#Handheld Radio Battery

[craigstewartus1]

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[novella-november]

Just a PSA, Hurricane Helene is going to be passing through my area starting some time tomorrow, so I wanted to take a moment to remind anyone who is in this storm's path to make sure you have:

1) flashlights or other light sources that are not just your cell phone -- cheap solar lights work great in a pinch; to charge them, arrange them around indoor lamps to get the most light exposure, or put them in your sunniest window:

2) you should have food and drink that is stable at room temperature and does not require anything to prep, plus a can opener, in case of prolonged power outages.

3) keep important documents such as birth certificates, passports, etc all in a safe location that is preferably waterproof; a ziplock bag, or a locking food container will work in a pinch.

4) find which area of your house is the sturdiest, without windows, and make sure your household knows to go there in an emergency, which includes Tornadoes; for some, this is a basement, for others it is a bathroom located away from an exterior wall, and for us, its a small hallway in the center of the house. Try to put extra blankets, pillows, and other cushioning in this area in advance both for comfort of everyone crammed into a small area, and also for additional protection, since you can wrap yourself up in pillows and thick blankets in an emergency; if you've got small kids, try to make sure everyone has their favorite stuffed animal to hug.

5) make sure everyone's pajamas are clothes that are comfortable and good for wearing in public, and that everyone has closed toed shoes on hand that can be thrown on at a moments notice and that everyone knows to put them on ASAP when an emergency alert comes through.

6) make sure all phones are fully charged, and preferably that you have backup power banks; if possible, have an emergency handheld radio on hand to listen to broadcasts. If you need to use a phone to watch local news livestreams, have one member of the house use their phone to stream while everyone else preserves their battery.

7) make sure you have any essential medications on hand in a form that is easy to transport, and if you have pets, make sure you have food, pet carriers, and leashes/harnesses, etc!

Stay safe, everyone!

[clareguilty]

Ghost/Soap/Reader | Sex Pollen, Breeding kink

This fic was written for Kinktober 2024! Let me know what you think <3

Ghost/Soap/F!Reader | Sex Pollen, Breeding kink, strength kink, dacryphilia Rating: Explicit | WARNINGS: EXTREMELY DUBIOUS CONSENT Word Count: ~3400

The last thing you expected when you answered the knock on your office door was the sight of two uniformed soldiers, both broad enough to fill the entire doorway each, expressions grave. You ushered them inside your small, cluttered office tucked away in the biochemistry wing of the university building. Being the head of the pharmacology department did not come with a sprawling mahogany desk and glorious window views. You were lucky to have a desk and a window at all.

Still, you were the best in your field, and that had granted you tenure and funding to continue your research as well as a small team of graduate students and postdocs to boss around as you pleased.

One of the soldiers introduced himself as Captain Price, the other a corporal under his command. You cleared off space on your desk as the corporal opened a locked case and pulled out a laptop.

“Anything you are about to see is highly classified information,” the captain warned you. “Our intel pertains to ongoing operations to stop a dangerous organized terrorist group.”

You nodded along, but your focus was on the footage being played on the laptop. The drone shots and shaky handheld cameras, clips of lab workers handling samples while suited head to toe in protective equipment. There was footage of soldiers experiencing a variety of symptoms: aggression, paralysis, psychosis.

The corporal opened a file for you to scroll through. Pages and pages of reports.

“Biochemical weapons,” you murmured to yourself. “Inhalants?”

“Gas,” the captain confirmed. “Your security clearance is still in the system from your field work on that operation in Andorra. Our people are using your research as the blueprint.”

You were the leading expert on biochemical weaponry, much of your research was centered around synthesizing field antidotes. It had been a few years since you were last out in the field, taking samples from warzones and the sites of attacks.

“You need me out there?” You asked. But you already knew the answer. They wouldn’t be here in your office otherwise.

“You’ll be working with our top tactical operations team. The best men we’ve got. Whatever they’re making in these labs, we need to put a stop to it, and then we need to figure out how they’re doing it.”

You looked at the footage again - civilians this time - and felt your stomach turn at the sight.

“When’s the earliest we can leave?” You asked, closing the laptop to hide the horrifying images.

-

The body armor on your last field operation had been simple: a bullet proof vest with a mask and helmet. You had worn your civilian clothes and brought along everything else yourself.

“Alright, Dove, arms up,” the special forces sergeant, Soap, grinned as he dropped a heavy vest over your head. You dutifully raised your arms so he could fasten the tangle of buckles until you were secured.

“Thanks,” you glanced down at the overwhelming amount of gear that was now covering your front.

“You’ve got your radio,” he tapped the top left pocket, “Compass, shears, three mags of extra ammunition, scopes, batteries, and torch.” You watched him point out each item. “On your belt here you’ve got your pistol, knife, and canteen.”

Soap put his own gear on much faster than it had taken to kit you out. He carried even more equipment, but he somehow made it look easier.

You had been staying at the temporary base with Captain Price’s 141 task force for days now. Without access to quality lab equipment, you were working tirelessly to find answers about the biochemical weaponry using whatever was available. As impressive as your makeshift setup was, it wasn’t near precise or thorough enough to save lives.

It felt a little ridiculous. A researcher surrounded by a bunch of special forces giants. They were welcoming and friendly - except for the terrifying lieutenant with the skull mask, but you knew you were out of your depth surrounded by cases full of rifles and grenades. Sleeping on a cot and eating rations cooked off a gas burner.

Captain Price had done whatever he could to make you more comfortable. The encampment was a few secured buildings and several large tents. And while you were accustomed to the conditions after your previous field research, they had afforded you as much privacy as possible. 

Underneath the teasing and jokes, Soap was kind and friendly. He’d nicknamed you their ‘peace dove’ on the first day, and you hadn’t been able to shake the moniker since.

Even Lieutenant Ghost had been considerate as you tried to keep up with the heavy military jargon and unfamiliar protocols. He slipped you candy bars that were definitely against regulations and sat with you after the countless briefings to explain all of the commands that had flown over your head rapid-fire. He was still scary.

The last military squadron you had worked alongside had mostly ignored you, frustrated with your inexperience and occasionally downright cruel. They hadn’t respected your expertise or your research despite your attempts to explain how vital it was to their safety.

There was none of that here.

After several days of monitoring intel and surveillance, Price had finally made the call to infiltrate the terrorist labs. The only way to stop these weapons would be to secure the materials themselves.

Soap and Ghost were assigned to clear out any hostiles, and your mission was to gather anything in the labs that would help to stop production of the weapons and synthesize antidotes.

It was difficult to keep up with them as they closed in on the lab. You had been instructed to hang back a ways while they engaged, but even then you were struggling to match their pace.

You had never known anyone who could make an assault rifle look small until these men. Like they were holding a toy. Despite their size, both the sergeant and the lieutenant were exceptionally fast even with all their gear.

As you approached the location of the terrorists’ labs, Ghost signaled for all of you to halt. He grabbed you by the shoulders and pressed you into a crouch inside a copse of brush where you would be able to keep cover.

“Stay here. We’ll engage the hostiles and bring you in as soon as the site is secure,” he ordered.

Both he and Soap immediately made to move in, but you managed to catch Soap by the hand. “Be careful,” you warned. “We have no clue what kind of shit they’re cooking up in there.”

“Don’t worry, Dove. We’ll do just fine,” Soap promised with a grin.

And then they were gone.

The silence that filled in after their retreating boot steps was excruciating. The sharp cracks of gunfire that rang out in short bursts were somehow even worse. You couldn’t radio in without risking the operation - the noise could give away their position - so you were left waiting until Ghost signaled the all clear. As the minutes dragged on since the last round of shots, you prayed you wouldn’t have to fall back on your contingency extraction: if you didn’t hear from either Soap or Ghost after two hours, you were to make your way to a designated pickup spot.

Your radio crackled.

“You there, Dovie?” Soap’s voice came through. He sounded uninjured.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” That was Ghost this time. “We’ve eliminated all hostiles. Give us ten more minutes to secure the site, and then I’ll send Soap to come get you.”

“Copy that.” An unbelievable amount of tension seemed to melt out of you at that, and you let out a heavy sigh.

Not even a minute later you heard a distant bang. Not gunfire. A small explosion.

“Lieutenant?” You immediately called over the radio. “What was that?”

“Fucking hell!” Soap shouted. “The lab was rigged!”

“Lieutenant?” You were already pushing to your feet, rushing out of the safety of your cover and towards the labs.

“We tripped something,” Ghost finally responded. “They had canisters set to burst if the lab was tampered with.”

“You mean you got dosed?” Your fingers were numb with fear as you fumbled with your radio. “Are you experiencing any symptoms? I’m on my way now!”

The radio was silent for a few moments, but you were sprinting as fast as you could toward the site. If you could get there quick enough, maybe you could find an antidote somewhere in the labs. They wouldn’t know what to look for, but if you could find out what was in those canisters, surely you could fix this.

“Wait, Dovie,” Soap’s voice was rough, breathy. “Stay where you are. Don’t come near here.”

“I’m the only chance you have at finding an antidote,” you shouted into the radio.

“Hold your position. Do not approach. That is an order,” Ghost snarled, but you were already at the entrance, flying through the path of carnage Soap and Ghost had left. The satellite images in the briefing had given you a rough idea of where you needed to go, and the trail of bodies confirmed you were on the right track.

As you came up on the entrance to the labs, someone tackled you into the wall, pinning you in place. You screamed, but a gloved hand covered your mouth.

“It’s just me,” Soap assured you. “But you shouldn’t have run in here without your weapon drawn. Shouldn’t have come in here at all.” He pulled his hand away so you could gulp down a breath.

“Whatever you were hit with, they might have an antidote. If I can get to it before it’s too late-“

Soap cut you off. “You’re worse than me at following orders.”

”Let me go.” You tried to squirm out of his hold.

Soap made a choked off sound in your ear. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Fuck, I’m sorry. It’s the gas. I swear. We didn’t know the lab was rigged.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“Jesus, Dove, you have to forgive me. Promise? I can’t fight it.”

“Whatever it is, you’ll be okay. Just let me go, Soap.”

He was pinning you in place with his entire body weight, panting against the back of your neck as he easily kept you still despite your attempts to break free.

Thankfully, you heard the sound of heavy boots approaching. That had to be Ghost.

He rounded the corner and you cried out. “Lieutenant! Please, sir!”

Ghost snarled when he saw you trapped beneath Soap. He crossed the room in three easy strides and ripped the sergeant off of you. Soap hit the floor with a groan, and you tried to back away.

Except the Ghost was closing in on you, knife drawn. He cornered you easily, and the fear had you freezing in place. You weren't a trained soldier. You weren't equipped to handle these kinds of situations.

You flinched as Ghost grabbed for you, squeezing your eyes shut and preparing for the worst, but there wasn't any pain - just the sound of tearing fabric and the sensation of your body armor falling away to a heap on the floor.

“Gotta get these off you,” he growled, crowding even closer against you. His voice wasn’t nearly as rough or as breathless as Soap’s. When you finally worked up the courage to open your eyes, Ghost was leant over you with his face in your neck taking deep inhales. Was he… smelling you?

They’d both been dosed. You had never seen symptoms like these before, but it wasn’t a typical toxin. Surely you could find an antidote if they just let you go.

And then Soap was back, pawing at the space between your bodies. “Please, Ghost,” he was begging, “feels like I’m about to die. Fuck. Need it so bad.”

Ghost pulled away from your neck, reached out to grab Soap by the jaw, holding him still. There was a moment of quiet save for both yours and Soap’s panicked breathing. “Alright, Johnny.” He finally assented. “You gotta go easy, you hear? Don’t wanna break her.”

You didn’t like the sound of that one bit, but struggling was absolutely useless when Ghost was holding a knife. You knew what he was capable of.

It was too quick for you to even register. Soap was fast. He snatched the knife from Ghost and cut your clothes away, taking you down to the ground with some sort of wrestling maneuver you were never going to escape from.

“I’m so sorry, Dove,” Soap was apologizing again. “Can’t fucking help it.”

He shoved his own gloves and gear away, fumbling to open his trousers before freeing his cock. He was achingly hard, and dripping. He was also fucking huge. His eyes fluttered shut in relief as he wrapped his hands around the length and gave a few lazy strokes, but you weren’t naive enough to believe that would be all it took.

“Please,” you begged, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Don’t fuss,” Soap placed a finger over your lips to quiet you, then he shoved it inside your mouth. You weren’t sure if biting him would end well for you. He grabbed your legs by the knees, raising your hips until your pussy was on display for him. “That’s a good girl.” He spit on his fingertips and began rubbing at your entrance, as if that would be enough lube.

He pressed two fingers inside of you, but you were so terrified that it didn’t feel right at all. It hurt. You screamed, and suddenly Ghost was there.

“This is the only way to help,” he said, and you noticed he had a silver canister in his hands. “I promise this will make it easier.”

You didn’t have enough time to react before he crushed the canister with just his gloved hands. A deafening hiss drowned out the sounds of your own sobs and your vision went white as the contents of the canister filled the air. You couldn’t hold your breath at all, not when you were sobbing with gasps of pain. The gas settled over your skin, inside your mouth and nose. You instinctively swiped your tongue against your teeth and cheeks. It tasted powdery and sour.

“Give her a second, Johnny,” Ghost ordered.

You were almost glad they had cut your clothes away because your skin was suddenly too warm. Too clammy. Your mouth went from bitter and dry to watering with saliva in a matter of seconds. Every sensation felt sharper, and the pain disappeared. Soap was just as warm where you were pressed against him, and his fingers inside you were now drenched in slick wetness.

How were they even able to think like this? They’d been dealing with these symptoms for longer than you and somehow still had control of themselves. You had been exposed to the gas for less than a minute and all rational thought had left you.

“That’s a good girl,” Ghost’s voice reached you through the drunken haze and you whined. “Spread yourself nice and open on Johnny’s fingers.”

Oh. You were fucking your hips against Soaps’ hand. He was watching the sight with his pupils blown wide as he pressed a third finger inside of you. The stretch felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough.

“Please,” you begged. “More. Please.”

Soap curled his fingers inside you and you cried out. He held your hips still with his free hand so he could fuck you harder on his fingers. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he had you gushing over his wrist in a matter of seconds.

“Gonna fuck you now.” He settled between your thighs. All you could do was beg because his finger hadn’t been enough. “Gonna breed you full, alright, Dove?”

“Yes. Yes, please,” you panted.

You would never have been able to take his cock if Ghost hadn’t dosed you with the gas. Even after the rough fingerfucking you still cried out at the stretch. But it didn’t hurt this time. You loved the way he filled you, the sensation of him sinking deeper inside.

He was too impatient at this point. Had been holding himself back for too long. The moment his cock bottomed out inside you it was like his final thread of control snapped. You were long past him, having never once stood a chance after Ghost crushed that canister.

“Jesus, Dove, you’re so tight. Feel so good on my cock,” Soap was panting against your skin as he fucked you. You were much less coherent beneath him, just a stream of sobbing and begging. You understood what Soap had said earlier: you felt like you were going to die if they didn’t fuck you. If they didn’t ruin you on their cocks. 

“I’m already close.”

You were surprised Soap had lasted this long, considering how quickly you had come on his fingers. It was definitely the toxins in your system, but you needed him to claim you. Needed to be bred full. You must have begged for it, because Soap was soothing you as he picked up the pace.

“You’re okay. I’m gonna give you what you need. Just take it like a good girl, right Dovie?”

He forced his cock as deep as he could when he came, rocking against your hips to make sure it would take. You could feel it, so hot and sticky inside you, dripping out around his cock as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm.

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before a huge shadow filled your vision. Ghost. He shoved Soap aside, taking in the sight of you beneath him.

“Johnny made a mess of you didn’t he?” A gloved hand trailed over your tear stained cheeks, through the string of drool hanging from your lips. He forced your thighs apart to see Soap’s come dripping out of your used pussy. “Look at you, pretty girl,” he teased.

“Please,” you whined. The strange panic was taking hold of you again. You were scared what would happen if Ghost didn’t fuck you. “Please, sir. I need it.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Ghost swore under his breath. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. Should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to fight it off. Poor thing.”

He tossed his gloves aside, running warm, calloused hands over your sticky, sweaty skin. “I’m bigger than Johnny,” he warned. “But something tells me you’ll like that.”

All you could do was beg. How did Ghost have so much control? It was almost like he wasn’t affected at all.

He took mercy on you, dragging his cock against your pussy to slick the length of it before pressing inside. He was slower than Soap, more careful. And even under the effects of the gas, you needed it. Fuck. He was huge.

“You’re fucking noisy,” Ghost grumbled. And then there were two fingers pushing past your lips. You swirled your tongue around the digits to chase the salt and the sweat, and the relative quiet seemed to appease the lieutenant as he finally bottomed out inside you.

You had never been so full in your life, split open on the lieutenant’s cock like this. He groaned beneath the mask as he fucked you, rhythm faltering as you squeezed tight around his cock.

Even with his fingers in your mouth, you must have picked up your whining again because he leaned in to shush you. “Don’t worry, I’ll fill you up again. Breed you just like you need. We won’t let you go until you’re full of us.”

It should have sounded threatening, but all you could focus on was the promise that they would take care of you. That they would leave you dripping with their come.

The initial rush of the toxins had given way to a sort of timeless haze. You couldn’t focus on anything except the feeling of Ghost fucking you and his fingers in your mouth. It could have been hours. You just needed to be full.

“Here it comes, Little Dove,” Ghost warned you. “Better take every last drop.”

He pulled you so far onto his cock that a glance of pain managed to reach you in the haze, but it only left you craving more. You could feel his cock twitching inside you as he came, filling you even more than Soap had.

“Such a good girl.” He only pulled out after he was sure he had fucked his come into you as deep as possible. And when a few drops began to spill out, he swiped them up with the fingers he had just pulled from your mouth and forced them back inside your pussy again.

“Hey, LT,” Soap grinned where he was slowly stroking his cock. “Does this mean it’s my turn again?”

[homosexualisopod]

Music used to live in our homes. You'd find 5 abandoned MP3 players and about as many ipods living in any of your junk drawers, all weird shapes with songs somebody took the time to curate on some free MP3 downloader website and rename by hand. The shelves would be spilling over with CD cases all stacked haphazardly and your favourite CD lived in the tray of your boombox that took four big ass D-cell batteries that you dared your siblings or friends to lick when it was time to change them out. You'd burn music onto a CD from the computer with the BBL and the barely functioning disk tray that you had to manually pull and push and then you'd scrawl something stupid on it in sharpie and play it until it inevitably got covered in scratches from being loved so well and living unprotected. You'd dig up a cassette tape from an old hair metal band hidden in the basement or the attic or the back of a closet and discover a whole new universe the moment you wound that puppy up and put it in the tray on the front of that boombox. Radios were anything from a piece of furniture with 6 other functions to a little handheld clear plastic freak that you had to hold just right to pick up a radio signal playing your favourite song at the time. You used to be able to touch music and let it know you loved it.

[cathode-raygirl]

Salvation for a Broken Bot (Chapter 1)

An amateur repair girl finds a severely damaged android abandoned in a junkyard.

This first chapter is sfw but subsequent chapters will be 18+ only. Content warning for a description of a character in a state of disrepair with implied eye trauma.

If you have any questions or feedback feel free to comment or send me an ask!

Rose had visited the abandoned junkyard several times before, but this was the first time she'd come with the intention of stealing.

Half a mile away from anywhere of note, the only sign of civilisation was the distant hum of cars driving down the A22 in the distance. The sound felt relaxing to her, like the waves of the ocean.

She approached the chain link fence surrounding the complex. Someone had repaired the hole she used to enter last time, but she had come prepared. She rummaged around in her backpack and retrieved a pair of bolt cutters. Expertly praying apart rusty segments of fence with her tools, she breached the defences and found herself in a sea of discarded garbage.

From handheld items like phones and radios, to larger appliances like televisions and fridges, the junkyard had it all. But there was one particular prize she was looking for: A robot. It was rare but not unheard of for companies like Ashdown to dump their decommissioned workers in facilities like these, and she was planning on...

Hmm.

She wasn't really sure what she was planning on doing to be honest. Selling one for parts? Repairing it as a passion project? She told herself she'd figure it out later. There wasn't even a guarantee that there *was* anything here anyway. Better to not get her hopes up too early.

She gripped the scanner in her left hand. She'd spent the past week building it, the perfect device for combing for artificial life. The android designs that Ashdown Logistics pioneered had distinctive battery designs to accommodate for their intense workload, and it quickly became the industry standard. If she was able to locate a power supply with the scanner, she *should* be able to locate a bot. In theory. The scanner wasn't picking anything up yet though.

She turned on her torch and began walking deeper into the facility. The scanner's range wasn't particularly good due to the sensor she'd opted to use so-

Her eyes lit up in excitement. A figure! In the distance! Unmoving!

She crept up towards it, her eyes filled instantly with recognition: The body of a robot, slumped backwards over a pile of broken televisions, a steel rod driven perfectly through its left eye, pinning it in place. Most of its pure white hair had been torn away, the few remaining patches blowing gently in the wind.

Its chest had caved in as well, and the silicone plates that covered its rusted internals were covered with dirt and mould.

Rose wondered what had happened to it, how it could have gotten this damaged. It was hard to make it out in the state it was in but it seemed to be some kind of worker bot? Definitely not anything that would normally have combat experience, that's for sure. If any robot rights groups found out about this they'd be having a field day. But more than that... She wondered how her scanner never picked it up.

She ripped the steel rod out of its head and flipped it over. Its charging port was missing, a large cavity in its place. By the looks of it, someone had forcefully removed the battery and several other key components by the looks of it. What *happened* here?

A mystery like this was irresistible to her. If she could somehow repair it, she could interrogate it, and then she potentially had a story she could give to the press, or even one of the robot rights groups. They'd been springing up a lot recently and she was sure at least one of them would take interest. 

She dragged the bot through the muddy ground, through the hole in the fence, and loaded it into her car.

Rose sat on a chair in her workshop, staring at the android in front of her in contemplation. The first thing she needed to do was assess the damages and figure out if it was possible to salvage the bot. A more talented maintenance girl would probably know by now, but Rose was just a hobbyist, so she *really* needed to know what model it was. 

The sticker with this valuable information on had long since been washed away by rain, so she had no choice but to begin disassembling its head in the hopes of finding a motherboard. 

After half an hour's work, the bot's head laid sprawled out in pieces on her desk. She admired the beauty of the intricate mechanisms in front of her, how so many tiny parts could come together to form a believable imitation of a human face. At least, they would if they were in good condition. She could already tell that most of them had either rusted beyond repair or been badly damaged by the blunt force of the steel rod, so they'd have to be replaced. Still, the process should be simple enough once she got the model number.

Inspecting the motherboard, she noticed a peculiar chip with a pink heart on it. She'd never seen something like that before. She took a photo of it and made a mental note to reverse image search it later. Turning the board over, she was met with an unfortunate sight: The Ashdown Logistics logo, and the model number 4MB-3R. 

Ashdown's androids were known for being made with parts that were as closed source and proprietery as physically possible. They refused to release any data sheets or schematics, and the parts that *could* be bought were insanely expensive. No one, not even the smartest engineers of their rival companies had been able to figure out how to create even an imitation of their personality chips, so they held a complete monopoly over the robotics industry. 

Not only that, but the 4MBs were several generations ago. In fact, Rose was almost certain that they had been discontinued in 2002. By now, they were onto the 8MB range, which were mechanically unrecognisable from their 34 year old counterparts. 

Rose slumped backwards into her chair. There was absolutely no way in hell she would be able to buy any replacement parts for this, and she doubted that she'd be able to find any more 4MB units, let alone a 4MB-3R. She had no idea what the difference between the sub units even was, but she was certain it would be significant enough to hinder her progress.

She sighed. It looked like she'd need to take matters into her own hands. There *was* a crude accessory that was compatible with most androids she'd encountered before: A modified cathode ray tube screen could be used to visualise a robot's thoughts. With some training, she was sure that the 4MB-3R could teach itself how to use one as a face. It wouldn't be a great solution by any means but it'd definitely be better than having a caved in, unmoving face. And it wasn’t like the bot would be stuck with it forever, just until she found something better to use.

As for the rest of the body? She could replace the charger port with an external charging system she had lying around, and she was sure she had some spare torso pieces buried *somewhere* in her workshop. There were obviously a lot more parts missing but it'd probably be best to get the basic functionality working first. After all, she wouldn't want to put effort into building a body for an android that might not even be capable of turning on anymore. 

She gazed out her window wistfully, watching the cars pass by below her. In a way, Brighton looked like a giant circuit board, the roads forming tracks between the various buildings, which resembled cathodes, diodes and chips. Or perhaps it was the other way around, and circuit boards looked like cities. 

Despite living in a bustling city, she could never shake away the loneliness she felt in apartment. She was a single, lonely electron in a vast uncaring circuit board, but perhaps she'd be able to find a companion in the form of this bot. And if not, it'd certainly give her something to take her mind off things for a while.

[ Chapter 2: Reconstruction ]

[justalittlesolarpunk]

This is my last post before I head off on my ten-day minimal-internet tidalpunk adventure (expect pics when I return!) so I thought I’d make a nice long list-type thing for all you solarpunks before I go.

Now, this might not seem very cheerful compared to my other topics - certainly all the people I’ve brought this up with irl have acted like I’m being alarmist and depressing, but I don’t see it that way. I view it as being prepared and maximising your ability to keep yourself and your community safe, which is after all what solarpunk is all about!

So without further ado, here is my *extremely idealised* suggestion for an emergency kit list to help you cope with increasingly frequent and severe extreme weather events. The goal is that with the supplies in this bag you could either shelter safely in place or get up and go, and be well supplied in either case to care for yourself and share with those in need. In fact, in both scenarios you would hopefully be able to temporarily ‘start from scratch’ in terms of infrastructure should the frameworks of society around you no longer be reliable. I based mine off suggestions by climate scientist Kendra Pierre-Louis (you can check out her advice on the ‘Unnatural Disasters’ episode of the How To Save A Planet Podcast), but yours might look subtly different depending on who you are, what you can afford/carry, and where you live.

Emergency kit list:

-Big hiking rucksack, to keep everything in

-Sleeping bag

-A small portable tent and camping stove

-A penknife or multi tool

-Matches or a lighter

-Kindling or firestarters - I use wood wool balls held together with wax

-Torch (with up to date batteries!)

-Towels

-Non-perishable or long-life foods, such as protein bars, rice cakes/breadsticks/crackers, dried fruit, bagged nuts/seeds, crisps, tinned soup, pot noodles

-A seedbomb of edible plants (you can get some for slightly excessive prices here in the UK, otherwise they can be made fairly easily by combining clay, straw, paper or flour with the desired seeds)

-Two large water bottles (600-650ml) and a water bladder

-A water purifier (preferably one capable of filtering out both natural pathogens like bacteria and viruses and synthetic pollutants like heavy metals and PFAS)

-A collapsible bucket

-A first aid kit, including plasters, bandages, sterile wipes, hand sanitiser, latex gloves, antiseptic/disinfectant, (K)N95 masks to filter out particulates (whether ash or pathogens), painkillers, antihistamines, rehydration sachets, anti-emetics and anti-diarrhoeals, steroid creams, aloe vera gel, iodine tablets in case of radiation, and any medication you regularly take (including epipens and inhalers if needed)

-A pair of goggles to protect your eyes from air pollution such as smog, wildfire smoke, etc

-Toothpaste tablets and a spare toothbrush

-Period supplies (pack these even if you don’t get periods - someone you run into might need them)

-A solar charger

-A satellite phone

-A mechanical handheld fan, with working batteries, to keep you cool in extreme heat

-A magnetic heat belt for extra warmth

-A change of clothes, including a sun hat, a scarf, woolly hat and gloves for extreme cold, and waterproofs (plus an umbrella!) for wet conditions

-Pliers or secateurs for cutting through dense debris or vegetation

-Some strong, climbing-grade rope

-A trowel (for planting and digging up but also for burying…waste 😅 - a long-term wild camping scenario isn’t infeasible here)

-Your passport and any other documents (marriage certificate, adoption papers, savings bonds if you’re like a hundred years old) that you might need if fleeing your country becomes a necessity

-As much cash as you are comfortable withdrawing/leaving lying around your house/carrying with you in an emergency

-A personal locator beacon is a radio-transmitter that signals your location to emergency services via satellite. These tend to have a 24-hour battery life, so if you foresee being in any way ‘stranded’ for longer then a useful trick is to switch it on for one hour each day, and then turn it off again. This not only saves power but shows emergency services that there is conscious intention involved, proving you’re still alive and lucid

-Some things to keep your spirits up, like a chocolate bar and your favourite/funniest book

-It’s worth having a sturdy pair of hiking boots for if you have to pick up the bag and go

Obviously this list is super extra, a bunch of these things are prohibitively expensive, and some items would need periodic replacement if a long time passed without the necessity of using the emergency kit. You could also likely build a fairly functional emergency kit with only a fraction of these supplies, I’m just trying to anticipate every eventuality here.

It’s up to you whether you think the investment is worth it - it’s a big outlay for a possible zero return. Personally I think it’s at least somewhat worth it as extreme weather is only going to happen more often and have more serious consequences, and preparedness turns what could be a disaster into an inconvenience, often saving money in the long run. But it will depend on the relative likelihood of severe weather events in your local area. It’s also worth saying that these work for ostensibly non-climate related problems, from a power cut in your town to an authoritarian coup in your government to your house falling down! It isn’t just for wildfires or tornadoes.

Over the next few months I’m hoping to slowly build up the aspects of the kit that are affordable and accessible to me, with the aim of being able to keep myself safe and aid my neighbours should disaster strike.

[captawesomesauce]

Disaster Preparedness...

This is going to be a little bit of a different post. Not everyone likes being told what to pack or wants checklists, so I want to help you think of what you will need if something happens in your area

So a disaster has hit in your area. There are fires, there's flooding, debris is everywhere, and help is always slow to come.

There's also no cell communications, no power, no internet, gas lines and water lines are shut down too.

It's 110 degrees during the day, and 40 degrees at night with high wind.

So what do you do? What do you need?

Communication

When a disaster hits, how are you going to communicate with your family members who may or may not be nearby?

How are you going to tell people in other cities / states / countries that you are ok or you need help?

How are you going to stay informed about what is going on?

Do you have little handheld radios, or noaa radio with solar panel? Do you have a ham radio?

Food

Everything in your fridge/freezer is junk unless you have a generator, and even then, do you have enough energy to last a week or 2?

What are you going to eat? How are you going to prepare it and cook it? What about plates, utensils, and napkins that you can dispose of since you can't wash anything?

You're going through a traumatic event... you will either stress eat, or shut down. Prepare for that.

Water

That's great that you have bottled water... but do you have enough?? Do you have enough for basic sanitation? Do you have a way of carrying it or dispensing and rationing it? Do you have a bunch of small bottles that are a bitch to move from a to b or do you have heavy water jugs that you can't move and it's hard to dispense from? Do you have a way to filter water as well?

Stay cool

It's hot... it's blistering hot... it's humid... being indoors or outdoors is dangerous without a/c which you don't have... so what do you do? Do you have fans or chemical ice packs or cooling towels? Do you have a way to erect some type of shade/shelter if you're stuck outdoors?

How do you stay cool, how do you keep your pets cool?

Stay warm

It's cold, it's insanely cold, and the wind is even worse... so what do you do? How do you stay warm and block out the wind? Do you have chemical hand warmers, warm clothes, blankets? Do you have a way to be warm away from your shelter where you'll be going to the bathroom?

Get out of your damaged house/building

Shit just happened and your house/building isn't safe. Do you have all of your important stuff handy? Papers, photos, meds?

Doors are jammed and blocked... do you have the tools to open them? Do you have the ability to use another exit point like a window?

Do you have a way of writing/marking on the door that all of you are out safely so Search and Rescue knows?

Shelter

Inside of your home or outside of your home... do you have the ability to build a shelter that provides privacy and safety from the elements?

Maybe a tent, or a canopy, or some tarps? Maybe a portable bucket for a quick makeshift toilet?

Where are you going to sit, eat, sleep, piss and shit when it's insanely hot out and incredibly cold too? Can you carry this stuff far if you need to? Floods breed mosquitos and disease like cholera... you might have to leave and go far to be safe, even if your home is fine.

Do you have camping beds? Chairs? Tables? Lights? Bug sprays?

What do you need to be comfortable ... think of it like camping.

Travel

Do you have a paper map of your area and areas you might have to evacuate to? Cell towers are down, there is no internet, and you might be saving your cell battery for important communication.

Do you have good shoes/boots to walk through the broken glass and debris and everything else? Are they waterproof because any standing water is toxic after a disaster?

Do you have enough gas in the car if the roads are open?

Do you have cash on hand to pay for gas and other stuff since credit cards won't be usable?

First Aid & more

Do you have a first aid kit in the car and in your home? If someone cuts their hand on broken glass, can you fix that? If someone broke their leg or arm, can you take care of that? From cuts to scrapes to burns to splinters and more.... do you have what it takes to patch things up since help isn't available?

What about bigger issues - What if power lines fell and sparked a small tree fire that can spread to your home, but the water is shut off, do you have extinguishers and shovels or fire blankets? Do you have hard hats and safety glasses? What about N95 masks? Good gloves?

Do you know how to turn off the water, power, and gas to your building and neighbors if you need to? Do you have the right tools?

Do you have everyone's meds and enough to go a couple of weeks?

What if you can't get home, do you have it in your car too?

Get help

If you do need more help, how are you going to do it?

You see it all the time, someone signals a passing helicopter with a signal mirror, or a bright orange signal panel, or writes on their roof in paint or chalk.

Do you have a personal audible alarm that will alert rescuers to where you are? Or a loud whistle?

Find each other

It's 10am on a weekday... and a sudden tornado hits, or an earthquake, or a tsunami, or a volcano... something totally unpredictable.

You are at work/school, someone else is at there spot, no one is near each other... how do you get together? Do you have preset meeting points? Do you have preset contact points?

Remember - local communications are sometimes down, but long distant lines are often free! I like the idea of picking someone out of state where everyone checks in and that person can pass along the info.

Sanitation

This is one people often don't think about but do you have a shovel to bury feces and stuff? Do you have wet wipes and hand sanitizer to keep clean? Do you have garbage bags and zip ties for bloody bandages, poop, and food waste?

Do you have brooms and things to push away rotting vegetation that rats love to nest in? What about just to clean up broken glass and other crap so you can shelter safely? Do you have what ever you need to get rid of mud and dirt?

Sanity

Remember... this is a traumatic event... do you have what you need to keep yourself occupied without electricity? Do you have books to read, do you have toys to play with, do you have a guitar to just mess around with?

There's nothing to do, no where to go, you're STUCK.... you're stress eating through your supplies like crazy... what can you do to stay busy, relaxed, and safe?

----------------------

These are all things to think about because no two people need the same stuff or can use the same stuff.

Make your plans with the thought that you might not be home when it happens, you might not be able to ever GO home... home might be gone!

Make your plans with the thought that you need to reunite with your loved ones.

Make your plans with the thought that you might need to leave your home and travel quite a bit away.

Make your plans with the thought you might be stuck at home, with all of your windows broken and no gas, water, or power.

Think about what YOU need. And then make it happen.

[objectbiologist]

Do you have any info on computers or technology in general?

tech-based objects are unique in that they have only begun to evolve much more recently than most other species. they have no known habitat in the wild and are one of the very few objects that can be man (or object) made.

they are a fair bit more "domesticated" than other object species and due to only recently beginning to appear, they are rare and not well studied. their biological workings are a mystery, but unlike other object species, they lack most vital organs. they don't have a heart or lungs, and in place of bones and nerves possess an endoskeleton of what seem to be flexible metal and wires. though they are very robotic in nature at first glance, a few studies have revealed that their internals are naturally occurring components that have simply adapted to mimic inorganic material.

they survive off of electricity, and instead of sleeping they charge themselves up or use batteries if they're an old world species. like any other object, they are able to process normal food, though most prefer not to. their limbs are covered by a tough, metallic carapace, and manmades might have robotic limbs instead.

old world vs. new world species

with how fast technology evolves in the modern world, we have separated the mechanica class into two: old world and new world species. old world objects, as the name suggests, are older, "archaic" technology by human standards. these are much bulkier and more resilient than their new world counterparts. they also usually require batteries, though this isn't a requirement. you will find species like handheld radios, remotes, electronic toys, and crts in this category.

new world objects are modern tech. this is where you find your phones, laptops, gaming systems, and flatscreens. they are usually able to plug into a charging station or outlet to regain energy, but again this isn't a requirement. they are more fragile than old world species.

[regulatedstrawberry]

Reaching New Heights : A Tails Adventure - Chapter 11

Thanks for waiting! Newest chapter of my Tails fic is finally ready. Feel free to read it below the cut, or through the link! This chapter features a warning for animal violence.

Summary:

“When this is all over… I think I need to go it alone for a while. I can’t grow into my full potential if I always fall back on you.” Tails decides to embark on his own journey, without Sonic. Amy goes on the girls trip of her dreams, with Cream and Sticks. Sonic receives a surprise visit from the future. Takes place after the main storyline events of Sonic Frontiers.

Rating: T Words: 29k+ Chapters: 12/?

Tails took a hearty bite of the last of his apple, unfazed by its mealy texture. It was the next morning, and, decidedly, his last morning at this crash site. He had slept with his new device cradled next to him, anxiously awaiting his opportunity to get back to civilization, fantasizing about the luxuries of life: a hot meal, a hot shower, and a warm, cozy bed.

Tails set the apple core neatly on the ground, trying to shake off the guilt with the fact that it wasn’t quite littering – it was composting. He stood up and stretched his arms high, feeling the sun warming his face. He was filled with a vigor he hadn’t had in a while, decidedly optimistic about his expedition. 

He glanced over at the Jaguar, who had already devoured its morning meal - the catch of the day from the river. It laid on the ground unbothered, while attentively licking its paw, reaching every crevice.

“I’m going to pack my bag, and then we’ll head out!” Tails called out, before walking to his duffel bag and bending down in front of it.

The bag was lighter than before, the fresh fruits and some other food having been devoured these past few days. Rummaging through, he took note of everything inside: notebook, toolkit, remaining rations, sweater, homemade radio device with a magic gem inside, and of course, his blaster gun.

Carefully, Tails picked up the blaster and held it, the sleek white metal cool in his hand. He definitely had more powerful weapons back at the lab, but this one was light and compact, ideal for traveling. He opened the panel at the side to check the battery - only 10 percent charged, to his dismay. Maybe there was a way to charge it, if he had enough parts to sort through. It would be good to have.

“Ah!”

A nudge against his back interrupted his thoughts. Jumping slightly, he turned to see the Jaguar beside him, rubbing its head against Tails’ shoulder. 

Tails laughed a little, surprised at the sudden affection, but decidedly welcoming it. He lived with Sonic long enough to know the many, many ways to say ‘hurry up’. 

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled lightly, closing the blaster panel and stuffing it back in the duffel bag. “I’m ready.” 

Tails zipped the bag and stood, before looking at the Jaguar’s hind leg, noticing the absence of the gauze around it. He wasn’t sure if it came off naturally, or was removed in a fit of annoyance. A scar had formed, and the large jungle cat was walking well, with only a slight limp. 

Tails stopped, and looked over his shoulder one last time. The remains of the Tornado laid there in a heap, with the red paint worn from the metal plates. Days ago, the fateful crash during the storm felt like the end of his journey. He’d spent countless hours in the hangar building and modifying it, making sure the yoke and its controls fit like a glove on his hand.

Now, he had accepted its fate. It served its purpose, and gave him the tools to finally begin his adventure. 

With a wistful sigh, Tails turned around, and continued to follow the Jaguar into the forest.

—

Tower EG-5013: 12.3 miles away.

Satisfied, Tails breathed in relief. He flipped the switch off on his device, and nodded, looking over at his companion. “Okay, pretty sure we’re on the right track now.”

It had taken over an hour to really find the right direction, using the handheld satellite as a ‘hot and cold’ box. The two had traveled through the dense forest in almost a large circle, something that initially made Tails more anxious as he became more disoriented from the crash site. But now, he was finally getting consistently closer readings to a cell tower, or tv station, or something that could at least lead to a road, and eventually, a city.

Tails observed the Jaguar looking around rather focused, its ears perked up. He never expected a response, but he’d been around his companion long enough to tell whether they were relaxed or not. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Tails asked. 

His question went unacknowledged. The Jaguar was now crouching perfectly still, its ears flattening back in alert. 

Uneasy, Tails’ eyes darted across the thick jungle foliage, listening carefully for any rustling or sudden movement. After a moment, their suspicions were confirmed - a faint rustling of leaves to the left. 

The yellow fur on his neck was standing on end. His legs were glued to the ground, trying to catch even the tiniest sound of whatever was nearby while ignoring the sound of his shaky breath. Every second that passed felt longer than the last, with the air growing thicker in suspense. The longer they waited, the more unsure he was about whether to reach for his duffel bag, and find his weapon.

And yet, there was no time to react. 

Before he could even gasp, something shot out of the bush behind him, the weight slamming Tails at full force in the chest. The homemade satellite fell out of his hands as he slammed against the dirt. Large, spotted paws pinned his chest to the ground. 

Tails couldn’t hear the growls and commotion around him. Instead, he was wide eyed, mouth hanging open as he stared down his attacker in the face: another jaguar. He wanted to scream as the predator snarled, baring its sharp, menacing teeth at him, but he realized he couldn’t breathe. Only a whimper escaped his lips, and the predator roared, teeth unhinged straight for his face. 

It dawned on the young fox that this was probably the last thing he’d see: the jaws of an animal, before it ate his face off. Tails clenched his eyes shut and braced himself, his only prayer being for his end to be a fast one.

Tails heard another roar, and quickly, felt the weight of the predator’s paws off of his chest. He breathed in sharply as if it was the first time he’d felt air, and rolled over to his side. 

He looked over to see the Jaguar, with its scar on its rear, fighting off the predator. The large cats swatted and growled at each other with clawed paws, their large bodies rolling against the jungle floor. 

The sound of metal clattering took Tails’ attention, and he quickly looked back over his shoulder. Of course, the predator had brought a friend, another jaguar who had found its way into Tails’ duffel bag. It was preoccupied with destroying the bag, making sure all of his tools, items, and food were sprawled on the ground. Before he could lament about his belongings, his eyes settled on the blaster gun on the ground, just within his reach. 

Quickly, Tails clawed the dirt beside him to reach for the blaster, turning it on swiftly with muscle memory. He closed an eye and aimed at the two brawling jungle cats. His hand was sweating, trying to identify friend from foe as they wrestled each other. 

He saw the familiar scar of his companion on the back of its leg, and saw the predator bite down into the Jaguar’s neck. The Jaguar yowled in pain, as their coat began to stain red.

Tails pulled the trigger. 

A blast of energy knocked the predator down, off of the Jaguar. The predator growled in pain, laying on its side, as the Jaguar turned to look back at Tails.  

Tails almost sighed in relief, until the Jaguar began to run towards him. Startled, Tails stepped to the side and turned around to see what had his friend on edge. Of course, the other predator that had destroyed his bag was making a beeline for him while he had been distracted. 

Tails raised his blaster again, quickly aiming at the other predator barreling towards him, and pulled the trigger. 

Only this time, nothing came out.

“What?”

Tails clicked the trigger again, then again, before realizing that he had used his remaining shot.

“No, no no no no no…”

Tails could only plead in vain, his heart pounding in his chest. He watched in horror as the Jaguar came to his defense yet again, blocking the remaining predator from even reaching him. Another brawl emerged, the two jungle cats growling and clawing at each other viciously.

Before Tails could even think of what to do, however, he heard a low, gravelly snarl from behind. 

Of course, his one shot from earlier, that had taken down the first predator, wasn’t debilitating enough. The wounded predator had gotten up, and was eyeing Tails with hungry eyes. It was prepared to use whatever remaining strength it had to exercise its revenge on the young fox.

At this moment, he realized he was out of options.

His one weapon was out, and he wasn’t exactly equipped with quills to take out his foes with a spin dash. 

As a last resort, Tails looked back at his valiant companion for help. His stomach dropped, eyes widening in shock. “No!”

He saw the Jaguar laying on the ground, at the mercy of the other predator. His new friend was alive, but barely. Now it was just him, and two large cats, who were hungrily waiting to pounce at his throat.

In the next moment, the young fox acted with instinct, and regretted every second of it. 

Tails spotted his handheld satellite on the ground, and made a mad dash towards it. He grabbed it and held it tight to his chest, before jumping into a hover. 

And then, he flew as fast as he could, deeper and deeper into the thick of the jungle.

—

Peace and quiet. Just how he liked it.

Laying down, Knuckles rested his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, atop the stone of the Master Emerald’s pedestal. He had memorized the feeling of the floor against his back, with the gentle glow of the Master Emerald against him. Of all the places on Angel Island, his serene home nestled among the clouds, there was no other place like it.

Being the guardian of this relic was a job at the end of the day, a preservation of his people’s history. He took it seriously, and any time spent away from Angel Island left him with a lingering anxiety. So to say he was glad to be back in the humdrum of his life’s purpose, unbothered by the goings on of the world below, was an understatement. At least, until it became his problem. 

A cool breeze washed over him, and he sighed, shifting his arms beside him. He was enjoying his nap. He’d been taking a lot of those since he got back. 

Another breeze came, feeling cooler than the last. Knuckles shifted his body, feeling the cool air on his legs and chest. He wasn’t sure if he’d felt that correctly, or maybe it was a one-off thing. Unbothered, he adjusted himself, resuming his siesta.

Then came the next breeze. 

Rather, a gust of cold wind; it made all the hair on his body stand on end, whistling against his ears. Knuckles’ whole body stiffened, almost moving to hug himself as his eyes snapped open in surprise.

Quickly, the Echidna moved to stand up, completely alert, as he frantically looked at his surroundings. For a moment, he thought he was rudely transported to another location, so he almost sighed in relief when he saw the Master Emerald next to him. 

Another frigid gust of wind blew through him, and he hugged himself tightly. As he tucked his chin down, bracing from the cold, he noticed a few tiny, white specks fall in front of him. It occurred to him that the Island looked darker than usual, the golden rays of sun absent from its lush green terrain.

He looked up. It was just a dark, cloudy sky, with the beginnings of snow traveling down to the ground. 

A confused expression formed on Knuckles’ face, completely taken aback by the weather. Eggman, he would expect. Or aliens, really. But…

“Snow?” Knuckles asked, growing increasingly suspicious, as he braced himself for another gust of wind.

His red brows knit together in deep concern. The power of the Master Emerald regulated the island, keeping its green base locked in an eternal springtime. 

It never snowed on Angel Island.

The only exception to this was the summits of the island’s mountains, their tall peaks capped with a layer of ice. But suffice it to say, this was a puzzling weather anomaly. 

Knuckles breathed out, and saw a puff of white air leave in front of him. The temperature was dropping, and fast. With this, a new problem dawned upon him. His eyes widened.

“The Chao.”

The Chao were the other residents of Angel Island, playful and sweet in nature. While he mainly kept to himself, he had an amicable relationship with them, sometimes helping them when they had trouble reaching whatever object caught their attention. While he didn’t always understand their childlike wonder, he felt some form of responsibility to them, mainly by keeping the island and the Master Emerald safe. 

Knuckles was quick to jump into action, immediately jumping into flight and soaring through the frigid island. He scanned the area as he flew, taking note of any trees or plants they usually stayed around. 

Angel Island was an appropriate habitat for the Chao, not only because of the lack of predators, but also because of the controlled climate. That is, until now.

As he soared through the air, his eyes caught sight of a trio of Chao, colorful bodies huddled together for warmth. The Echidna landed quickly in front of them, kneeling down to look at their round, miserable faces. Their eyes were large and helpless, as they looked up at the guardian. 

“You guys okay?” He asked with concern, extending a hand out.

A strong, frigid gust of wind blew through them, and the Chao decided it was too unbearable for them alone. Without warning, they squeaked and flew towards the Echidna, pressing their faces against his chest for warmth.

“Ah– Hey!” Knuckles stumbled back at the surprise attack, until realizing it wasn’t an attack at all: they were just cold and shivering. 

With a sigh, Knuckles pet their heads awkwardly, resigned to the situation. He wasn’t really a touchy-feely kind of guy, but they were cold. He could feel himself getting colder too, now that he wasn’t flying. 

“We gotta look for the others,” Knuckles said, stepping back to meet the three Chao in the eye. “Will you help me get everyone together?” 

The three Chao exchanged looks between each other, before facing Knuckles again. They smiled and cheered, determination in their faces as they fluttered about. 

Knuckles smiled a bit, and nodded in confirmation. “Great. Let’s do this.”

—

Knuckles’ feet hit the floor of the Master Emerald’s stone pedestal, with the sound of a soft crunch. There was a thin layer of snow, no more than an inch thick, covering the pedestal. Oddly enough, there was an empty ring in the immediate area around the Master Emerald; with no snow around or on top of its large facets.

He was followed by a band of around thirty Chao, who had all flown as a unit together, relying on each other for warmth. They weren’t as chatty as usual, their squeaks and hums hushed with worry. It didn’t take long to find them, as many of them were already seeking out the Echidna’s protection in the first place. 

Knuckles sighed heavily, and sat down on the ground, cringing slightly at the feeling of cold snow on his bottom. He was feeling drowsy, but whatever chill he felt was now replaced with an inner warmth. He had the Chao together, but he needed a moment before he could continue figuring out what to do next. 

The Chao hovered expectantly around him, looking at their guardian with worry. They whispered to each other, before making their way closer and closer to the Echidna.

“What— hmph.” Knuckles grunted in disapproval, but again, resigned to their affection. He was, effectively, covered in a blanket of Chao, as they all huddled around his body for warmth. He almost couldn’t complain about it, considering the cold, except for the fact that they were touching him. 

The Echidna closed his eyes, drawing a long breath. He’d just take a minute to collect himself. 

“Long time no see,” said a familiar voice.

Knuckles opened his eyes and looked up to see Rouge the Bat, floating down to the ground gracefully, with that typical cheeky, knowing expression on her face.

“Rouge.” Knuckles wasn’t upset at her presence, but not exactly enthralled, either. The bat visited every so often, with an agenda to fawn over the Master Emerald, and bug Knuckles while she was at it. Admittedly, he didn’t mind her company, and actually grew used to it – or rather, just accepted that she was going to show up whether he liked it or not. 

“I dropped by a few days ago, but nobody was home,” Rouge shrugged. “Didn’t realize you were babysitting.”

“Tch,” Knuckles scowled, feeling rather undignified beneath the pile of cold Chao. He quickly stood up, gently brushing the Chao off of him, so he could speak to Rouge properly. “What are you doing here?” 

Rouge wasn’t planning on answering that question. As the wind blew, the bat cloaked herself in her wings, and shivered. “Brr, didn’t know I’d need a jacket,” she commented, inconvenienced.

The pod of Chao squeaked, their tiny, trembling bodies burrowing into each other for warmth. Knuckles bit through the cold as the wind hit him again, but this time, not feeling so bothered by it. “Something’s wrong with my island. It’s not supposed to snow up here.” He paused and looked over at the large, green gem, situated within the stone pedestal. “But I didn’t sense anything wrong with the Master Emerald. How did this happen?” 

Rouge caught the worried expression on Knuckles’ face. She was well aware of how seriously he took his duty, simultaneously annoyed and intrigued at his insistence on keeping the gem on its weathered stone pedestal. He didn’t talk much about himself if it wasn’t related to his tribe’s history, or its relic. 

But another, strong gust of wind sent the snow against her, feeling like small knives cutting into her skin. She wasn’t interested in sticking around any longer, at least not without a coat. Knuckles had been toughing it out for a while in this weather– at this point, he was going to get sick, whether he wanted to believe it or not.

“We gotta go, Knuckles,” She said urgently, a serious expression on her face. “At this rate, it’s gonna be a blizzard.”

Knuckles folded his arms over his chest, looking at Rouge with a displeased expression. “If you can’t handle a little wind, you can go. But I’m not leaving my island until I get to the bottom of this.”

“The Chao are freezing, Knuckles,” She rebutted firmly, gesturing to the shivering, helpless pod of Chao. “They can’t stay here. You’re about to get hypothermia,” she said pointedly, noting how he seemed unaffected by the cold. “If something happens to you, then who’s gonna protect the Master Emerald?” 

Knuckles scowled at the blow to his ego, knowing she was right. His mind was racing through all the possibilities that his people’s prized possession, his purpose, could be stolen right from beneath him. He wanted to argue that he’d be strong enough to fight through the cold, to devote every ounce of himself to protecting the emerald. It was his duty, after all. 

But when he turned to look at the Chao, freezing and helpless amongst themselves, the guilt hit him in a final, decisive blow. He had a duty to protect this island, and those that lived on it. 

Scowling, Knuckles hung his head in defeat, before turning to face the shivering bat in front of him. “Fine,” he said quietly, his voice deep. 

He’d leave, if only to help evacuate the Chao, and grab a winter coat while he’s at it. But he wouldn’t rest until he got to the bottom of this.

[ladyshivs]

Could I ask 50 from the ask game? For whichever Step you want (or all of them I find Bug Out Bag essentials weirdly fascinating)

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

Richard is a pragmatist. His go bag has a few essentials: water purification tablets, MREs, some bandages and alcohol wipes, otc pain relievers, Burner phone, Second burner phone, Batteries, $500 cash.

Lydia is practical but a little more sentimental. She’s got a full first aid kit, toiletries, change of clothes, good walking shoes, $100 cash, caffeine pills, granola bars, water bottle. She’s got a newspaper cut out from her time as sidestep tucked into a pocket, a small hand held radio, several fake IDs, maps of the Los diablos area and its surroundings, a poncho, and needle and thread.

Rohids go bag is the most spartan of them all: thick socks, cigarettes, fire starter. Gun and ammunition. Hunting knife.

Henrietta has the most in general and the most “frivolous” amount of items: phone, burner phone, chargers, headphones, gps, handheld radio, signal jammer, first aid kit, sunscreen, hand lotion, toiletry bag, travel sized make up kit, travel sized hair drier, change of clothes, second change of clothes, pajamas, two pairs of shoes, extra set of glasses, metal water bottle, plastic water bottle, MREs, collapsible camping tent, sleeping bag, earplugs, caffeine pills, sewing kit, maps, travel sized nail polish, pair of earrings, handful of cash that she might grab, lock picking kit, sunglasses, nail care kit

Sal is too over confident and doesn’t have a go bag at all

[bard-owl]

@inkandguns @bigredm38-6

That radio post is getting long and pretty technical for my pre-coffee brain, so I'll just make a side post.

HAM has some great uses but isn't necessary for all roles. The PTT handsets, headsets, and throat mics all have their uses but aren't necessary at all times either. And yes, the FCC won't mean shit in a disaster so HAM licenses are useless, but only after that point. By which I mean that you need to train with your equipment to be proficient and if you regularly run around as a squad spamming with handheld HAMs eventually someone will fuck up and hit a license controlled HF freq and some FCC snitch will hear and report your asses. Similarly getting people out to train is a PITA enough for medical, vehicles, field survival, and shooting, so making everyone a COMMs guru is unlikely.

Personally I'd settle for getting a few people schooled on long range skills, maybe two people in an immediate circle and two people in a nearby immediate circle, and get everyone else proficient on simpler types of radios, such as CB, FRS, and MURS.

TLDR, I think the best use of the Fang Gang is upgrading antennas and batteries and using them for sending reports or emergency warnings to other groups, while small unit tactics, vehicle movements, and short range SAR are better served with cheaper, simpler, unlicensed radio types.

[craigstewartus1]

A 2 way radio earpiece is an essential accessory for two-way radios. This compact gadget links with a two-way radio system, enabling discreet and hands-free communication. Comprising an earpiece and a push-to-talk (PTT) button, it facilitates listening and transmitting messages without requiring the user to hold the radio device physically. This technology finds widespread application among security personnel, event organisers, and law enforcement officials seeking efficient and discreet communication.

[daisiesonafield-blog]

Info for Faith In The Future World Tour STERLING HEIGHTS, MI - JUN 2 2023

With special guests THE ACADEMIC & SNARLS!

Important Times:

3:30 PM - Parking opens

5:30 PM - Doors Open

7:00 PM - Snarls

8:00 PM - The Academic

9:00 PM - Louis Tomlinson

Times are all approximate. The show information is subject to change.

Details here.

General admission (pit tickets):

Fans can START lining up at the Main Gate at 9:00 AM on show day only and will be given wristbands

Any fans that have camped overnight or arrive before 9:00 AM on Day of Show will NOT be given wristbands and therefore be granted access to the venue AFTER guests with wristbands.

Concourse opens at 5:30 PM.

Pavilion will open at 6:00 PM.

Security will be managing the pit lines and will help everyone get lined up and into the pavilion.

Times are subject to change.

🔆⚠️ HIGH TEMPERATURE ADVISORY ⚠️🔆

Temperatures are expected reach the 90s F (33ºC)!

Hydrate before the show, while waiting in line and during the show

For optimal hydration drink something with electrolytes such as Gatorade or LiquidIV

Wear sunscreen!

Eat well!

Here are important policies:

The venue is CASHLESS! Pay with a card or mobile pay!

Parking: Parking is free. Parking fees are included in the ticket price. VIP Parking is included in all Season Member tickets. Parking info and map here. Public transit info here.

ADA info here 

Cameras: Point and shoot camera are allowed. Professional &/or commercial cameras with interchangeable or detachable lenses are not allowed. Professional cameras, tablets, audio recorders and video recorders are not permitted

Small binoculars allowed

Umbrellas are allowed, except pointed tip umbrellas.

Blankets ALLOWED

Juice boxes ALLOWED only if you have children in your party or for medical needs

Headphones ALLOWED

Knitting needles ALLOWED

Seat cushions ALLOWED

Small radios ALLOWED

Battery operated/ rechargeable, handheld fans ALLOWED

Battery operated coats, gloves, and vests ALLOWED

Beach chairs that are no more than 12 inches from seat to ground, are not in a carrying bag, and do not have compartments.

NO outside food or drinks

NO Animals (except service animals)

NO smoking

NO Aerosol cans (hairspray, mace, pepper spray, etc.)

NO Marijuana or illegal narcotics, including accessories or paraphernalia associated with marijuana or illegal narcotics use

NO glass, plastic or metal containers

NO coolers

NO knives, firearms, mace, pepper spray or weapons of any kind

NO Ipads

NO selfie sticks

NO Noisemaking devices

NO Beach balls or other inflatable items

Food and drinks info here.

There is NO RE-ENTRY!

VIEW VENUE MAP

VIEW SEAT MAP

For more details click here and here

Bag Policy

BAGS, PURSES & CLUTCHES LARGER THAN 4" x 6" x 1.5" ARE PROHIBITED.

SINGLE COMPARTMENT BAGS, WALLETS & CLUTCHES SMALLER THAN 4" x 6" x 1.5" WITH OR WITHOUT A HANDLE OR STRAP ARE PERMITTED.

Exceptions to this policy include:

Bags, wallets and clutches needed due to medical necessity. Medical necessity include Diaper bags, Breast pumps, Oxygen, Insulin, Epi-pens and other medical devices.

Banners, signs and flag policy:

Large Banners and Flags: Guests are not permitted to use or waive flags, banners, signs or other items that are affixed to any pole or stick made of wood, metal, plastic or any other hard material and that is more than 11” x 17” in length.

Contact:

For additional questions please call the venue at 313-471-7000 or 313.471.7425. You can also access their website. Email GuestExperience@olyent.com. Check their twitter here and IG here for updates. Address: 14900 Metro Pkwy., Sterling Heights, MI 48312

[malamiteltd]

Day 13 – And Six Makes Seven

Copper awoke to the sound of the front door knocking. He stumbled out of bed and made his way to the door to answer it. It was Broom, looking up to him with a friendly smile, with the gaming handheld in one hand.

“Hey, Copper!” he said cheerfully. “So I know this might seem a bit out of nowhere, but…well, I guess I was just thinking about you in this empty house of yours…”

Copper shrugged. “It's not so bad.”

“Sure, I suppose it's okay," Broom replied, “but I figured there wasn't a lot to keep you…I dunno, preoccupied? So I figured, maybe I should give this to you!”

Broom took the handheld and extended it to Copper, who looked rather shocked.

“W-wait, are you sure? I mean, this kind of stuff is usually your thing…”

Broom nodded. “Yeah, it's fine! I have the console at home, and that does me fine. Something about just being in that from with that big TV and the shelves of games…it gives me a warm feeling for whatever reason. But you don't really have a TV, and I'm sure the radio is only doing so much…”

Copper was speechless. He slowly reached out and took Broom's handheld. He examined it from all angles, trying to get used to its layout. The last thing he noticed was the cartridge slot, which was empty.

“Now I don't really have a way to get games of your own,” Broom then started, “but I figured I could let you borrow any of the games at my place whenever you wanted.”

“You're…y-you're being very generous with this,” Copper replied. “I don't really want to bother you for the same of borrowing–”

Broom waved his hand dismissively. “It's no trouble at all! Besides, maybe we could get a chance to play more of these games together once you start getting more used to them.” He started to blush. “Admittedly you've been the only other one interested in this stuff, and it's not as fun for you to just watch.”

Copper blushed and smiled. “Thank you.”

Broom nodded. “Now let's see if we can pick out some games you can play. I had thought of some ideas, but I figured it would be better if you picked them out yourself. I might be able to explain some of 'em to you if I recognize them.”

Copper laughed a little. “That's assuming the explanation makes sense. Remember there was that one that was just about crossing the street a bunch of times…”

Broom laughed as well. “True, some of the games have some wild scenarios. But I like to think that's part of their charm.”

Suddenly a portal opened close to the street, not far from where they were standing.

Broom looked at the red portal in fear as he stood behind Copper. “I-is THAT what a portal looks like here?!” He said, trembling a little. “That's terrifying!”

Suddenly a person appeared, leaping out from within the portal and landing in the middle of the road, just as the portal disappeared. The person appeared to be a female fox, wearing glasses and a white lab coat. As she stood up, she started to look around, trying to comprehend her surroundings.

“Something's wrong,” she said to herself. “This is not where I'm supposed to be.”

Broom and Copper looked at her, unsure what to make of this stranger. Hesitantly, Broom waved his arm to get her attention. “H-hello?”

Startled by Broom's call, the stranger raised her arm in front of her, and it suddenly began to change its form. Her arm shaped itself into a laser cannon, and she pointed it toward the two with a serious expression.

“Whoa!” Broom hid behind Copper again. “Don't shoot!”

“What's going on here?” said the stranger. “Are you two responsible for this?”

“No!” Broom shouted, “We got thrown into this world just like you!”

The stranger looked to Copper, who wasn't sure how to react to the situation. She eventually lowered her arm and converted it back to its normal form.

“I apologize,” she finally said. “I'm not quite sure what's going on. My senses seem to be a little disoriented at the moment, and half my battery seems to have drained without explanation.”

Copper thought about what to say. “Have you ever heard of divergent portals?”

The stranger looked confused at first. “Divergent portals?…” Then they suddenly seemed to realize something. “Wait! Is that what happened? The divergent portal theory is real?”

Broom explained the rest of The Situation™ to the stranger…

. . . .

“I see,” the stranger said, “so that explains everything then. I suppose I have to get used to this environment now. Are you the only two here?”

“There are at least two others,” Copper replied. “They're friends.”

“I suppose that's a good thing. I guess on that note, we should make proper introductions.”

Broom nodded. “I'm Broom. This is my friend Copper.”

Copper waved.

The stranger nodded in response. “Call me Holly." She looked over to Broom. “Am I right in assuming you're a Syr'l?”

Broom looked surprised. “Y-yeah, I am! You know about my race?”

“Where I'm from, we recently discovered your kind through our space telescope. Though, the images showed you all wearing…more primitive outfits.”

Broom thought for a moment. “Were they hemp tunics?”

Holly looked surprised. “That's right!”

Broom laughed. “Wow, I don't think I've seen anyone in those in a VERY long time. At least not in my neighborhood.”

“Did your world find anything relating to MY planet?” asked Copper.

Holly shook her head. “I'm afraid not. The discovery of Keshly'm and the native race was pretty recent, and it was a pretty big deal...it was the first time we encountered a functioning society on another planet.”

Suddenly the group heard someone approaching from the distance. They turned to see another fox lady in a white lab coat, accompanied by a short green rabbit. They all stared at each other in silence for a moment.

Holly took off her glasses. “Bits?” Her eyes grew wider. “…Dr. Raz?!”

Bits's ears perked up. “Holly?”

Dr. Raz turned to Bits. “Who's Holly?”

Bits grimaced when he heard this. He turned to see Dr. Raz's reaction, which was one of confusion and concern.

Holly shook her head as she put her glasses in her coat pocket. “I must say, you're very convincing doppelgangers, whoever you are.”

“I'd say the same for you,” Dr. Raz replied. “What brings you and your alien sidekicks here?”

“Sidekicks?” Holly looked over to Copper and Broom. “No, they've got nothing to do with me.”

Broom stepped forward. “But I'm guessing she's got a connection to you, Miss, uh…?”

“Dr. Raz. And I have strong doubts about that.”

“You sure? You do kinda strike me as the type that could make a robot like this.”

Dr. Raz raised an eyebrow. "Robot?”

“Is that really you, Holly?” asked Bits, staring in confusion.

Holly looked at the small rabbit. “Don't play games with me. I don't appreciate it when people try to mimic my family.”

Bits was even more confused. “Huh? I'm not mimicking anyone!”

Holly crossed her arms. “I also don't appreciate when I'm lied to.”

Dr. Raz looked annoyed. “Permit me to ask...what would convince you of my identity?”

Holly thought for a second, then began to approach Dr. Raz. “Let me take a good look at your eyes.”

Dr. Raz took off her glasses and stared at Holly as she got closer, not moving an inch. Holly's eyes suddenly blinked red, and a subtle beeping sound was heard. Then her jaw dropped.

“It...it can't be...”

“Well, that sounds like you're convinced, anyway.” Dr. Raz put her glasses back on and turned her attention to Copper and Broom. “Anything else I need to know about this robot?”

Copper scratched his head. “Well, she converted her arm into a cannon and threatened to shoot us...”

Dr. Raz was stunned to hear this. Her look of surprise quickly turned to one of skepticism. “Well, you're right that I'm able to make a robot like this. But I never installed any weaponry in any of the robots I made.”

“But Doc,” Bits said, “what about the Frazzgadget?”

Dr. Raz shook her head. “That's not an installation, that's equipment.” She then turned back to Holly. “I don't know who made you, but I don't appreciate the mockery you make of my inventions.”

Holly was confused, and a bit worried. “Doctor, wait...I didn't mean to–”

“Stop.” Dr. Raz raised her finger, looking at Holly sternly. “I'm getting to the bottom of this, one way or another. Enable Basic Mode.”

Holly looked very nervous when she heard this. “B-basic Mode requires a security phrase to access.”

“Understood.” Dr. Raz responded without hesitation.

“Please say the security phrase.”

“Kestry’el Zeta Ghemako.”

Suddenly Holly assumed a standing position. Her eyes began to glow red, and she presented a lifeless neutral expression.

“Access granted. Currently in Basic Mode.”

Holly’s voice changed to a simple synthesized voice. 

Dr. Raz nodded. “So this truly is one of my robots…”

Broom was irked at this sudden change. “Wh-what’s this about?”

“Basic Mode forces my robot to accept manual commands and inquiries from me. It’s pretty much how my older robot models worked exclusively.”

“How did you know this mode existed in this one?” asked Copper.

“I had one robot that operated on a new variation of artificial intelligence. It was meant to work primarily through its own thoughts and feelings, and when it’s given that amount of potential freedom, there’s always a chance that something could go wrong. The Basic Mode was installed in her root data so that it will override the AI and allow me access to her information uncontested.”

“And she can’t just deny you access to the option?”

“Correct. The access cannot be circumvented when I ask for the option.”

Broom scratched his head. “I guess that’s why she looked nervous when you brought it up. She can’t control herself when in this mode, so anything could happen to her and she’d have no way to stop it. Not even her own voice…”

Dr. Raz adjusted her glasses. “That’s technically true. But all I’m looking for right now is information, and in this mode she will provide that in a straightforward manner.” She turned to Holly. “Please state your identity.”

“Raz Renard Robot Model 6, firmware version 92.11.6.”

“It’s Number Six…” Dr. Raz said in response, slightly surprised.

Holly continued:

“Name designation: ‘Holly!’”

When Holly recited the name, it was a recording of someone else’s voice. Dr. Raz raised her eyebrows, recognizing the voice. Bits recognized the voice too…it was his voice. He swallowed hard as he turned to Dr. Raz, who glared at him.

She turned her attention to Holly again. “Number Six, please tell me when that name was designated.”

“The name: ‘Holly!’ was designated on date 2178-7-12.”

Dr. Raz turned to Bits again, looking very angry. “That was a week ago.”

Bits trembled. “W-w-well…uhhh, I–”

Dr. Raz’s face started to turn red. “You were tampering with Number Six in the basement, even after I explicitly told you not to the week before that!”

“B-b-but Doc, I–OW!!”

Bits was suddenly hit over the head with a wooden spoon, which Dr. Raz retrieved from her coat pocket.

“Why did you disobey me?” she shouted angrily.

Bits rubbed his head where the spoon hit him. “Because…because I was…”

“Because you were what? Curious? Bored?”

Bits sighed. “Because I was lonely.”

Dr. Raz was taken aback. “Lonely…? But...I allowed you to stay in my lab! I made it your home!”

“But...you don't talk very much,” Bits replied. “And when you're busy with your science stuff I…I don't really have much else to do. I found Holly in the basement, charging like the other robots upstairs, and I…well, I figured she might be lonely too. She was all by herself down there. And...she was definitely confused as to why you cut your first chat with her very short…”

Dr. Raz sighed. “She began to ask some…personal questions. Ones that I was uncomfortable to answer. I panicked and cut off the power…” She took a deep breath. “I wasn't sure why she wanted to know so much about me.”

Broom shrugged. “Maybe she was curious too.”

Dr. Raz cleared her throat. “In any case, she was still in a testing phase. The chat we had was via text messages; she wasn't fully activated yet. And I wasn't sure what she could end up doing if I did."

“There must've been a lot of adjustments to make," Broom replied, "considering you had to make so many firmware updates.”

This statement suddenly made Dr. Raz's eyes grow wider. She completely missed that detail. “Wait…what did she say her firmware version was?”

Copper shrugged. “It was 90-something, I think.”

“The last update I remember giving her was version 5…" Dr. Raz turned to Holly again. “Number S–”

“Holly,” Bits interrupted.

Dr. Raz sighed. “...Holly. Please tell me the last date you have registered in your memory.”

“The most recent registered date is 2355-9-7.”

Dr. Raz's jaw dropped. “2355?!”

Broom was surprised. “Wait, is that Earth years? That's almost 200 years in the past!”

Dr. Raz turned to Broom. “It's almost 200 years in MY FUTURE!”

Bits was amazed at this revelation. “Whoa…Holly’s a time traveler?”

Dr. Raz quickly regained her composure. “No, Bits. It seems this world can pull people from different times as well as different universes. The, um…alien rabbit just said he may be from about 400 years in the future.” She looked to Broom. “I suppose I never got the names of you and your friend. My apologies, as this development with Holly was…overwhelming.”

Broom nodded. “It’s fine. My name is Broom, and my friend's name is Copper.”

Copper waved. “Hi.”

“I presume you two are from different planets,” Dr. Raz replied, studying the two visually.

“Yeah,” Broom said, “but our races seem to have some parallels in regards to what we can do.”

Copper looked away. “At least in most cases…”

Broom turned to Copper. “Ah, right. Copper’s considered pretty special among fervals.”

Dr. Raz raised an eyebrow. “Fervals?”

“Yeah… As best as I can describe it, fervals are a class of animal whose bodies produce more energy than their bodies can usually contain. The excess usually floats around us and we use our minds to control it for different stuff. That energy usually acts like a sorta mix of fire and electricity.”Broom looked up to his tall friend. “But Copper…his energy’s almost entirely electricity-like, so he can’t do certain ferval stuff…but he’s apparently capable of other abilities the rest of his kind have never seen before.”

Dr. Raz was taking notes. “Fascinating…”

Copper shrugged. “I still don’t know much about it. The fact that no one else knows anything about it just makes me feel like that much more of an oddball.”

“I’d like to find out more about you and your friend later,” Dr. Raz said as she put her notepad away. “The notion that you can manipulate the excess energy your body emits suggests–”

“Doc,” Bits interjected, pulling on her coat. “What about Holly?”

“Oh, right!” Dr. Raz turned back to Holly. “Alright, Holly. Resume Standard Mode.”

Holly suddenly shook. Her eyes returned to normal and her body moved naturally once again.

“You could’ve asked me those questions in Standard Mode, Doctor,” she said in a sad tone. “I would’ve been willing to answer…”

“I had doubts when these two informed me you had weapons installed,” Dr. Raz responded. “It would not have surprised me if you were in fact some knock-off robot someone made after stealing my research. It wouldn’t be the first time someone pulled that on me…”

Holly nodded. “So I recall. My apologies, Doctor…”

“I’m just amazed that it’s YOU, Number Six. Did I not make any other robot models in your line?”

“I was the last one,” Holly responded. “Ever since I was…brought into your little family, you’ve focused on upgrading me as much as possible over the years.”

Dr. Raz was confused. “‘Brought into my family?’ What do you mean?”

Holly looked at her hands. “Well, at some point you started to look at me less like a robot assistant and…more like a daughter. It made me feel like I was something…someone special to you. Seeing you again with your skepticism and distrust…it feels like whiplash. But considering the details, I can’t be surprised.”

Dr. Raz nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry…Holly. But the sudden change in my quality of life has shaken me to my core. I felt like all I’ve worked towards—everything I’ve worked on—has been taken from me. The fact that at least one of my…‘RazBots’ has now joined me is at least a little comforting.”

Holly nodded. “I’ll do whatever I can to help, Doctor. But…please don’t put me into Basic Mode again.”

Dr. Raz was silent for a moment. “...I don’t know if I can make that promise. But…I promise I will only use it as a last resort.”

Holly closed her eyes in disappointment. “I suppose that’s the best I’ll get from you at the moment… So what now?”

Dr. Raz looked at Holly. “Well, considering you originate from a far-off future, you’ve obviously had a lot of modifications and adjustments applied to you. I’d like to take the opportunity to study these modifications myself. I’m just not sure what tools I’ll need to access them yet…”

Holly looked uncomfortable. “A-actually, Doctor, I think it would be a better idea for me to evaluate you and Bits. It might be important to find out whether traveling to this world may have altered your physical and/or mental well-being.”

Dr. Raz was confused, but intrigued. “How would you know if anything is out of the ordinary?”

“I’ve performed these health evaluations before,” she responded, “and I have all the evaluations I’ve made over the years stored in my memory. I can just match what I find today with an evaluation from the appropriate time frame and make comparisons.”

Dr. Raz thought about this for a moment. Eventually, she nodded in agreement. “Alright, we’ll go with that. Will it take long?”

“It might,” Holly answered. “I need to make new files for you and Bits; you’re not gonna be the same Dr. Raz and Bits I’m familiar with, and I don’t want to risk overriding the old files either.”

Dr. Raz shook her head. “Very well. But I’d prefer to do this in the privacy of my…home.”

Holly nodded. “Of course, Doctor. It wouldn’t be proper to perform the evaluation out here, considering what some of the steps will demand.”

Dr. Raz suddenly blushed bright red. “How comprehensive IS your examination?!”

“Doctor, it’s a procedure YOU put together. It was designed to get all the necessary data for the subject in question.”

“I see… The procedure I must’ve used for Bits and those aliens I encountered a few years ago…”

“Anyone we’d know?” asked Broom.

“I highly doubt it,” Dr. Raz answered, “considering there’s a 400-year difference between your existence and theirs.”

Broom rubbed the back of his head. “Ah, right…”

“Alright, Holly, I suppose we should get this over with.” Dr. Raz directed Holly towards her home, and they walked together, with Bits following close behind. “I am curious to know what has happened as the years went on.”

“Of course, Doctor. I’ll tell you whatever you wish to know, to the best of my ability…”

As the others walked to Raz’s home, Broom and Copper looked at each other, unsure what to make of what they just experienced.

“So they’re our new neighbors, huh…” said Broom, placing his hands on his hips.

��Are they friends?” asked Copper. “I can’t really tell with the doctor.”

Broom shrugged. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see. At least I don’t sense anything bad from them…”

They were both lost in thought for a few minutes.

“OH!” Broom suddenly realized something. “We were gonna find some games for you!”

Copper’s antennae perked up. “Ah, right! That whole situation kinda threw us both off, I guess.”

“Let’s go take a look,” said Broom. “I know the other day I stumbled across a game you might find interesting. Ironically, it features a robot with an arm cannon…”

[abellinthecupboard]

How to Go to Dinner with a Brother on Drugs

If he's wearing knives for eyes, if he's dressed for a Day of the Dead parade— three-piece skeleton suit, cummerbund of ribs— his pelvic girdle will look like a Halloween mask. The bones, he'll complain, make him itch. Each ulna a tingle. His mandible might tickle. If he cannot stop scratching, suggest that he change, but not because he itches—do it for the scratching, do it for the bones. Okay, okay, he'll give in, I'll change. He'll go back upstairs, and as he climbs away, his back will be something else—one shoulder blade a failed wing, the other a silver shovel. He hasn't eaten in years. He will never change. Be some kind of happy he didn't appear dressed as a greed god—headdress of green quetzal feathers, jaguar loincloth littered with bite-shaped rosettes— because tonight you are not in the mood to have your heart ripped out. It gets old, having your heart ripped out, being opened up that way. Your brother will come back down again, this time dressed as a Judas effigy. I know, I know, he'll joke. It's not Easter. So what? Be straight with him. Tell him the truth. Tell him, Judas had a rope around his neck. When he asks if an old lamp cord will do, just shrug. He'll go back upstairs, and you will be there, close enough to the door to leave, but you won't. You will wait, unsure of what you are waiting for. Wait for him in the living room of your parents' home-turned-misery-museum. Visit the perpetual exhibits: Someone Is Tapping My Phone, Como Deshacer a Tus Padres, Jesus Told Me To, and Mon Frère— ten, twenty, forty dismantled phones dissected on the dining table: glinting snarls of copper, sheets of numbered buttons, small magnets, jagged, ruptured shafts of lithium batteries, empty 2-literes of Diet Coke with dirty tubing snaking from the necks, shells pof Ataris, radios, television sets, and the Electrolux, all cracked up like dark nuts, innards heaped across the floor. And your pick for Best of Show: Why Dad Can't Find the Lightbulbs— a hundred glowing bells of gutted lightbulbs, each rocking in a semicircle on the counter beneath Mom's hanging philodendron. Your parents' home will look like an al-Qaeda yard sale. It will look like a bomb factory, which might give you hope, if there were such a thing. You are not so lucky— there is no fuse here for you to find. Not long ago, your brother lived with you. You called it, One last shot, a three-quarter-court heave, a buzzer-beater to win something of him back. But who were you kidding? You took him in with no grand dreams of salvation, but only to ease the guilt of never having tried. He spent his nights in your bathroom with a turquoise BernzOmatic handheld propane torch, a Merlin mixing magic, then shape-shifting into lions, and tigers, and bears, Oh fuck, pacing your balcony like Borges' blue tiger, fighting the cavalry in the moon, conquering night with his blue flame, and plotting to steal your truck keys, hidden under your pillow. Finally, you found the nerve to ask him to leave, so he took his propane torch and left you with his meth pipe ringing in the dryer. Now, he's fresh-released from Rancho Cucamonga— having traveled the Mojave Trail in chains— living with your parents, and you have come to take him to dinner—because he is your brother, because you heard he was cleaning up, because dinner is a thing with a clear beginning and end, a measured amount of time, a ritual everyone knows, even your brother. Sit down. Eat. Get up. Go home. Holler upstairs to your brother to hurry. He won't come right away. Remember how long it took the Minotaur to escape the labyrinth. Your father will be in the living room, too, sitting in a rocking chair in the dark, wearing his luchador mask—he is El Santo. His face is pale. His face is bone-white. His eyes are hollow teardrops. His mouth a dark, O— He is still surprised by what his life has become. Don't dare think about unmasking your father. His mask is the only fight he has left. He is bankrupt of planchas and topes. He has no more huracanranas to give. Leave him to imagine himself jumping over the top rope, out of the ring, running off, his silver-masked head cutting the night like a butcher knife. When your brother finally appears, the lamp cord knotted at his neck should do the trick, so leave to the restaurant. It will be hard to look at him in the truck, dressed as a Judas effigy. Don't forget, a single match could devour him like a neon tooth, canopying him in a bright tent of pain— press the truck's lighter into the socket. Meth—his singing sirens, his jealous jinn conjuring up sandstorms within him, his Harpy harem—has sucked the beauty from his face. He is a Cheshire cat, a gang of grins. His new face all jaw, all smile and bite. Look at your brother—he is Borges' bestiary. He is a zoo of imaginary beings. Your brother's jaw is a third passenger in the truck— it flexes in the wind coming in through the window, resetting and rehinging, opening and closing against its will. It will occur to you your brother is a beat-down, dubbed Bruce Lee— his words do not match his mouth, which is moving faster and faster. You have the fastest brother alive. Your brother's lips are ruined. There is a sore in the right corner of his mouth. My teeth hurt, he says. He will ask to go to the IHS dentist. At a stoplight, you are forced to look into his mouth—it is Švankmajer's rabbit hole— you have been lost in it for the last ten years. Pull into the restaurant parking lot. Your brother will refuse to wear his shoes. Judas was barefoot, he will tell you. Judas wore sandals, you answer. No, Jesus wore sandals, he'll argue. Maybe one day you will laugh at this— arguing with a meth head dressed like a Judas effigy about Jesus' sandals. Your brother will still itch when you are seated at your table. He will rake his fork against his skin. Look closer—his skin is a desert. Half a red racer is writhing along his forearm. A migration of tarantulas moves like a shadow over his sunken cheeks. Every time the waitress walks by, he licks his lips at her. He tells you, then her, that he can taste her. Hope she ignores him. Pretend not to hear what he says. Also ignore the cock crowing inside him. But if he notices you noticing, Don't worry, he'll assure you, The dogs will get it. Which Dogs? You have to ask. Then he'll point out the window at two dugs humping in the empty lot across the way. Go ahead. Tell him. Those are not dogs, you'll say. Those are chupacabras. Chupacabras are not real, he'll tell you, brothers are. And he'll be right. The reflection in your empty plate will speak, Your brother is on drugs again. You are at a dinner neither of you can eat. Consider your brother: he is dressed as a Judas effigy. When the waitress takes your order, your brother will ask for a beer. You will pour your thirty pieces of silver onto the table and ask, What can I get for this?

— Natalie Diaz, When My Brother Was an Aztec (2012)

[themagician0801]

Tarot class and ICOM 705

My Tarot classes are done for the Spring, and will resume in the Fall.

ICOM 705 load plan for my two trips this summer is done.  Found an excellent camera case for the ICOM 705 which I can take as carry on in the plane.  Will also take my Yaesu handheld with spare battery and charging cord.  Radios will have their batteries out.  The Chameleon 3.0 antenna will neatly fit in checked in suitcase.

Have learned more so far.  The ICOM 705 is tricky to learn and experimenting needed.  Have not had my first contact yet.  I am pushing 10 watts plugged in power strip.  Many incoming from very far, probably due to them pushing high wattage;  one from Ft Worth Texas and operator stated was pushing 850  watts with a 30 foot tower.  I prefer the true QRP approach which is a challenge, using low wattage for contacts.  Have learned how to set repeaters on 10 meters.

Have placed a memory card and reformatted it to the ICOM 705.  That was not explained in a video-the card has to be formatted before it can be used.