#I'm gonna bring all the equipment into a store and stay there until they take it back and cancel the service

[tea-and-naps]

Scheduled installation for a new ISP wish me luck cancelling Xfinity

[aik-membrane]

OOC: Heart-Aik: Aik Membrane's Prequel

Chapter Sixteen

Ft mentions of @ambassador-d1b

Extra note: Crime works how I want in Universe 15

<July 29th, 2005 continued>

"Alright, you have some explaining to do. You didn't mention anything about a family or ranks!" Aik took off the coat as soon as they were in the house. "And faith? Is this a religion?"

"Alright Shank, take it easy. I swear it's not what you think," Percy said.

"Really? Cuz it sounds like you tricked me into joining your wannabe church crime gang."

"No I tricked them into joining, now listen-"

"This is just stupid," Aik huffed.

Percy sighed heavily. "Shank, I'm only telling this to you because I know you're smart enough to be valuable. And because you owe me your life, so if you dared to rat on me, you'd be in more trouble than when you started. I don't actually believe any of the bullshit I teach these guys. I'm a conman and a weapons dealer, I didn't start the cult, a distant uncle did, and they asked me to take over when he died. And believe me. Having 30 loyal followers who do your bidding, including transporting illegal goods and secret letters to real clients, is extremely useful in my line of work. It's a safe neighborhood for me to store goods, they all pay me a tithe and have their own jobs, and if I am too close to being caught by police, I just slip the cops a 'naughty' member of the cult to punish the member for their sins and throw the cops off my scent. Only had to do that twice now. With cops. I've done it three times with mob bosses."

Aik just stayed silent. He had very little idea how the outside world worked. Half of Percy's explanation made zero sense to him. And the half he did understand he didn't like at all.

"But you're not gonna be one of those followers, you're too smart for that and you're actually capable of fighting. Once you complete training, you'll go up in ranks automatically just to keep up appearances, but I'm more interested in getting you in a ring. Get some extra cash," Percy said with a grin.

"A ring?" Aik asked skeptically.

"Underground fight ring, yeah. There's one about two hours south, we'd make bank if you can sharpen your skills. A portion of it would go towards equipment for your brother, some to basic necessities, and then I'd take a small cut since I organized it all. You'd get most of it though, since you'd be the one fighting. What do you think? A great way to get money. We can also pull a small jewelry heist or I can teach you classic con skills while there," Percy said. "What do you think, Shank?"

"I have to think about it. It's too late to think more tonight," Aik replied. "I need sleep."

"Ahh smart kid, alright, did you pick out a room yet?"

Aik shrugged.

"Take any of them, see you in the morning," Percy said.

Aik nodded and went up the stairs. He was a bit intimidated by them, he always was. But he never hesitated too long so Percy wouldn't notice.

He went upstairs, picked the first room that was empty, and got into the bed. He didn't bother getting dressed, he was too tired. And he did have a lot of thinking to do.

The more time passed, the longer it seemed like it would be before he could get Dib back. In the meantime, he had no idea what Membrane was doing to his brother.

He liked the idea of fighting, but this whole situation was sketchy and felt dangerous. He couldn't bring Dib here, but he couldn't leave Dib with Membrane either.

Maybe Percy would let him work alone and away from this weird 'family' after they got Dib out. It would be just Aik and Dib, Aik wouldn't have to worry about anything else and he could get his own jobs.

He made a note to bring it up with Percy in the morning and let himself fall into a light sleep.

<July 30th, 2005>

"Work for me only until you get your brother?" Percy asked. "And then you'd both move on?"

Aik nodded, eating from a bowl of oatmeal.

"Huh. Yeah, I'm good with that I guess. As long as you're able to be on your own by then," Percy said.

"I would be. I'm capable," Aik replied.

Percy gave Aik a flat look. "You're ten."

"And you're balding."

Percy spluttered. "No I am not! Hell, you are rude."

Aik snickered.

Percy rolled his eyes. "You're lucky I like you, Shank. I saved your life and you sass me? Tsk, how dare," he chuckled.

"How did you find me, anyway?" Aik asked.

"Coincidence actually. I had just finished a weapons deal not far from the labs and heard the commotion of fire. I went to watch, hoping to loot some good shit and got to loot you," Percy explained.

Aik rolled his eyes. "I'm not loot."

"Nah, of course not."

"Good, glad we agree on that."

"Anyway, finish eating, I'm going to train you today," Percy said.

Aik nodded, taking the last bite of oatmeal. "I'm also going to start working on a prosthetic arm."

"I've already got one for you," Percy said.

"Hey, I told you I wanted to make my own," Aik grumbled.

"Yeah but you can use this one to help work on it, okay? Come on, let's go." Percy led Aik to the library and entered the code to open the secret door. Aik followed, annoyed at being brushed off, but he did want the training.

Behind the door was a set of stairs going down into darkness. Percy flipped a switch and light filled the cavernous descent. It had a red carpet, brown walls, and a musty smell.

Aik peered down the stairs, hesitant to go down first. But he didn't have to, Percy went down without hesitation. "Come on, kid. Sorry about the smell, I keep all sorts of goods in here."

Aik cringed, wondering what goods Percy meant, then followed him down. He already didn't like stairs, he wasn't used to them at all. These were even worse.

The stairs creaked at each step, and it felt like the walk down took forever. And it opened into a large basement, with tools, weapons, bags, boxes, shelves, and a particular empty corner that the musty smell seemed to be coming from.

"Here's the prosthetic arm I got." Percy picked up a long white box and opened it for Aik to look inside. The box held a gray, stiff looking robot arm. It didn't even look like a prosthetic, it literally looked like Percy stole it off a Membrane Lab security drone.

"Yeah, no thanks, I'll make my own," Aik repeated.

"Well then use these pieces to start," Percy insisted, setting the box down again.

"Yeah, whatever. Let's get to training."

"Right. This knife should suit you well." Percy picked a small knife, similar in size to Aik's shank and handed it to him. "Let's start some tests to see where you need to improve and what you need to be taught. See that target down there?" He pointed to a well used red and white target made out of plywood and spray paint.

Aik nodded.

"From where you're standing now, try to throw that knife as close to the center as you can," Percy directed.

Aik looked at the knife in his hand and felt it over. He wasn't used to holding this type of weapon, it took him a moment to wrap his fingers around it in a way that felt natural. He looked back at the target and took aim. Some quick calculations, an adjustment of his grip, and a flick of his wrist, the knife landed embedded in the target an inch from the center of the board.

"Hey, not bad at all Shank," Percy said with a nod. "You need some practice to gain speed and precision, and feel more comfortable with a blade. Have you ever tried a gun?"

"No," Aik replied.

"Well, we'll train you on that too. As well as your muscles and stamina. Ooh Shank, you're going to be incredible."

[libraryspectre]

Alright class,

I've been thinking about how Murderbot might feel to hear mining labor songs that, from it's perspective, are hundreds or even thousands of years old. It would bring the realization that, while mining technology has come a long way, working conditions have always been horrifically unsafe and exploitative. Technology improves, but corporate greed is forever, and workers are always expendable! The accident in this song is caused by a timber cracking - can you imagine Murderbot going to future Genius lyrics and learning that miners used to descend into the earth with only wooden beams holding the tunnel open? I think that would seem unimaginably primitive, and yet, of course the miners did it anyway, if they had no choice the way current miners do.

This song also has a noise throughout that's meant to sound like a pickaxe striking. It's one of the first things you hear and helps build the atmosphere. I wonder if Murderbot would recognize the sound at all - this is either another unbelievably primitive technology, or, if the contracts it was on did use pickaxes in some way, a very unpleasant sense memory.

One thing this song lacks is the mention of the company town, which, I think, is partially why I've seen people drawing lines between TMBD and Sixteen Tons ("Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I cain't go/ I owe my soul to the company store") but the narrative of this song would resonate in other ways!

First let's establish that I know Murderbot was not a miner, it was there to keep the miners safe/in line. I know that, but they were all down in the mine together and enslaved to the same Company, so we're gonna talk about the parallels anyway.

The song begins by establishing the character of Big John - a guy who's intimidatingly big, a little scary, but quiet and shy. People don't seem to have a problem with him, but he's a little scary and they stay out of his way. One day in the mines, a timber cracks, and the rest of the miners are saved by Big John being tall and strong enough to take the place of the timber (making himself a piece of equipment, you could argue,) until the others can get out. I'm gonna quote this because it's one of my favorite song lyrics of all time (THE IMAGERY!)

Of course, this leaves Big John trapped behind, but once the men are out, they scramble to go back with equipment to fix the problem and save him. They aren't fast enough, but Big John is honored after his death with a marble plaque (and the closing of the mine. I particularly like the contempt with which the singer calls it a "worthless pit"). The plaque, depending on the version you listen to, says either "at the bottom of this mine lies one hell of a man/a big, big, man". The first is cool and the second is kinda corny, and I can see why they took the chance to change it for the re-record, but dang. The people he saved really didn't know anything else about him!

How many SecUnits do you think Murderbot has seen die to save people who didn't give it another thought? How many times do you think it put itself in harms way, willingly or otherwise, for people who didn't care if it lived or died?

I think the other miners going back for Big John would be a pleasant surprise for Murderbot, but it's double-sided. Big John lived friendless and alone, and was still appreciated for his sacrifice, which is really nice! But it's more than any SecUnit ever got, until Murderbot met the PresAux crew.

There's so much in this song Murderbot wouldn't have context for, like what a Cajun or an oak tree is, but a lot of this would be far too familiar. In conclusion, worker solidarity. Join your union.

(If you read all this and still haven't listened to the song, please do! Side note, I remember vividly the first time I heard it: I was 8 and bickering with my little brother in the car. This song came on just as my mom was about to tell us to cut it out, and instead she turned it up and the pickaxe sound shut us up immediately.)

Knowing that Murderbot worked on a lot of mining contracts gives me so many thoughts connecting that to old folk songs about mining (particularly Big John) but I have no idea what the Venn diagram of "people who have read Murderbot" and "people who have listened to Big John" is

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Unexpected Places (Pt. 09 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 2.6 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

<- Previous part (08)

Next part (10)->

{Vikings Masterlist}

×

Make Me Fly

It has been an interesting week. Bjorn hasn't been around lately, since he and Ragnar are starting to gather people for the next raid. Winter will be over soon enough, and apparently, they start getting ready a long time before sailing. You're trying not to think too much about it, since you know Ivar is going.

But that's an issue for when the winter is over, and it isn't yet, and won't be for quite a while. On Ivar's bed, already dressed for the day, you're kneeled behind him, braiding his hair. You've been sleeping here now, and of course, the news got out, even though you don't really know how. Hvitserk was the first to know, so he told Aslaug and Ubbe. Ragnar found out quickly after, meaning it got to Bjorn's ears as well. Then, you started noticing people staring, and some rumors, according to Helga. You were under Aslaug's protection, but the rumor that you're with Ivar makes people scared of you. You don't mind though, but you still haven't spoken with Ivar about it. You want things to just happen instead of pushing it because of what people are saying.

“There you go.” You say when the braids are done. “I'm getting really good at this.”

Ivar runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the braids softly. His hair is long now, and he agreed on not cutting it short again. “You're getting great at this.” He says, grabbing your hand and pulling you down again, so you have both your arms around his neck. “I want to show you something today.”

“What?” You ask hands on his chest.

“I'm gonna show you how I ride on the battlefield.” His voice gets a little darker, and you know he's not joking. “I know you've been asking yourself that.”

“I know you can fight.” Getting up from the bed, you move to stand before him. “I just don't know how, but I don't doubt it.”

“We still have some weeks, but I'll be sailing to England again.” Ivar takes his clutch and gets up to his feet. “No need to hide it, I know you're worried.”

“Worried isn't the right word... Maybe anxious.” You start making your way to the door, and Ivar unlocks and pulls it open for you. “I know some people don't come back and I've never been through anything like that. I don't how those who stay deal with the waiting.” You set a comfortable pace, walking side by side with him.

“You'll get used to it. That's the way things have always been here.”

“I know.” When you cross the main hall, you wave at Hvitserk and Ubbe, muttering a ‘hello’ to Bjorn, since you've been trying to ease the ever-growing tension between the two brothers.

Ivar guides you through the city and then through the forest to a wooden structure built among the trees. There are some men around, and the doors are open. You're way too curious about it, but you manage to wait until you reach the building. There are several horses inside, some war equipment and ballistic devices you don't recognize, many shields and swords.

“Storage?” You ask.

“Yes. But that's the only thing that really matters.” He gestures at the very end of the barn, and that's when you see it.

“What's that?” Walking faster, you make your way towards it, ignoring everyone around. You've never seen anything like it. They keep a certain distance from it, you noticed. You wonder how many times they had Ivar yelling at them to stay away from his things.

“It's a war chariot.” He answers as you walk around it, stepping up and inside. “With it, I can march into battle. Lead troops in combat.”

In the center, there's a structure for Ivar to sit, so you walk around it, standing on the edge. You can't help but imagine how it must feel to be in such a position, in the middle of war. “I wish I could see you in action. It must feel like flying.” You expected him to say something, but several seconds go by and you're still in silence, broken only by the low chattering of the men working here. Looking over your shoulder, you spot Ivar still on the ground, looking up at you. “What?” You giggle, turning around.

“Get my chariot ready.” He commands, raising his voice. “Now.”

“You're kidding, right?” You ask, unable to hold back the smile.

Ivar doesn't answer, he just pulls himself to the chariot, taking his place. Everything is done quickly, and once the horse is attached to the chariot, the doors on the back of the barn are pushed open. Ivar is seated on the bench made for him, and you stand on the front, hands tightly holding on the edge.

“Are you ready?” Ivar inquires, and you give him a look over your shoulder, biting your lip.

You've never seen this look on his face. You have seen him smiling many times, but this is different. Ivar looks truly happy, comfortable, secure. Wild, even. And you absolutely love this look on him. “Make me fly.” You mutter, and the moment he moves his arms to whip the horse, you turn around.

Soon enough you find you picked the right word to describe it. Flying. Ivar keeps the horse's pace so fast that it takes your breath away. It's nothing like riding. It's something entirely new. The chariot rocks a little through the woods, but when it reaches a road, the speed only increases, and you're laughing like a little kid. It's just amazing to ride this into battle, and you can only imagine what his enemies feel when they see Ivar on this thing, flying to meet them. They must be terrified. Ivar's reputation is the worst, or the best, depending on the point of view, and men must tremble like leaves at the sight of him.

“You alright there?” He yells above the wind, and you glance at him.

“Never been better!” Assuring him, you focus on the road again, seeing how close you are to Kattegat. “Turn around! Or else we'll enter the town.”

“And what's the problem with that?”

Laughing again, you decide you don't care if he doesn't care. And into the town you go, making people jump out of the way. Nobody dares to say anything though, just making sure to warn those ahead to watch out. The space gets a little narrow, and Ivar starts to struggle a little until he gives up, knocking some stores down and getting some angry yells. You're not really thinking right now, looking down at the people as you pass by, too fast. You can hear his laughter too, filling your ears.

“Ivar!” A different voice reaches you, and as soon as you spot Ragnar riding on your left, Ivar pulls the horse, making it reduce its pace until you stop completely.

“Father. Hi.” He mutters, in that tone that means he did something bad but doesn't care one bit.

“Will you take this thing back? Look at all the mess you two made.” He complains, gesturing at the market place. You give it a quick look, noticing way too many broken things. “Move it around and take the chariot back,” Ragnar says before riding away.

With a dramatic eye roll, Ivar does what he's told, and this time, since he's riding slower, you have your back at the landscape, staring at him instead. “Weren't you seeing where you were going?”

“Of course not.” He snaps back, shrugging his shoulders. “I was too busy looking at you.”

Blushing, you look down, and a rock on the road makes the chariot shake, making you jerk forward, bumping on the support on which Ivar can rest his chest. “Ouch.”

“Come here.” He says, moving back a little. “Good thing you're wearing pants. Sit here.” Raising an eyebrow, you do as he says, bringing one leg over the structure and straddling it. The moment you sit down on it, you feel Ivar's chest pressing against your back. “Better?”

“A little.” You mumble, feeling as his arms surround you, so you place your hands on top of his, holding the halters. “That's nice.” You whisper, the cold air suddenly not bothering you anymore.

“It is.” Ivar let go of the halters, letting it to your control. “I never allowed anyone to do that. And I don't think I ever will.” He whispers in your ear, and you feel a shiver rolling down your spine.

“Really?”

“Really.” He repeats, hands on your hips. “Ever since I started raiding with my father and brothers, I never truly had anyone to come back to.” You feel yourself relax onto him, for a brief moment forgetting you're the one controlling the chariot. “So I need to know if that changed.”

This is important, so you pull the halters, making the horse stop. Once you're motionless, you move to the side and turn your head a little, just enough to look into his eyes. “What exactly are you asking, Ivar?”

He brings a hand to caress your cheek, cold fingertips running through your skin, painfully slow, leaving a trail of fire. “I'm asking if you will be waiting for my return.”

“I–”

“Prince Ivar.” Someone calls, and you're cut short.

“What?” He hisses, as you stand up and move out of the made chair.

“Your father asked us to take your chariot back. He needs to speak with you.”

“Why didn't he said it himself?” Despite being annoyed, Ivar steps out of the chariot, and you do the same. It doesn't go unnoticed that the men don't ride it. They simply pull the horse. It's like an unspoken rule, that doesn't need to be reassured. People just know.

Then, you're left alone in the woods, the sound of the chariot being taken away slowly fading. “Guess we should go now.” You say, but before you give the first step back to Kattegat, Ivar grabs your arm, forcing you to stop and turn to look at him.

“First answer me.” There's insecurity in his voice, fear even. You wonder if this side of Ivar will ever heal. Maybe it won't, but, as long as you're around, you'll do everything you can to make him see that he's not less of a man because of his disability. You know he's still scared that you'll pick Bjorn over him, the reason for the insane jealously going on between the two brothers, but the truth is you already made your choice. And you're not changing your mind.

“Of course I'll wait for you.” You say, not a hint of doubt on your voice. “I'll be on the decks, watching the boats arriving, searching for you among the people.” When Ivar smiles, you do the same, tiptoeing to place a kiss on his cheek. But when you feel his flesh, you're quick to notice you met his lips instead.

At the same time you freeze, you feel your entire body heating up. But then, you're fast to move, a hand coming to cup cheek as the other grabs the hard material of his vest, holding him close. You don't pull away, how could you? Not when you just realized you've been wanting to do this for so long. Smiling a little, you let him deepen the kiss, his free hand on your waist, pressing your body against his even more. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you feel completely inebriated by the warmth of his lips, his taste, everything.

But you still need to breathe, so you're forced to pull away, still standing close to him. You feel your cheeks burning, a smile on your lips that you just can't hold back. “That was something.” You mutter, clearing your throat.

“If I come back from this raid, tell me you'll be mine,” Ivar whispers, and you look up to meet those bright blue eyes once again. “I promise I won't ever take or love another woman.”

There's only one possible answer for this, but the truth is that somehow, you have been his since the beginning, you just didn't know. “You'll be mine, and I'll be yours.” Tiptoeing again, you place a quick kiss on his lips.

���And so it'll be.”

• • •

You both agreed on not letting the word out until after the raids. So, as the days and weeks pass by, you watch as people get ready, and you enjoy the many feasts Ragnar throws, but also the meals you share with the family alone. Hvitserk is the only one who knows about you and Ivar since he got you kissing by Ivar's bedroom door. But he won't tell anyone, or else, you swore to use him as a target to practice with the ax. But you trust him, you know he'll keep the secret as long as you want him to.

Bjorn is struggling. In the beginning, when he found out you were sleeping in Ivar's bedroom, he had this constant angry stare. Now, you're not sure what his plans are, but you know he hasn't given up yet. Ubbe told you that Bjorn still doesn't believe you made up your mind, because to him, it's insane that any woman would prefer Ivar over him. You don't care though. What he thinks doesn't matter. But you do catch him staring, and you're tired of trying not to let Ivar notice. It's almost always useless.

Tonight, it's a goodbye feast. They're sailing first thing tomorrow, many to their deaths, so today, everyone celebrates. You're dressed in a brand new dress, with the necklace Ivar gave you, as well as rings and earrings that we're also gifts from him. You're happy tonight, despite the anxiety building up in your chest.

“So. Do you want anything from your homeland?” Ivar asks, his mouth close to your ear to make himself heard above all the noise.

“I want you.” You answer, stealing a chicken wing from his plate and taking a bite. Ivar looks at you with an annoyed stare, eyes rolling at your audacity.

“You already have me.” He simply answers.

“Are you guys serious?” Hvitserk complains, dropping to the bench beside you. “If I ever fall in love and start acting like this, I give you both permission to punch me in the face.”

“You know I'll never forget this, right?.” You tell him, an arm around his shoulders. “I have a good memory, my friend.”

“You'll regret saying that,” Ivar warns him, and you giggle.

The night was long, but it ended too soon. You were awakened before the sun, so you could help Ivar with the last preparations. You did you're best not to look worried, but right now, walking next to him to the boat, you have to clench your hands into fists so nobody will see them shaking.

“That's it.” He says, turning to look at you. “Don't worry too much. I'll come back.”

“I know, Ivar the Boneless.” Some people pass by, so you look down at your feet. “Just be careful, alright?”

“I will.”

“Alright.” You know you've been keeping this a secret until he's back, but right now, it doesn't matter. Standing on your toes, you kiss him, slow and passionately, not minding the many eyes on both of you. It just doesn't matter. Pulling away, you smile, hoping this won't be the last kiss.

“So much for keeping a secret.” He says, smirking.

“Shut up.” You mutter, resting your head on his chest. “Just remember I'll be waiting.”

“I will,” Ivar says in a low voice, and with one more kiss, you let him get in the boat, making your way back to the decks, standing next to Aslaug.

The Queen has a look on her face, and you know she saw the kiss.

“Won't you say anything?” You mutter, feeling your cheeks burning.

“No.” She smiles, glancing at you. “I just think it'll be a long summer. For both of you.”

And, of course, Queen Aslaug was right.

×

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @midnightmystic @readsalot73 @xvxcarolinexvx @momowhoo @fangfoxy @msrawog @walkingonshunshine @alytavzla @anotherfan07 @heavenly1927 @msrawog @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

[laytonsartblog]

The Best of Worst Days

Economic Crisis AU

Ch. 1, Ch. 2

Warning: this content has violence, poverty, guns, starvation, hypothermia, dysfunctional family themes, and dystopian themes. Read when comfortable and in a safe spot. Care for yourself.

--

Patton has a schedule he dedicates his life to.

First, to get up at five.

Then take a shower, standing in a bucket.

Why a bucket? To catch the dirty water.

After his shower, Patton will put that murky liquid into a filter to drain out all the gunk and make him and his son breakfast while he's waiting. Once he's finished with all of that, he takes the filtered water and pours it into empty water bottles and then throws them into his tiny icebox.

Proceeding is obviously to wake up his adorable little four-year-old Virgil and eat with him until it's time to go at six-thirty, and walk Virgil to his pre-k daycare with the rest of breakfast and the fresh water bottle as lunch.

From that point on it's just to get to his work at the construction site by seven and work until two pm, and pick Virgil up to bring home.

They play and eat and maybe visit the park for two hours, then Patton has to get to his other job down the block at a small crafts store by five, which is where he'll be until midnight, then walk all the way back home and fall flat on his face to sleep on the floor.

Simple, right?

Yes, well, there's this thing called sleep depriviation and insomnia that gets in the way.

When Patton wakes up as he does every day, his tired eyes make their way to the clock before bulging out of his head. It's six am.

He scrambled to get Virgil up and about. "Virgil!" Patton whispered as he gently shook his son's shoulders. "Virgil, Papa's running late for work, you need to make your own sandwich while I get ready, okay?"

Virgil merely whined and curled in closer to his thin blanket.

"Pleeeeeease?" Patton pleaded. "I know it's a bit sudden and I usually let you sleep in more, but Papa can't do everything at once, okay?"

Virgil finally sat up and groaned, wiping his eyes. "S'okay, Papa. I'll help."

Patton smiled softly as Virgil clumsily went about to his little cubby to grab a clean shirt and shorts to change into, before remembering the time and running off to change too.

Patton came out of the bathroom with his expendable construction t shirt and jeans and stared at the time; six-thirty.

"Come on, Virgil," Patton urged gently as he picked his boy up. "We're gonna need to skip breakfast today, but I'll leave you some money to get something at the cafeteria, okay?"

Virgil nodded sleepily against Patton's chest. "Okay, Papa..."

Patton sighed contentedly as he continued to hold Virgil on the rest of the walk to the daycare before placing him gently down in front of the door. He fished in his pockets for change.

"Don't worry, honey, I'll have something here somewhere..." Patton trailed off as he continued to search through his pockets for maybe even a dime, but, no, there was nothing. Patton gave up his search with a sigh. "Well, kiddo, I- I think you'll need to ask for some of your friend's extra snacks, or maybe one of the teachers to get you something because Papa doesn't- Papa doesn't have the money."

Virgil looked like his rubber duck had just been melted and Patton almost teared up at the sight. He hated having to starve his own son because he couldn't get the money.

Virgil ran up and hugged Patton's skinny legs. "Is okay, Papa, 'm okay, Papa go job," he mumbled into the cloth of Patton's jeans. "I go play now." He ran off like a wolf into the night into the daycare, rushing to play with the fun trains. A complete switch.

Patton would have broke down then if it weren't for the fact he was on the clock.

He ran to the site he was supposed to be working on, just two or three miles away. When he got there, however, his manager stood with a tapping shoe and folded arms.

"Look who finally showed up!" she snarked, red luxerious lipstick painted bright to announciate every twisted syllable.

Patton's shoulders went sky high to hide his paler-than-average face. "I-I am so sorry, ma'am," he apologized. "I didn't mean to- my son, I had to drop him off to daycare, and he was being fussy, so-"

Patton didn't like to lie, but it was the only way for him to keep the job. If she found out it was because he woke up late? A big fat 'FIRED' notice would appear in his p.o. box.

The woman sighed. Her foot stopped tapping, but her arms stayed crossed. "Listen..." she started. "You seem to work hard and you've got a kid to take care of. I get it. Times like these in this stupid country can be tough."

Patton felt some hope glimmer in his chest. Perhaps just a warning?

"But that doesn't exclude the fact you've been late four times this month, fainted twice from exhaustion, and spread the cough to my workers last winter."

Patton's heart sank back to where it was before.

"That's why... I need to let you go. It's hard work and I cannot have tardiness and exhaustion running my construction equipment."

And that's when Patton's heart went all the way down to Hell.

"You're... I'm... I'm fired?" Patton gasped out, almost as if he couldn't believe it; or rather, didn't want to.

His manager nodded. "I'm so sorry, Patton, you seem like a fine worker. You're just not cut out for working early hours on tough plaster with a kid to take care of and a whole load of sleep problems."

Patton's hands felt numb but slimy. He was sweating but he couldn't even tell if it was hot. All he felt was cold; cold dread, cold guilt, cold everything.

"I-I'm sorry, maybe I could- maybe you could move me down to textile ordering management?" Patton tried not to let that determined little speck of hope reach too high in his voice; it still strained of heartbreak either way.

Her bright red lips frowned and her mascara-covered eyes closed. "I'm sorry, Patton, but those spots are all full. If you wanted to really work there, you could be the mission boy, but that's significantly lesser pay, and may conflict with the schedule you're on."

Patton sighed, his hope and heart finally settling in a dark chasm in his chest. "Thank you for at least concerning it, ma'am, I'll- I'll be on my way, now."

With a racking breath and wobbly knees, Patton turned away and walked back home. Once through the door, he sat on the small mattress Virgil used and began to sob.

"I can't feed my child, I lost my job, and bills are coming up! What the hell am I to do?" Patton yelled as he bawled into his hands.

Every part of him screamed and ached. He needed sleep, he needed rest, he needed something to eat, he needed his child to hold dear, he just needed; but he can never have what he wants, especially like the sad sack of debt and depression he was.

Patton couldn't exactly tell how long he had cried for, but the next time he looked up at the clock, it was eight am. He figured that the library was open, so he might as well head over there for a free read to calm down.

That, and free wifi and computer access.

Patton tried to make himself not look like the outside rendition of how he was feeling on the inside as he walked along the craggy sidewalks to the nearby city library. His attempts to cover up the way his hair sagged and his eyes pulsed didn't exactly prove fruitful as people walked by in sympathy or disgust. Their reactions only made Patton's heart clench more.

After he finished his three mile walk, he practically ghosted through the library doors; he looked as much, anyway, with his pale face and sunken eyes.

The librarian from across the room lowered his sunglasses, intrigued and a little suspicious.

The depression hit almost everyone, yes, but that didn't mean that hobos possibly addicted to meth were a person Remy was begging to listen to on a Monday morning in a damn library. Remy was not awake enough to tell the raggedy middle aged patron this wasn't the back alley to sneak some crack in before making his way back on the streets to ask for a job, so Remy just adjusted his sunglasses and resumed looking up sugar daddies on his phone.

Patton ignored the stares from the young librarian and instead went to the computer, taking out his library card and typing out the number and sending it in. After waiting for what seemed like hours, the internet finally decided to load the computer up and allow Patton to search for more loan applications and job openings.

However, he came up empty handed.

The jobs either weren't paying enough, required a higher degree than a high school diploma, or were simply too far away. The loans? They would cause more debt; Patton was better off without more false promises.

There was a website Patton was interested in, though, that he found while scrolling through the Google search "friend finding": GetAlong.

GetAlong, apparently, was a free penpal website people could use do the same as texting without having to pay for it. Except, there's a twist; the people you meet are strangers. They could be from across the country, across the planet, your next-door neighbor, anyone who signs up with the site is eligible for you to meet. You could message eachother, send pictures, videos, links, live feeds, and sticker-like emoji; all within the website.

The only consolation is for it to be anonymous. The only information you can put is your first name, your age, your gender, and maybe some things you're interested in. The rest is to fill in for yourself after you meet them.

The reason Patton was so interested is because he needed someone to talk to. Sure, he had Virgil to play with on bad days, and he had his coworker Roman from the crafts store he still worked at, but other than that? No family, no friends, and no help.

Perhaps this website could at least bring him some happiness.

So Patton, with a lot more time on his hands and feeling a lot more distraught than normal, signed up.

Patton Gentile, 32, trans-male. I like knitting, snuggling up in the winter, and taking care of my son. Hope to give you a happy hello soon!

Patton stared back at the words on the screwn with his fingers hovering over the keyboard, motionless.

Was this really all I needed to say? he thought. Did I need to say more, or less?

He decided to get it over with and hit send, leaving his mark on the world.

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

Taglist:

@amazable01 @vara-albion

[thelocalshooter]

The Local Shooter Vs. Scrappy Flako

(LS) Goodmorning and thank you for being apart of this great come up, for the people who don’t know by now we got Scrappy Flako today, can you go ahead and tell us a bit about yourself? What do you do? Where are you from?

(SF) Hi, thank you for putting me on, I’m Ivan Munoz, but you can call me Scrappy Flako. I do a podcast here in Phoenix where I interview local creatives that do music, photography, videos, etc. Any art of form is welcome on my podcast where we can discuss and learn from each other. I also model and I’m just an overall creative dude that likes to try something new. I was born in Phoenix, but after kindergarten I moved to Yuma then came back to Phoenix after freshman year of high school. So Phoenix and Yuma are a part of me.

(LS) How do you juggle being a producer, a rapper and also a talk show host all in one? Like do you decide when you wake up which one you’re gonna focus on more that day or how do you choose?

(SF) I don’t really consider myself a rapper and/or producer only because I know people take those careers way more seriously than me and are better than me too. I’d say my beats are still amateurish at best, and I rap just have fun on beat. Which is why I’m making Food City Gang. A fun project that people can enjoy and laugh at the dumb bars I spit out. I definitely prioritize the podcast first because it’s the reason why people follow me and it makes me happy that everyone is interested in this passion project that’s becoming something more than what it is. So I give it the attention and care it deserves because the podcast has brought me a lot of beautiful people in my life.

(LS) What came first for you music or YouTube?

(SF) I think Youtube came first. When I was in middle school I’d always watch Smosh, FreddieWong, or even flash animations that were funny as hell. My first videos from middle school are still on my channel, alongside the podcast videos, and leave it as a memory so people can see I’m still that kid with dreams.

(LS) You’re very open with your musical side, you’ve dropped a couple bangers in my opinion, and also you recently played your beat tape which was fire on your live stream! When did you start getting into that side of the creative lane?

(SF) I’ve always been into music. I picked up guitar when I was in middle school as well and I learn a lot of metal songs, video game songs, and anime theme songs too. Time went on and I just explored other genres of music, then started falling in love with rap beats. Especially lofi and boom bap because I just love the drums and jazz chord progressions. The community here in AZ is really supportive, and I’ve always been really shy about my creative side but now I’m being more open about my stuff, even towards people I meet in public. I would just keep to friends and that’s it.

(LS) As far as the “Scrappy Flako Talk Show” you have been growing very rapidly and have had some remarkable talent on there like Saiah, SirenSings, Pariah Pete & More! How and where did you get the idea to start a podcast in your moms house?

(SF) So I actually pitched the idea to Pariah Pete to interview him. Pete and I used to work together at Chipotle and he would show me his music and I would fuck with it. Later on, he’d start doing shows and I would always go to them because it’s cool seeing a friend doing his passion and seeing him get the love he deserves, but even then I want people to know who Pete is and the other talented creative minds here in AZ. I’ve always had studio equipment in my room but I wasn’t doing anything with it. So when I saw podcasts like Joe Rogan or H3H3, I just said to myself “let’s use the equipment for podcasting and just have fun with it.” There was nothing to lose if I tried, but I did want it to be a good podcast that is presentable and somewhat professional. I made it into an “actual” podcast as much as I can, so when someone sees it they think “Oh hey this looks pretty legit. I’m interested.”

(LS) You’re currently in the midst of getting an office space? How is that for you? Does this mean your talk show is being taken to the next level or what’s the idea behind the office space?

(SF) The office is gonna bring so much to the table for me. I'm going to be able to do much in that office because of the space and also that it’s not in my mom’s house anymore. So anything goes in that office. The current podcast room was pretty small and I also want to interview bands or groups of people so that office is perfect for it. Of course, this is gonna take the podcast to a new level, but I’ll have a lot more creative freedom for myself and I’ll be doing other kinds of shows without having to worry about anything. The office is gonna be a creative space that’s gonna be like The Cave from Kenny Beats, but there’s gonna be more to it. Also, it’d give my mom peace of mind since strangers aren’t going to be in her house anymore.

(LS) What’s the next move for you Scrappy? More music? More streams? Another beat tape?

(SF) I’m gonna slow down and put the podcast on hiatus so I can get it ready for the office. I also need to do highlight clips for the podcast. Food City Gang Mixtape is in the works and it's gonna be me, my homie Angel Cabrera, and my other friend Ghost Diego who’s actually gonna be the beat producer for the project. As well as some features here and there. We’re gonna try to get it done by summer and we’re also going to make music videos for that project as well. We want to go all out on this project, but have fun with it and let everyone else enjoy it too. Maybe we can host a show at Trunk Space because I would love to see people moshing to BODIES. Other than that, I’m getting back into modeling so I gotta stay in shape and I’ll just have fun being creative.

(LS) Being a person who interviews many talents from the valley, what’s your take on the music scene in Arizona and what do you think it’s missing?

(SF) I think the AZ scene is fine the way it is. There’s a lot of love and support here and I don’t really see any hate or toxicity in the community. I think the scene just needs to keep growing, keep improving on their craft, and keep pushing as it is because we shouldn’t wait for labels, radio shows, or hand me downs when we are capable of forging our own career. It’s good that we’re making a name for ourselves and doing the things that make us happy. I fuck with some local talent more than the mainstream shit. I went to see Pete open for Doja Cat, not see Doja perform after Pete, you know? Good show though. I think what the scene needs is to still help each other out. I still feel like it’s a little bit of “every man for himself” mentality going on because people don’t want their ideas stolen, which is okay, but creative minds should try and lift each other up more. Feed off each other's energy and learn from it. What I do see a lot is artist’s personal friends and family don’t really care about their career, until they start making waves, but making waves can be hard when everyone is doing what you’re doing. So I try my best to show every artist the credit they deserve by at least checking out their music and maybe even shouting them out. Love like that can go a long way

(LS) What’s your main focus at the end of the day creative wise? Do you plan on taking music as serious as people think you want to or is simply a stress reliever? Is the talk show and YouTube your main passion?

(SF) The main focus is still the podcast and pushing it as far as I can. I’m gonna do different shows to showcase artists once I get that office. I appreciate the love that I get from the podcast and the amount of people who want to get on, but there’s gonna be other stuff that's gonna happen on the channel. This year for music, I’m gonna release Food City Gang and maybe I’ll make “serious” music after that project is done, but I probably won’t do shows like I have planned for Food City Gang.

(LS) Thank you again for being apart of this great come up! Is there anything you’d like to mention to the readers out here who want to know more about you? Or any links you wanna mention where they can check out your talk show or some of your beats?

(SF) Thank you again for putting me on here. This was fun to do actually. You guys can find me anywhere on social media or soundcloud. Just look for Scrappy Flako and you’ll see my icon with the bandanna and spiky hair. Scrappy Flako Talk Show is available everywhere like Spotify, Apple Podcast, etc. Not just Youtube, but if you want to see the artist face and mine then subscribe to SuperPug Productions. www.youtube.com/user/superpug64

Also you can support the podcast by subcribing for at least $1 a month on https://anchor.fm/scrappy-flako

And check out my merch at https://teespring.com/stores/scrappy-flako-shop

Feel free to hit me up with anything. You guys have yourself a damn good one.

The Local Shooter Vs. Scrappy Flako

[botanyshitposts]

Ok so I've got a pine sapling but we're going on holidays for a month and I won't be able to take care of it. My parents say that I should just flood its pot and call it a day, but I'm not really sure... sorry if this is not the right blog to ask.

hmmm… drawing on my knowledge as a former greenhouse worker, i can tell you a few things:

1. in commercial and retail greenhouses, flooding the pot is a form of watering. like you fill it up to the rim of the pot and move to the next plant. this is a quick way to be sure that the plant will be okay for the rest of the day (!!!!) without multiple fillings, but…it wouldn’t do much for a month. 

2. if your plant is outdoors, great! if it’s on a porch or something and in a pot, I would bungee/tie the trunk to the porch to make sure it stays upright (juvenile saplings in pots- I’m talking, like, trees that are over two feet tall but not a giant adult yet- often are at risk for falling over outside). make sure that there are drain holes in the bottom of the pot and???? i guess leave it be??? like its not completely ideal, but that way it’ll get some water when it rains, which is better than drying out inside. 

3. if you plant is a baby-baby, by which I mean three feet or so or under, do not put it outside!! it might blow over and blow away. 

as for automatic watering devices, you have a few options. obviously, the cheapest one is bringing it over to a friends house and just asking them if they can take care of it while you’re gone. but if you’re looking for some heavy duty equipment, you have a few options on amazon. i’m gonna go all the way up the crazy expensive ones because strange botany equipment is my jam

starting at cheapest and going upwards:

these bulb things. you can get them plain or go super fancy and get colorful ones. i remember seeing these constantly on commercials as a small child, and quite honestly, i think these will last your plant, like, 3 days at the most if its small. great if you’re going about your daily business and just dont want to water every day, but i wouldn’t trust it for longer. 

okay, so with these, you screw in a used water bottle of your sizing choice and let it drip into your pot. i would estimate, like the description says, about two weeks for one of these if you have a big container on there. so meh. 

this one is honestly my best recommendation. with these, you put the stake in the pot and the end of the tube thing into a giant container of water, forming a syphon, and just let it drip until the container runs out of water. this particular model is for larger plants tropical plants, as it has a higher flow rate (i might go for one of these for my nepenthes, as im leaving it home for college) but blumat makes smaller ones with a lower flow rate if you aren’t looking to have the soil totally soaked at all times. simple and cool, just find a big ass thing of water to connect it to and your good. 

okay, now we’re gonna go into the fancy ones. with these, i really would only recommend it if you’re a collector (nepenthes and other carnivorous plants of varying specific needs) or a retailer (at all of the greenhouses i’ve worked at, they’ve had a drip system for at least one section of the store. its just. just Too Many Plants, you know?)

oh yeah. now we’re getting into some next level computerized shit. this bad boy works a lot like the previous one, but partitions the water into three plants at a time at a specific rate set by you. 

in my opinion, this one is kind of straddling the line between hobbyist and retailer. you hook this up directly to a hose and let the timer do the work. for an additional $8, you can also have the 3 year protection plan. 

its just like my mama used to say, “its not a real automatic watering system if it doesn’t come with a water pump and 32 feet of vinyl tubing”. you can also get a four year protection plan for an additional $12. 

this shiny metal box is your bitch. 6.6 gallons. advanced timer that can partition water up to 40 days. 20 drippers. 33 feet of pvc hose. dont just water your pine sapling- water your pine sapling from another room while watering 19 other plants simultaneously at different amounts. it comes with a 2 year warranty, and if you want to go all the way you can buy an additional 4 year protection plan for only $16 more. 

i’m gonna be completely honest with you here, i have no idea how this shiny metal amazon box works, just that it was aggressively advertised at the top of my screen the entire time i was browsing for this ask. apparently, this is a fancy timer for an existing sprinkler/drip system. it connects with wifi and your phone and builds your own watering plan that you can modify at any time. it checks the local weather and turns off if it rains. you can see a literal calendar and tell it which days to water and which days not to, how much, and when, which is impressive, except i literally cannot understand how this would connect to a sprinkler system. i assume that there’s a hole in the top that we don’t see and a hole in the bottom we don’t see and it works like any other timer would, but it looks way too fancy for that and i would not in a million years trust this thing to not short circuit in the mere presence of water. seeing that it has four stars, it must work to some extent, and of course there’s a 4 year protection plan for nearly $20. 

are no commercial watering systems good enough for your plant collection? you can do what a surprising amount of rare plant growers do and literally build your own. like, they build a strawberry pi circuitboard and program it themselves for their specific plants in question. 

here’s one of my favorite carnivorous plant guys showing one of his highland greenhouse foggers, which isn’t technically a watering system so much as a humidity system, but if you watch 45 seconds of this video you’ll see the impressive amount of care and specificity put into the habitats of these plants by professional growers when they do their own builds. this dude also has a kickass set of greenhouses, and his channel is basically him showing off his equipment and plants. he has a kid and a wife, too. i think he might do this for a living but im not sure???