#Hell's Canyon

[orbo-cinemagraphs-world-blog]

A Heavenly day in Hell's Canyon. source https://vimeo.com/218353920

[shadowwalkerimagines]

Hell’s Canyon: 2

『 Hell’s Canyon: Run 1, Day 2: Awkward 』 Undertale - Convergent Mob AU | Sans (Various) / You; Papyrus (Various) / You; Reader Insert; Second-Person Point of View

Rating: M | Warnings for this fic: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dark Fic, Dark Themes, Kidnapping, Drug Use, Non-consensual Drug Use, Obsessive Behavior, Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Imbalance

Summary: Hell’s Canyon is a city plagued by crime and poverty. You moved here a few years ago, intent on following your dreams and bettering your career—you had no plans to linger any longer than necessary, after all, but... This city doesn’t just let people go. Especially not when you manage to catch the eye of those that run Hell’s underbelly.

You better make the right decisions if you want to make it out of this city in one piece.

At the end of each update Readers are presented with a choice. It’s up to you to make the right one.

You need to make a decision. Do you…

► [Check the suite?]

[Go home?]

As much as you would like to just turn around and ditch this stupidly suspicious errand, you can’t write off the possibility that this really is an urgent delivery.

You grumble a few expletives and colorful insults before snatching up the envelope and exiting your vehicle with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. The slamming of your car door is certainly uncalled for.  “Just drop it off and then go home,” you narrate to yourself. “Drop it off, finish this stupid, fishy little errand and then it’s cake time.”

Walking onto the sidewalk, you trail along the suites, silently musing that this place could honestly pass for a roadside motel. The setup certainly shares similarities, what with the generic door and adjacent window combination.

13, 14, 15, 16, 17… and 18.

You are stopped before a door no more and no less embellished than all the others. The window is closed and the blinds are shut, so you have no clue as to what lies within. There is no signage, no nameplate or anything to indicate the setup inside but you are almost done. Just one small step and then you will be free to indulge in cakey goodness!

You reach for the doorknob and twist, pushing the door open. You are immediately hit with the all too recognizable scent of cigarette smoke and something else you can’t quite put your finger on. Switching to breathing through your mouth, you take note of the cramped room before you.

There is a surprising amount of clutter in the form of cardboard boxes and plastic containers stacked against the walls and in the middle of the room, reaching nearly floor to ceiling. There is a man standing before you, hunched over as he reaches for a box, and you don’t miss the way his hand starts reaching for his waist as he watches you.

“Who’re you?” he grumbles out, eyes narrowing as he shifts to stand. “Ain’t expectin’ no one today.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Did Robert write down the wrong address? Are you about to get yourself killed? Trying to stamp down your panic, you stumble out,

“I’m uh… I’m here for Bobbie?”

When the guy begins to frown, you hastily present the envelope, all the while cursing Robert and yourself for agreeing to this. You should have known better!

With the cramped quarters it only takes the man a couple steps to reach you and rip the envelope from your quickly sweating palm. He thankfully abandons whatever he had been reaching for at his waist.

The man easily rips the envelope open and you are surprised to find only a single sheet had been inside. You watch as he scans it, tongue clicking in unveiled annoyance, before tossing it over his shoulder. You watch as it flutters to the floor and ignore the unhelpful image your mind supplies of you similarly following its lead.

“Piece of shit…” he grumbles, his attention immediately returning to you. You hope you didn’t jump at his grumble, chalking it off to your overactive mind. One thing you can’t ignore, however, is just how like a rabbit being appraised by a wolf you feel.

You are struck with the thought that you should have turned around when you had the chance.

Just as muscles tense in your legs and you prepare yourself to run, the guy clicks his tongue again and growls, “What, ya got somethin’ else for me?” At the startled shake of your head he snarls, “Well hurry up ‘n get your ass outta here then!”

You don’t need to be told twice.

In a blur, you are out of the cramped room and speed walking back to your car. You don’t remember grabbing your keys but they are already in hand, teeth biting into your skin from how tight your grip is.

The drive home is a blur as you pour all your focus on driving. It is not until you have parked in the driveway of your rental and are behind the relative safety of the immediately locked security door and bulky front door that you feel you are able to breathe.

What in the hell had that been about?

God, you are going to rip into Robert tomorrow for lying because there is no way in hell what you just partook in had anything to do with your job. Something churns, heavy and sickening, in your gut at the thought you might have taken part in some kind of illegal act. But no, no that couldn’t be, despite how utterly suspicious that exchange and man had been. Robert probably just has a questionable taste in friends.  Just because crime has been on the rise and Hell’s Canyon has never been known to be a “safe” city, to assume every intimidating tough guy you meet might be part of some kind of crime ring is stereotyping! You had only handed off a sheet of paper, what sort of nefariousness could possibly be tied to that?

Once again you tell yourself Robert is just a shitty guy with equally shitty friends. And absolutely no more “helpful” errand runs for the asshole, absolutely not. Besides, you have better things to do with your time—like stuff yourself with an entire mini chocolate cake! If you didn’t deserve it before, you sure as hell do now.

* * *

When you go in to work the following day you are curious to note that Emma is working the office. That’s rare these days, she is usually off covering the affiliate building; she only ever comes when she is needed to cover another supervisor’s shift.

“Good morning,” you greet her, perplexed. You had spent the entire drive to work building yourself up to tear Robert a new one and he doesn’t even show up?

“Hey,” she returns, “I’m filling in for Rob today, bastard no-called.” At your quirked eyebrow and narrowed gaze, she gives a tight lipped tilt of her head, eyebrows raised as she glances off to the side. “Yup. I don’t know how he keeps his position either but you know. Sucking Joe off on the weekends probably has its perks.”

At your wide-eyed stare and startled, “oh my god,” Emma promptly waves it off.

“C’mon, everyone thinks it. How else would a schmuck like him have gotten hired?” You flush and peek around in a panic—the shop hasn’t even opened and you are the only two in the building at the moment but your paranoia has you on high alert regardless. You had forgotten how uh... “colorful” Emma’s manner of speech is. “Look,” she nonchalantly continues, purposefully ignorant of how gobsmacked you are, “if I could setup a similar deal with Bee, I’d lay myself at her feet in a heartbeat any day of the week.”

You fidget in place. As much as you prefer Emma to Robert, you are quite sure this is not the kind of discussion to have or language to use at work. What if someone overhears? You certainly don’t need a write-up further hindering your plans. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop for now,” Emma relents with a good-natured chuckle, graciously deciding to cut you a break. “I’ll be in the office if you need me. I trust you don’t need any help opening?”

“Yeah, I’m good!” you all but yell, eager to be free of the uncomfortable exchange. Judging by the heat you can feel radiating from your face, you must be incredibly flushed.

Thankfully the woman leaves you be and you set about getting the money from the safe and the till ready. As awkward and painful as that was, it was still loads preferable to the alternative.

It is just as you prepare to turn on the shop’s heavy machinery, with still about ten minutes to go until opening, that you hear a knock at the shop’s glass door—three quick and sharp raps.

Whoever could that be? You…

[Answer the door]

[Ignore it—they can wait until you open.]

[vintagecamping]

A group of cowboys gaze into Hells Canyon.

Memaloose State Park

1955

[something-about-sunflowers]

OFMD fandom:

Stop minimizing the severity of harm and manipulation that happens to people in cults by comparing a small fandom subgroup (literally, there are fewer than you're imagining) to cults. Stop acting like people disagreeing with YOU means they're incapable of seeing another point of view. Stop acting like people disagreeing with you is somehow policing you. Stop. . . just. Stop.

For the love of all that is good and joyful in this world just. If you don't want to see Izzy fans or the Canyon then just. Stop. Leave them the fuck alone. Get out of those tags. Stop commenting on their posts. Stop sending them rude shit (or ANY shit) in their ask boxes. Stop making up hypothetical Izzy fans/Canyonites to get mad at. Go get mad at your boss or your government officials or something actually productive instead.

I do genuinely wonder if the more normal people in the fandom see any of this and like. Question this behavior because. Like. Jesus fucking christ.

[hammared-moods]

New Mexico Dreams

photos and edits mine

[freelancer-saga]

friendly reminder that tucker knowing how to dance and being good at it is canon

headcanon that tucker was definitely dancing when no one was looking / when everyone was busy, or asleep

[tannerwendellstewart]

Hat point Lookout. Hells Canyon. Wallowa County. Oregon. The deepest canyon in North America.

[californiaquail]

CALIFORNIA QUAIL SPOTTED JHHFFGGHGGFFD

[kracovx]

Redemption

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

im havign shrimp emotions

[eopederson2]

Shed, Snake River in Hells Canyon, Idaho, 2012.

The Snake above Lewiston is somewhat navigable, and at one time ranchers used it to ship cattle to market.

[shadowwalkerimagines]

Hell’s Canyon

『 Hell’s Canyon: Run 1, Day 1: It’s You 』 Undertale - Convergent Mob AU | Sans (Various) / You; Papyrus (Various) / You; Reader Insert; Second-Person Point of View

Rating: M | Warnings for this fic: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dark Fic, Dark Themes, Kidnapping, Drug Use, Non-consensual Drug Use, Obsessive Behavior, Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Imbalance

Summary: Hell’s Canyon is a city plagued by crime and poverty. You moved here a few years ago, intent on following your dreams and bettering your career—you had no plans to linger any longer than necessary, after all, but... This city doesn’t just let people go. Especially not when you manage to catch the eye of those that run Hell’s underbelly.

You better make the right decisions if you want to make it out of this city in one piece.

At the end of each update Readers are presented with a choice. It’s up to you to make the right one.

It has almost been five years (that’s half a decade) since you moved here and you find yourself regretting the decision more and more with each passing day. You had told yourself it would be temporary—just a quick stint while you worked towards a better position and a comfortable cushion in your bank account; surely a better opportunity in a better location would open up soon! But oh, had you been so blindingly naïve back then—not yet jaded by corrupt management, nepotism, and the extent people will go to to ensure they come out on top. Five years and so many opportunities for advancement you have been passed over. Empty words and sorry attempts at sympathy replay in your mind—

“Oh, I’m sorry dear, you just don’t have the right experience.”

“You’re just not what we’re lookin’ for right now. Maybe give it a go next time.”

“He’s just more knowledgeable in this subject matter than you; you understand, don’t you?”

You crumple the paper in your hand and toss it in the garbage. If you slammed the lid down a little too forcefully… well, it’s not like there’s anyone around to judge you for it.

You might have only read the first line but you didn’t need to read anything else. It would just be more empty words anyway.

Rejection was still rejection, no matter how nicely it was fluffed up.

* * *

There is only a half hour left before your shift is over and as you watch the hands tick ever so studiously across the face of the clock, you find your mind drifting to the mini chocolate cake packed away in the back of your fridge. You had gotten it as a little treat to yourself on your grocery run, a cheap little $5 thing from the grocery store bakery, but after today… well, you were most definitely looking forward to treating yourself.

A day full of dealing with self centered customers and coworkers that seemingly have nothing better to do than pass their work on to you really wears on a person.

You most definitely would be taking the opportunity to treat yourself! Now if only time would hurry up.

“Hey there, Trouble!” comes the voice of your coworker, causing your mood to immediately plummet. Not this asshole again. You try (and ultimately fail) to hide your disgruntled expression at the man you had been passed over for a full time position, who was then quickly promoted to a supervisory role. How the lazy, corner cutting piece of—no. No. Stop. Take a breath and calm down. Don’t let him know how much he gets under your skin.

“What is it, Robert?”

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that! How many times’ve I gotta tell you to just call be Rob?”

You purse your lips as the man immediately invades your bubble to slap a hand around your shoulder, his palm grasping at your shoulder, pulling you against him. You immediately slip out from under him. He’s always been annoyingly “friendly”—invasively so. You’re sure that’s how he managed to weasel his way into his position, despite all the errors and half assed jobs he would inevitably push onto you.

“I don’t know, Robert, but you can add one more to the count. What do you want?” You pointedly look towards the clock and thankfully, as dense as the man pretends to be, he catches on.

“I know, I know,” he shrinks in on himself and you just know he’s about to ask for a favor. You’re about to give him a firm and solid “No,” but he starts back up before you have the chance. “I forgot we had a really important order for a customer that was due for delivery today but Naomi already left and this has to be dropped off today—no exceptions.”

“Okay?” You quirk a brow, entirely unsympathetic. Surely he’s not asking you to take it on.

The silence that stretches along with the pathetic pleading expression he gives you is answer enough.

“No way,” you sigh out, running a hand over your face and pulling it through your hair. “I’m done in a half hour, that’s nowhere near enough time to make a delivery and make it back in time.” Even with as good a brownnoser Robert is, even he has never been able to hold any sway over Deb and her ironclad control of ensuring people clock in and out on time. “Aw, c’mon,” he pleads, “you can take your own car and just head straight home after the delivery—I’ll clock you out!” When you frown and narrow your eyes at him, he goes so far as to clasp his hands together. “Pleeeease??? I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”

Yeah, like you haven’t heard that one a hundred times before. Another glance at the clock and you notice it somehow hasn’t even been five minutes. You heave a heavy sigh. It has been a pretty slow day, Robert could handle whatever came up in what little time remained (and if you gave a silent plea for the world’s most self-entitled, unreasonable customer with the most asinine of orders to come in… well, no one would know). You draw in a slow, heavy breath, hold it for a beat, and then breathe it out with a, “fine.”

It takes all your inner strength to keep from rolling your eyes at the little “whoop!” and jump Robert does. It’s not like you agreed to this with altruistic intentions—it’s the only way to ensure he will leave you alone.

“Great!” he explains at the same time he pulls a rather crumpled and crinkled looking envelope from his back pocket. He stuffs it in your hands and all but shoves you towards the back office, where your bag and the back door are. “The address is written on the envelope, just tell them you’re there for Bobbie!”

And the next thing you know, you’re standing in front of your car, a crinkled envelope in one hand and your bag in the other. You shake your head and blink a few times to clear the daze that overcame you, and proceed to fish out your keys.

“What in the hell was that about?” Sure the man always seemed to run on high but even for him that was a bit overly pushy. You ultimately decide to shrug it off, not nearly invested enough in the man to know the answer, as you get seated and remind yourself that Robert has always been weird. The sooner you get this delivery sorted, the sooner you can get to that cake waiting for you at home.

You cast a glance at the curiously beaten up envelope, squint at it, but when it doesn’t whisper the secrets of the universe to you, decide it’s not worth your job to pry.

* * *

You pull up to an unsettlingly empty looking strip mall. The parking lot is empty save for a stray car or two and most of the shop fronts have missing or damaged signage.

“Uh… did I get the address wrong?” With anxiety rising, you grab the beaten up envelope and read the address: 2435 Market Plaza, Suite 18. Staring back to the desolate shop fronts you acknowledge that it looks right… straight down to the numbers adjacent to each door. You’re sat in front of 12... there’s 13, 14, 15...

Something prickles along the back of your neck. Is Robert playing some kind of sick joke on you?

You need to make a decision. Do you…

[Check the suite?]

[Go home?]

[by13x]

Melvin Macabre x Oninbo

Evil bugs are tasty snacks

[takemetotheastralagain]

My largest giant canyon isopod is out!!

[ao3-oner]

If Canyon plays even one (1) game of Viego at MSI, I will be changing the title of "My Heart is Going to Pop" to "Heartbreaker"

[zzoomacroom]

I'm so glad I have no idea what's going on with Izzy fans