#GS-3

[collinthenychudson]

New Year’s Eve, the last day of the year. As we all know, it is the holiday when people get together with families and friends, share resolutions, and light fireworks to bring in the new year. But 80 years ago, this would not be the case out on the Great Salt Lake in Utah for a deadly train crash took place on that day.

In the early morning hours of New Year’s Eve December 31st 1944, two trains operating as No. 21, the Westbound Pacific Limited, were preparing to proceed onward to San Francisco with the First 21, the 18-car passenger train, running ahead of the Second 21, the 20-car mail-express train. The Pacific Limited normally ran as a long singular train but it was split in two on this occasion. The First 21 was being pulled by Southern Pacific 4425, a GS-3 Class 4-8-4 “Northern” Type locomotive, while the Second 21 was being pulled by Southern Pacific 4361, an MT-4 class 4-8-2 “Mountain” Type locomotive. Running 38 minutes late, the First 21 departed from Ogden, Utah at 4:38 AM while the second 21 departed at 4:50 AM 12 minutes later.

Things wouldn’t go according to plan however because 17 miles west of Ogden at Bagley along the Lucin Cutoff, a stalled freight train was dealing with a hotbox which would force the two trains to slow down and come to a stop. The First 21 would slow down to 8 mph until stopping when the flagman of the freight train would give the signal. Meanwhile, the Second 21 was speeding at 50 mph in hopes of making up for lost time.

Although engineer James Mcdonald of the Second 21 applied the brakes upon noticing the First 21, it was too late. At 5:14 AM, the Second 21 slammed into the back of the First 21. The last several cars of the First 21 were telescoped into each other while the first few cars of the Second 21 piled into No. 4361 crushing the locomotive’s tender with some sliding into the water and mud.

48 people had died while 81 people were injured with 2 more later dying in the hospital thus bumping the death toll up to 50. Among those who had died were 35 military personnel that were returning home after serving in the Second World War, the death toll also included James McDonald and the flagman of the First 21. Two military hospital cars of the First 21 would be used to take care of the injured passengers until rescue trains from Ogden would arrive at the scene.

During the investigation, it was revealed that the main cause of the wreck was failure to properly control the speed of the Second 21 in accordance with signal indications. While the engineer did apply the brakes, it was said that he “died” due to sudden shock or heart failure. Another factor that caused this wreck was heavy fog which resulted in the fireman of the Second 21 to miss the first stop signal before seeing the second stop signal.

Those who were injured were taken to nearby hospitals such as the Bushnell General Military Hospital in Brigham City. Although there is currently no further information regarding what happened to No. 4361 after the wreck, the locomotive alongside the last few cars of the First 21 and the first few cars of the Second 21 were probably scrapped due to being severely damaged. As for No. 4425, the locomotive was left unharmed and would continue to serve the Southern Pacific until being retired on May 14th, 1956 and later scrapped on July 13th of that year in Los Angeles. None of the 14 GS-3s nor any of the railroad’s 4-8-2s were set aside for preservation when the Southern Pacific ended revenue steam operations in January 1957, although a driving wheel from No. 4422 was salvaged and is at the Railgaints Train Museum in Pomona, California.

The Pacific Limited would continue to run until October 1st, 1947. As for the Southern Pacific, it would continue to use the Lucin Cutoff until 1996 when the railroad became part of the Union Pacific whose trains still continue to use the Lucin Cutoff to this day. It has been 80 years since this wreck occurred and it still holds the title of being Utah’s worst train wreck but rear-end collisions between trains still unfortunately have occurred over the following years and of course before then.

This was made in honor of those who lost their lives and survived this train wreck, I wish you all a Happy New Year.

Models and Route by: Trainz-Forge, K&L Trainz, Jointed Rail, Auran, and Download Station

[luna-shadowbunny]

Please include him 🗣️💥

[Reference under cut!!]

[goldenshrikecomic]

I was asked how I make my characters fit the background with such minimal shading, and here's how I do it!

Starting point is just background + the base colors

Add a multiply layer on top of the characters. The color is usually eyedropped from the background, but just as often I just play with the hue/saturation/brightness slider. This layer usually has either high transparency or brightness so it doesn't become overpowering, especially if the background is light.

Airbrush the background colors lightly on top of some parts of the characters, usually the outer edges and the parts that should be in shade. I do this willy-nilly with a big brush.

Add color dodge as the last thing, and let it affect both characters and the background.

There's thousand other ways out there, this is just how I've done it!

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

good night and sweet dreams to the best, sexiest, sluttiest, smartest, realest, most based, valid, relatable, girlipop, sympathetic, cunt, fun, cool, feminist, aspirational girlboss character in dead boy detectives: doll spider <3

good night to her and no one else. i hope the rest of y’all have a bad night and terrible dreams.

[thrutheinferno]

happy birthday to my dear friend @venomnipx and our charmac AU we have together !!!!!

[inkieflame]

now i; the lil angst goblin in your replys haz gotta know; what did the watchers do to scott after he failed to pass the sticker that resulted in him immitily getting skizz next time 👀

I’ll be worth more (Than all the silence left in my wake)

A Scott oneshot

Word count: 1500

Trigger warnings: psychological torture, detailed descriptions of sounds (may upset readers with misophonia or other sound-sensitive conditions)

Scott knew this was coming.

You can’t get away free. You can’t do things like this without punishment. We must make an example of you. We must make an example of you.

So Scott knew that Cleo and Pearl were on the other side of the camera when he entered the room. He has eyes on him, watching to see what he would do, waiting to see what would be done to him.

The room is bare.

No operating table, no other Watchers, no psychological experiment that he could see. It was just empty. Just a ten-by-ten, bleach white room, with one camera in the top right corner.

Scott turns to the Watchers who led him here, “What-” he starts, but the door is shut on him.

He is alone.

Scott frowns, “weird.” He turns to the camera with a little wave and a smile, “Hey there.”

The camera gives no indication that anyone heard him. He sighs, and glances around the room, as though he might have missed something. But the room is just a bare as before.

Then he hears a click, like a microphone turning on.

“Uh, hey Scott.” Scar’s voice comes over the speakers, “welcome to the Quiet Room.”

Scott turns back to the camera, thinking that it’s probably polite to look at someone when they speak to you. Even if he couldn’t see Scar. Even if Scar was probably only pulled into doing this by the Watchers, as they train him for social work.

“There are a couple of rules here.” Scar continues. HIs voice is tight, and Scott wonders if he’s nervous. “First, after the first thirty minutes, you can leave whenever you want. The door will be unlocked. You can also stay longer if you’d like.”

Scott must have looked confused, because Scar hurries to continue.

“And! And you’ll want to stay because you’ll um. You’ll.” The speaker is muffled, and Scott can hear him conversing with someone distantly. “Every extra ten minutes you stay, you or someone of your choice can opted out of a rental. Or experiment. Uh, yeah.”

Oh. Well that was certainly an incentive. He could use it to get Jimmy out of a rental. That would be amazing.

“Rule two.” Scar says, “You must remain silent in the Quiet Room. It’s called the Quiet Room for a reason.” Scar let’s out a laugh, which he is audibly reprimanded for. He clears is throat, “uh. Failure to remain quiet will result in disqualification and further punishment.”

Scott frowns. He wonders what further punishment would be. This didn’t seem like much of a punishment at all, just a bit of quiet time alone.

“And rule three!” Scar concludes, “If, at any point, you feel increased anxiety, cerebral pressure, sudden dizziness, hear noises with no origin, or hear noises from your internal organs, please know that this is expected. This is good. Your time will not be alleviated due to these symptoms.”

There is a pause.

“Enjoy your time in the Quiet Room.” Scar says quickly, and the speakers click off.

Scott takes another long look around the room. Four white walls surround him. There is nothing to do, so he lets out a small sigh and sits down against one of the walls.

The first few minutes are fine. Boring, but fine. It’s just a little bit of alone time. He can do this. It’s easy.

And he could do an extra ten for Jimmy, and another ten for Pearl or Cleo. He wonders how long they would let him stay. Could he stay for hours? How many rentals could he prevent?

The silence begins to stretch.

Scott swears he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. Maybe he’s nervous. Maybe it’s just the room, messing with him.

This is expected, Scar had said. This is good.

He swallows nervously, trying to ignore the drumming. He can hear the way his throat works.

Anxiety is normal. Scar said anxiety is normal. He isn’t sure what the room is doing to him, but it’s uncomfortable. There is a pressure in his ears.

He tries to focus on his breathing. In and out, trying to calm himself. There’s no reason for his heart to beat so fast. In and out. Breathe.

He flinches at the sound. It’s wet and wheezing and sick.

Scott hates the sound of his breathing. It reminds him of how little he’s eaten this week. The rush of air, in and out. The way his ribs groan weakly as they rise and fall. The dripping in the back of his mouth.

It's fine. It’s fine!

It’s just silence, he’s fine.

Time crawls, or maybe it just walks, or maybe it sprints and gallops along, racing to get to the end. Scott can’t tell. He just sits against the wall, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, and his breathing, and the way his empty stomach turns, and the way his joints grind when he moves. He wishes he could break the silence, he aches and he aches.

Scott doesn’t know how long has passed. He feels like hours, and days, and it feels like a few minutes.

Footsteps cut across the silence, and Scott flinches upwards. He looks at the door. The footsteps pace around him, from nowhere specific, and then they vanish as soon as they came.

Did the Watchers unlock the door?

Scott gets to his feet, wincing at the sound off all his bones moving and grinding. He grabs doorknob, and hesitates.

He wants to wait, to save someone from their punishments. So he sits down again, back against the door, and he waits some more.

The footsteps come back, briefly, before fading again. Scott glances around, wondering if he imagined it.

He listens for it again.

He doesn’t move, he doesn’t breathe, he just listens.

Nothing.

But he can hear the way his blood moves in his veins, heart thumping and squishing wetly in his chest.

If, at any point, you feel increased anxiety, Scar has said. Cerebral pressure, sudden dizziness, hear noises with no origin, or hear noises from your internal organs, please know that this is expected. This is good.

This is expected, this is good.

And time keeps going, and keeps going and going.

Scott presses his fingers to the cold floor, trying to distract himself. Everything is so loud. He thinks he might be insane for thinking it.

It looks up at the camera. People watch him. Pearl and Cleo, and maybe others. Maybe Jimmy, maybe Martyn or Grian. He wonders if they know what the room is doing to him. He wonders if they are watching him lose his grip on reality.

And time keeps going, minutes and hours and days and weeks. Time keeps going until Scott shatters apart, and he loses himself in those smooth white walls. Time keeps going until Scott is terrified that the pressure in his head might make him explode.

He can’t stand upright. He’s so awful, so dizzy, nothing is right. He groans under the strain.

How long has it been. How long, how long, how long, how long.

He grabs for the door handle, giving in. It’s too much. It’s too long. It’s too quiet. He can heard how his bones and muscles move when he squeezes the metal handle.

And he tries to turn it.

Stuck.

His heartbeat jumps. He swallows his panic, a sick, wet noise.

No, it. It can’t.

Scott pushes at the door again.

No. No, no, no, no. He can’t. This can’t. It’s been so long. So long, so long. And Scott can’t stand another moment of this sound.

Surely it’s been thirty minutes! It’s been ages! Hours at least, if not days and days and days of crushing, never-ending silence.

Scott falls back against the floor, dizzy and uncoordinated. The breath that escapes his lungs is terribly, terribly loud. He’s going to scream. He’s sure he would throw up if there was anything in his stomach.

He wraps his arms around himself, nails digging into his skin as he tries to distract himself from the noise.

And time keeps on.

…

Scott has the honor of receiving the first boogeyman sticker of the new SMP. The watchers slip it to him with a quick reminder of the last sticker they gave him.

He has not been quick to forget the incident.

The thirty agonizing minutes spent in the Quiet Room, and the days of recovery he spent afterwards. Even now, he swears everything is louder than it had been before. He has not forgotten the sound of his own heart pumping.

He had gotten to reward for it. He barely made it the full thirty minutes, he doubts he would have survived any longer.

And he is sure he will never defy the Watchers like that again, not as long as he’s in one of their labs.

So it is stuck on the first convenient person.

[beneathitall-thesame]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: He Tian/Mo Guanshan (19 Days), Jian Yi/Zhan Zhengxi (19 Days), Jian Yi & He Tian & Mo Guanshan & Zhan Zhengxi (19 Days) Summary:

Torn between the ache of the past and the comfort of the present, Guan Shan begins to realize that, perhaps, it's time to let himself move on.

[z0mbiew00d]

Christmas in the Scottage Base <3

[bitchslapblastoids]

well the years* start coming and they don’t stop coming and they don’t stop coming and they don’t stop coming…

*dan and phil content to try and keep abreast of in the fourth week of january ‘25

[0ddessy01]

Teehe

[bleakfortune]

frank w such bad jealously of the casual intimacy between g and mikey that it boils into a horrible paranoia abt them fucking to the point of actual mental breakdowns first thing in the morning over like them talking over cereal or something

[inkieflame]

I Need an Anchor (God, I Want to be Satisfied)

A Wild Life Etho fic, featuring the Gs :)

Content warnings: none

2000 words

Aka, Etho doesn't know his self worth, so he tries to prove himself to his new alliance. They assure him they care about him even if he is washed up

Author's note: this was supposed to contain Cletho and that never happened, oh well. Maybe another day

Etho isn’t running away.

He’s not abandoning anyone, he’s not betraying them or leaving them behind. He’s not doing any of that.

He’s just taking a quiet exit.

Because he might drown if he has to stay with Bdubs and Tango one more day. He thinks they can feel it too. Something is wrong with their alliance. Something is inherently broken.

They fight each other more than their enemies. They steal, they mock, and when one of them is injured they’re left to pick themselves up on their own.

It's just not how an alliance is meant to work.

And Etho needs out.

He picks through this chest, looking for whatever valuables he has left. Minimal iron and even fewer diamonds. He manages to scrape together some building supplies and food. Hopefully this will be enough. Hopefully, hopefully.

He doesn’t know what to expect. He wants to seem useful. He wants to be necessary to a team. Indispensable.

Because if he’s not, they might neglect him too, just like Tango and Bdubs. And gosh, it hurts to be neglected by people you love. Etho can’t take it anymore.

He ducks out of his tower, backpack full of supplies and his new beloved trident in hand. Distantly, he can hear Tango and Bdubs bickering about something. Etho avoids them, and makes his way through the woods to the other base.

The late summer sun falls through the leaves overhead, making him squint as he approaches the wheat fields and walled in building where his new friends live. He swallows, and then wanders to the gate. He can hear the soft chatter of people within the base. Etho’s heart swells with jealousy. They are so friendly with each other.

“Etho?” He sees Pearl lean over the top of the wall, “Hey, we can see you lurking how here.”

“Oh. Hi.” He says. “Can income inside?”

Pearl turns back to talk to someone behind her. Etho can hear Scott’s voice. She turns back to him, “Yeah, come up over the wall though. Scott says Impulse just trapped the gate.”

Etho nods once, relieved that he hadn’t let himself in only be blown to bits. He towers up and Pearl helps to pull him over the last bit of wall so he standing on top of the stone next to her.

She jumps from the wall and hurries back over to where Cleo, Scott and Impulse are chatting on the front porch of the building.

Etho lingers awkwardly behind her, dropping down and following.

“Hey guys, hi. I brought some supplies? I hope they’re enough.” He says. He turns to rifle through his backpack, pulling various things from his inventory. “I’ve got a bit of iron? Two diamonds if anyone needs a new sword. And some cooked cod if anyone needs food-“

He is cut off by Scott waving him over and gesturing for him to sit with them, “We’re all good on supplies right now.” Scott says, “But join us! I’ve been wondering when you’d be over.”

This makes Etho’s stomach churn uneasily. They don’t need anything he has to offer. He’s not giving anything, he’ll just be a drain on supplies here.

Okay, so fix it. You have a problem, analyze it and fix it.

He hovers near the group, not sitting down. His eyes dart around the group, trying to fit pieces together. What can he do?

Pearl is still wears some pieces of iron armor. So is Impulse.

“Etho?” Cleo echoes, “Aren’t you going to sit with us?”

Etho bites his lip. He can feel the Scar there underneath his teeth. “No, I, uh, I forgot some things at my base.” He lies. “I’ll be back.”

He ignores how Scott looks disappointed and how Cleo sighs when he turns away.

Etho doesn’t come back until he has enough diamonds to get both Pearl and Impulse a new piece of armor. He jumps the wall again, and then he drops down into the small walled in area.

Scott is the only one outside, tending patiently to the flowers around the building.

“Oh, Etho, there you are.” Scott turns to him, “We thought you’d left us!”

Scott laughs, but Etho can’t help but hear an accusation. Traitor.

He hurries to seem useful, to be a good teammate, “I went mining.” He blurts, “Got some diamonds so y’all can get some better armor.”

Scott stares at him blankly for a moment, confused. “That’s. That’s very kind of you. The others are inside if you want to say hi.”

Etho nods, “Of course.” He shuffles backwards, then turns and makes his way to the door.

Pearl and Cleo are inside, sitting around a small pool in the floor with a few axolotls swimming around it. Cleo is sitting on top of their storage chests, sprawled out over two of them. Pearl sits by the edge of the pool with her bare feet in the water and her boots laying next to her.

“Etho, hi!” Cleo smiles at him, “I was wondering if you’d drop by again.”

“Hi Cleo.” He turns to Pearl, “uh, I got you some diamonds. Make yourself some new armor?” He holds out half of the diamonds for her to take. “I also have some for Impulse.”

Pearl takes the diamonds, “Ooooh!” she turns them over in her hands admiringly, “Very nice!”

Cleo gives Etho a strange smile, “Don’t you need new armor too?”

He shakes his head, “I’m alright. I’d rather put my new team first, be a good teammate and all.”

Cleo’s smile turns to a frown, but she doesn’t say anything else.

When the sun goes down, Etho quietly dismisses himself to his old tower near Tango and Bdubs.

Bdubs is pacing the outside of his own tower, muttering to himself. When he sees Etho, he snaps to attention, “Hey! Where have you been all day?”

“Uh, just out.” Etho shrugs.

Bdubs fumes, clearly in a bad mood, “Likely story! We had that whole list of things to do today, remember? Nothing got done!”

Etho tilts his head, “Didn’t you work on it at all?”

“Well! I just! You!” Bdubs splutters, “Very freaking funny! You need to work on it too! I can’t be doing everything around here!”

Etho nods, “I’ll take a look at the list tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bdubs huffs, “Time to shreep.”

The next time Etho is with his new alliance, he is itching for something to do.

The five of them are all laying around outside, just enjoying the sunshine. Scott and Impulse sit in the grass together, while Pearl is perched in the pale oak tree that grows inside the walls. Cleo sits up on the edge of the wall, overlooking the group.

Etho sits a small distance from Scott and Impulse, watching Scott teach him how to weave a flower crown.

He can’t help but think how lazy this is. No one is doing anything productive. They just sit together, like they have forever. Like they’re not going to face their encroaching death soon.

They didn’t even have a to do list for Etho to check. If they did, he would be out, being productive. Instead he’s stuck nervously following around other members of the alliance hoping to help with whatever they’re doing.

But none of them are doing anything.

And Etho is failing to smoother this feeling of uselessness.

“Etho, are you alright?” Cleo asks suddenly.

Etho glances up at her, “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Scott shakes his head, “No, Cleo is right. You’re acting odd.”

“Uh, I guess I’m just a little antsy.” Etho shifts uncomfortably, “I was hoping to do something useful today.”

Cleo and Scott glance at each other. Etho wishes he knew what that look meant. And then they both look at Pearl, who nods, and he feels even more lost.

“You seem stressed, man.” Impulse says, “I think a day of rest would be good for you. Take a break.”

Etho sighs. Impulse get up from his spot near Scott and comes to sit by Etho.

“I don’t need a break.” Etho says, “I just want to be a good teammate.”

Because he needs this. He needs someone to tether him down when he can’t find a direction to go. He needs an anchor.

Scott scoots over until he’s seated on Etho’s other side, “Etho. You don’t need to be a good teammate.” He says, “We don’t care if you bring nothing to the table. You’re part of this group now, so you belong here no matter what.”

“But I still need to be productive.” Etho insists, “Otherwise, why am I on this team?” Scott hesitates to answer, and Etho panics, joking nervously, “It can’t be my irresistible charm?”

“Your pathetic wet-cat energy.” Cleo offers.

“Yeah yeah, that.” Etho’s says, “I’m washed up.”

Impulse sighs, “Man. We want to hang out with you even if you are washed up.”

Etho doesn’t believe him.

Etho makes it to the late afternoon before his restlessness gets the better of him, and he finds himself getting ready to go back to his tower. At least there he has something to do. He could work on Bdubs’ list, or try to finish his tower.

Scott watches him out of the corner of his eye as he makes his way back up the wall, and prepares to drop down.

“Etho.” He calls.

Etho hesitates, looking out at the forest beneath the wall. He turns back, “yup?”

Scott pulls himself up onto the wall next to him. He eyes the rest of the group, and drops his voice to a whisper.

“Stay?”

Etho frowns, “It’s getting late, I have work to do.”

Scott seems disappointed, “I know you wanted to keep this alliance on the down-low, but…” He doesn’t finish.

“Bdubs will be wondering where I am.” Etho says. It’s a lame excuse, but not untrue. “And I have to go home sometime. Get some rest like everyone has been saying.”

Scott sighs and steps back, “Alright.” He says. “But know you can stay here too, if you ever want. You’re always welcome here.”

When Etho gets home, to his own cold bed, alone in his copper tower, he can only stare at his ceiling. He knows that somewhere Scott and Pearl and Cleo and Impulse are all going to bed together. They will fall asleep to the sound of each other breathing.

Etho will fall asleep to the sound of Tango pacing next door, restless.

“I brought food.” Etho says next time, because despite the constant reassurances he can’t help but feel like an addiction to the team instead of a part of it.

He has to prove himself, he needs to deserve this.

The fish are cooked on an open fireplace, while the group sits around it, enjoying the fire and the food. The base smells like warm fish, and bread that Pearl made, and the herbal tea in Scott’s mug.

Etho smiles, watching them chatter.

He’s glad to have given them some sort of substance, and a moment of peace away from the start of next session tomorrow. He feels useful and needed.

He ignores how Bdubs blows up his communicator with messages about preparing for tomorrow. Etho will deal with him tomorrow. Today is for his alliance.

“Stay?” Scott asks again, as the sun comes down and after Bdubs is long asleep.

Etho thinks about his cold bed, and his copper tower, and Tango’s insomniac pacing. He thinks about all the yelling he’ll wake up to in the morning if he goes home, verses to prospect of bread and tea if he stays.

“yeah.” He says softly, “I’ll stay.”

Then he falls asleep that night curled in the bed between Cleo and Impulse, like maybe he was still at home with her in Secret Life, or with him in Limited Life. Nearby Scott and Pearl are breathing steadily, drifting into sleep.

And he can’t help but think he is the luckiest person here. Because he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but they want him here anyway.

Etho thinks he’s beginning to trust them. He knows they will be here, a firm constant in a ranging sea. Something to keep him grounded.

His anchor.

[beneathitall-thesame]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: He Tian/Mo Guanshan (19 Days) Summary:

“If you want something from me, all you have to do is ask,” He Tian says, his voice gliding effortlessly between cool confidence and quiet anticipation.

The sharp crack of ice cubes hitting the sides of the glass matches Mo’s ragged scoff.

“Yeah, right,” Mo bites back. “What if I asked you to get on your knees in front of me?”

[otaku-tactician]

they need to localise and port tokimeki memorial girl's side 1, 2, 3 AND 4 to worldwide international gamers outside of Asia.

PLEASE!!!!!

they are actually really good games. some of the love interests are really profound and moving characters, some are annoying assholes from hell, some are regular guys and some are really fun and cute.

PLEASE RELEASE IT ABROAD IM BEGGING YOU

[avadmortain]

vanessa’s mugshots <33

[hidengifs]

@Giftober 2023 Day 31: Free Day! ↳ Tsumuri | Kamen Rider Geats

Well done. The baby devil, if you would.