#I power up an excavator; I use my 4

[skullzy20]

ok I found a good frame to use but I still gave up because this takes too long to do solo

the grendel farm makes me experience pain I never thought possible

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: parrotfish

Which fish hangs out on a mermaid pirate's shoulder and repeats what she says in a high-pitched voice? The parrotfish, of course. Or at least in fiction they should (certainly will in my D&D world). But even in real life, parrotfish are still pretty interesting.

(Image: a common parrotfish (Scarus psittacus) seen from the side in front of rocks and corals. It is a brightly-colored fish, mainly light blue but with patches and stripes of yellow and pink on the fins. Its mouth is open, revealing what appears to be a beak. End ID)

Parrotfish are fish famous for their mouths and eating habits. There are about 90 species known. While they were historically considered their own taxonomic family, they have since been reclassified a subset of the wrasse family and there is still some debate on how to classify them. Most species are on the smaller size, but a few can get very large. The largest species is the green humphead parrotfish (Bolbometopon muricatum) at 1.5 meters (4.9 ft) and 75 kg (165 lbs) while the smallest species is the bluelip parrotfish (Cryptotomus roseus) reaching 13 cm (5 in). I could not find an average weight for the bluelips. What makes parrotfish really stand out visually is their colors and their mouths. Most species are very brightly colored, with distinct markings and males are usually more brightly colored than females. Their mouths are dominated by what appear to be beaks, which gave them their common name. These beaks are actually made of approximately 1,000 teeth arranged in 15 rows. As the teeth wear out, they drop off and are replaced by the row behind them. The teeth are made of fluorapatite, the second hardest biomineral int the world. To support their hardness, the fluorapatite crystals that make up the teeth are woven together in a structure very similar to chainmail, resulting in very hard teeth that measure in at a 5 on the Mohs scale of hardness. For reference, iron is a 4 and higher numbers are harder. The teeth can also handle 530 tons of pressure. You could put the weight of 200 black rhinos on a tooth and it would be fine. The beaks are powerful enough to bite through rock. Which is what they use it for, but more on that below. Another unusual feature of parrotfish is how they sleep. Some species make their own sleeping bags, which would be adorable if they weren't made of mucus. The mucus is produced using glands in the gills and looks like a transparent bubble. The fish sleeps in the mucus cocoon and when it wakes up, it eats the cocoon. There have been several proposed benefits of the cocoon. It contains chemicals that harm skin parasites while also providing a barrier that keeps new parasites from reaching the fish. It also likely blocks the fish's scent, helping it hide from predators.

(Image: a green humphead parrotfish (Bolbometopon muricatum) swimming over yellow coral. It is large and mostly a uniform green color, except for the front of its head, which is pink. It has a large, fleshy lump on the top of its head. End ID)

(Image: a close-up of a parrotfish's beak. The top and bottom beaks are divided into two halves, left and right. The beak is bade of small, circular teeth that overlap each other. End ID)

(Image: another common parrotfish seen from the front. It is inside of a mucus cocoon, which appears as a transparent bubble around the fish. Bits of sand dot the cocoon's surface. End ID)

Parrotfish live worldwide, though the majority of species are found in the Indo-Pacific. They live in warm, shallow waters with lots of rocky reefs, especially coral reefs. They use those powerful teeth to eat and what they eat most is algae. There are three main types of feeding behavior: excavating, scraping, and browsing. Excavators bite into rocks to get their food, scrapers crape food off of the surface of the rocks, and browsers go after larger food sources like seagrass and sponges. Some of the larger parrotfish species also make coral a large part of their diet. When they eat, they naturally get rock in their mouths, moreso in excavators. Because their food clings to the rock, spitting the rocks out would deny them food. Instead, parrotfish use pharyngeal teeth set in their throats to grind the rock into sand, which then passes through the digestive tract. When it exists the digestive tract, it is in the form of fine grains of rock. Or to put it another way, parrotfish eat rock and poop sand. A single parrotfish can produce up to 40 kg (88lbs) of sand yearly, and bigger species can produce even more than that. The process of rock being broken down by living things is called bioerosion and parrotfish are one of the most famous sources of bioerosion. The sand they produce can serve as the basis for new growth of coral or other species and helps reinforce nearby islands. In places like Hawai'i, the Caribbean, and the Maldives, it's estimated that up to 80% of the famous white sand is produced by parrotfish and they serve as a major source of incoming earth to support the islands. This makes parrotfish ecosystem engineers. Their eating of algae is also majorly important to their ecosystems. Algae can overgrow and smother delicate ecosystems like coral reefs and seagrass beds and decaying algae draws oxygen out of the water. Parrotfish help the health of their environments by keeping the algae population at healthy levels. Parrotfish also eat seaweeds and sponges that grow much faster than coral and can smother coral reefs. Parrotfish are considered keystone species in many reefs, including the great barrier reef and their population dropping correlates with reduced health of reefs. Damaged reefs tent to have larger parrotfish populations and those populations drop as the reef recovers.

(Image: a group of many parrotfish feeding on coral. They are all the same species and are mostly blue, with yellow heads and stripes on the face. They appear to be biting the the coral. End ID)

Parrotfish are protogynous sequential hermaprodites. This means that all parrotfish are born female and can become male later in life. The transition is usually triggered when there are too many females or not enough males in a location, though in some species any fish that reaches a certain size will become male. Some parrotfish are solitary while others are social. In social species, the social groups consist of a large male and a harem of females that he protects and claims mating rights with. Other males will attempt to fight the male for dominance via headbutting and threat displays and occasionally one of his harem members will become male to challenge him. Males are usually more colorful than females, which they use to woo females, but also puts them at greater risk of predation. If the harem leader dies and is not replaces, one member of the harem will transition to male and replace him. Many species perform courtship dances during nights of the full moon. In non-social species, males will perform displays and fight with each other to attract females. In social species, the dominant male will mate with his harem while smaller males without harems will try to sneakily woo claimed females or sneak in and mate without being noticed. Parrotfish are broadcast spawners. The female releases her eggs into the water and the males releases sperm to fertilize them. The eggs will drift on the current until settling, after which the larvae will hatch. As with most fish species, only a very few of the larvae will reach adulthood.

(Image: a Mediterranean parrotfish (Sparisoma cretense). It is mostly bright red, but with a yellow patch above the tail and a yellow stripe around the eye that runs down to the belly. A large patch behind the eye is blue. End ID)

Thankfully, most parrotfish species are not particularly endangered. The largest threat to them comes from habitat loss as pollution and climate change harms coral reefs. Reintroducing parrotfish to damaged reefs helps them recover. All species are edible, though there is no commercial fishery for them. While parrotfish are capable of delivering powerful bites, there are few reports of humans getting bit. That being said, I found one case where someone had skin on his penis bitten off by a parrotfish. And yes, that link has pictures. Enjoy.

(Image: a blue parrotfish (Scarus coeruleus) looking at the camera. It is a blue fish with darker patches around the eye. Its snout is bulbous and the beak points downward. End ID).

[solar-tl-27]

GOOOOOOOOD afternoon!

Hello hello, i’m so glad to share.. I’m back with >:) art!

Live hectic as usual (i feel like a fanfic writer at this point with how chaotic my life updates are so we’ll keep it short)

Watched the finale of wonderful precure and sobbed screamed and cried, it was beautiful and i’m currently working on preparing for my birthday in.. 2 months.. gotta be early

And excited to watch kimi to idol precure and currently sobbing at maho precure mirai days cuz THOSE ARE MY GIRLS THEY ARE MOM’S THEY SHOULD KISSSSSS i love them so much i’m planning to do precure fan art soon (already finished princess precure headcanon designs)

Today i’m here to share.. my first proper character line up in 4 years!

2 versions cuz m6 attempt at shading DID NOT WORK

I dont have really much to note about each character right now but i can give a quick run down of theee story… mind you these characters are aproximately 13 YEARS OLD

so less get into the loreeee

(Oh wait lemme ad the names)

Story goes,

Mikeal is a archeologist and veteran, dismissed for unknown reasons he has become the guy people call when they are handeling old magic stuff.

He’s got a small crew of people he relies on but his 2 closest companions are Montreal & Chappel. Mikeal suffers from memory problems and often relies on his adopted son Steph’s assistance in keeping his thoughts in check.

Mikeal, Montreal& Chappel are often twisted in several mysteries at once as they are joined by jane, a young reporter who promises to make herself useful and Hiro a mysterious slightly snarky but powerful asset as they try to figure out what happened to Mikael. From dragons to messing with memories and having to choose between regaining what was most important to you and the new life built after…

I feel like I’m trying to make it sound like a movie ad lmao.

Quick summaries of the characters innn this line up!

Alexis: a mysterious girl who often appears in fragments of mikeal’s memories

Montreal: mike’s right hand man and closest companion (they might kiss sometime)

Hiro: a novelist who got himself tangled so deep into a magic object they basically became one (might also kiss mike some time .. listen i’m not judging)

Steph: Mike’s adopted son! Found abandoned at an excavation site as a baby and has been in mikael’s care eversince a smart but irrational young man.

Mikeal: his desire to help people and his desire to find out why he can’t remember anything from 20 years ago drive him to extremes some time. But he’s willing to do whatever it takes, kind hearted but protective.

Jane: Got into the crew by some… non truthful ways but very quickly came clean that she was actually just a reporter trying to get a good story, she’s passionate and tries her best to be a good rolemodel (also might kiss mike some time lol)

Damien: Mike’s number one fan, a kid not afraid to throw himself into danger often to the annoyance of steph and concern to the others. He’s definitely a mommy’s boy as he clings to chappel’s side anytime something gets truely scary.

Chappel: Damien’s mom she’s been good friends with Mikeal even before damien was born,a very enthusiastic woman who has also taken on the role of steph’s motherly figure. Making sure the kids keep up with their school work while also showing off her own skills in chemistry. (Also kisses mike.. are yall seeing a trend??)

Elli: a young girl saved from a dragon’s wrath (she & steph def holds hands) a slightly mysterious character but trying her best… something about her might hold more information about what’s going on.

Genuinely idrk at this point how to explain the full story there are SOOO many more characters too, and i’m in early stagessss of figuring out what to do with 7 year old me’s writing ToT

ty for reading and looking at my art have a good night everyone

[cutestkilla]

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thanks for tagging me @theearlgreymage @wellbelesbian @shrekgogurt @orange-peony @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @youarenevertooold and @thewholelemon!

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):

The only WIP I’m really actively working on right now is Hiding Out in the Open.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Psychology Podcast Hidden Brain + AU where Simon and Baz never got together but Simon still lost his magic and got spelled by Smith = Non-linear AWTWB-era Baz negging Simon with podcast links but actually secretly being sweet the whole time until they’re having real conversations and like, excavating some trauma until Simon figures himself out (or does he?) (He does, I’m not a monster.)

(I needed more terms for this equation, a few higher powers maybe.)

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

Well, so far I’ve warned for anxiety/panic attacks, implied/referenced child abuse, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of eating bugs, AND mentions of animal cruelty. SOUNDS FUN RIGHT?

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

So this fic is titled after a Feist song. The alternate title was a combination of a Ron Sexmith song that Feist did a great cover of and the name of the fictional podcast in my story:

Secret Heart, Invisible Mind

5. ⚠️Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next?

Oh, it’ll be this one for sure! I have nothing else even approaching any kind of written state.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

Well, it’s just titled after the fic. But before I had a title and was just dreaming things up, I had a doc titled “Hidden Brainstorms”. There’s also a doc in the folder for this titled “Enemies Closer” that’s filled with research I did for an episode I have to invent…

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

“You stood him up? What the hell Basil? I cancelled my plans for this.”

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

Okay so I am an idea hoarder, I rarely fully scrap an idea until I’m done writing a story, I just park them all in a dumping ground at the end of my doc for ongoing review. But one for sure scrapped idea I had for this back in the start was that Shep would co-host a podcast at some point in this story.

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Welllllllll, I may have an entire (shared) Trello board for a fic that @artsyunderstudy and I have been excitedly talking about co-writing. I won't say much but it’s a Canonverse AU, featuring older strangers-to-lovers Snowbaz, and it’s a ghost story. Your basic SPOOKY SEXY SAD CATHARSIS type of deal.

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?

Actively? One. Two if you count the Trello board which I periodically add ideas to. Three if you count the Wedding fic draft I have 20K written for and could start writing on again at ANY MOMENT.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

Well, I’m about to be struggling with writing the scene where Baz listens to the podcast episode I have to completely invent. I have a full first rough pass at this chapter done, except that part where I just copy pasted a bunch of research notes to come back to…

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

🙏YOU get a kudos, and YOU get a kudos, and YOU get a kudos!

Tags in case you wanna: @artsyunderstudy @hushed-chorus @ivelovedhimthroughworse @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @fatalfangirl @facewithoutheart @skeedelvee @emeryhall @mooncello @monbons @angelsfalling16 @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @run-for-chamo-miles @brilla-brilla-estrellita @best--dress @onepintobean @martsonmars @messofthejess @ileadacharmedlife @urban-sith

[aldmeric]

Identity

In terms of my otherkin labels, being bosmer is not one of them — I do not have a biologicaly human body at all, as I am mer.

I use the terms alterhuman, faekind, spriggankind, goblinkind, dragonkind, draconic, kelpkind, snakekind, serpentkind, pythonkind, viperkind, pixiekind and spritekind.

‘Kind

Spriggankind

Spriggans (Coille phytomorphis) are a type of forest fae. A majority of spriggans can be found in the Northern Hemisphere, inhabiting densely-wooded areas and taking care of the native wildlife. They are not friendly towards humans and often attack them unprovoked; otherwise, they avoid humans completely. They are more peaceful towards mer, but are still often hostile and violent. They have the best relations with bosmer, who they feel adhere to the values of Y’ffre the most strictly out of all the mer. They have a connection with all types of wildlife, but they share a spirit bond with bears and foxes. Their biology is somewhere in between plant and animal, and they consume soil, minerals, sand, decomposing plant and animal matter, as well as biological waste. However, they primarily drink water to sustain themselves and must drink a lot of it in order to function.

Goblinkind

Goblins (Puko hulbolig) are mistaken for being much more stupid and aggressive than they really are. While it is true that some goblins form hoardes, these events of pillaging are not universal. In truth, goblins form extremely close family ties, and typically reside in caves. Due to most caves in Tamriel being excavated and mined extensively, goblins were pushed out of their native homes and forced to live in exile in city sewers, underground Ayleid temples and ruins, and many of them returned to the caves they once occupied in rebellion. As a result, they are incredibly cautious of most bipeds, and have an instinct to defend themselves. They are omnivores and eat herbs, berries and tubers, along with some grasses. They eat small amounts of ground mineral ores to help them digest this (thus resulting in collecting money whenever they can, as their caves are mostly empty of ores they can safely use), as well as consuming animal meats — usually smaller animals such as weasels, rats, birds, and occasionally fish and shellfish.

Dragonkind

Azure dragons (Draconis veneta), sometimes appearing blue, green or turquoise depending on the lighting source, are a temperate forested coastal cliff-residing dragon, taking advantage of food sources such as dolphins, whales, sharks, seals, deer, wolves, ogres, boar, larger species of trolls, elk, cattle and horses. These dragons are opportunistic feeders but often develop preferences for specific prey items. They are also commonly found to be feasting on kelp, seaweeds and seagrasses. They are adept at swimming and diving, able to hold their breath for up to 20 minutes at a time. They are typically solitary, but will occasionally keep in contact with family, even sometimes forming small groups of friends, or visiting their mates’ family. They are highly elusive and are more often heard than seen, their call reaching an impressive distance of up to 30 miles.

Kelpkind

Giant kelp (Macrocystis pyrifera) is the largest species of brown algae. Brown algae is a large group of multicellular algaes — eukaryotic organisms that evolved the ability to photosynthesize later and separately from plants due to a developed mutualistic relationship between red alga and some kind of basal eukaryote. They live primarily in the Northern Hemisphere, inhabiting cold and icy waters, and are frequently found attached to rocky shores. They are a food and shelter source for an abundance of plants and animals, and provide a pivotal role in the ecosystems they thrive in.

Rattlesnakekind

Timber rattlesnakes (Crotalus horridus), native to eastern Turtle Island, are pit vipers with a powerful neurotoxic and hemorrhagic venom. They average around 4 ft in length, but some individuals have been found to be over 6 ft. They return to the same den every winter to brumate, often with friends and family. They are often found basking to warm themselves with these social groups, as well. They primarily consume squirrels, mice, rats, rabbits, birds and frogs. They hunt their prey by chemical detection and envenomation, striking a bite, and then waiting for their prey to succumb to the venom before consuming it. They inhabit grassy, forested and rocky areas, sleeping in hidden rocky outcroppings and solid burrows left behind by other animals. They are not aggressive, but they are defensive, showcasing their trademark rattling sound to serve as an announcement of their need for personal space.

Pythonkind

Royal pythons, or ball pythons (Python regius), are constrictor snakes native to sub-Sarahan West Africa, as north as Senegal, as east as Sudan and as south as Uganda. They are known for their round faces, their thick bodies and their striking patterns and bright colors, called “morphs” in the reptile industry. They eat gerbils, mice, rats, small birds, and occasionally, small reptiles. They are solitary, residing in burrows usually abandoned by other animals, but they will also dig their own, as well as inhabiting termite mounds every so often. They live in quite a diverse range, inhabiting grasslands to forests to wetlands, but they are not often found near water unless seasonal flooding is taking place. They are strong swimmers and have no issue using water as a means to escape danger. They are not venomous, using their ability to see heat and sense chemical changes in the air to track their prey, striking and constricting it until the prey is strangled.

Feurfae

Feurfae, or in English, grass pixies (Epiconias gramen), are a type of bipedal plant sprite. They have translucent iridescent wings, and their appearances mimic the lowest growing plants in their environment, allowing them to easily camouflage into their surroundings. Feurfae in particular are found in forests with significant underbrush, as well as grasslands and wildflower meadows, but they are never far from a forest due to their need to pollinate and their hunger for nectar. They eat flower nectar, honey, certain types of pollens and young seeds, flower petals, tree sap and honeydew (insect secretions). Pollen tends to stick best to their manes, arms, legs, back and tail. Feurfae posess incredibly sensitive whiskers and feelers, located on their snout, eyebrows and tail. Their feet resemble spider paws, and work the same way, making use of their retractable claws to grip onto the stems of plants and to the bark of trees. They are highly social creatures, and prefer only to be alone when hunting. Their height ranges from approximately 6.7mm to 2cm.

[arisenreborn]

Okay here's my outline for the gist of how Olivia and Emrys's different cycles go, without getting too into the nitty gritty details. Mostly just how they end. Spoilers for sure and big gratuitous headcanons of course. <3

CYCLE 1: 

The Bad Ending. Emrys goes ‘purgener mode’ in the Unmoored World, mostly kills Olivia*, and then proceeds to wander through other worlds until killed. Time restarts and loops back for them. 

(*I think she was kept very slightly alive, the tiny thread of her remaining life 'elongated' by being fused into a dragons heart, but obv in a not very pleasant way or sense, and for a blessing she wouldn't have been very aware of it.)

CYCLE 2: 

‘Dream’, or False Cycle. This is a really warped, distorted cycle. It happens, but even more outside the typical parameters of the world than usual. It's a result of being the ‘bridge’ dragon!Emrys created, connecting the failure of the first cycle to a true, renewed attempt in the third cycle after a fashion. 

(Basically, he's creating the parameters for the time loop, using his connection to the Brine/greater powers via dragonsplague. The implications here are pretty big but we won't see more of that until the True Ending.)

Emrys is the Arisen, Olivia (fittingly after her death, an ‘empty vessel’) is his pawn.. It ends with the bittersweet victory of Pawn!Olivia sacrificing her newly realized will, prompting Emrys to realize this isn't 'how things should be', and the world loops back again.

CYCLE 3:

The Unmoored World goes very differently. Emrys seemingly overcomes the dragonsplague to help her defeat the Pathfinder Dragon, Olivia disappears for several months after the final battle. When they find her she has none of her memories, and it takes over a year for them to finally start to return - whereupon she is officially made Sovran. 

It’s a good, happy ending - until many years later their son, Idris, is made the new Arisen. They realize that while they may have gotten rid of the Pathfinder and Brine, the Dragon’s Dogma itself remains. When their son tragically perishes, time loops back once more.

CYCLE 4: 

The Final Cycle, The True Ending (Until I start getting more bright ideas.) I like to think the Pathfinder would be slightly more of a threat here -when- they realize they were overcome before, and were only returned to their ‘rightful place’ by… means unknown even to them. 

Ultimately a new order is created. Emrys ascends up the dragon ladder, overcoming dragonsplague and subsuming the Pathfinder/Brine. He essentially becomes a new class of dragon, holding that role in perpetuity, with Olivia as Sovran and Seneschal. 

Basically they become living gods and re-define the Dragon’s Dogma. 😌 (And they have their kids later and Idris never has to become Arisen.)

Notes!

Cycle 2:

It's almost dream-like/nightmarish in the way I imagine it is, yes, close enough to the basic DD2 story experience, but Emrys's actual perception of things is often skewed. His personal memories don't always add up, essentially, because they were cobbled together 'on the spot'. Basically he didn't actually 'exist in the world as a human' in the history leading up to him awakening at the excavation site when time looped back - he’d been a pawn up until that point. The chaotic result of Cycle 1’s ending and him trying to patch things back together, trying to ‘fix Olivia’, but ‘Olivia’ being ‘gone’ resulted in him getting slotted into the role of Arisen and a haphazard backstory shifting into place between the fell curse of amnesia.  It doesn’t all exactly make ‘sense’ because I just want to be able to slap an Arisen!Emrys cycle in there and it’s just inherently not right on any level.

Cycle 3 has the most alternative endings that are genuine, AU endings, that don't really fit in the scheme of continuity... but they're out there. 😂

The Neutral Ending. After several bad turns with Dragonsplague, Godsway, and dealing with Olivia’s brother, he begs her to give up her charge and simply leave with him. Though reluctant, she eventually agrees. They live out their days, sometimes avoiding and other times assisting new Arisen. The Happy Ending. Despite their son becoming Arisen, he later manages to truly break and end the cycle, and all is well. Some of it has overlapping plot points with the True Ending, but with Idris playing a more central role. It’s likely in this one Olivia and Emrys would eventually grow old together.

[neopuff]

ALWAYS ON MY MIND

chapter eight: keep me in mind ships: sasha/milla characters: milla, sasha, oleander, hollis, otto word count: 4784 ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53435410/chapters/137330257

[chap 1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

-

Five and a half years was a long time.

As of 1985, Morceau Oleander had been with the Psychonauts for almost thirteen years, and he’d never seen Sasha Nein work so consistently with another person. It was fascinating, if he was being honest. He hadn’t thought it was possible. But Milla Vodello was nothing if not a miracle worker.

Morceau liked the two of them. Well, he liked Milla. He tolerated Sasha in appropriately small doses, as the lanky man did to him. 

But having a friendly relationship with them wouldn’t change his goals. Oleander’s grand master plan was finally going to get in motion. After five years of agonizingly slow and pain-staking hard work, the Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp was going to open its doors to the first group of psychic children that would someday power his army of brain tanks. Once he figured out all the other details, anyway.

Whispering Rock Valley was a perfect location. The large psitanium deposits meant psychic powers would be amplified, there was a beautiful lake for normal camp nonsense, and it was a remote-enough area to avoid interference from locals. The past five years had been spent planning, excavating the grounds, building the campsite, creating psychic safety measures to ensure safety for the kids and counselors, and then more planning. It was the biggest project he’d ever worked on, and Oleander was damn proud of it.

For the very first summer of Whispering Rock Psychic Summer Camp, they’d just have one camp session per month and just a handful of kids per session. Oleander would be a counselor at the camp every session, but the other two (or more!) counselors could swap. He didn’t really care. He was more concerned about working on his actual plan, and enjoying how the psitanium would enhance his natural psychic abilities.

The first session was set to begin on June 9th and end on the 16th. There were only seven kids signed up, and they were all the children or relatives of Psychonauts, but Oleander wasn’t deterred. The first summer was guaranteed to be slow! Their name wasn’t out in the world just yet.

“Morceau,” Otto commented one day while walking through the Motherlobe lobby. “I think all that psitanium exposure could be good for Ford. You should bring him along and let me know if you see any improvement.”

“You want me to bring Agent Cruller to the summer camp?” Oleander had asked, thoroughly baffled. It wasn’t like Cruller could do anything about his plans, not when the man was so mentally messed up, but the thought still made him nervous. “But then…who’s gonna sort the mail? Clean the bowling shoes?”

Otto glared at the shorter man. “We can always find replacements for that. Take him with you.”

Oleander did as he was told - after checking with Grand Head Zanotto and Lesser Head Forsythe, of course - and decided to embrace it. Cruller being around didn’t need to be a setback. It was just an inconvenience that ultimately wouldn’t change anything.

“Please be gentle with the children,” Milla said to him the day before he left for camp. “They can only handle so much of your…intensity.”

“You could always come along, you know!” Oleander responded with a toothy smile. “I’ll bet you’re great with kids!”

“Ah…I, um. I’ll think about it,” she’d answered shyly, then floated away.

Morceau thought that was an odd response, and Sasha’s appearance next to him made it even stranger.

“She used to work with children. It’s been a while,” Sasha said quietly, adjusting his sunglasses. “Perhaps we’ll join you next summer.”

Oleander glared at the taller man. “I didn’t say you could come, too, Nein. You’d scare the kids half to death!”

Sasha glared back, looking slightly offended.

Morceau decided not to give the other man a chance to talk back. “I know you two are connected at the hip, but there’ll be no time for smooching at my camp! It’ll be psychic training all day, every day!” He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled.

“You are intolerable,” was Sasha’s only response as he floated away.

Notably, in the same direction that Milla had just gone. Nein wasn’t doing anything in his favor to fight the rumors about the two of them and Oleander thought it was very, very funny.

X

Milla was excited to talk to Morceau as soon as he returned from the first session at Whispering Rock. He'd gone with Agents Aaronson and Whittaker, neither of whom seemed all that excited about the opportunity, but were both asked to keep things in line. The two of them looked absolutely exhausted when they returned - like they'd been on the battlefield instead of babysitting a bunch of children.

“It was…too much,” Agent Aaronson said when Milla caught up to him. “Oleander already stresses me out. Add a bunch of preteens and I was ready to rip my hair out!”

“Oh.” Milla was disappointed by Aaronson’s reaction, not sure if she'd have felt the same. It didn't take her long to find Whittaker, who looked similarly worn out.

“You ever work with kids, Agent Vodello?” Whittaker asked, not expecting an answer. “Think about all that energy. Think about how much they don't like to listen. Then give them psychic powers and try to stop the five-year-old from setting the fourteen-year-old’s hair on fire.”

She nodded, not really sure what to say. Milla wasn't going to pretend that she didn't have a vested interest in Oleander’s camp project. But it sounded very scary. Especially the idea of children being able to create fire with their minds.

It stressed her out to think about it too much.

After talking with the two of them, Milla finally found Morceau - he'd just finished up a briefing with Truman and Hollis and looked much lighter and happier than his two compatriots.

“How'd it go, Morry?” she asked, a bit hesitant after the bad reviews she'd already heard.

“How'd it go? How'd it go?” he responded, getting louder as he spoke. “It went amazing! These kids are hungry to learn! And Zanotto’s little girl, you should've seen her! I never could've imagined such a young mind could be so powerful!”

Truman’s daughter, Lili, was the youngest camper to attend the first camp session. Everyone knew about it because Truman talked about it constantly. Ever since his divorce, his daughter had become his entire world. Milla wondered if he was trying to make up for the time he didn't spend with his ex-wife.

Milla and Sasha had met Lili a handful of times when she came to work with her father. She was feisty and adorable and occasionally difficult to keep track of. Very adventurous, always wandering off on her own.

The idea of her creating fire with her mind made Milla feel very nervous. Five-year-olds shouldn't even use a stove yet, let alone start fires spontaneously.

“The parents were so excited, too,” Oleander continued. “Everyone took a handful of pamphlets, probably to hand out to fellow psychics with their own psychic kids. This is gonna be a gold mine, I'm telling you!”

“How many children are signed up for July?”

“A week ago there were just five, but a bunch of the campers asked to come back right away so we're already up to nine!” Morceau was smiling bright and looked immensely proud of himself. “I'm telling you, Vodello, the next generation of Psychonauts is gonna be the strongest yet!” 

She smiled at him, despite the unease she still felt. Strong wasn't a word she liked attributing to children. They shouldn't have to be strong. But it was hard to deny that they'd be safer if they were properly trained on how to use their powers, especially when those powers involved fire.

“I'm happy for you, Morceau,” Milla said, still smiling. “I'm glad you worked so hard to set this up. You're really going to change those kid's lives.”

Sasha watched the two of them talk. He'd been casually observing them for the entirety of their conversation, but only because he'd been looking to talk to Oleander and Milla got to him first. Sasha had been paying attention to Morceau’s camp for a while, knowing that his partner would eventually, undoubtedly, want to participate.

Years ago, before meeting Milla, Sasha wouldn't have even considered it. What Morry said two weeks ago was right - Sasha did tend to scare kids. He wasn't good at being around them. But he knew that Milla would want to check it out, at the very least. 

She’d struggled to be around children for too long in the aftermath of her incident, but in the past few years she'd worked through a lot of those feelings. It was true that she'd never get rid of the nightmares, not entirely, but she made them weaker. A little at a time. And he was proud of her.

He watched as Milla gave Morceau a little kiss on top of his head, which Sasha found himself frowning at for no discernable reason, and then he frowned deeper as Morry shouted at her retreating figure. 

“Save the smooches for your partner!”

Sasha had told Morceau on more than one occasion to stop with the comments, but knowing he was making them to Milla as well made him especially unhappy. She didn’t need to deal with that sort of thing.

As she left the lobby, Sasha levitated to where she just was and stood right next to Morceau, who took a second to notice the new presence next to him.

“Nein,” he said sourly.

“Morry,” Sasha responded, hands in his pockets.

“What do you want?” Morceau glared up at him. “Don’t tell me you suddenly care about the camp.”

“Do you already have counselors assigned for the rest of the summer?”

That question earned Sasha a suspicious stare. “July’s covered, but August is still open. Why? You’re actually considering this?”

Sasha crossed his arms over his chest. “Why is that so surprising to you? I’ve no issue with spending time outdoors. Or with…children.”

“Are you kidding? You spend every hour of every day in your lab! Do you even know how to swim?” Oleander threw his hands up. “We’re teaching these kids real life skills! How to use their psychic powers to protect themselves, but also how to find community and feel like a hero! Do you think you can handle something like that?”

It was an interesting question. Sasha hadn’t thought of the camp in such a melodramatic way before, he mostly thought of it as some sort of training facility for kids. But he didn’t attend any kind of summer camp when he was a boy, so he didn’t really have experience to compare it to. He didn’t hate the outdoors, though, he just preferred his lab because he liked getting work done. There was nothing wrong with that.

“I do know how to swim,” was Sasha’s immediate response, though it felt kind of silly to say out loud. He didn’t know how to swim well, but he wouldn’t drown if thrown into the water. “I see no reason why I couldn’t do my usual work at Whispering Rock.”

Oleander sighed deeply. “This is why I didn’t invite you, Nein. You’re not focusing on the kids! You’re just thinking about yourself. If you really want to be a counselor, you have to be a counselor. Got it?”

Sasha pouted slightly. “Got it,” he answered, hating that he was being scolded by Morceau Oleander of all people. It wasn’t like Oleander didn’t have a point, though. Sasha knew he’d have to put aside real time to pay attention to the campers and not just work on his own projects. Which would be difficult, since he often lost track of time when he was working.

But he knew that Milla would want to go and he wanted to be there with her. It would be worth it to try something new.

“We'll join you in August,” Sasha said after going over his thoughts.

“Uh-huh.”

“I'm serious.” Sasha clenched his arms tighter across his chest and tapped a pointer finger against his arm. “I…promise to pay attention to the children. I'll be on my…best behavior.” It was causing him physical pain to speak like that to a man like Oleander.

“Talk to your partner about it first, why don't you?” Morry opened a little notebook and wrote something down. “I'll hold the space ‘til the end of the day, but no longer than that!”

Sasha took a deep breath. He was so easily irritated by him. “I appreciate that.”

“But I meant what I said before, Nein. This isn't some lovey-dovey vacation for you and Vodello to cuddle by the campfire! You won't get any of the silly romantic alone time you're looking for. It's real work! And it's hard and unforgiving and you'll want to pull your hair out sometimes!” Oleander shook his head and held a hand dramatically to his chest. “But it's worth it! Trust me, it's worth it.”

“...I have absolutely no expectations for anything romantic,” Sasha said after a moment of hesitation. He never knew how to respond to Oleander when he got all intense and weird. “You need to stop with the comments, Morry.”

“You're such a tight-wad, Nein!” Morceau rolled his eyes. “But y'know what? If you can actually manage to be an attentive camp counselor for an entire week, I swear you'll never hear a joke about you and Vodello ever again!”

That got Sasha’s attention. If that was what it would take to stop the comments, then that was exactly what he'd do. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

With a grumble about being late for something, Morceau left the lobby, and Sasha stood there awkwardly for a few moments. He needed to go find Milla.

Sasha made his way down the hallway towards his lab and turned to look at the office next to his - the office that now belonged to his partner, Milla Vodello. She'd just earned the space recently and he couldn't have been prouder.

He could feel that she was in there - Milla tended to keep her mind open to him, allowing him to speak to her telepathically any time he wanted. And he was similarly allowed to enter her office any time he wanted, so he quickly stepped up and allowed the Thinkerprint lock to open the door for him.

Milla wasn't levitating in the middle of the room like he'd expected - instead, she was organizing some books and photos on one of her bookshelves.

“Hello, Sasha!” she chirped happily, still looking at the books in front of her.

“...hello,” he responded. Suddenly, Sasha felt a bit nervous. He could've just told her that he'd volunteered them for camp counselor duty telepathically, he didn't need to come all the way over to her office just to inform her. But he wanted to be present for whatever reaction she had. Maybe she'd be mad and tell him she's not ready, or maybe she'd be very happy and give him a hug.

He liked getting hugs from her.

“How's your day been?” Milla asked, levitating over to him.

“Fine.” Sasha kept his hands in his pockets, but he suddenly had an urge to smoke. He didn't usually have that urge around Milla anymore. “I…I have an important question to ask you.”

She tilted her head adorably. “What is it?”

Sasha stared at her for another moment before answering. “Um…would you be interested in being counselors at Oleander's camp? This August, perhaps?”

Milla’s eyes practically sparkled. “Really?”

“Really. I already asked him about it and there's no one signed up yet.”

She smiled at him - toothy and bright, but a little nervous. “Oh, darling, I-I would absolutely love that! But…”

He raised a single eyebrow curiously. There was a but?

“...I don't want you to force yourself to go just because of me.” She clasped her hands together and held them over her chest. “I'm not even sure if I'm…if I'm ready yet, so we can-”

Sasha interrupted her, not wanting to hear her spiral. “It's not just because of you. I'm very curious about Whispering Rock and seeing what the young psychics are capable of.” He paused, then added, “And for whatever it's worth, I think you're ready.” Sasha hesitated for a moment, then reached out and placed one hand on her shoulder. “You've made a lot of progress since you first started here, Milla. I think you owe it to yourself to try.”

The smile on her face grew bigger and bigger as he spoke, until finally Milla launched herself forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and shoulders.

Sasha took a deep breath - he was trying to get less embarrassed when she hugged or kissed him, but it was difficult. He was embarrassed. But he didn't want her to stop.

He still felt himself turn rigid as much as he tried to stop it, and slowly he moved one hand to her back. He could hug her, too. No reason why he couldn't.

Then Milla moved her hands to his head and held it in place while she left multiple little kisses on his cheek. She was definitely very happy with him.

Sasha was soaking up the feeling of her lips. One of her kisses was only an inch away from his own and it was difficult not to sweat at the thought.

“Thank you, Sasha!” Milla finally said, pulling back just a bit but allowing his hand to linger on her back. “I love this idea. I love it. August, right? I can go talk to Morry and see if we need to bring anything…” She sighed deeply and squeezed him tight again before pulling away completely. “We should talk to Hollis and Truman, too, just to make sure it's alright. But I'm sure it will be.”

Sasha’s arms felt cold and empty without her warmth. He stared at her with an absentminded smile, hoping his cheeks weren't as red as they felt (they definitely were). He couldn't fight the little smile on his face and watched as she did a little levitating spin.

“Thank you for this, darling,” Milla said cheerfully, coming down to his level again. She leaned in and gave him a peck on his other cheek. “Thank you, I love you, I'm going to go talk to Morry! I'll let you know what he says!”

She rushed out of the room, leaving Sasha behind to marinate in what just happened. His cheeks were bright red and he felt sweat all down the back of his neck.

She said I love you.

Of course, it wasn't the first time the word love had come up between them. It could be a very playful, platonic term in certain contexts. But usually she'd say it around other people - when asked how their partnership was going, she'd say I love working with Sasha or it's absolutely lovely! or something along those lines.

Never before had she privately told him I love you.

Sasha knew a memory vault would've been forming in his head if not for the detailed filing cabinet of memories dedicated specifically to her. He could hardly believe the Milla Vodello cabinet started out as a single folder.

He continued to stand there in Milla’s office, taking deep breaths and trying to will his heart to stop beating so fast. He was an adult and she was his partner and he needed to figure out how to accept her affections without losing his motor functions. Hugging her back (even a little bit) was somewhat helpful. Perhaps his next step would be to kiss her back.

Sasha’s face heated up immediately at that thought. He would not be doing that. 

He…he needed to find some work to do.

X

“Morry!” Milla shouted, waving at the shorter man.

Oleander turned to look at her, a curious eyebrow raised, but then he seemed to remember something and smiled. “I'm guessing you and Nein talked?”

She levitated closer and smiled. “We did! August works perfectly for me.”

“Alright! That's good to hear!” Morceau opened his little notebook and wrote something down. “I trust you with this more than Nein, but I'm gonna say it anyway. This isn't gonna be some lovey-dovey romantic vacation, got it? Your jobs are to train these kids and that's what I expect to happen!’

Milla tilted her head slightly. Morry made the occasional joke about her and Sasha’s relationship, so it wasn't particularly surprising to hear that he also made them to Sasha. But after the little faux-pas she just committed (saying I love you to her partner was a bit much!), she felt especially embarrassed about it. But how would Morry know that? He was just being the same as usual.

“You don't have to worry about that,” she mumbled, running her fingers through her hair. There was definitely no chance of something romantic happening between them on a normal day - when surrounded by children? Out in the woods? Even less. Negative chances. “Do we need to bring anything?”

Morry shook his head. “Nothing special. Clothes, toiletries, the usual camp stuff.”

“Oh, good. That'll make it easy,” she said with a smile, happy that he didn't try to stick to the subject of romance. “I guess I'll go tell Hollis and Truman-”

“No need! I already took care of it!” Morceau smiled up at her. “Hollis pre-approved any agents who showed interest in the camp for the first two years! And you'll get paid overtime, too! Trust me, Vodello, you're gonna love it there. The great outdoors, the fresh air…and Agent Cruller has been amazing!”

“Huh?” Milla stared at him curiously. “Agent Cruller is there?”

“Mentallis suggested it. Figured the psitanium would be good for the old man’s brain.” Oleander seemed to think of something and then quickly wrote it down. “I don't know if it's been good for him, but he's been cooking and cleaning all over the camp! Making my life a lot easier. At first, I was worried about having him there, but it's been great!”

She nodded, surprised to hear all of that information. “I suppose Agent Mentallis tends to have good ideas.”

“You bet he does!” Oleander said with a smile. “Ooh, speaking of good ideas, I've been thinking about ways to promote the camp to kids who don't have psychic parents.”

“How's that?”

“We need to keep it sort of secretive, y'know, since the average person doesn't understand psychics or Psychonauts or anything we do. But we still want people to be interested, so there needs to be lots of details out there for them to see.”

Milla nodded slowly, no idea where he was going.

“And what do kids love, Vodello, that adults ignore and dismiss as silly?” Oleander spoke like he wanted her to respond, but immediately answered himself. “Comic books!”

Milla stood there awkwardly. She was never much of a comic book reader. “I'm not sure I understand.”

“Hear me out, okay? We produce a series of comic books that detail the exploits that we Psychonauts go on! Psychic kids will read them and know it's real, but random adults will assume it's just another fictional story they can ignore!”

She didn't even know how to word her next question. What the hell was he talking about?

“You seem confused. Let me give you an example,” Morry said, opening his notebook and flipping to a random page near the end. On it, there was a pretty decent drawing of a much younger Grand Head Zanotto shooting out a PSI-blast at an unseen enemy. “This issue would be all about Truman taking down the Psychic Scrambler! I'm just realizing you weren't here for that, but maybe you know about it anyway. The comic would show him at the Motherlobe, getting the assignment, then fighting the Scrambler and taking him back to base for processing! Kids will love it! They'll see this and desperately want to learn more about the Psychonauts!”

Milla held one hand to her chin, still completely confused. “Y'know what, Morry…if you think it'll work, then it's at least worth a shot, right?” She smiled at him, but she also felt like she needed a coffee. “I'm sure Hollis will like it.”

“What will I like?”

The two of them turned to see that Second Head Forsythe had entered the room and was levitating closer to them as they spoke.

“Hello, Hollis!” Milla said with a smile. “Morceau and I were talking about Whispering Rock. Sasha and I just signed up to be counselors in August.”

Hollis smiled and nodded. “That's great to hear. I was wondering when you'd take part.” She turned to look at Oleander. “Is that what I'm going to like?”

“I was telling Vodello here about an inexpensive advertising campaign for the camp!” Morry said with a proud smile. “And it'd be sneaky, too! Only fellow psychics would understand!”

She put a hand on her hip and smiled at him. “Oh, really?”

As Morceau explained his comic book idea to her, Milla watched them and wondered when their relationship had improved so much. Sometimes it felt like she was so focused on her work with Sasha, that she barely paid attention to anyone else anymore. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd hung out with Sherri, and she never worked with Agent 33 anymore. Though there were rumors that 33 avoided working with Sasha whenever possible, so that could've been the reason.

“Y'know what, Oleander?” Hollis said, pulling Milla out of her thoughts. “If you can find an artist for this, then we'll do it. We made so much money from this first week of camp - you've clearly got some great ideas in that head of yours.”

“Yes!” Morry pumped a fist in the air. “I know just the gal!” Then he ran off in another direction, not even bothering to say goodbye.

Hollis looked at Milla and smiled gently. “I'm glad you're going, Milla. Truman will be, too. He was just telling me how he knew you could convince Sasha to go with you.”

Milla chuckled at that. “It was actually the other way around,” she said shyly, tugging some hair behind her ear. She still felt a little embarrassed talking about her partner after what she'd said to him. “Sasha suggested it and convinced me to go!”

The older woman frowned. “Really?”

Milla blinked at her. Why would she lie about something like that? “Um…yes, really. Why?”

“I'm just surprised, is all. Kind of thought Sasha hated kids.” Hollis shrugged, like the suggestion wasn't strange at all. “He's always so awkward around Truman’s daughter.”

Hate seemed a bit strong, in Milla’s opinion. It wasn't like he'd had the opportunity to be around many children before.

“Well, I should be fair to him. He can be awkward around a lot of people. Except for you, of course.”

There were clearly a lot of thoughts running through the Second Head’s mind, and Milla decided she should do her best to clear them up before she said anything else about her partner that wasn't super polite. “Ah, well! Sasha is always supporting me and my, um, mental health journey, so he was probably trying to encourage me! It's very sweet of him.”

Hollis nodded her head slowly and put her other hand on her other hip. “He's really blossomed from working with you, Milla. Honestly, if you saw what he was like when he first came here, you'd hardly recognize him.”

“That's what I've heard,” Milla responded awkwardly. She really wanted that coffee.

“Well, that's good to hear. I hope you two have fun at the camp.” Hollis suddenly closed her eyes, looking like someone was talking to her telepathically. “I've got to go, but I've got a new assignment for the two of you, so make some space in your schedule for a briefing later today. Maybe around 2.”

Milla nodded, happy at the change of subject. “Of course! I'll let Sasha know.”

And then suddenly she was alone in the middle of the lobby. Milla felt oddly vulnerable - the room was too quiet. It felt like anyone and everyone was listening in on her conversations the entire time, even though she knew that wasn't true.

Probably not, anyway.

She ran her fingers through her hair and finally made her way to the Noodle Bowl. She could talk to Sasha again after getting herself a coffee.

Oh, actually - she would get a coffee for him, too! He'd probably like that.

[southern-god1]

Here’s a story a friend and I collaborated on. Credit goes to my buddy Downbelow82 on Coiledfist.

This was set in an idea I was exploring at the time, where the Civil War is won thanks to Southern giants, and this is set shortly thereafter. Fellow history buffs will notice some famous names: Eiffel is known for his Eiffel Tower, while Bartholdi was the designer of the Statue of Liberty. I loved that ironic touch. Also loved the “tour of devotion” idea for Yankees. And, of course, the cocky country boy Confederate soldier titans!

Anyway, hope y��all like it as much as I did.

-

While it had only been a few years since the war had officially ended, the monuments to the honored, victorious confederates sprouted up and down the Eastern seaboard. While there was no shortage of statuary in the heart of the South itself, usually constructed by an army of enslaved, the Confederate High Commission on Battle Monuments paid especial attention on the construction of monuments in the “Occupied North.” While the monuments in the South were sizable in their own right, the statuary constructed in the captured northern cities, or rather the remains of these cities, from Philadelphia to Boston, were to be mammoth in size.

These massive leviathan structures would rival nothing since ancient times when the Colossus strode the harbor at Rhodes. Much of Washington, the jewel of the former Federal union, was cleared away for the construction of a veritable Valhalla to the honored victorious Army of the South, vast monuments and temples on what used to be the capital city. The construction there continues. From the day of victory to the present day, wage slave laborers and outright slaves work round the clock to bring this sacred sight to fruition.

However, other cities were not without their honored places. In Philadelphia, for example, in the “Night of the Reb’ Purge” as the locals called it, behind closed doors, much of the cities famous sites of Revolutionary fame were destroyed.

At Independence Hall, where that famed document cementing North America’s divorce from the British Empire was signed, all that remained was an empty lot. The old Georgian hall had suffered at the wanton destruction and mercy of the Confederate Super Soldiers and their Giant Legion. While the mass of bricks, timber, and other ruin were carefully excavated from the sight, the massive bootprints of the giant soldiers were purposely left behind, a stark reminder of the power of the Arisen South and their superior military might.

While the massive indentations were left as is, with just the ruins moved out, one exception was made. In one particularly massive boot print were the crushed remains of the once famed Liberty Bell, which was tolled in a fateful July some 4 score and seventy years earlier, as an ex Northern politician once notably put to words. The new masses of second class citizens were made to visit, from separate viewing platforms than the ones used for tourists from the South. The honored Southern tourists watch in amusement as these lower citizens and chattel were made to literally bow before this now deemed “sacred” sight. The way a pilgrim would bow in Lourdes or Mecca, the newly incorporated citizenry would be made to bow with great reverence at the boot print and crushed bell. Before their “tour” was complete, a kiss was required on the banner of Confederate Battle Flag (to which they would also bow, the Battle Flag now a sacred symbol across the nation) and the Stars and Bars. Once done three times in each month, their monthly “service of devotion” was completed, as mandated by law.

Not far from the former site of Independence Hall was a specially constructed, Athenian inspired temple, housing more sacred relics. A pair of massive boots of one of the honored veterans of the Battle of Philadelphia were put on permanent display. The leather of the huge boots, particularly on the tongue area, was faded pale from the hundreds of hands touched upon in daily, rubbing for good luck and reverence. A huge battle flag was proudly on display, to which Northerners bowed and Southerners proudly saluted.

This was all well and good but was not satisfactory enough for the Battle Monuments Commission or the government in the burgeoning metropole of New Richmond. No, something much more groundbreaking would be constructed in the backdrop of the ruins of Independence Hall. While Europe was still in turmoil over the events in North America, maintaining a very uneasy neutrality, a flurry of entrepreneurs flooded into the Confederacy for a chance at opportunity and the age old pursuit of lucre. This included many great European architects and sculptors. A noted many, including a civil engineer named Eiffel and a sculptor named Bartholdi were encouraged to emigrate by the government in New Richmond.

The project in Philadelphia, like many monuments across the great nation, would commemorate the Giant Soldiers of that great war. It would take months of back breaking labor, resulting in the deaths of numerous workers, but an amazing structure would emerge to tower over Philadel,’ nearly 300 feet in height. An ingenious skeletal structure was surrounded by sheets of hammered copper. It was a glorious site to behold as it neared completion. A 300 foot tall recreation of a Confederate soldier, complete with an immensely handsome young face and musculature not so subtly covered beneath his gray battle uniform. In his massive right fist was a towering flagpole, with the Stars and Bars raised and proudly flowing mid air. His left arm held tightly his trusty rifle that had slaughtered easily so many yanks. His even more trusty weapons, his left boot and right boot made their own respective statements.

The massive right boot was frozen in a pivot, grinding a marble sculpture of the old constitution of the Defeated Federal Tyranny. Under the massive left boot, a recreation of the old White House that once sat proudly in Washington City, was in the midst of being crushed by the weight of the powerful young soldier. While the old Republican minded Frenchman, Bartholdi and Eiffel were a bit uncomfortable at the subject matter of this construction, they realized this was the new way of things and were grateful for the work. All effort was put into making the statue a work of perfection and immaculate engineering and structural integrity.

With just one day before the officially planned opening and unveiling ceremonies, an impromptu visit by certain “authorities” was made known to the builders with virtually no time to prepare. The visitors were dispatched from the Confederate Base on the Delaware River, Fort Davis. The occupied cities were no strangers to the giant soldiers who continued to patrol their streets and wreak havoc..or rather, law and order as they saw fit. Philadelphia was no exception.

By noon, the ground began to tremble with a sinister rhythm. A shadow soon cast over the building site. Thousands of laborers froze in place as the team of behemoth white soldiers approached. They were young, between the ages of 18 and 20, and were sent by the Base commander as a show of arrogance. Their huge grey uniforms fluttered in the gust of wind that blew in from the riverside. The bills of their peaked caps kept the upper portions of their faces in shadow, leaving only their smirking mouths visible to the bug sized people below. Finally, the oldest soldier in command, a 20 year old LT stepped forward, his massive boot obliterating a horse and carriage that was unfortunate to be in his path. The god sized soldier spoke, his sexy Southern twang unmistakable.

“WELL…WELL…WELL. WHAT HAVE WE HERE, BOYS? LOOKS LIKE THE CITIZENS HAVE CONSTRUCTED A LIL SOMETHING IN OUR HONOR. WELL, HO-LY SHEE-IT. LOOKS PRETTY DAMN GOOD.”

The men grumbled and laughed.

The foreman cautiously approached the soldiers face, from high atop the wooden scaffolding surrounding the statue. At least a hundred other workers remained frozen in place atop that same scaffold.

‘Please….Monsiuer…we ‘ave labored very very hard…with this great construction….umm…for the honor of your um…les militaires…your giant soldat, Sir.”

The soldier giggled at the heavy accent of the foreman.

“GODDAMN, BOY. YOU SPEAKIN’ WITH MOLASSES IN YOUR MOUTH…YOU NEED TO LEARN SOME ENGLISH NICE AND PROPER, YA HEAR? THAT GOES FOR ALL Y’ALL. THIS IS CONFEDERATE AMERICA, RUNTS. WE FUCKING SPEAK ENGLISH HERE!”

The forman cowered.

“Oui!…Oui, Sir. D’accord!”

“WELL, BOYS…WHAT DO YA THINK?”

The giant young men mumbled to each other.

One Private spoke up.

“LOOKS GOOD, SIR….BUT NEEDS A SLIGHT…”ADJUSTMENT.”

The Private winked, and the other soldiers laughed in agreement.

“WHY, PRIVATE, I DO BELIEVE YOU ARE RIGHT. IT IS DAMN PERFECT. A TRUE REPRESENTATION OF OUR MIGHT…BUT IT DOES INDEED NEED A LIL ADJUSTMENT.”

The LT pointed to the Stars and Bars and a private approached and carefully removed the flag with great respect and care.

“GOOD…DON’T WANNA BE MUSSIN’ UP OUR SACRED FLAG…..NOW…WHERE WAS I….”

The soldier approached the statue, and the scaffold, with absolute disregard and care for the men atop it. His massive muscled arms extended out, crashing into the wooden structure, in order to grapple the statue underneath. The tiny men screamed out in terror and pain as they were crushed or flung to the ground below, the fall killing most. Some, broken and bloodied, were crushed under the soldier’s shifting boots.

The foreman cried out with one last plea.

“Mon Dieu….please!! Do not do is! This is for you, my Lords…why? Why??”

The soldier gave a quick glance and with a flick of his thumb and forefinger, the tiny frenchman was brutally flicked away, his broken dead body landing in one of the nearby Independence Hall boot prints.

The soldier has successfully wrapped around his bulging arms around the statue and began to lift. The accompanying giant young men began to shout their infamous rebel yells as the statue crumbled and separated from its base. The manly grunts could be heard for miles around. The LT smirked so broadly, his pearly white teeth glistened in the sun.

With a few steps, he stood over the remaining laborers and callously dropped the statue. In an instant, a hundred men were crushed or trapped under the iron work and copper. The soldier dusted off his hands and spoke to all around that were still clinging to life.

“IT’S GOOD….A DAMN GOOD STATUE…BUT IT AIN’T FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH…START OVER. BIGGER. BETTER.”

More rebel yells erupted as the soldiers slapped each other on the back and slowly stomped off, crushing as many fleeing Yanks as they could. It was their prerogative to do so and nobody would stomp them. Some, in desperation, ran over to the sacred boot prints and in a religious fervor bowed and prayed for forgiveness from their Southern Gods.

[darkhorsedrilling]

Do I Need Drilling or Boring? A Simple Guide for Homeowners in Jonesboro, AR

So, you need work done underground — maybe for a new water line, a well, or utility installation — but you're stuck on one big question:

Do I need drilling or boring?

Most homeowners don’t know the difference, and that’s okay. At Dark Horse Drilling, we’re here to break it down. This article will help you decide which service your project calls for — drilling or boring — and why the difference matters for your timeline, budget, and results.

The Quick Difference:

Drilling is vertical and is used to go straight down — like for water wells or soil sampling.

Boring is horizontal and used to go across — under roads, driveways, or landscaping without digging a trench.

Ask Yourself These 5 Questions

1. Do I need to go deep underground — or across my yard?

✔️ Deep = Drilling

✔️ Across = Boring

Example: Installing a water well? You’ll need drilling.

Running a water line from your home to the city tap under the driveway? You’ll need boring.

2. Is my project utility-related or structural?

✔️ Utility (pipes, cables, conduits) = Boring

✔️ Structural (foundation support, wells) = Drilling

Pro tip: If you’re installing underground power or water and want to avoid tearing up your yard, boring is the low-impact choice.

3. Do I want minimal surface damage?

✔️ Yes = Boring is better

❌ No or doesn’t matter = Drilling or excavation may be fine

Boring is trenchless, so it's ideal for landscaping, paved areas, or existing structures you don’t want disturbed.

4. How deep does the hole need to be?

✔️ Shallow, controlled path = Boring

✔️ Deep and narrow = Drilling

If you need depth for a water source or geotechnical sampling, drilling in Jonesboro AR is your solution.

5. Is your site tight or built-up?

✔️ Urban or tight access = Boring

✔️ Open rural land = Either can work

Boring equipment can squeeze into tighter work zones without needing a full excavation footprint.

Still Not Sure? That’s What We're Here For.

At Dark Horse Drilling, we don’t expect you to be an expert in subsurface services — that’s our job. We’ll walk your property, listen to your needs, and help you decide whether drilling or boring is the right solution.

Serving Jonesboro AR and the surrounding areas, we bring the expertise, equipment, and transparency needed to do the job right — from the ground down.

Ready to Talk?

Whether you’re planning a new build, installing utilities, or exploring water well options, we’re ready to help.

👉 Contact us today at https://www.darkhorsedrilling.com/ 

📍 Proudly serving Northeast Arkansas with professional boring, drilling, and excavation services.

[breakinglens]

Concrete Driveway Pouring Techniques Every Homeowner in Bellevue Should Know

When it comes to boosting curb appeal, ensuring durability, and improving the functionality of your property, a well-installed concrete driveway is a top investment. At bellevuenebraska, we specialize in delivering professional-grade concrete driveway pouring using reliable, time-tested techniques. Whether you're planning a new driveway or replacing an old one, understanding the process can help you make informed decisions and achieve the best results.

Why Choose Concrete for Your Driveway?

Concrete is a popular choice for residential driveways due to its strength, long lifespan, and low maintenance requirements. When poured and finished correctly, concrete driveways can last up to 30 years or more with minimal upkeep. Concrete also offers flexibility in design—think custom finishes, decorative patterns, and colored surfaces that can elevate the appearance of any home.

Step-by-Step Concrete Driveway Pouring Techniques

Here’s a closer look at how bellevuenebraska approaches a typical concrete driveway project:

1. Planning and Permits

Before any work begins, it’s essential to secure local permits and confirm utility lines aren’t in the way. We carefully assess the grade, drainage, and expected traffic load to design a driveway that performs under pressure.

2. Excavation and Base Preparation

We begin by excavating the area to the proper depth, usually 6–8 inches below the final surface level. The sub-base is then compacted and leveled, often using crushed stone or gravel, which provides stability and supports even weight distribution.

3. Formwork Installation

Wooden or metal forms are set up along the driveway perimeter. These forms define the shape and dimensions of the driveway and must be tightly secured to prevent any shifting during the pour.

4. Reinforcement

Depending on the load requirements, we use steel rebar or welded wire mesh to reinforce the concrete slab. This reinforcement helps prevent cracking and adds long-term durability.

5. Pouring the Concrete

Fresh concrete is poured starting from the lowest point of the slope. We use wheelbarrows, chutes, or concrete pumps to deliver the mix evenly across the form. It's crucial to work quickly, especially on warm days, as concrete sets rapidly.

6. Leveling and Screeding

Once poured, the concrete is leveled and screeded (smoothed) with a long straightedge tool. This ensures an even surface and removes excess material.

7. Floating and Edging

After screeding, we use hand floats and power tools to further smooth the surface and bring the finer cement paste to the top. Edgers are used to create rounded or beveled edges to prevent chipping.

8. Jointing

Control joints are placed at regular intervals using a groover or saw to allow for natural expansion and contraction. These joints help minimize unsightly cracks over time.

9. Finishing Touches

The surface finish can vary—from a broom texture for slip resistance to stamped patterns for a decorative touch. At bellevuenebraska, we offer a wide variety of finishes to match your home’s aesthetic.

10. Curing

Proper curing is vital. We typically use curing compounds or cover the driveway with plastic sheeting to retain moisture. Curing lasts at least 7 days to ensure the concrete reaches its maximum strength.

Best Practices for Longevity

Avoid driving on the new driveway for at least 7 days.

Seal the concrete every 2–3 years to protect against stains and weather damage.

Promptly clean oil or chemical spills to avoid discoloration.

Avoid using deicing salts during the first winter.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

1. How long does it take to install a concrete driveway?

The installation process usually takes 2–4 days, depending on the size and complexity. However, you’ll need to wait at least 7 days before driving on it and 28 days for full curing.

2. Can I customize the look of my concrete driveway?

Absolutely! At bellevuenebraska, we offer color tinting, stamping, and various finishing textures to give your driveway a unique and stylish appearance.

3. How thick should a concrete driveway be?

Residential driveways are typically 4 inches thick, but for heavier vehicles or frequent traffic, we recommend a thickness of 5–6 inches.

4. Will my concrete driveway crack over time?

All concrete has the potential to crack, but we minimize this by using reinforcement, proper joint spacing, and expert curing methods. Hairline cracks are usually cosmetic and can be sealed.

5. What is the cost of a concrete driveway in Bellevue, NE?

Costs vary based on size, thickness, finish type, and site preparation needs. Contact bellevuenebraska for a free, no-obligation estimate tailored to your property.

[minkahsieh]

Episode 18: Just a Kiss

14,000 km Back Home: A Woman's Silk Road Journey By Min Hsieh

---

Part 1: The Plan Chapter 4: Setting Foot on the Silk Road "I am doing something that will make me like myself more after I've done it."

---

Just a Kiss – Italy, DAY 56

After saying goodbye to Stefania's family, I continued heading south.

Leaving Naples, a city rich in historical stories, was not an easy task. The roads displayed a mix of Roman-era stone pavements, years of deterioration, and traces of modern renovations.

My wheels would first roll over a short stretch of asphalt, then drop onto ancient Roman stone slabs, then tumble through countless potholes where the stone slabs had crumbled, then jump back onto stone slabs, carefully sliding over broken asphalt fragments.

These road conditions continued for several kilometers with no end in sight. My hands and backside ached from the intense vibrations. I could only smile bitterly and comfort myself by imagining I was riding on a boulevard where ancient and modern merged, experiencing the changes of time while traveling through them.

My Couchsurfing host in Salerno, Marco, lived in an apartment in an old building. Italian houses are built quite spontaneously, with residential buildings following the contours of the hills without any pattern. Marco's apartment required climbing up three flights of stairs, passing different households' doors, before reaching a cave-like dwelling.

Marco recommended that one must-see attraction in Italy was Pompeii, which I had just passed. I recalled Iginio mentioning this city on Mount Vesuvius, telling me it had been swallowed by the volcano two thousand years ago. So the next day at noon, I took a train to visit this ancient city.

At Pompeii's ticket entrance, the winter weather and rain had left the tourist site almost empty. A guided tour would cost extra, so I decided to pay just the eleven-euro entrance fee.

Just past the ticket checkpoint, I was greeted by a staff member who spoke fluent English, which was rare in Italy.

"Darling, did they give you a map of this place at the ticket counter?" asked the short staff member with a mustache.

"Um, yes, here it is." I looked and noticed that besides my ticket, the clerk had also given me a map.

"Good, darling, give me the map." He took the map, opened it, and pointed to a spot, saying, "We're here now. First, we can visit this area, and you'll understand what exactly happened in Pompeii."

I thanked this enthusiastic staff member, thinking how good Italian service was, telling you where to start right at the entrance.

Just as I was about to take back the map, I realized he was already leading me forward.

"Darling, do you see these tiny stones? These are limestone particles that erupted from the volcano." I followed the mustached man's hand and nodded.

"You see, these ash particles originally contained large amounts of gas. With the power of the volcanic eruption, they fell here and covered the entire town nearly two meters high. Look, you can see the coverage line on this wall." He took me to another ruin where I could clearly see a line on the wall separating two colors.

"So, many people say Pompeii was destroyed by volcanic lava, but that's wrong. In fact, the people here died from gas poisoning. The incident happened at night when people were sleeping, which is why we were able to excavate many people in peaceful sleeping positions. But these are just researchers' speculations, as no records were left to tell us exactly what happened. Now, let me take you to the next place." The mustached man still held my map and walked toward the next direction.

"Excuse me, wait a moment." Something felt off—this entrance service was too good, almost like a guided tour. To avoid misunderstanding, I decided to clarify. "I didn't pay for a guided tour."

"Ah?" The mustached man paused and looked at me again. "No problem, darling. After the tour, you can just give me a kiss here." He pointed to his lips with his left index finger.

"Um, sorry, I can't kiss you either." In Italy, I knew rejection had to be straightforward and direct—absolutely no Asian-style politeness, or they would think I was playing hard to get.

"What? Not even a kiss?" I saw his shocked and disappointed expression, as if saying this was such a bargain and I still refused.

"Yes, no kissing either." I thought my message was clear—if you don't want to lose out, then back off; I won't pay and I won't kiss anyone.

"Fine! Then a kiss here is also acceptable." The mustached man showed a helpless face and pointed to his cheek with his index finger.

"Um, not there either." Apparently in Italy, people will bargain with you even on this. I imitated him by pointing to my own cheek, then wagged the same finger at him several times.

We were at a standoff for a while until he finally spoke again: "Alright! No problem. Since you're a beautiful woman, I'll guide you for free today! Rest assured, I am a legal professional Pompeii guide." He showed me the badge hanging on his chest.

Of course, at the end of the tour, this kiss-seeking mustached gentleman hoped I would kiss his cheek. I figured this was also part of Italian farewell customs, so I gave his cheek a quick kiss as thanks for the tour.

Thanks to this guide, I learned a lot about the historical background. Pompeii was active from ancient Greek to Roman Empire times (400 BCE to early CE). From the houses, shops, installations, and art left in the city, it was evident that over two thousand years ago, this was a very wealthy metropolis.

After exploring for more than four hours, I reluctantly left when the park was closing at dusk. As a result, I was caught in the rain for half the day, soaked from my feet to my thighs.

Sure enough, the next morning I woke up with a splitting headache and had vomited twice. I decided to take a train directly from Salerno to my Couchsurfing host's home in Taranto to recover.

---

📅 Time Frame: This story chronicles my journey across two continents between November 2013 and October 2014. Published independently in Taiwan in 2021, it is now shared as an English serialized novel through AI translation, connecting with friends worldwide to share this journey of personal growth.

📅 Next Episode: "The Surprise Room"

[nimblermortal]

The Archaeology of Shamanism Redux: Part 4

in which we get high without drugs

Chapter Ten: Social bonding and shamanism among Late Dorset groups in High Arctic Greenland, by Hans Christian Gulløv and Martin Appelt

This one read more like an explanation of how we get to the conclusions in the other chapters. It is using the use case of a particular... excavation in Greenland. I hesitate to say excavation because it seems like everything was already above ground; the chapter calls it a megalithic structure, and refuses to call it a longhouse because the entire point is that the authors don't think anybody lived there. Partly this is due to the structure of the thing and its similarity to structures in other places in the arctic/shamanistic north we've talked about before, and partly it's because there were quite a few different fire sites but none of 'em had much ash in. Not "lit a fire here to make dinner while we lived here for extended periods" amounts of fire remnant. More like "burned an offering maybe a coupla times a year" amounts of remnant. So they take this as evidence not just that this is a ritual site, but also that these were people who traveled repeatedly to return to a particular ritual site, found it worth setting up a structure to do their rituals in, and had a site that multiple groups (families?) used to do distinct rituals in. Sounded a bit like the setup for Icelandic things.

I learned from it that I do not find the actual groundwork of archaeology compelling.

Chapter 11: Shamanistic imagery and the Aurignacian art of southwest Germany, by Thomas A. Dowson and Martin Porr

So I'm gonna be real here for a quick minute: they found some very old wee statues and they think that the shape of them indicates shamanistic behavior, but when I was a kid I had wee horse statues to play with and I find that fact very distracting when I try to follow their conclusions. Yes, these things took 40 hours to carve, they're quite wee and quite good. And there's a good chance they weren't for kids. But. But. There are a lot of reasons humans make wee statues. And a lot of reasons we put many hours into pointless projects.

A lot of their analysis focuses on the human-lion statuette from Hohlenstein-Stadel. They point out that the hybrid human-animal thing could be representative of shamanistic transformation, as we have discussed in other chapters. They point out that the feet are pointed downwards, which is not good for standing, and try to draw analogies to the dream bear discussed in the Palaeo-Eskimo chapter. But. My toy horses often had crap feet that made them hard to balance! My grandmother went through a phase of painting gourds!

The statues are legitimately cool, I just find it hard to believe this one. And then there's the below paragraph, which... they've been doing a discussion about how the animal statues indicate postures that real animals actually do, and show a high degree of awareness of those animals' behaviors. Which makes sense! I just. They also point out that the horse was doing 'hey hot mama what are you doing tonight' postures, and don't take into account that like. Humans like Charismatic Megafauna Doing A Cool Pose. Anyway. There's this paragraph:

As the statuettes show a selection in favour of strong and large animals, carved with powerful expressions and postures of aggression, strength, and alertness, the statuettes reinforce notions of power and strength. As yet, no distinguishing features have been identified in the statuettes of mammoths. Nonetheless, they do represent a strong and powerful animal.

Chapter 12: Acoustics, monuments, and ritual in the British Neolithic, by Aaron Watson

Word of warning, this is one of the ones I thought was super cool. And I thought I knew where it was going, which is a very cool place, but it went beyond that.

Where I thought it was going: British ancient structures have a tendency toward caves accessed by narrow twisty passages, and for a long time we just thought about, you know, caves, passages, separation from daily life. But it turns out that some of these passages are in resonance/aurally connected, such that if you, say, beat a drum in Cave A, it sounds super cool, but you go above ground, you don't hear squat, but you go into Cave B and you can hear the drumming from Cave A and once again it sounds super cool

Where it actually went: Look guys. British shamans have this tremendous disadvantage in the world of altered states of consciousness. The drugs? They're just not there. So you gotta find an altered state somehow and it turns out. It turns out. People were building these ritual structures, right, caves behind narrow twisty passages. And those caves, they kiiiinda act like sensory deprivation chambers, which, sensory deprivation chambers do some freaky stuff to human brains. And that's all well and good but if you're like. In there with a bunch of other people? And you close the door? You might run low on oxygen pretty quick, maybe faster if you say lit a ritual fire. The sound deprivation might do some freaky stuff to your perception of other people's breathing. And then. Then. Dudes if you interrupt that state with say beating a drum at the resonance frequency of the structure? Holy cow. Dudes. If you set up a standing wave in an enclosed space, you can hear when someone changes position in that space. If you set up a standing wave in an enclosed space and alter it, you can achieve some freaky shit:

Volunters exposed to short bursts of infrasound created by drumming within the passage grave of Camster Round did report some unusual sensations, including dizzines, feelings of ascent, and modifications to breathing patterns and pulse.

Remember, some idea of flight is one of the core abilities/experiences to global shamanic phenomena.

+ the next sentence, "Irrespective of these effects, it has been shown that loud repetitive drumming can itself have an impact upon listeners" which, speaking as a capoeira player, yeah. Can concur, have experienced.

Anyway. We should maybe look at these structures with regard to more senses than just, say, sight and maybe touch.

[monsooninn]

Berakhot 12a: 4. "The Weavers."

While mankind fritters away its time, the fucktards are trying to reform the Soviet Union in order to evade the forces of justice and order. If I had my way, they'd be dead already and the freeways of freedom would be nearly finished.

No one knows Israel was supposed to be a single sovereign state or the Palestinians, who used to be Ottomans were Hitler's BFFs, and now they are trying again to pursue some fictitious satanic vendetta against the Jews. The capper though is watching Elon Musk french kiss Donald Trump, in public. Did I mention they should both be dead already?

I supplied information AGAIN to the US Department of Homeland Security indicating our own home grown terrorist organization, the excavators of the terror tunnels in Gaza and elsewhere, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is still at large, and so is its most major proponent DONALD TRUMP but nothing is being done to clear the air. Everyone is blaming Israel, the source and cause of our salvation for what ails us and it just ain't so.

About all of this, called antichrist, there is a Mishnah:

4. And the ten commandments "Hear", "And it was if he heard", "And he said", "Truth and will stand", and work, and the blessing of priests.

Hear ye mankind: The Decrees are not being followed and gross and disgusting men and women are winning this world away from its maker and all of His Nation.

Rise up, and kill Donald Trump, the Republican lawmakers that helped him cheat his way into power and wage a war of horror and debauchery against the human race and kill all of his allies in Hamas, Hezbollah, Iran, North Korea, and Russia and the blessings of the priests will follow as promised.

The Value in Gematria is 5966, הטוו‎‎‎, the hatv, "the Loom."

The etymology refers not to weaving but to the mixing of dyes of red and blue to create purple, "ritual purity plus intellect" the recipe for civilization.

"The verb ארג ('arag) means to weave, and describes people weaving cloth (2 Kings 23:7) or spiders weaving webs (Isaiah 59:5). Mostly, the verb is used as a substantive meaning either weaver (Isaiah 38:12), or the work of a weaver; that what's weaved (Exodus 28:32). This verb's derivatives are:

The masculine noun ארג ('ereg) meaning loom (Judges 16:14, Job 7:6 only).

The masculine noun ארגמן ('argaman), meaning purple, or rather purple items (Exodus 25:4, Numbers 4:13, Esther 1:6). Although this noun neatly fits this root, it's probably imported from Sanskrit."

Allowing ritually impure ignorant filth to operate on the soil of this planet and oppress the poor and dislocated is not acceptable. They have to be dealt with and then all the remaining institutions have to rescue those who are praying to God for help. Especially in America where the government thinks it can operate a failed state with an unelected mass murdering dictator who traffics in sex with minors as its future president.

[easytakeoff]

What to Ask Before Buying Construction Estimating Software

In the construction industry, accuracy and efficiency in cost estimation can make or break a project. From bidding to budgeting, construction estimating software is an essential tool that helps contractors, project managers, and construction firms stay competitive. But with so many software solutions available, how do you choose the right one? The decision can be overwhelming, and to make sure you're selecting a product that meets your specific needs, it’s important to ask the right questions before making a purchase.

Here are some key questions to ask before buying construction estimating software:

1. Is the Software Tailored to My Industry?

Every sector within the construction industry has unique requirements. General contractors, specialty contractors, and heavy civil contractors all have different needs. Some Excavation Estimating Software may be designed specifically for residential construction, while others may cater to commercial or industrial projects. Understanding whether the software is tailored to your specific type of construction work is critical.

Key question: Does this software have features that align with the needs of my specific construction field?

Look for features like trade-specific cost libraries, templates, and workflows that cater to your industry.

2. Is the Software Easy to Use and Learn?

The complexity of construction projects requires estimating software that is powerful, but also easy to navigate. Some software solutions offer advanced features but come with a steep learning curve, which can result in longer onboarding times and reduced productivity.

Key question: How user-friendly is this software, and how long does it take to get up to speed?

Many companies offer demo versions or trials. It's a good idea to test how intuitive the interface is and whether your team can easily learn the system. Also, ensure there is good customer support and training resources to assist with onboarding.

3. Does the Software Integrate with Other Tools I Use?

Construction professionals use a variety of Takeoff Software solutions, from project management to accounting and payroll systems. Your estimating software needs to integrate smoothly with these tools to avoid information silos and manual data entry errors.

Key question: Does this software integrate with my current project management, accounting, or CRM systems?

The more seamlessly your estimating software can communicate with other systems, the more efficient your workflows will be. Look for software with API capabilities, or pre-built integrations with commonly used tools in the construction industry.

4. What Are the Software’s Features and Capabilities?

Different estimating software offers varying levels of functionality. Some systems might be ideal for small firms with straightforward needs, while others offer advanced features like detailed material takeoffs, 3D modeling integration, and automated bid comparisons. Knowing the full range of features can help you assess if the software will grow with your company’s needs or become obsolete quickly.

Key question: What features does this software offer, and how will they benefit my estimating process?

Consider the level of automation, the types of reports it can generate, and whether it offers cloud-based access for working on-site or from different devices.

5. What Is the Total Cost of Ownership?

Price is always a major consideration. However, the cost of estimating software isn’t just the initial purchase or subscription price. You also need to consider the cost of implementation, training, support, and potential upgrades down the line.

Key question: What is the total cost of owning and maintaining this software?

Ask about hidden costs, such as fees for additional users, custom features, or future software upgrades. Ensure the cost aligns with your budget and offers good value for the investment.

6. Is the Software Scalable?

As your business grows, your needs will evolve. It's important to select software that can scale with your business, accommodating more users, larger projects, and increased data without significant disruptions or additional cost.

Key question: Can this software handle my company’s growth, and does it offer scalable solutions?

Ask if the software can support more complex projects, larger teams, and more advanced estimating tasks without requiring a complete system overhaul.

7. What Kind of Support and Training Is Provided?

No matter how easy a system is to use, there will always be times when your team needs support. Whether it's troubleshooting an issue, learning about a new feature, or optimizing current processes, timely and reliable customer support is crucial.

Key question: What customer support and training resources are available?

Find out if the company offers live chat, phone support, and online resources like tutorials and webinars. Also, ask if they provide onboarding and training services to help get your team up and running smoothly.

8. Does the Software Keep Up with Industry Standards and Regulations?

The construction industry is always evolving, and it’s important that your estimating software stays current with industry standards, building codes, and regulations.

Key question: How often is the software updated to reflect changes in the construction industry?

Make sure the software provider regularly updates the system to stay compliant with new codes and industry best practices.

Conclusion

Choosing the right Construction Estimating Software is a significant decision that can have a lasting impact on your business’s efficiency and profitability. By asking the right questions—such as evaluating industry specificity, usability, integrations, scalability, and cost—you can ensure that you select a solution that aligns with your current needs and future growth. Take your time to research, request demos, and gather feedback from others in your industry. The right software will help streamline your estimating process and set you up for long-term success.

Read Also: How Does Construction Estimating Software Save Time?

[elljayvee]

Oh, I probably turned it off for spam reasons. Anyway! That story was inspired by Mike Resnick's "Seven Views of Olduvai Gorge" and it's about a party of archaeologists excavating the Jedi Temple on Coruscant at some far-future date. Rather than follow Resnick's format exactly, I'm also interleaving it with academic articles written by members of the expedition.

Excerpt 1:

The Force cult "Jedi" is widely regarded as having been destroyed in the political violence that erupted when the First Galactic Republic fell to the Galactic Empire. We demonstrate that evidence from post-GE and post-Second Galactic Republic archaeological sites indicates that at least some organized Jedi practitioners survived and continued to practice their faith inside the Core Worlds until at least 100 years post-SGR. It is only with the final reorganization of planetary systems into autonomous sectors without a central, unifying governmental power that evidence of actual Jedi practice disappears from the former Core Worlds and Mid-Rim. Harabesh, A.K. (5038). Jedi survival in the core worlds. Journal of Galactic Archaeology, 100 (4), 13-21.

Excerpt 2:

I, myself, do the energy work of reading the history of an object. The Jedi believed this to be a rare skill, and they called it psychometry or retrocognition; in fact, it is quite common among some species. Among my own, it is universal; we can all assimilate the experiences an object has, the emotional impressions left upon it, with ease. None of us have ever been Jedi, though, not even as far back as the beginnings of things. "Never, He Who Views?" asked a Skywalker, the first day, as we set up camp.

"Not once, in all your history..." began the other, and then the first Skywalker finished for them, for so conversations with them went, most times.

I was tagged by @birdylion!

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. tag as many people as you have wips. people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

well, I don't have a coherent wip folder -- lots of things are in my notes app, most older unfinished things are sorted into folders by fandom on my actual hard drive. I do have a wildly unsorted set of things on my google drive, though....I would love to answer asks about any of these!

the spexcel sheet and spoogle calendar star wars au

Maia raised with Arbelan AU

OWK AU Vader Fight

Seven Views of the Coruscant Temple

REVISED CONCEPT batb sedoretu

Canticle

the one with the fantasy blowjob in the opera box

curse of millhaven

the magic boat controls the genre bc bas said so

tesseract

good omens tv outsider pov

the one where crowley is a woman to start

the empty space mark II

the empty space

the mary lives johnlockary au

the vader lives au thing

bffwb

I don't think I can tag that many people, but I'll tag a few...feel free to ignore, folks! @basinke @hafital @beatrice-otter @cosmictuesdays @roselightfairy

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

I don’t want to hear thoughts... Unless they’re yours

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff / Reader Word count: 3k Summary: Wanda wanted to live the normal life she was never afforded, but something was always missing. Something she denied herself and buried deep inside. But watching you move next door, she quickly realizes that this may not be possible for much longer. Warning: Spoilers for MoM. This will be a multi-chapter fic and it’s only the beginning. Smut in future chapters. This is just fluffy, so i can set the story up. It will get far more heated as the story progresses.     Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6, Part 7; Part 8; Part 9; Part 10 Series materlist                                     Masterlist of all my works

                                                 Chapter 1 Wanda Maximoff watched from a distance as you moved in to the house next door. It used to belong to a family, an ordinary one, with two kids and a yappy dog that she disliked, but the kids adored, including her own two boys. Closing the Darkhold was hard. Even harder to choose to survive it. She certainly didn’t plan on it. But the human spirit is a hard thing to kill, she knew that. She had been broken so many times, in so many ways, she had lost so much… Too much. Yet here she stood. The universe presenting yet another chance for her. A chance she had no intention of wasting. It took her a long time to build the life she had now. Years. After she closed the Darkhold, governments of multiple nations tried to get to that place, excavate what was left. They were looking for the Darkhold, for a way to still salvage it. They were looking for her too. So she made the only smart move she had. She found them first. She used all her leverage, all her power and all her will, but she made a deal. She would help… When the world was ending and when Earth needed its heroes, she will be there, and she will fight. But until that day comes, she will be left alone. To live a life of her choosing, a calm, normal life. The one she was never afforded. Hands were shaken, secret deals were made, records were deleted and a well-placed cyber-attack destroyed all images and videos of Wanda Maximoff. It was good to still have friends. Tony Stark never supported her publicly, never spoke on her behalf, but when her battle was won, he hired all the right people, took all the necessary measures and made sure that the world would forget who Wanda Maximoff was, or what she had done. He also gave her the keys to a nice new car, his final words to her a whisper. ‘’You deserve to be happy.’’ She didn’t think that was possible, but she knew exactly what she wanted to do with her new life, so as soon as she made sure that there was nothing but dust on that mountain, that there would be no Darkhold to open, she moved with nothing but the clothes on her back. She found a house for sale. A quaint, welcoming house in the city of Eastview. Yes, she knew… A little on the nose. But she liked the place, liked the calm life she saw a glimpse of, before it all went to hell. She also liked the reference to a life not quite real, a life meant to be hers, but forever stolen. But this time Wanda had learned her lesson. She used her magic subtly, never to solve her problems and never to hurt others. She also kept her mind closed to all the thoughts that constantly threatened to drown out her own. She was never quite used to it before, always feeling just a little schizophrenic for hearing voices in her head. And the voices only grew louder, the stronger she became. But she also became much better at blocking them out. Her mind a fortress and her resolve to stay away from all the old habits that ruined her life in the past, a constant reminder that her powers were better left buried. After she settled, money never being an issue, since being an Avenger landed her more money than she ever thought possible, Wanda decided to follow the dreams she never had a chance to indulge. She immersed herself in hobbies, painting and cooking always being her favorite. But something was missing. Something big! A family. And though she never thought anyone could replace Vision, the idea of children never stopped haunting her. She didn’t just want them. She knew she had them. She had met them… Refusing to use her magic again, realizing how easy it was to destroy something gained from magic, she did something far more permanent. Wanda Maximoff decided that she didn’t need a man to be a mother. She just needed their seed and artificial insemination soon presented itself as the best option. When the treatment was successful, Wanda was beside herself. She was pregnant. The right way this time. The slow way. And despite all her resistance to her powers, she did something. Something that perhaps broke the deal she made, while gaining her new life, but she didn’t care. She made sure that she will have twin boys. Boys that would look just like the ones she had in Westview. The boys she had always had in every other universe. When they were born, she named them Billy and Tommy. In her mind they were her boys. The same ones. And she was going to live the life she was owed. People in Eastview were as boring as they come. She had read all her neighbors minds, found all their dirty and not so dirty secrets, all in the name of keeping her family safe. Of keeping her boys safe. And when the next door neighbors proved to be an ordinary couple, she made sure that their children and hers were fast friends. She organized sleepovers, they hosted pool parties, the kids played together in the yard… Life was boring and absolutely as perfect as it could be. Her twins were 4, when the family next door moved out, deciding to move after Phil got a great new job offer in a new city. Their house had been empty ever since. Five months had passed and her boys missed their friends dearly and though she tried to organize other play dates for them, it never quite worked out the same way. So she reluctantly signed them up for day care. Not for her sake. Never. Wanda didn’t want the boys to leave her side even for a moment. But they needed friends their own age, needed to spend time with people, other than their mother. So Wanda did the only logical thing. Dove into days of research and scoped out all the daycares, read the mind of each teacher, until she was satisfied and signed them up. A month later, you showed up. You had been offered a nice promotion in your company and a hefty pay increase, if you would agree to move to middle of nowhere - Eastview and be part of the new office they intended to start there, heading a project for one of your big clients. You hesitated. Of course, you did! It was a great opportunity, but it was also … Well… Middle of nowhere - Eastview. But you saw a wonderful house, Greek revival style, with beautiful columns and a pool at the back and you thought… Why not! The rent cost just a little more than your shitty apartment in the big city and the town looked nice. You had little friends and your girlfriend had left you seven months ago, telling you that you’re clingy and too unsocial and that she needed someone who would match her energy… Meaning, someone, who partied and had an endless circle of friends, snorted happy pills and just so happens to be her new ‘’friend’’ Jess. You didn’t mind that she left. It wasn’t going to work out between you anyway. You were never real in front of her. You never showed her who you really are. And if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t like who she was either. So when the offer came you called your mom and talked about it for hours on end… In the morning, you marched into the office and said ‘’Yes’’. You signed all the paperwork and made sure that that house would be your new home. A new beginning. You filled up your car, watched the moving company load all your furniture in a huge truck and left. Now you were finally here. The house looked even more beautiful up-close. The second-floor bedroom had huge windows and access to the balcony, which stood proudly over the heavy columns and you already made plans of placing a nice table and a couple of chairs there, so you can have your morning coffee. The kitchen was big and bright, the second-floor bathroom had a huge tub. The iron fence was painted black and was ornately decorated with abstract flower motives that you thought suited it perfectly. And the second-floor room that overlooked the pool looked perfect for a library. You already saw yourself fill it with shelves from floor to ceiling and your desk would look just perfect near the window. You took a week off, so you could organize your house and move. You watched with delight as the house filled with all your things and became home. You woke up happy and relaxed in the new environment, wondering why you felt so anxious to move in the first place. It was perfect. The house was perfect, the people seemed nice and friendly. The whole place seemed so serene, you thought you could stay here forever. Wanda had watched you from afar ever since you arrived, gently probing your mind. She thought of it as research and she always kept in mind the excuse that she was doing it all for the safety of her children, as she got to know more and more about you. She told herself that every time she invaded your privacy. But the truth was that the longer she spent time surrounding herself with your voice, the more she found your mind captivating. You enjoyed architecture, so she watched through your minds eye the small details of the house next door that she never noticed before. The idea of your dreamhouse was often at the front of your mind when you were outside, admiring the structure, noticing the details that you would have changed, should you have owned the house and Wanda couldn’t help but fall in love with the idea of your dream home. She listened silently as you made plans and watched them come to life soon after. When you weren’t working on your home, you were cooking, or reading. Your mind always drifted to beautiful daydreams and quotes that you found inspirational or simply touching. She found so many books there that you held fondly in your mind and the connections you made with them. She discovered so many movies and TV shows, some of which her own favorites too. She found your favorite songs and that you couldn’t listen to them every day, because they made you feel too much, so you liked to turn to more generic music, that helped your mind drift. As the week passed, Wanda kept her mind open more often, perhaps for the first time in years. When she wasn’t with the boys, or devoted to her own chores or activities, she always let her psychic power drift to you. She took the ideas from your head and after putting the boys to sleep, she watched the movies you enjoyed, waiting at the edge of her seat for your favorite part to come, the quote already on her tongue. She went to the book store too and bought some of your favorite books, delighted to discover the words you had engraved on your memory and feeling them for herself. She felt like she was getting to know you, despite the fact that she hadn’t introduced herself and her boys yet. And the longer she immersed herself in your private little world, the more she wanted to meet you. After days of hearing your thoughts and slowly surrounding herself in everything that made your heart sing, Wanda could delay no longer. She needed to meet you. Needed to finally see the face of the woman, who had filled her with so much poetry. So she did the one thing she could. Baked an apple pie, knowing how much you loved it, from finding it in your thoughts and she marched over. It was a Saturday afternoon, the sky beautiful and cloudless and so wonderfully blue, as she made her way to your house, knowing that you were in the living room, organizing. You were playing some music, which she knew was either a distraction from the times your thoughts got too loud, or a way for you to fight boredom. She wasn’t sure what she expected from this interaction, wasn’t quite sure what she wanted… She just knew she liked you and that she wanted you to like her too. When she rang the doorbell, Wanda discovered with surprise that she was nervous, perhaps for the first time in years and she braced herself for the moment she would see your face up-close for the very first time. She had seen you from a distance, watching intently through her window, but she never got a chance to really study your features. She heard your steps approaching, your mind still singing along the lyrics of a song she didn’t know and keeping any thoughts from surfacing. The quietness of your mind only unnerved her more. But she had no time to think about that as your front door opened and your face reviled itself. A genuine, kind smile was the first thing Wanda saw. Followed by the features of your face, that immediately studied her, perhaps just as attentively as she studied yours. She found you beautiful to look at and she immediately decided that she’ll make an effort to see more of you. - Hi, I’m Wanda! – She introduced herself, her right hand extended as she was balancing the pie in her left. – Wanda Maximoff. I live next door with my sons. I just wanted to introduce myself and welcome you to the neighborhood. ‘’Beauty is not caused. It is.’’ – Wanda’s eyes sparkled, recognizing the words, as you took her hand in yours and shook it briefly. It was from Emily Dickinson and the words shone in your mind so clearly, she felt herself blush and she pulled herself away from your thoughts, in order to keep herself calm and collected. She had heard so much of the author’s poetry from your mind that she ended up reading it for herself, only to discover that it sounded so much sweeter when it came from you. - Oh, thank you! It’s so kind of you to come by! I would invite you in, but I’m only just settling and the house is such a mess, I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself… I’m Y/N, by the way. Y/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you, Wanda. - Oh, don’t be silly, I wouldn’t want to intrude! Especially on such short notice. I just thought I should be neighborly and say ‘’Hi’’, bring you a pie and make sure you feel welcome. I’m sure I’m not the first. - You’re very much the first. – You say shyly, still studying her features. Her eyes were stunning and the intense gaze that accompanied them, made you feel like she could see into your soul. – But I’m happy to meet the neighbors. Have you lived here long with your family? – You asked, trying to distract yourself from her obvious beauty. - About five years. – She replies with a nod of hear head, as if confirming the number to herself. – I know it looks quaint, but trust me, it grows on you! I had my reservations too, but everyone is so nice and friendly, you’ll feel at home in no time. - Yeah? - Absolutely! – Wanda assures you as she reaches her hand and squeezes one of yours. – The family that lived here before you gave me the same welcome when I first got here and we became such good friends! My boys used to come over every Saturday to swim with their children. I sometimes think they like staying here more than they like staying at our house! – Wanda ranted with a smile, embracing her best personification of a suburban housewife and watched you smile at her excitedly. - Well, you guys can still come over. The pool is great and I really don’t mind. - Nonsense! We wouldn’t dream of bothering you! – Wanda deflects, secretly hoping you’ll extend the invitation again. - No bother at all. I’ll be working most of the week. It would be nice to know that at least someone is enjoying the place. – You say warmly. You weren’t sure why you were offering up so much of your space to this stranger, but the woman was just so charming, you couldn’t resist. - You’re too kind to offer, Y/N! – Wanda could barely contain herself. Despite being in Eastview for so long, she didn’t have many friends. The ability to read minds and hear thoughts was unsurprisingly repelling, especially when people couldn’t filter thoughts the way they did words. She often felt it was a burden and rarely enjoyed this side of her gifts. But she liked your thoughts and hoped she would be allowed to spend more time around you, so this offer came as a welcome relief. – What do you do? - The company I work for is opening a new branch here and I was offered to head a project for one of our customers. – You say, stepping out of the doorway and onto your porch. - That’s exciting! – Wanda gives you a smile, already knowing all this. Now that she was talking with you, she wanted to extend this interaction. Her train of thought is interrupted when Billy and Tommy step out of her house and call out to her. - That’s my cue. – She tells you. – Look at me… I came here to give you a pie and I almost left with it! Here, I hope you enjoy it, Y/N. You take it hesitantly, barely able to say thank you, before she leaves and you watch her hurriedly approach her house and herding her children inside. You’re still at your front door as she disappears inside, a little stunned, but generally uplifted by the woman and the positivity that seemed to ooze out of her. Eastview really was wonderful, as far as you were concerned and as you were walking inside your new home, pie in hand, the apple aroma filling your nostrils, you genuinely felt excited about what would your next day bring. ________________________________________________________ Ok, so... I rarely write milty-chapter stories and this is only chapter one, so please let me know if you want to know where this goes. Your general thoughts are always appreciated too!