to hear no more. Swiftly grabbed the muscular thighs and effortlessly pulled the cop up, which was quite impressive considering how heavy Jim was. He quickly moved them to the bedroom, further turned on by the Omega's hard cock pressed to his stomach, and gently lowered him onto the mattress. Not wasting any time, he started unbuckling Street's strained pants while he got rid of his shirt, hoping his developing bruising gets left unnoticed in the weak light.

The firefighter slid his palm under Jim's ass to lift the hips in order to pull the jeans down, making him gasp in relief when the pressure on his penis lessened. The soaked underwear quickly followed, leaving him completely naked, while Buck was yet to undress. 

-Enjoying the show? -he barked, biting off moans as calloused fingers tenderly grazed his abs, trailing down towards the flushed head, but not touching it, just lingering around the prominent erection, teasing.

-I do. -snorted the Alpha, taking off his own shirt, revealing a breathtaking, athletic body covered in odd tattoos. At this point Jim wasn't sure if he's going to survive seeing what's under those pants that soon joined the rest of clothing on the floor. His heart briefly stopped. 

It was fucking huge.

Street has seen dick before, although only in Betas and never so big. He swallowed heavily, wondering how this monster is going to fit inside without tearing him apart. Buck, oblivious to his lover's worries, leaned over the cop and kissed him while his hand got to work down there, one finger easily slipping into the leaking hole, promptly joined by another. Their horny dicks rubbed each-other as he stretched the entrance, trying to prepare it to easily accommodate his width. Jim was melting, his mind going in wrong directions, Alpha-pleasing noises started involuntarily escaping his throat as the firefighter penetrated him skillfully. A long, low-tone groan escaped Buck's lips when he abruptly pulled away, reached for something on the nightstand and, slightly shifting to better fit between Street's spread legs, suggestively ripped the small package with his teeth.

-I need you to tell me if it's too much. -he ordered, pulling the Omega's ass onto his bent knees, lining himself up as he waited for a verbal response. Jim struggled for a second to collect any coherent thoughts, too overwhelmed by an incredible sensation of being touched and cared for by a strong, respectful Alpha.

-I will, but I kinda want you to make me scream. -grinned the officer, through foggy eyes watching Buck's pupils go insanely wide before he inhaled sharply and with zero warning, in one, smooth move fully buried himself inside.

Street was done for. He choked on air, shocked by the unfamiliar sensation of being filled with such large penis, which actually didn't move at first, the firefighter politely waited for his lover to adjust, even though raw desire burned his flesh alive. Pressing impossibly deeper, he nearly glued himself to Jim's chest, crushing his neglected erection between them, leaving feather-light kisses on his trembling jaw. When it stopped, he started slowly thrusting into those incredibly wet insides, picking up the pace as the cop began to respond more adequately once the tense muscles finally relaxed. The Omega weakly threw his arms around Buck's back, nose pressed to the warm shoulder, basking in the lovely scent while the younger man fucked him senseless, grazing the prostate over and over again with the fat shaft.

-More. -Street whined, causing the firefighter's spine to violently shiver and his vocal cords to purr like a fucking wild cat, his moves now at brutal speed, powerful enough to make Jim's eyes roll to the back of his head as he got flooded with pure ecstasy. -Oh God, Buck, just like that. -he cried out, clawing onto his lover's sweaty back, feeling the orgasm approach fast. -I'm close. -blurted, his back arching, stranded dick pleasantly sliding between hard abdomens. The Alpha's low groans mixed with the Omega's louder moans filled the whole apartment as the thrusts turned erratic, signalising Buck's not going to last long either.

-Me too. -he agreed, pressing his forehead to the nook of the officer's flushed neck. -Come with me, Jim. -whispered before biting into that painfully sensitive flesh as his hips bottomed down for the very last time, completely breaking Street's mind. His entire body spasmed, insides contracted on the heavily spilling penis when the orgasm hit them both at once, blinding their eyes, shaking them to the core. He could somehow taste blood in his mouth, but had no recollection of where it came from. And felt too good to give a fuck. Buck, still twitching from the insane force of his release, although more coherent now, shifted to lay a tender kiss on Jim's parted lips.

-Please, stay. -muttered the Alpha under his breath, shyness clear in the quiet voice. Street only smiled in response, pulled the other man closer and started to reassuringly stroke his warm neck, an intimate gesture that spoke clearer than any words could. 

He wasn't planning on leaving just yet.

[gins-potter]

Febuwhump Day 17

Title: this smoke in the air reminds me of you

Fandom/Pairing: 911 Lone Star/Tarlos

Prompt: natural disaster (alt.)

There’s no escaping the smoke no matter where Carlos goes.  It’s in the air outside forcing school children in and thinning the streets until the once thriving city feels more like a ghost town.  There’s not even a reprieve when he gets home after his shift, the scent clinging to his hair and uniform even after multiple washes.  A permanent ashy reminder in his mouth and nose of where his boyfriend is.

The wildfires mean that TK hasn’t been able to come home in weeks, camping out with the rest of the firefighters in makeshift tents wherever they can find safety for a couple of hours.  He’s barely heard from his boyfriend in that time either, a few brief phone calls barely long enough to find out how the other is, and mostly just a text at the end of each day to let Carlos know that he's still alive out there, still battling on.  Carlos doesn’t let it show how much he clings to those nightly texts, how his eyes trace over the words until they blur together and he can recite them from memory anyway.

These shifts Carlos works while TK is away are maybe the hardest of his career, and certainly the worst since those early days where Carlos had felt like his heart would beat right out of his chest every minute of his shift.  These weeks while the wildfires have waged are different, a different kind of fear, a lesson in organised chaos.  The Austin FD having sent so many of their crews to help in neighbouring San Angelo have left little more than a skeleton staff to deal with the run of the mill fires in Austin while the police are called in to try and fill the gaps as best they can.  Not running into the fires themselves of course, but more and more they’re called  to assist with medical calls, to lend a hand with crowd control, whatever that can do to help out.  Carlos is almost grateful for the long, hard shifts that leave him exhausted by the time he collapses into the bed at the end of each one.

Almost.

Almost, because it doesn’t seem to matter how busy or how hard a shift is, his mind inevitably turns to TK, wondering where he is, how he is.  With that smoke hanging in the air as the fires rage and rage it’s impossible to keep his thoughts from his boyfriend for long. It’s especially hard at night, in the bed that feels too big and too empty without TK there to fill it, and it seems that no matter how tired Carlos is, he doesn’t sleep any better, not with TK gone.

It’s during one of his shifts, weeks into the wildfires, while he and Mitchell are driving around in their patrol car, her behind the wheel, while Carlos watches a news report on the fires on his phone, when they get a call out from dispatch.  It’s outside of their usual beat, right on the border where their jurisdiction bleeds into the San Angelo PD’s, but it’s a report of looting and given how stretched everyone’s resources are at the moment, Carlos and Mitchell both agree to take it.

The looters are long gone by the time they pull up at the address, leaving the caller, the homeowner, kicking at some blackened remains of her house.  Carlos shudders as he steps out of the patrol car, unable to keep his eyes from raking over the destroyed house, which had clearly once been surrounded by dense scrub, but which is now as flattened as the house itself.  Fear tears at him as he imagines the kind of fire that can raze houses and scrubland like this, then imagines his boyfriend facing down that kind of fire.

“Are you alright, Ma’am,” Mitchell calls as they approach, and the woman scoffs something like a laugh.

Carlos can’t say he blames her for the reaction.  He doesn’t think his reaction would be any better if this was all that remained of his home, his memories.

“There’s barely anything left, and they still-” she breaks off with a shake of her head and kicks another piece of debris.  “Bastards.”

“I’m sorry,” Carlos offers her, the only thing he can in this moment, and she nods, although he’s not sure his words are any real help.

“My wife’s a captain with the San Angelo FD,” the woman says, and Carlos isn’t sure how to help but to listen.  “She was out fighting these fires while our house burned.  She knows it’s gone but she hasn’t seen it yet… it’s going to kill her.”

“I’m sorry,” Carlos says again.  Then, “My boyfriend’s with the 126 in the Austin FD.”

He doesn’t need to say that TK’s out there as well, because when he meets the gaze of the woman he’s sure the fear reflecting out of his eyes is the exact same as that in the woman’s face.  She nods slowly, and there’s understanding in that nod, a shared pain, a shared fear, both worrying about the people they love.

Mitchell clears her throat and offers to take a description of the looters, which the woman gives half-heartedly.  They all know the likelihood they find the people that had kicked the woman when she was already down, but it feels the least they can do.

They leave the woman with a brief touch on her shoulder, but haven’t made it to the patrol car when her sharp cry has them whirling back around.  But while she looks unhurt, the woman does have tears streaming down her face, one hand over her mouth, as she gazes down at her phone.

Her voice is little more than a whisper and yet it carries all the way to them.  “It’s contained, they’re saying they finally have the fire contained.”

Relief so intense that it nearly buckles his knees sweeps through Carlos, even as he pulls his phone out to find a text from TK already waiting for him, telling him that he’s okay and he’ll be home that night.  Carlos is grateful for Mitchell’s hand that’s suddenly on his shoulder because he feels on the verge of sinking to the ground right there amongst the blackened grass.  He and the woman both look up from their phone, meeting each other’s gaze, and that same relief is reflecting back at him, both of them knowing that they’ll be okay no matter what else has happened.

Carlos is exhausted by the time his shift comes to an end but he’s too keyed up to sleep, instead pacing around the bottom floor of his loft until he hears the quiet sound of a key turning in the lock.  TK clearly hadn’t even stopped at the station long enough to do more than drop his gear because he’s absolutely filthy, still wearing a soot-stained uniform, and face covered in ash.  But Carlos doesn’t care, and TK must not either, because he takes a few steps into the loft and slams into Carlos, both of them wrapping their arms around one another.

“Hey baby,” TK murmurs into his neck, and he sounds tired, so bone-wearily tired that Carlos holds him a little tighter, taking his weight. 

“Hey,” he says in return, then says it again, dragging a hand up and down TK’s back in a reminder that he’s here now, that he’s safe.

Later he’ll coax TK upstairs and into the shower, later he and TK will curl up in their bed warm and together, but for now they just hold one another.

[saurexhas]

Love is Blind - Part 3

We’re back to MC’s perspective with this one, and prepare for feels!

Fun fact, as someone who rarely writes xreader stuff, the sheer amount of times I write you or your is driving me crazy because I legit cannot replace them with some other descriptor like I would in third person to break things up XD

As always, mind the tags, you never know what I get up to when I’m writing angst :)

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Blinding pain was all you could recall as your mind drifted towards consciousness, hazy memories mingling with your dreams. You could hear Nightmare calling to you, his voice raw with so many emotions that it was almost overwhelming. The others could be heard too, though most of their voices had a somber note to them. Yet as you tried to recall what you could see, the only thing that came to you was the colour red.

With no means of making sense of the fragmented memories, your mind let them go only to be replaced with new sensations as you truly started to wake. Every little shift brought pain, your face feeling like it was still being burned by Ink. Your limbs felt stiff, like there was something restraining them, though at least your surroundings were soft. It felt like your bed, the same soft sheets and blankets that Nightmare had gotten for you. But as you thought of the dark god, you were made acutely aware of just how dark it was right now.

Nothing you did could alleviate the darkness; it was the same whether your eyes were open or closed. Considering how even your eyes ached and burned, it felt better to keep them closed for now since nothing could fix the crushing darkness. As panic set in, your movements became more erratic. Even if you knew you were safe within your room in the castle, that fear still gripped your soul with relentless strength. Blankets were nearly ripped off in your efforts to escape, and as you sat up in bed you hoped that your negativity would be a beacon to Nightmare.

The feeling of cool, slippery bones sliding against your cheek served to snap you out of your hysteria, your hopes answered in the familiarity of Nightmare’s presence. With his touch, you felt him steal away the negativity within you, leaving you calm if feeling a bit empty. He only absorbed your emotions whenever they were clearly out of control, so you were never too mad at him for doing so since they would come back after a while. And it served this time to calm you down from the panic that had consumed you, allowing you to relax as you leaned into the hand still resting against your cheek.

“There we go, little moon, you’re alright,” Nightmare cooed, his thumb rubbing against your face while his tentacles all moved to ensure you remained calm. While you couldn’t see them, they remained close enough that you could feel them crawling along, finding different places to rub against in a petting motion. “Just relax for me, okay?”

“A-Alright,” you stuttered out, melting under his precise touches. A sigh left your mouth as the previous tension within you let go, leaving you feeling truly relaxed. As much as you wanted to simply stay in the peaceful moment though, a thought kept nagging at you as you turned your head in the direction of his voice. “Night… why can’t I see you? E-Even if I open my eyes, it’s… just black. T-There’s nothing.”

The appendages currently touching you froze for just a second, and even as they continued their comforting motions, there was a stiffness to them that wasn’t present before. Silence filled the room for quite a time, all the while you waited with growing dread. Eventually, your partner spoke up, but his words weren’t what you were expecting. “What do you remember happening on our little outing to Outertale?”

“Outertale?” You echoed, thinking back on what you could recall. The two of you had been watching the stars, enjoying a moment of peace away from the crew. But that peace was shattered by the Star Sanses ambushing you, attacking Nightmare while he had nobody to fight alongside. You could recall Ink pursuing you despite Nightmare’s efforts to keep the Stars focused solely on him, and you remembered the joint attack that you saw coming from Dream and Ink. That attack would’ve crippled Nightmare if it didn’t kill him, and you clearly remembered your last-minute decision to save him despite the risk. Beyond that though, everything was a blur. “I… I remember the fight, and… I remember how the Stars were teaming up to take you down. I know I tried to save you, but… I don’t remember what happened after that…”

You trailed off, frowning at the gap in your memory that stopped you from answering any questions you may have had. The frown was quickly swept away though as you felt a gentle ‘kiss’ placed against the back of your hand, Nightmare’s teeth mimicking the affectionate gesture as they pressed against your skin. “Yes, you saved me, little moon. You saw right through my brother’s trickery, and you risked your own life to save mine. Part of me wishes to berate your foolishness for rushing into such danger, but… I’m more angry at myself for being unable to save you in turn.” The hand rubbing against your cheek shifted up to your temple, gently brushing against the underside of your eye. Yet you couldn’t feel his bones directly, merely the pressure indicating the presence.

Something was in the way, preventing him from touching you directly at that spot. Before his tentacles could stop you, your free hand reached up only to freeze at the far too familiar feeling. “B-Bandages? Night, w-why are my eyes covered in bandages?”

Your trembling hand was gently coaxed away from your face, a soft tentacle wrapping around the limb and pulling it back down. While you now knew why the world was dark for you, it only brought up so many more questions, and from the sound of Nightmare’s sigh, he didn’t want to tell you. “MC, you… Dream- ugh, this is harder to say delicately than I expected.”

“Then spit it out!” You almost growled, panic and desperation clawing at your soul. Until you had an answer, the feeling wouldn’t go away, even if your partner tried to force apathy upon you.

Thankfully, the dark god hadn’t resorted to attempting such, a groan of displeasure leaving him. You tightened your grip on his hand, silently begging him to simply be blunt if stepping around the issue was too difficult. Any answer would be better than nothing at this point… at least that’s what you thought.

Your opinion on the matter very quickly changed as Nightmare spoke up. “When Dream fired his arrow, you pushed me out of the way of his strike. Your actions spared me, but… his arrow damaged your eyes. That alone wouldn’t have been so difficult to deal with, however Ink, that chaotic little devil… his paint hit both of us. It did little to hurt me since my brother’s attack missed, but…” The dark skeleton trailed off, and you could’ve sworn that you heard him sniffle a bit. Such a “weak” display of emotion was uncharacteristic of him, even in front of you. “I’m so sorry little moon, but his paint got into your eyes. It burned them, and… we couldn’t undo the damage. You… I’m afraid you’re blind.”

“W-What?” Your voice was barely more than a whisper as you processed his words, finding yourself riddled with disbelief. There’s no way you could be blind, there’s no way the guys failed to heal you. Cross and Pyre had both taken care of your injuries in the past, and you knew that Nightmare’s preferential treatment of you made them too scared to fail for fear of his wrath. “You… you have to be wrong… t-there’s no way I’m suddenly blind!”

“MC, please calm down. You’re still recovering from your injuries, you could hurt yourself-”

“I’m already hurt, Nightmare! You told me I’m fucking blind!” You screamed, your eyes stinging as if they were trying to produce tears. Yet you couldn’t feel anything, not even the damn bandages growing damp. Growing furious, your hand shot up to rip them away, your arm pulling out of the tentacle’s lax grip with ease. The bandages had to be the reason you couldn’t see, it wasn’t that you were blinded!

Just as your hand managed to touch the soft fabric, the tentacle returned to grappling your limb with renewed vigor. “MC, stop this foolishness! You’ll only hurt yourself further!” Nightmare snapped, the tentacle continuing to wind its way around your arm and pull with increasing strength. Gritting your teeth, you dug your fingers into the bandages, determined to pull them away, and simply stopped fighting against the tentacle.

Your arm was yanked from your head, tearing bandages and damaging the still-healing flesh beneath. But despite the pain, you opened your now uncovered eye only for despair to hit you. “I… I-I’m blind,” you mumbled, feeling a sob build in the back of your throat even as your eyes refused to let you cry. They only continued to burn, the sensation growing worse the longer you held your eye open for. “I-I’m blind… I’m blind... I-”

Several tentacles wrapped tightly around you, bringing you closer to Nightmare as he hugged you to his chest. It managed to stop your spiralling thoughts, your hands digging into his jacket as you tried to come to terms with reality. Nightmare wasn’t lying; you really had been blinded by the Stars.

Some of your negativity was siphoned off, but most of it remained so that you could process your emotions and not simply run from them. Part of you wished to ask for the same emotionless bliss that Killer enjoyed, even if temporary, but you knew that your partner wouldn’t oblige. Still, he at least made the swirling negativity within you easier to handle, allowing you to have your moment with the god’s silent support.

It was only when the maelstrom within you calmed that he pulled away, his fingers brushing against the tender, burnt skin on your face. You couldn’t help the flinch, now keenly aware of the pain that your actions caused. The skeleton said nothing as he shifted, rustling being heard from what you assumed was the nightstand. It wasn’t much longer before the rest of the ripped bandages were stripped away, the air stinging your face until they were replaced with fresh ones that hid your injuries from the world once again.

“There, I’ll have to apply a cream to your facial burns a bit later, it seems you managed to rip open some of the blisters so I’ll wait until Cross can heal them.” More rustling could be heard from around the nightstand again, and you so desperately wished that you could simply see what was going on rather than trying to guess. “In the meantime, you should eat something now that you’re awake.”

One thing you were at least acutely aware of was Nightmare’s presence; the air around him was always a degree or two cooler, and there was a faint aura of dread that emanated from him. In your time together, you’d grown so used to his aura that it no longer bothered you. What did bother you was when you felt that aura pull away, your panic surging at the thought of being left alone. Without thought, you blindly reached out for him, managing to grab one of his slippery tentacles despite his movements. “P-Please! Don’t go! I... I-I don’t want to be alone…”

“MC, I’m just going to the kitchen to have Pyre prepare you something to eat,” he argued. Despite the fact that your eyes were hidden by bandages, you immediately tried to put on your best puppy-dog eyes, the one look that you knew he couldn’t resist. If it was from an actual puppy, Nightmare might’ve kicked the thing away out of annoyance, but you’d worn him down to where he caved to your begging almost every time.

This time was no exception, the god of negativity sighing as his tentacle wrapped around your arm and his presence returned to your side. “Alright, I’ll remain here for now. When one of the others comes to check in, I’ll send them to get your meal. Will that appease you?”

“Mhm,” you simply hummed, following the tentacle back to Nightmare’s chest where you proceeded to snuggle into it. He might’ve been seen as cold and cruel to everyone else, but he was nothing but a source of comfort for you. It would take quite a bit of adjustment and probably a few more meltdowns before you properly came to terms with your newfound blindness, but for now you felt surprisingly calm as you simply enjoyed the moment of rare peace in the castle.

“Hey Night, do they know we’re a couple yet?”

Just as your partner went to answer, the door to your room slammed open, causing you to jolt and pull back.

“Woah, not what I was expecting to walk into!” Killer’s voice echoed throughout the room, your face heating up despite your best efforts. “Didn’t know that you were into cuddles, boss! Guess it takes a certain special someone to make ya all soft~”

A groan left Nightmare’s mouth, and you could practically envision him pinching the bridge of nose at Killer’s words. “If they didn’t before, then they definitely know now.”

The two of you didn’t hear the end of it from Killer until Nightmare slammed the door in his face, though he could be heard loudly blabbing about what he’d seen to everyone in the castle. Yelling would be a more apt word. Still, it at least brought some of the others to check on you now that you were awake. Cross tended to your burns with some healing magic, dulling the pain and taking care of the blisters that you broke open in your earlier hysteria. Pyre rambled off something about cooking from the great Papyrus before darting off as quick as he came, returning with a bowl of soup that honestly smelled delicious right around the time Cross left. Nightmare never left your side the entire time, treating your wounds alongside Cross while one of his tentacles almost never broke contact with you. It was more reassuring than you would’ve thought it would be, allowing you to physically feel that he was staying with you just as he said he would.

It was strange having everyone fuss over you so much, though you guessed that might’ve been the fact that your relationship with Nightmare was now out in the open. It wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be though, as everyone except for Killer was respectful. Killer… well, there was only so much you could expect from someone who insulted others for the fun of it, so it wasn’t too surprising nor hard to deal with. It was almost… easier now that you didn’t have to hide your feelings for the lord of the castle, and it might’ve been your imagination but the others almost seemed to be treating you better than before. Pyre was always kind to you, and Cross was never difficult, but they seemed to be treating you a bit more carefully now than before. It was likely all in your head though, merely some of the castle’s nicer residents showing compassion to you in one of your times of weakness. Killer certainly wasn’t acting any differently. Regardless, the biggest source of comfort was your boyfriend sitting next to you, never leaving your side even as the warm meal, healing magic, and sheer emotional drain left you nodding off and relaxing back into the covers of your bed.

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[mothocean]

ANSWER REVEAL (includes spoilers for the end of the main game and many of the seasons):

1- the little prince is in fact there! During July-September of 2021 there was a collab season (basically an event with a storyline and quests that runs for several months) between sky and The Little Prince, in which the player could experience the story of the book (slightly adjusted to fit sky's enviornment/themes) as a stand-in for the pliot and companion to the little prince. You can still play the season's questline and spirit cutscenes, though due to copyright reasons the little prince appears in all of them as a spirit (whereas during the season he was 'alive' like the player characters).

2 - all the humanoid npcs in the game are spirits/ghosts of the previous residents of the sky kingdom, which was destroyed in a war/some kind of disaster that left all of its residents dead. The skykids aka the players are pretty much the only living people around right now, as they are the new residents of the kingdom and are tasked with carrying on the memories of the ancestor spirits. The skykids can't effectively die (and you'll see me refer to 'killing' with quotations bc you don't really die from those encounters) aside from in one specific point in the game, after which they get basically reincarnated (as cycles of death and rebirth are a major part of the game's themes).

3 - the floating diamond npc is the season guide for Season of Shattering, which ran from July-September 2022. It was an experimental season that didn't really have a questline or spirits and instead centered around the newly introduced shard events. As such, instead of a regular seasonal guide there was a floating red diamond titled 'the void of shattering'. It certainly was a Season.

4 - Season of Rememberance, which ran from January-April 2023, centered around a group of spirits living in an underground shelter in the vault of knowledge. All the spirits lost a loved one to the war and are seeking refuge in the shelter, and the player helps them by renovating the shelter to include things that'd bring them comfort. It's definitely one of the darker seasons concept-wise but the actual questline mostly centers around improving the shelter so it's not as dark as it sounds.

5 - here i was referring to the Trial of Fire, the last trial in the cave of prophecies. In it there's giant worm-like creatures that can steal your entire light, effectively 'killing' you and forcing you to retreat to the last checkpoint you lit up. The place with giant murder shrimp is Golden Wasteland, which has the dark dargons/krills which can also steal your light (tho not quite 'kill' you).

6 - the singer AURORA is, also, in fact there. Season of AURORA was a collab season between sky and the singer which ran from October 2022-January 2023. The quests in the season told the spirits' backstories and were all based on different aurora songs, with the final quest being a full on interactive concert within the game (which you can watch a playthrough of on TGC's youtube channel here:)

7 - that was the lie one! Though there are similar-looking areas in the game, such as the bird's nest area in Daylight Prairie, the Sanctuary Islands and the Wind Paths which all include floating islands, and Golden Wasteland and second-to-last level in Vault of Knowledge which include giant whale/manta skeletons. Looking back I probably should've picked something a bit less similar to preexisting areas because I saw some ppl confuse this one for one of the areas mentioned above.

8 - that is the plotline for the last quest for Season of Abyss, which ran during January-March 2022 and centered around a group of pirate spirits looking for treasure in the depths of the sea. Throughout the previous quests, one of the spirits grows jealous of the player because they always managed to find a lot of treasure for the crew, and so on the last quest said spirit searches for treasure in an incredibly deep area. When the crew starts worrying about them and sends the player to look for them, the player finds their passed out-body and then they both get swallowed by a terrifying many-eyed sea monster. Eventually the player manages to get the sea monster to open its mouth and release them both (as well as many other creatures it had swallowed over time).

9 - this is an easter egg/secret feature so if you haven't done it yet, i'd suggest you do so! (And stop reading here if you don't want any more spoilers regarding it). The specific grave through which you can summon the dog can be found in the area that you reach after doing the eight players puzzle in the villages area of Daylight Prairie. The dog itself is based on the game creator's dog, Oreo!

Sky fans please don't spoil the right answer in the tags

[jaskiersvalley]

Your safari au. Please. I need it. Water my crops with tigers and hyenas and witchers. Grabby hands and pleading faces in abundance here.

You are after my heart, Nonnie. And considering I've only talked about the Safari AU on Novigrad, I will happily assume you're lurking on there and I love you for it. Tweaked a little to add in a hyena just for you.

Lions and Tigers and Bears

Taking over a park was no easy feat, especially not when it came with a reputation like Nilfgaard had. Eskel scratched his head as he poured over the various financial reports, wondering just how much of it could be trusted. The problem was Nilfgaard had been a shining beacon in the animal conservation world, exceptional facilities, high enrichment for the animals and a successful rehabilitation rate. If there was ever an animal in need of a place, Nilfgaard had been first choice for years. All that came tumbling down in light of the revelation that Nilfgaard had been trading illegally, their animals sold to private owners as exotic pets or, even worse, hunters who wanted a guaranteed, easy kill. The place had been shut down immediately, a skeleton crew kept on to tend to the animals but nothing more. Management was on trial and Kaer Morhen had won the bid to take over. Though small and mostly unknown, nobody else had wanted to touch the remnants of Nilfgaard so they were quite uncontested in their bid. What had seemed like a good idea at the time, an noble because it was in the interest of the animals, now was an absolute headache.

Between the three of them, Geralt, Eskel and Lambert could split most of the urgent work. They had Jaskier working on rebranding, Yennefer managing the board and Vesemir as the head. It left them free to run the day to day of the park, learning the animals as well as the people who they had kept on. But they were going to need more people to actually help the place flourish and regain its standing in the community. Which meant asking the heads of departments for who should be kept on and what roles to recruit for from scratch. The easy ones were things like hospitality, Zoltan had a firm grip on the needs of the park and its visitors, knew all the catering firms and how to run a tight ship. So it was one less headache for them. Eredin had stepped up as Head of Security readily once it was proven he had no knowledge of the animal smuggling. Again, his familiarity with the park was a boon, as were his connections, putting together a security team that could be trusted. Much more messy was the animal welfare section. Fringilla, much like Eredin, had stepped up to become interim Head Zookeeper and was doing her best. While they were understaffed, Geralt, Eskel and Lambert helped out where they could but much of their time was spent getting to know the routine of the park and its many animals.

"We need to know who we can trust," Lambert grumbled, leaning over the table where they had personnel files open. "It's impossible to know who was in on things and who wasn't."

Though, in all likelihood, none of the lower level workers knew that when they helped usher one of their beloved animals into a crate, they weren't sending them off to another facility or a happily ever after. But it was something they just couldn't risk.

"May I?" Fringilla asked, eyes roving over all the files. At Geralt's gesture, she began pulling some of them out. "You'll want Triss, she was a vet here, promote her to senior or chief or whatever you call it. She's solid. And Sabrina, she's great, works well with Triss. Retain Istredd, Mousesack, Calanthe and Eist too. oh, and Letho for the reptile house." As she spoke, she kept looking with a small frown.

"Missing someone?" Eskel asked. Nodding, Fringilla frowned. Without much care for manners, she walked to the cupboards and began pulling out files until she hit the folder of resignations and terminations. From there, she pulled out one last file.

"You'll want him."

The folder was taken from her and the three peered at it with varying levels of frowns.

"You want us to hire someone who was terminated for gross misconduct? Whose notes suggest he abused animals and has blacklisted from working with animals?"

"No. I want you to meet the whistle-blower. Cahir's the one who found out about the trafficking and reported it. Nilfgaard didn't take kindly to it and retaliated."

Not sold on the idea, Lambert crossed his arms over his chest. "His file doesn't look exceptional. Personally, if he applied for a job, I'm not sure he shines enough to even be called in for an interview."

It was a sentiment echoed by the other two and Fringilla had to fight to hold back a sneer. "Invite him in and judge for yourselves. Just because his record doesn't have a quantifiable or gradable measure of commitment doesn't mean he won't be fantastic. If we ever have a new animal in that doesn't need to stay hospitalised, I wouldn't want anyone but Cahir to help settle it in. Especially the younger ones and babies."

Against their better judgement, the three decided to follow Fringilla's advice and e-mailed Cahir an interview offer. The reply was terse but assured them that he would be there at the agreed time.

First impressions were, to put gently, not great. Cahir looked rumpled, bags under his eyes and his attitude was rather sullen. It didn't bode well as they sat in the office, Cahir an odd mix of defiant and subservient. At least Fringilla had the grace to push the interview forward as much as she could until even she sighed and leaned back.

"Why don't we walk through some of the enclosures? Make sure you still remember what's where."

As they walked, Eskel ended up next to Cahir, who seemed content to not talk. That didn't stop Eskel from trying to initiate conversation.

"So, what have you been doing in the three months since you left here?"

"Tried to survive."

The blunt answer had Eskel blinking, there were many things he expected but not that. "Oh?"

For the first time Cahir actually looked at him, sadness bleeding through his half glare. "I used to live on site, worked for Nilfgaard from the age of 15, took a full time post at 18 and moved into the small cottage in the southern corner of the land. They fired me, I lost everything."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them as Eskel tried to figure out just how much of Cahir's so story was an exaggeration. "Have you been living with friends then?"

"For a few weeks, yeah." Cahir actually scoffed. "I've been trying to get a job and living in a hostel off savings. Turns out, only having in-house qualifications does not bode well for prospects in the world at large."

Fringilla led them into an enclosure where the grass was high. From the looks and smells, Eskel would have guessed it was a tiger's habitat but he wasn't familiar enough with the park yet to know. He would have hesitated going in, especially in a group like they were but Eskel had to trust Fringilla as she came to a stop and they stood in a loose circle.

The house Cahir had mentioned was one Eskel was familiar with. They had often wondered why it was empty yet well kept. It had felt like a life interrupted when they had a look round, nothing personal there yet it didn't have the empty, unlived-in feel of a show home. In a way, Eskel was regretting just how poorly Cahir's interview was going because he could easily see them offering his house back as part of a contract.

"So why are we here?" Lambert's words broke Eskel's reverie. "I thought we wanted to go on a walk."

It was by pure chance that Eskel caught Fringilla's smirk at Cahir and the slightest softening of that stern expression in return. Clicking his tongue, Cahir shot Lambert a look. "Tell me, have you ever been stalked by a tiger before?"

"No."

"You sure about that?" Cahir clicked his tongue twice and the world burst into motion. From the long grass a tiger pounced and Eskel was not ashamed to admit he let out a surprised yell. He wasn't the only one though, Lambert gasping, hand at his mouth and shoulders up as the tiger took Cahir out. They went tumbling and only Geralt looked like he might lurch into action, taking half a step towards the animal and Cahir. It would have been hopeless though, the two were wrestling on the ground until Cahir was on his back, tiger hunched above him.

The first thing Eskel noticed was how Cahir's face was creased into a happy grin. He looked younger, relaxed and happy ever as the tiger licked a large stripe from jaw, up his chin to his hairline. All Cahir did was laugh.

"Yes, yes, I missed you too, Princess," he said. fingers loosened from the fur in the tiger's neck and petted along her nose with the ease of familiarity.

"What the actual fuck?!" Lambert all but screeched. "What the fuckity fucking fuck?"

Eskel had the sense to look to Fringilla for answers, even if he wanted to watch Cahir with the tiger. The change in the man wasn't something he could have predicted. Gone was the sullen, defensive and standoffish air, replaced by an easy smile and a look of serene happiness as Cahir looked at the tiger, checking her over out of habit, muttering about dirty ears and mucky paws as he went.

"That is what you won't ever learn from a CV and qualifications," Fringilla said. She was absolutely looking smug. "Princess came to us at 9 months old, from a circus. Had terrible separation anxiety and a host of other issues too. She wasn't doing well despite our best efforts. At least, not until Cahir took her home and cared for her during the nights rather than leave her in a hospital cage. He introduced her to independence, slept out in the open with her for a few weeks when she was ready to transition to outdoors." Much more quietly, she added, "She's not the only animal he'd done that for. To find out some of his beloved children have been sold hit him hard. I don't think I'd ever seen him cry before then."

Turning back, Eskel watched as Cahir was sat on the ground, tiger with her back to him. The slightly strained "oh no you don't" from Cahir was lost as the tiger pushed up onto her hind legs and flopped backwards. Had she been smaller, Cahir would have probably caught her like a baby. As it was, he grunted as the weight crashed across his legs and he had a happily chuffing tiger's belly to tickle.

"I assume you'd vouch for him?" Geralt asked.

"In a heartbeat." Fringilla grinned at Cahir but it was lost on him, so focused on Princess as he was. The others might as well have stopped existing. That was the moment Eskel knew his heart was in danger. It didn't get easier as time went on. Hiring Cahir was proving to be a good decision. He just got on with the work, never finding anything distasteful or below him to do. If it needed doing, he got it done.

Over time he opened up too, Eskel found himself wandering down to the southern corner of the park to the little house that was now full of life. He got used to Cahir usually having a baby or two in his care. Sometimes he babysat for Letho's hatchlings, content to have baby snakes trying to look around his arms as they learned how to cope with being handled. The friendship between the two was one Eskel couldn't claim to understand but they seemed to make it work.

"Knock knock," he announced himself by the open back door.

"Come on in," Cahir called as he wandered out of the kitchen. "I'm just finishing making dinner, care to join me?"

That was new too, Cahir was inviting Eskel into his life more and more. It made Eskel feel even better about what he was planning to ask at Fringilla's instructions.

"I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow. There's a new arrival that we think will need your assistance."

Cahir cocked an eyebrow and held up an empty plate in question again. At Eskel's nod he began loading. "Anything you can tell me about it?"

"Not much. Private collector got raided, had a few animals in his less than tender care."

"So they'll be part socialised, part traumatised. I can work with that."

Somehow, Eskel had no doubts about that. But he was holding back some information because Fringilla had told him to keep it a surprise. The next morning the transport van rolled in, a small group of them ready to handle the newest arrivals. There were a couple of pythons for Letho to bring into his fold, a parrot for Guxart to train into swearing. Last was a large crate. As interesting as it was, Eskel's eyes were on Cahir, the way his nostrils flared as he caught scent of the hyena. The box opened and the animal cautiously peered out.

"Dave!" Cahir exclaimed, all semblance of quiet professionalism gone as he hopped off the top of the crate he'd helped open.

If his reaction had been exuberant, it was nothing compared to the hyena's. They collided next to the box, all over each other.

"I missed you buddy." There were tears running down Cahir's cheeks as Dave alternated between butting into him and running tight, excited circles around him before settling down and trying to bodily press into him. Glancing up, Cahir gave Fringilla a wobbly smile. "How did you find her?"

Her? Last Eskel checked, Dave was a male name. Still, he wasn't going to interrupt the tender reunion with such a dumb question.

"She was part of a collector's hoard. Didn't have the right permits so he was made to give her up to those who could offer her proper care."

A broken "thank you" was whispered in her direction before Cahir buried his face in the hyena's neck. Eskel watched with so many questions. Thankfully Fringilla didn't miss that fact.

"She was born in captivity, originally assumed to be a boy, needed to be hand reared after mum rejected her. She never understood that she wasn't human and as a result has spent most of her life living with Cahir. We've tried so often to introduce her to a pack but she never took to them, content to stay with them for a day, two at a push before she starts pining. When Nilfgaard sold her, that's when Cahir got suspicious, did some digging and realised she hadn't gone to another park. So Dave is a catalyst for this whole fiasco if you will."

Watching them, Eskel nodded. He had a hyena to befriend if he wanted to keep Cahir in his life it would seem.

[recapcrew]

Week 12 Transcript

Intro

Extra extra, read all about it! Welcome to the Empire’s Recap, and today we will be going over the chaos and drama of our (somewhat) respected rulers!

This week, news from the Recap Crew has come in saying even though this episode is short - sorry, Joel - due to the number of uploads, we did our best to make this week very pog. And I am contractually obligated to say that. Let’s get to the madness!

Joey

[JOEY] Today I want to possibly expand on this area, maybe move my cows that are a little overinfested - sorry guys, these living conditions are just not ideal for you, you’re literally in a pit. Yeah, please do not call PETA on me guys, I swear I will get them in a better situation.

[NARRATOR] Sorry cows, but pirates always have priorities, and the crew comes first!

Joey finally remembers the map he found in the Skull Fort, with directions to another of his missing crewmates, and sets to sea for a rescue mission.

He runs into an unusually talkative “skeleton” in the middle of a typhoon, and a few shots set that “skeleton’s” boat a-sinking. Shame Joey forgot to grill him for directions to the crewmate first, but there was just something weird about that guy.

In a cage floating just atop the water, Gator the Armorsmith has never been happier to see his captain. Pirate Joe paddles them home, speeding up as they pass Sanctuary. Stupid Sausage and his stupidly beautiful builds.

[JOEY] Don’t go over there, yeah, keep looking this way because… you will be, uh, disappointed when you see the forgotten cove if you keep looking that way, so, good job Gator you know what's good for you!

[NARRATOR] With Sir Piggles “out on a very important journey”, Joey puts Gator in the fish shop until he can gather all the materials to build him a proper home - a lighthouse to keep the ships in Forgotten Cove safe. The lanterns to light it come from Pirate Parrot Pete himself, after Pirate Joe gives him a good dressing down for drinking on duty. He’s not fond of shirkers.

Inside the lighthouse, Joey takes advantage of the lack of fire tick to make a lava-fueled forge for Gator to work with, once he can finally get him to stay inside. Moving villagers is the same as ever, even if they’re pirates.

Joey terraforms the path leading and around the lighthouse, connecting it to his storage room and finally freeing the cows from the pit. He lures a few of them back into a fenced area near his sheep, but the rest of the herd is allowed to graze on the hill for aesthetic. De-cow-ration, if you will.

[EDITOR, DEADPAN] Boo. Bad joke, get off the stage.

[NARRATOR] A quick check-in on paper production shows that Joey has built a second wing of the sugar cane farm, for once pages - and rockets - start flying off the shelves.

Now if only Jimmy could get his act together, so they can get in business!

Jimmy

The Sheriff isn’t very happy with deputy fWhip this week, for several reasons! Before the America trip, fWhip and many other server members came by on stream and ended up locking Jimmy in his own jail and spawn killing him - now, it wasn’t canon, but it WAS disrespectful! And now, there’s a warden in his base!

Looks like the deputy is getting fired!

Discovery of The Claw is next, and the Sheriff is tired of the disrespect! He needs some people who will support him, and what better way to do that then to bring in some residents for Tumble Town.

With the villager operations underway, Jimmy returns to the heart of Tumble Town and findsa “totally legit business” selling terracotta!

He arrives at the coordinates listed and finds the workings of some Tumble Town bandits hidden in a cave. There’s only one solution for this!

[JIMMY] Bon voyage Tumble Town bandits!

[JIMMY, FRUSTRATED] …Come on!

Take 3, double the explosion, bon voyage Tumble Town bandits. Go.

[JIMMY] --blowing up everything! This ought to do it! Bye bandits!

[NARRATOR] Bon voyage Tumble Town bandits, take 4. The area is pretty nice though, and their idea for a terracotta business is a good one…

There isn’t any Boss in Tumble Town except the Sheriff. He takes down the signs and declares he has taken over the business. He’ll have to redesign the balloon though, it doesn’t agree with the style of Tumble Town - it needs to pop with colour!

Shelby

Great witch Shelby is working on her magical protections for this week - she works on creating a pond full of amethyst shards and tropical fish to hopefully keep away ghosts while looking very pretty!

Although we don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, it is suspicious that when she gets back from collecting some more amethyst that her pond is entirely done, with no sign of the perpetrator!

[SHELBY] Cave pickles are not to be used for dye due to threat of war…

gasp a goat screeches

[NARRATOR] She overpays for some pickles from the Gobland pickle cart and explores deeper into the fog behind her house where apparently a forest spirit resides!

She hasn’t explored deep enough to know if forest spirits are a common occurrence in the Evermoore, but she certainly doesn’t like the implication that it is staring at her house, no matter the intentions!

The underground of the Evermoore is just as scary as the above ground, and Shelby doesn’t want to traverse it alone. Sausage agrees to accompany her and she shows him her new scythe to reap monsters in undiscovered caves and mangrove trees. They find a lush cave where Shelby picks up an axolotl, some spore blossoms, and an affinity for lying.

[SHELBY] sighs dreamily Yeah, her muscles inspire me…

[SHELBY] Maybe one day she'll let me watch her work out.

[SAUSAGE] -yeah, yeah, Joey’s like, in love with Katherine, mhm!

[SHELBY] gasp But-- [SAUSAGE] He says they’re gonna get married! You better put a stop to that!

[SHELBY] splutters wh-what does she think about that?

[SAUSAGE] I dunno, I think at first she was like ‘eww’ and a little bit of puke came out whenever he mentioned it- [SHELBY] phew

[SAUSAGE] But you never know! Maybe over time one thing leads to another and she's like ‘You know what, nobody else is coming after these muscles, maybe, y’know!

[NARRATOR] She seems a little flustered over Cursed Princess Katherine Elizabeth, and I can’t wait to see her battle Joey for the hand of the princess.

[SHELBY] I have to make a plan. I have to make a plan [SAUSAGE] –before it’s too late, she’ll be a married woman, y’know.

[SHELBY] I’m stronger than Joey!

[SHELBY] Maybe I have to duel him for her heart.

[SAUSAGE] Oh yeah be careful he has a gun. Well I have a wand!

[NARRATOR] Sausage has quite the accurate Joey impression. She’s pleased with her adventure and her new scythe - you’ve got to have good defenses with witches and the law on your tail.

One idea is to pretend to have been bested by the dangers of the Evermoore. They put her there, it would be convenient if she “mysteriously disappeared” if they visit.

Although… Her grandma would think she disappeared too. Shelby’s not sure how to contact her just yet without the academy finding out. Or what the end goal is with this hiding business.

[SHELBY] Everything’s going to be fine, right?

Joel

[NARRATOR] Doing Lore is Joel’s specialty, being the god of it and all - this week Joel returns from his trip to fWhip’s wedding and finds Joey has left him the Stratosphere gold. Naturally, it blows up - you can never trust a pirate!

You can never trust a fWhip, either, seeing as he left a warden in the Stratosphere bridge for Joel to fight. He digs inside and gets into a bowfight with the warden, though he's the only one with a bow. Fortunately, he only dies once to the warden in the bridge because he is big and tall and strong... etcetera.

[JOEL] –and some deep (x10) Lore! Which I promise you I’m definitely not making up as I go along.

[NARRATOR] The material gathering montage this week includes wedding highlights and pictures of fWhip’s dogs.

He is building a temple off the Stratosphere bridge with some warmer colors than the usual palette for Stratos. The lore is: Joel wasn't the only god, not that he can remember who the other gods were but anyway. The other gods are dead, and Joel and his humor remain in Stratos alone.

According to ‘Canon Deep Lore’, God Joel has a bit of a bad memory, but can remember the exact height of this farming god and not their name? Curious.

Hermes is back in Stratos with a gift from Sausage! This week’s gift is a custom designed axe, so Joel can think of him when chopping wood. In return, Joel brings Hermes back to Sanctuary with a mini stratosphere to remind him of Joel.

Sausage

Sanctuary was made to help everyone who came across their lands, including the warden in the present box right outside Sausage’s storage room. He made sure to rescue the spider axolotls before working to build the warden a new home with them in Sanctuary - he enlists the magic of Sanctuary to help him make a pretty cave for his new warden friend to stay in.

For the safety of the warden, Sausage brings Bubbles into the banner shop - she is fond of eating wardens whole, so she’ll be a good protector of banner boy in case the warden escapes - ironic that, a warden escaping.

The magic came through and made a beautiful mix of Sanctuary and the Deep Dark to help the warden feel at home. Now all that needs to happen is to get the warden into the cave.

Phase 1 is to make a couple noise machines to bring the warden to the correct area, but it goes wrong before he even breaks the first block as a creeper blows him up and then the warden shoots him. Twice.

The warden gets distracted by the first noise machine - Lucky, too, as Sausage has to fight a barrage of pillagers right next door.

He gets the warden trapped in the cave with the noise machines, and it’s distracted enough that the risk of being sonic boomed is considerably lower!

Now, Shelby needs some help on an adventure, and who better to help then the man who just transported a warden!

[SAUSAGE] --put stuff away, uh, before I, uh, strip anything else. I'm gonna start a stripper business soon!

[SHELBY] ...I'm sorry what?

[SAUSAGE] A strip- a stripper business! I strip wood for people!

[SHELBY] Right. Strip- strip-er. Strip- stripping wood.

[SAUSAGE] Stripper, yeah, a stripper of wood business.

[SHELBY] You strip wood which makes you- you're the stripper.

[SAUSAGE] Yeah!

[SHELBY] A wood stripper.

[SAUSAGE] Yeah, a wood stripper, that's the, y'know, job title, y'know, whatever.

[SHELBY] You are the wood guy.

[SAUSAGE] Yeah, I'm the wood guy, the stripper... of wood! Of wood!

[SHELBY] And the stripper! Of wood.

[SAUSAGE] Of wood. I'm gonna-

[SHELBY] Stripper with an asterisk, which means of wood.

[SAUSAGE] Yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm gonna let everyone know about this, I'm gonna hand out flyers of my stripping business, it's gonna be fantastic.

[NARRATOR] He arrives at Shelby's house in enough time for her to present her new magical weapons to him before the caving adventure begins! He keeps mentally hearing warden sounds, and they talk about Bubbles and traveling inter-dimensionally - Sausage makes sure to mention that technically that potion he drank last time let him travel into the past. It's not inter-dimensional, but time travel is pretty cool!

Sausagey the wingman comes out in full force at the end of their trip - Nature Wives, anyone? - but Shelby better be careful, Joey is going to fight for Katherine's affection!

Back in Sanctuary, Sausage celebrates having no visions today - oh no, wait, no he’s jinxed it. He goes to sleep and appears in a strange summoning circle. Voices speak inaudible words. You might recognize this place … dot dot dot…

Outro

And with that join us next week for more chaos and shenanigans! Thank you for watching, liking, and subscribing, and thanks to everyone helping with the project, check them all out below!

[britcision]

Guys, once again

It’s running on a skeleton crew because they’re going to be focused on maintenance, not innovation

They’re going to stop building and putting out new features and just keep the site running; this involves deadass 70-80% less people than new development

You know, the thing we have been asking them to do forever

It’s a problem for products and other businesses because they need a consistent push of fresh offerings to maintain relevance, and are seeking to make money from those new features

Tumblr doesn’t make money. We’ve proved this. So they’re taking the teams doing things like making Tumblr Live, and sending them to other departments, where they can be called back if needed because no one is being fired

They’re… leaving us to rot in our own juices, basically, and probably will not make many new or significant changes beyond keeping it running

And, if there are sudden and climactic changes in how browsers and mobile devices and so on work, yeah, they may respond to bugs and such slower

Because they have been lightning fast to this point

If you haven't heard, tumblr will be run by a skeleton crew, which normally signals the slow or fast descent of businesses/products. This has not been confirmed by staff as of posting this (its good to at least be prepared than be blindsided) please back up your blogs and exchange contact info with your mutuals.