#Outside Plumbing Repair

[plumbertucson]

Tucson Waterline Repair & Replacement

[maxellminidisc]

Whoever buys the house next door is genuinely going to get scammed and me and my neighbors keep trying to warn perspective buyers and the real estate lady hates our guts aoskdkkflsldll

[awesomedrainva]

To ensure its long-term durability, your home's plumbing fittings must be professionally installed. You run the risk of damaging your house, the fixture, or an incorrect installation if you attempt to conduct the work yourself. To get the job done efficiently and accurately, you need a plumber for fixture installation and repair operations.

Toilets, showers, water heaters, garbage disposals, and other fixtures are examples of plumbing fixtures. Try as you might, doing these installations yourself can go horribly wrong.

[the-re-farmer]

A few updates, and I'm not sure about this kitten

It was a nice, crisp and cool morning as I was doing my rounds. I made sure to get the kibble for the outside cats to soak in hot water before I headed out, so they could have a nice warm breakfast. There is one kitten that I noticed last night; a friendly little tabby. It had been curled up in the cat bed at the bottom of the shelf in the window. While topping up their kibble at the end of the…

[londondungeon2]

concept with jade leech

there is no dire-beast inside the mirror chamber, and there are no ghosts inhabiting ramshackle. it is simply: you, alone in a rundown building, after the headmaster leaves.

you have been pinching yourself through the day. little crescent marks litter your wrist.

for the past six or so hours, you have been trying really hard to wake up from this dream. nothing is working. desolate, you take to wandering the house.

you know your imagination is strong but an entire college, idiosyncratic characters, and an entire furnished building is a bit complex. still, you card through the squabble, hoping to unearth some mistake in physics that will tell you that this is a dream. that search ends abruptly when you find a loose floorboard and the fragile wood underneath you gives out like a snapped cracker.

you land hard.

ten feet down in the basement, lying on your back.

blinking away dust, your eyes land upon the piece of wood speared cleanly through your abdomen.

the pain tells you this is too much to be a dream.

it is a full two hours you lie there immobile. you try rolling on your side, hoping to at least stand up, but each motion is anguish in an ineffable amount. you wrap your hands around the red wood and try to pull; it leads to your eyeballs rolling so far back you see new colors. skin shining with generous sweat and dipping in and out of consciousness, you lie there and bid limited time until someone from this new world comes to find you. the headmaster will eventually come back, right?

you think about a multitude of things.

you think about how if your corpse withers here, the puss running out your orifices will look like cream cheese.

you think about how the glittering wands those students held might work, is it like harry potter or a unique universe.

you think about how you still had to go to work tomorrow in your own original universe, attend classes, hope plans with friends don’t fall through so you laugh carefree without lungfuls of blood.

your last slip from consciousness to eternal unconsciousness, you think about home. the bed you slept in, the books read and films watched, the snack wrappers on the sheets, what a comforting waste.

you drift off, expecting to be jolted awake again by your own feverish mind, and die, bleeding out on ramshackle’s basement floor.

it takes azul awhile to gain ramshackle’s dorm.

the one new student he saw during the opening ceremony apparently stayed there one night and fled the next morning. as the headmaster’s report goes, crowley found no one living there when he went to check the following day. however, the usage of ramshackle by that magicless student opened up a gate of opportunity and azul did not let it go to waste.

the negotiations took awhile and the proper refurbishment will have to be done. but just before winter exams, azul has managed to secure himself a second location for mostro lounge.

first, damages have to be assessed.

the building is disgusting, rundown, and simply inhabitable. busy with the 250 students he has under contract, azul assigns jade to spend a november afternoon there and make note of what they need to start repairing first.

azul really hopes the plumbing is salvageable. the cost would be through the roof if otherwise.

so jade, hand over his heart, promises to survey ramshackle the next day and outline a list of high priority repairs to stuff they can skimp upon in the budget.

jade’s excited. the mountains he treks are northwest and ramshackle is northeast; this will provide him a new opportunity to see what kind of mushroom may lie on that side of the island. …oh, and he supposes he will also assist azul in his endeavor as well.

the next day, he spends half of the allotted time foraging outside of ramshackle before he actually walks into the building. i should make this quick and efficient. i only have thirty minutes left. notepad in hand, he starts to investigate the wreckage.

uninhabited and ugly. those are the two words that rise to jade’s mind first. truly, it is a lovely space and it would be a disgrace to see it painted in shades of lilac and oceanic decor. but, it will be entertaining nonetheless to see azul’s business expand.

yet, as he’s walking down the halls, jade cannot help but think he is hearing a second pair of footsteps just behind him.

yes, ramshackle is ugly but it does not seem to be as uninhabited as he thought. how intriguing.

so, sadistic grin blooming, jade decides to play a game. he will ignore this secondary person and continue on, waiting anxiously to see what will happen. he marks down his observations, all while feeling a pair of eyes upon his neck. lighting on the first floor needs fixing. the water runs orange in the upstairs sink. nothing entirely formidable has happen yet, but he hopes it will.

jade cannot wait to see if this ghost can turn his skin inside out, or perhaps drop a floorboard on top of his head, the possibilities are endless. it all has jade’s toes squirming in his dress shoes in anticipation.

however, his thirty minutes are up before he can descend the basement stairs and nothing has happened yet.

which is disappointing.

he’ll be back again tomorrow so there is always a chance for something then.

however, he had hoped for something to happen now.

just as jade is walking out the door, list and bag of mushrooms in hand, something ice cold tickles the hairs on his neck. frigid like home. he barely gets a chance to dwell on it before five frozen fingers wrap themselves around his throat and shove him down the porch steps.

the door to ramshackle slams shut.

sprawled on the ground, jade reaches his hand up to the idents on the column of skin, the previous touch thawing out.

he cannot help the deep blush that comes up to his face.

with a deep breath, his own gloves fingers still hovering over the lost embrace, jade stands up and pats himself down. he looks upon the closed door with a hunger in his eyes.

yes, tomorrow he will be back.

and he hopes this ghost will act up again because they have so much more allure to jade than a second mostro lounge.

[anderstrevelyan]

I’m interested in your theory of what Gortash was a counsellor of? Or what department of high ranking official of the city he was working for?

Oooh thank you for the opportunity to talk about Baldurian politics 🙏 (somehow this developed footnotes) (and got really long, whoops)

I don't think I'm settled on who initially hired him—it could be one of the five officers of the city* who typically hire bureaucrats, or a duke (since it seems Florrick works primarily with Ravengard and the Fist).

I think most likely would be Earl Namorran (the Harbormaster circa 1482) or Thalamra Vanthampur** (either while she was Master of Drains and Underways or after becoming a duke), though I do picture some leeway in who the counsellors advise once they're in place, more about where their advice is needed than necessarily being tied to a particular area.

(I was trying to source back where I got that impression, and I think it's Wyll describing Gortash as trying to be an advisor to "the peers" in general:)

(He's thinking back to 1485 and before, when he still lived in the Gate—the "bit player" part became less true the closer you get to 1492, I imagine, especially with the narrator line that attributes the title counsellor to Gortash describing him as having considerable influence on industry and politics)

Some areas I could see Gortash being a fit to advise on would be a) weaponry (but we know the Watch marshal is skeptical of his ideas in 1492, and Ulder Ravengard certainly doesn't like his advice, so I can't picture him spending much time advising the Watch or the Fist despite any overtures), b) the flow of goods in and out of the city, and c) technology.

(Technology is why I'm imagining Vanthampur as a possible entrypoint: the drains and underways porfolio is prestigious because it's so technically demanding in a way that's beyond most patriars.)

And speaking of technology, personally I see him working a lot with the Gondians and the ways they interface with the city!

After Duke Torlin Silvershield's death, the high artificer of Gond becomes Andar Beech, who oversaw the temple's day-to-day under Silvershield and was critical of his involvement in politics—so I think that leaves an opening for someone outside of Gond's church to step in and do some of that liaising. Because the city really, really cares about the Gondians—they maintain those giant cranes that move all the goods at the docks and keep trade flowing, relevant to Namorran's work, and they repair plumbing in patriars' homes, relevant to Vanthampur's—and I could see him advising parliament and the dukes on how they might best get more use out of the Gondians and their inventions. (While at the same time using them as jumping-off points for his own.)

We know the Gondians likely had a lot of secret projects going on (I don't have a link, but the rumour's from Descent into Avernus!), and Gortash eventually takes their Foundry through fraud and blackmail, so I can picture him using his role as counsellor to twist his way in to learn more for leverage and to start to legitimize a partnership between him and the Gondians in the public's eye: setting himself up to take direct, forceful control like we see him having in 1492.

-----

*those five officer positions being: Harbormaster, High Constable and Master of Walls, Master of Drains and Underways, Master of Cobbles, and the Purse Master, per Murder in Baldur's Gate

**Follower-of-Zariel and owner-of-a-bathhouse-that-by-1492-has-a-bane-bhaal-and-mrykul-temple-under-it Thalamra Vanthampur!

[aiartwerk]

Carpenter A confident female carpenter working on wood in a workshop. With her curly hair tied back, safety glasses, and tools in hand, she is fully focused on her craft. Wood shavings and sparks surround her as she smoothly planes a piece of wood. Her robust physique adds to the image’s emphasis on empowerment and craftsmanship.

Construction Worker This image portrays a construction worker standing proudly on a construction site, donning a hard hat and tool belt. Her dusty outfit and powerful stance amidst cranes and scaffolding show her strength and dedication to the job, surrounded by a backdrop of a large industrial site under construction.

Crane Operator A woman sits inside a crane cabin, wearing a hard hat and work gloves, operating heavy machinery with intense focus. The interior of the cabin is filled with dials and switches, capturing the mechanical aspect of her job. The background is a vast construction site, highlighting the scale of her work.

Race Car Driver A striking woman in a yellow racing suit stands confidently in front of a Formula 1 race car. Her stance is powerful, with arms akimbo, as she commands attention amidst the high-energy backdrop of a race track. Her sleek outfit and the car’s detailed design contribute to the fast-paced energy of the scene.

Electrician This image showcases an African-American woman working as an electrician, kneeling down amidst a tangle of wires and cables. She holds a tool in her hand while sparks fly around her. Her expression is calm and composed as she works with precision in a high-stress environment.

Firefighter A fierce female firefighter stands in front of a blazing fire, exuding strength and bravery. Her orange firefighter suit is charred, and her face is determined as she readies herself for action. The flames in the background highlight the danger and intensity of her profession.

Pilot A stylish and commanding woman stands in front of a large airplane, dressed in a crisp pilot’s uniform. Her tailored black jacket and cap emphasize her authority and professionalism. The jet behind her and the blue skies reflect her role as a leader in aviation.

Lumberjill A woman in plaid and work jeans is in the midst of chopping logs in a forest clearing. Her strong arms grip an ax as she focuses on the task at hand. The sunlight filtering through the trees adds warmth to the image, emphasizing her connection to the land and hard work.

Mechanic In a garage setting, a female mechanic works on a car, her hands covered in grease. Her denim overalls cling to her toned frame as she holds a tool, surrounded by equipment and automotive parts. Her intense expression shows focus, dedication, and passion for her trade.

Soldier A soldier stands at attention amidst a battlefield, her body armored and weapon at her side. Her camo fatigues blend into the war-torn environment, while her fierce, unyielding gaze suggests experience and readiness for the challenges ahead.

Plumber A woman kneels beside a kitchen sink, tools in hand, as she works on the plumbing. Her determined expression and sturdy overalls emphasize her hands-on approach to fixing things. The homey kitchen setting contrasts with her industrial tools, blending domestic and technical elements.

Power Line Worker High above the ground, a woman works on power lines, equipped with a tool belt and safety gear. She balances on a wooden beam, her face focused as she repairs wiring. The towering power poles and bright sky in the background add scale and drama to the scene.

Spaceship Pilot Inside a futuristic spaceship, a young woman pilots the craft, surrounded by high-tech controls. Her white and black spacesuit glows in the colorful lights of the console, and the cosmos stretches out beyond the window. The vastness of space outside complements her focused expression as she navigates.

Submariner In the depths of the ocean, a woman operates the controls of a high-tech submarine. The control room is dimly lit with screens glowing, showing the sea life outside. Sharks swim past the large windows, creating a mysterious and adventurous atmosphere as she guides the vessel.

Welder A woman stands confidently in front of a welding torch, sparks flying around her. Her protective gloves and helmet highlight the dangers of her job, but her composed expression suggests mastery of her craft. The industrial setting around her adds a sense of strength and power to the scene.

Each image is crafted with ultra-realistic detail, featuring vivid 3D rendering and high-resolution 4K quality. The colors are bold and striking, with detailed lighting that brings out the textures in their environments, outfits, and the characters themselves. Each woman is depicted with strength and beauty, emphasizing her role in her respective profession while challenging traditional gender stereotypes.

These characters not only represent women of power but also pay homage to diversity by showcasing African American women in impactful, aspirational roles.

[blues824]

Can i request dorm leaders with a Mario reader (the Mario odyssey version) and how they would react to their hat and their ship

it goes like this : the reader has been a janitor for a long time because their ship crashed in twisted wonderland and they can't leave until their ship is repaired . When riddle's overblot happened they helped defeat him by throwing their hat on riddle's head and controlling him to help him calm down. After that, they obtained power moons from the ink monster, then realized they can get power moons from defeating bosses and so on...

please and thank you

Gender-neutral reader, not Yuu, who lives at Ramshackle and is in their 2nd year. More platonic than romantic, but is very vague. I’m an English-server player, so Chapter 7 events have not happened yet.

Riddle Rosehearts

You were the student who got in on a free scholarship because you volunteered to be the school’s plumber. It was technically a well-paying job, as you got free housing, free food from the cafeteria because of a special pass from Headmage Crowley. You did, after all, have superhuman abilities of your own. While they don’t count as ‘magic’, they do put you at an advantage of sorts.

Riddle had noticed you around NRC, and he’s even had to call you when the pipes under the sink were leaking. You were very friendly, and you came with a rather peculiar red hat upon your head. But, you did your job quite well. The pipes were fixed… after you literally went into the pipes to the sound of an 8-Bit arcade game.

When he overblotted, your red hat came in handy. You threw it at him, and it grew eyes of its own. Once it knocked the crown off his head and replaced it with itself, Riddle found himself in the backseat of his own mind. You were there, directing the ‘ship’ as well as helping him to calm down. You must have had a younger sibling or something with the way that you were so encouraging and positive, despite him almost killing you.

Eventually, you got ejected out of his mind and you were dizzy once you got outside. You sat down, your legs spread out on the grass, your head spinning and with stars and swirls and tweeting birds circling around you. Riddle was in a similar state, so you were both about to be taken to the infirmary. However, something dropped from the heavens above. It was a moon. You, stumbling about, got up and walked over, and picked it up. Your vision focused for a few seconds to see that it was a Power Moon, before you passed out.

The Housewarden of Heartslabyul woke up a few hours later, only to find that he was alone. From what he remembered, you were brought here as well. He got up from his bed and started asking around, only to find out that you were at the old Ramshackle dorm. He knew that was where you lived, but how did you get all the way over there in your condition? When he got there, you were working on a rather large and weird-looking steam-powered ship. You attached a strange moon-shaped object, and the ship rattled with life, spooking the 17-year-old.

A jolly laugh emitted from you, but you turned around to see Riddle behind you. You were surprised that he was there, but you asked if he was alright. This was overwhelming for him, so you decided to just roll with it. If Luigi could deal with this, so could Riddle. You explained that the ship in front of the two of you was called the ‘Odyssey’, and that you were looking for a way home. The Power Moon that you just attached to it powered the ship a bit, but you needed six more. He promised that he would help you and Yuu get those moons as payment for your help.

Leona Kingscholar

You were an agreeable person that he tolerated. He wasn’t particularly fond of your social personality, but you were at least able to pick up on it and keep conversations professional. He, too, has had to call you a few times for plumbing issues, and you would keep talking to a minimum as he showed you where the issue was. The first time you disappeared into the pipe itself, though, made him sort of freak out. He thought you weren’t magical and that you were just an ordinary plumber.

Well, whatever you did, you did your job well. The plumbing didn’t have any issues for a while after that, and he gave you a small (but still considerable) sum of money as payment. You immediately invested it into Ramshackle, as you wanted to help Yuu and Grim out as much as possible. You and Leona did not cross paths after that, you understanding that he wasn’t a very friendly person.

That was, until Leona overblotted. You are called because of the work you had done for Riddle. Once again, you threw your hat, and Capps landed on the lion’s head. Leona took the backseat in his own mind and you were, once again, steering the ship. Your presence was somehow calming, but he noticed that your normal red hat was not on your head. Instead, it was on his head. You encouraged him to keep fighting for #1 in any race he went through, and he really felt it in his soul.

Anyways, you were a bit more used to taking control over the overblot monster by this point, so you had consciousness for 5 minutes instead of 5 seconds. Of course, you were tired. Your father had not trained you, and thus you were having trouble adjusting to taking over someone/something else’s body. You were able to get the Power Moon and make it about 30 steps before passing out.

Leona woke up in the infirmary wondering where you were. He knows that you had been there to recover from taking over his body, and you probably needed a longer recovery period than he did because you didn’t really have magic. He walked all the way to Ramshackle in search of you just to see the Odyssey firing up once again after you added the second Power Moon. 

You explained that this could be a way to help Yuu get home as well as yourself, and for some reason, Leona resented the thought of you leaving. You were the only person who knew his weaknesses as well as his strengths, and if you were gone, he would have no one he could be vulnerable with. However, he did also vow to help you restore your ship, because you deserved to go back to the Mushroom Kingdom.

Azul Ashengrotto

Neither he nor any of the other mer-students know the first thing about plumbing, so when the pipes get clogged because someone flushed something they were not supposed to, you were the person he called. You were actually very friendly and very willing to do your work with a smile, and he offered you 3 weeks’ worth of vouchers for food and drinks at the Mostro Lounge. What he did not expect was for you to go inside the pipes.

Because you were employed by Crowley himself, there was no need for actual payment from Azul. However, he almost felt obligated to compensate you for your work. Thus, the vouchers. You were there the next week, actually, and Jade was your server. He told his boss that you were there, and the cecaelia found himself rushing out of his office to sit with you and speak with you. It was a very nice conversation, actually.

Anyways, when Azul overblotted, you were immediately called. You were well-versed in battling and swimming, plus you now had experience with battling overblots. Cappy flew through the water like he flies through the air, and you took over the body of the overblot victim. Inside, you saw a small version of Azul… when he was more ‘squishy’, as Floyd had so kindly referred to him. You went up to him and patted his head (which had Cappy on it) before telling him that he was doing a good job, and that he shouldn’t give up.

Spending this amount of time was really stretching yours and your hats’ boundaries, and you flew out of Azul’s mind like you were ejected from something. You spent a total of 10 minutes in the cecaelia’s mind, and you were exhausted. You thought your condition after Leona was bad, but this was worse. You were hallucinating as well as stumbling. You saw three Power Moons, and used the very last of your energy to target the middle one. Unfortunately for your dignity, you missed it completely.

Azul was in no better state than you were, and he woke up the next day in the infirmary. However, from what he remembered seeing, you had collapsed. Thus, shouldn’t you have been in the infirmary as well? He asked the nurse attending, and they said that you had woken up only a half-hour later and went right to Ramshackle. So guess where he went? To get himself spooked by you adding the third Power Moon to the Odyssey. The ship rattled with life, floating for a few seconds before sinking back to the ground.

You turned around and spotted your cecaelia friend as well as Leona and Riddle. The latter two were there out of obligation, as they felt as though they should be there to commemorate the progress you were making with getting you and Yuu home. Azul greeted you before asking about your weird ship, and you jumped up into it and told him as well as the other two, and Yuu and Grim, everything there was to know. 

Kalim Al-Asim

He called you regularly, mainly because you were his friend, but also because people keep flushing insects that they find down the toilets after they pick them up with toilet paper. All that toilet paper caused it to get clogged multiple times, but you didn’t mind. Every single time you came, Kalim knew that you were going to do a good job, and after he would pay you a handsome sum of money. That money went right to Ramshackle dorm.

The first time you went over to fix the plumbing was a time of wonder for the Housewarden. You went inside of the pipes, and you came back out completely dry. He was absolutely amazed by your ability, and the pipes were completely fine from that point on for the next few months. That was, until the plumbing was clogged again and he got to call you again. This started a very cute friendship between you both.

When Jamil overblotted, Kalim was even more startled when you threw your hat at Jamil before you got teleported. When the dust settled, the Octotrio, Grim, Yuu, and he noticed that you weren’t with them. You were, instead, inside the mind of Jamil, trying to get him to relax. However, this was unlike anything you had seen before. By the time you had gotten out, you were throwing up because of the overexertion that you had caused yourself.

Kalim returned just in time for you to pass out. You didn’t even reach the Power Moon this time. However, in the infirmary, you woke up just 30 minutes later trying to leave. The nurses as well as he were wrestling and arguing with you so that you could rest. However, you used your superhuman strength as well as your ability to jump to your advantage. You ran to Ramshackle, the young Al-Asim trailing after you as best as he could.

There, he saw Yuu and you adding a moon-shaped thing to a weird-looking ship. You gave him a hug like you didn’t just fight against him, and you took him aboard the Odyssey to give him a tour. He was like a kid in a candy store, completely amazed at the piece of machinery. Sure, Twisted Wonderland was known for many sorts of odd things, but he hasn’t seen anything like the Odyssey. There was nothing in T.W. that actually could travel between dimensions like you promised it could.

However, if you and Yuu were going to leave, Kalim would definitely miss you both. After all, you both became good friends over the course of his friend’s unfortunate downfall. But, he offers to help you as well as the other three you have called your friends. Actually, Riddle, Leona, and Azul showed up not long after, congratulating you on the 4th Moon. This little group of friends you were creating reminded you of your dad’s friends back in the Mushroom Kingdom.

Vil Schoenheit

He made sure that everyone knew proper bathroom etiquette, as he believes it’s very important. That being said, he calls you at regular intervals to keep up maintenance on the plumbing. Again, it typically follows with some money, as it is a rather filthy job. And again, the money just goes straight to bettering Ramshackle. After all, Grim needs his fancy tuna, and you are the sole breadwinner of the dormitory.

The first time you went into the pipes to perform the proper maintenance, Vil freaked out. You just disappeared into the tubes to the sound of an 8-bit sound. He looked inside of the opened pipe and he saw absolutely nothing. There was no sound, and he didn’t know what happened. He was about to use magic to find you but you came back out with the same sound not five minutes later, raving about how those were the clearest pipes you have seen thus far in the two years you’ve been at NRC.

When he overblotted, he also knew your routine, but Cappy has this thing where it’s like a missile, and it won’t stop until it’s reached its target. That being said, it wasn’t without difficulty that Cappy finally found its way onto Vil’s head after removing his overblot crown. You went into his mind, and found him screaming and pacing. You sat down on the floor and made him sit down in front of you, and you made him go quiet. You reminded him that a story could not exist without a villain, but a villain could exist without a hero, and thus he was technically the hero of the story.

Getting him to a point where you could actually talk to him took a lot of time. Another 10 minutes was spent, and your exhaustion showed. You threw up again, your body unable to withstand being in someone’s mind for that long. However, it was long enough to get the Housewarden of Pomefiore to calm down. Cappy was exhausted as well, and you both passed out. However, you were able to get the Power Moon this time.

After an infirmary trip and a speedy recovery from the two of you, as one has superhuman abilities and the other has a healthy lifestyle, you both made your way to Ramshackle. Because of what you had gone through that day, you decided it was time to show him the Odyssey, and he was honestly impressed by the craftsmanship on the ship. You obviously cared a lot, and because this was the 5th Moon, it was starting to operate and hover above the ground.

The Odyssey groaned, becoming awakened at the addition of the Moon. Yuu and Grim started to celebrate and cheer at the prospect of Yuu and you finally being able to go home. Sure, the pyromaniac of a cat would miss his Ramshackle dorm-mates, but this was not a time for sad thoughts. Vil was later joined by Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, and Jamil as they congratulated you on the progression in your journey.

Idia Shroud

The first time he sees you, your hat reminded him of a sequel game in the series I Need to Rescue the Princess From an Evil Turtle Trying to Marry Her!!! However, the reason for your visit was rather embarrassing. One of his inventions kind of went haywire in the bathroom, and the pipes were no longer working. But, you weren’t judging! This was your job, and you were happy to meet new people.

You went inside the pipes, making Idia and Ortho freak out. Where had you gone? You came back out with soot all over your face and clothes. Your expression looked shell-shocked. You quickly shook everything off as you shook the Housewarden’s hand before heading off to your next job. Before you left, however, Ortho rushed to you and gave you a blue sack of money as payment for what you just went through.

When Idia overblots, you were already on-scene. You needed that Power Moon, after all. However, it was going to be much more difficult to obtain it because of the mechanical overblot. Cappy even had a hard time getting into Idia’s personal bubble, much less onto his head. You were close to your limit when your hat finally made it, and you were transported inside his mind. You found him sitting at his older brother’s burial site, and so you laid a flower on the ground before extending your hand to him. This is the first step to moving on, you said. He accepted your hand, and that is when you were ejected out of his mind.

Luckily, you weren’t there for very long. 5 minutes, and you were pretty much fine. You were definitely very dizzy, and you were still stumbling about, but with the help of Ace and Deuce, you were able to get the world to stop spinning for a second. Idia collapsed, and you ran over to see if he was alright. Then, you both were taken to the infirmary, and that was the last thing either of you remembered.

A few hours later, the Housewarden of Ignihyde woke up in the infirmary bed, recollecting his memories. Ortho was right next to him, but he wondered where you had gone. The young robot informed him that you had gone to Ramshackle to add the Power Moon to the Odyssey, and he was so confused. Weren’t those items only in that video game you reminded him of? This was nonsense.

It was not nonsense, as when he made it to Ramshackle, the Housewardens of the other dormitories were there along with Yuu, Grim, and yourself. The Odyssey seemed almost fully functional, save for just one more Power Moon. Everyone knew where that last Power Moon would most likely come from, and to say that you were scared would be an understatement. However, you have Idia’s vow that he will help you prepare for that battle if it’s needed.

Malleus Draconia

He actually has no reason to call you. The plumbing at Diasomnia is always in perfectly functioning order, and no maintenance is needed because it’s his magic that makes it run perfectly all the time. But, he did find the fact that NRC had a student plumber to be rather interesting, so he decided to have Lilia call you to run general maintenance on the plumbing system anyway.

You showed up with your toolbox and a smile on your face, not even being deterred by the spooky appearance of the Diasomnia dormitory. The Koopa Castle was much scarier back in the Mushroom Kingdom, anyway. You knocked on the door, and it was answered by two knights, one you recognized as your classmate, Silver. They led you to Malleus, and he was a lot taller than you imagined. Anyway, you asked where the most accessible location to the pipes was, and he showed you one of the restrooms. He did not expect you to enter the pipes.

This little job actually started a friendship between you two, and he would ask many questions about your occupation as well as your homeland. You told him about your father and mother, and how you were technically the heir to the throne of the Mushroom Kingdom, but you needed to find a way back home. That brings up the Odyssey, and he goes with you to visit it and see what it was. At this point, it was right after Riddle’s overblot, so there was only one Power Moon.

One thing he was surprised to see was that his magic did not work when it came to powering the Odyssey. It required a more powerful type of magic that not even he had. He was sure that his grandmother nor any of the other 3 most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland could even attempt to power the ship. It was made to transverse between dimensions, and their magic was made to transverse between the realms of Twisted Wonderland.

Six overblots later and you’re terrified. You tell him that you are terrified of him overblotting because you were just exhausted. You knew that you would not be able to defeat him, and you didn’t want him to overblot at all because you knew that it would kill him. Malleus was saddened to hear your pain, and how you were very close to giving up on your dream as well as Yuu’s dream just because you physically couldn’t handle it.

But, the two of you knew that only overblots brought Power Moons. As much as the Housewarden wanted to deny it, he knew that if anyone were to overblot, it would be him. He also knew that there was no way Cappy, your hat, would be able to stay on his head long enough for you to be able to calm him down while you are in his mind. If he could, he would assure you that you had nothing to worry about, but because you knew of his tendency to get attached to those closest to him, you had everything to worry about.

[philtstone]

juliet/shawn | bandaging an injury and/or falling asleep on a shoulder pleaseeeeee

i spent way too much time on this considering im still not sure how i feel abt the end result? i know in fantasy psych land concussions are a fun and easy trope but for whatever godforsaken reason i kept thinking "but the REALISM". like an idiot. anyway, set at some point in the second half of s3, but before the finale. enjoy!

Juliet is officially miserable. 

Her head hurts. Her ankle hurts. And, in between the stale Clorox fumes of the supply closet she’s currently wallowing in, creeping tendrils of embarrassment have wafted their way into her mental bubble and are sedimenting around her ears. 

This is so mortifying.

She’s supposed to be a good cop. She’s supposed to be beyond this kind of silly mistake. She’s not supposed to be knocked out and locked up in an ancient janitorial cupboard while the unexpected cabal of burlier-than-average plumbers (electricians? Air conditioning repair men? Juliet couldn’t quite catch the uniform logo) panic in the next room over whether the rest of the SPBD have wised up to their shockingly well-hidden gun smuggling ring.  

It was supposed to be an easy lead that she could follow up on all by herself, without Lassiter's overbearing, well-meaning interjections in her ear. His ability to trust her input has definitely grown, but sometimes Juliet gets tired of being ordered around. He was all wrapped up in the Rosenbaum case, anyway, and she was only dealing with a single teenage girl, alone and helpless against the world, worried about her idiot boyfriend’s midnight activities. Not five large men who got the drop on her in that alley way faster than Juliet is comfortable admitting. It wasn't even a particularly nefarious attack or anything – they panicked and knocked her behind the head, and Juliet was so surprised she tumbled down the back alley steps, like an idiot. Now she has a twisted ankle, a scraped up cheek, and is smack in the middle of a truly pounding headache that’s been around since the second she woke up. Now she's stuck here, unable to call for backup and with no idea when and how anyone's going to find her. Worst of all, now her favorite orange top is stained with whatever all-purpose cleaner was spilled onto the floor of this gross supply closet, now she’s scuffed the backs of her heels when wiggling them off so her swollen ankle throbbed just a little bit less, and now the flowery glass beads from the chopsticks in her hair are poking uncomfortably into the back of her neck. 

They haven't even tied up her hands. Her lame injuries and the comically large lock on the door are all the explanation necessary for why she’s not breaking out of here anytime soon. The only silver lining is the vent beside the closet door, which is probably the only reason she hasn’t yet suffocated on the cleaning supply fumes.

To add insult to injury, her stomach is growling loudly.

It’s all so unfair, she thinks. Lassiter’s going to be insufferable if he ends up having to come and rescue her, and half the progress they’ve made over the past year will be out the door. So long to him trusting her to do things alone. She’s dangerously close to feeling tears prick her eyes and just starting to wonder if she shouldn’t have put more stock in Shawn's two-days-prior vision about the new Nintendo Wii version of Mario Party when a muffled shuffling sounds abruptly from outside the thin closet door. 

Juliet stiffens.

It could be anything. It could be the plumbers returning; it could be a rat; it could be Candace -- that insufferable little snitch -- here to gloat about pulling the wool so successfully over a well-meaning Juliet’s eyes. So much for girl power, Juliet thinks uncharitably. She really hopes it’s not a rat. The shuffling turns into a faint scraping noise, then a clicking. Maybe it’s the vents. Maybe it’s the pipes, and these plumbers should spend more time plumbing and less time dealing arms. Maybe –

"Jules?"

Juliet blinks twice. This is it, she decides. The hunger and chemicals and possibly-a-concussion have gotten to her. She's started hearing voices. Not just any voices, but a-crush-that-it-is-absolutely-unwise-for-her-to-have voices. So what if in her knocked out delirium she considered, briefly and for a second only, what it would feel like to have him sitting here beside her, wrapping her up in a warm and secure hug that would make the dizziness and sprained ankle go away? That was a daydream that took place under psychological duress and was exclusively between Juliet and her god. There is no reason why –

“Juliet?” sounds Shawn Spencer’s unmistakable whispered tenor for a second time from behind the locked door. Juliet gasps. She sits up against the bucket digging into her back and ignores the wave of dizziness that washes over her. 

“Shawn?” she hisses in reply.

“Ha!” responds his disembodied voice. “I told Gus you’d be in here. Hang on, stand back.”

She watches, wide-eyed, as with a very faint click, the doorknob of the supply closet door turns an inch and the door pops open with a faint creak. Yellow light spills in from the old hallway and frames a grinning, familiar shape. She knows the t-shirt (characteristically green) and the jeans (uncharacteristically dirty) and his styled hair, which is mussed and flattened at the top like he’s been shimming through tight spaces, concerningly well. She’d just recently been ill-advisedly fantasizing about him, after all. Juliet blinks twice to make sure she isn’t dreaming. 

“Is that – a lock pick in your hand?” she hears herself say.

Shawn looks down at the unmistakable lock pick very obviously in his hands. 

“... No?”

Juliet has so many questions.

“And I have many answers,” Shawn says, shoving his tools into his back pocket and shuffling to her side on his hands and knees (he only just avoids knocking over a mop), “mostly to other, unrelated questions that you will not be asking. How’s your head?”

“H-how – how did you –”

He grins a little crooked grin at her and waves two fingers in the air. 

"Shawn,”  she whispers, frowning and not buying it, “what are you doing here?"

"Finding you, of course," Shawn whispers back. The cramped dimensions of the closet require him to fold himself closely against her, his dusty knees against her own. The muffled voices of their perps float down the hallway. Of course. Shawn is close enough that she can see the earnest curve of his eyebrows and smell the weird musty metallic tinge clinging to his clothes.

“Shawn,” she whispers again, “did you crawl through the vents?”

“Would you be into it if I said I did?”

The honest answer would probably be a little, but exclusively from the part of her who hallucinated hug action while unconscious. Consequently, "Oh my God," she hisses, ignoring him and the faint white spots dancing in front of her eyes. "How did you -- where's Lassiter?"

"Camped out outside and still trying to figure out how to bust into this place without starting a firefight. Those carpenters are packing some mean heat, Jules."

"You're a civilian!"

"That word has so many syllables. Here, hold these.”

She splutters as he pulls a battered cardboard shape from his jacket pocket and presses this into her hands.

Shawn’s always been the kind of good looking that takes a second or third look to notice. This frustrates her, like so many other things about him do, because it means the handsomeness sneaks up on her in quiet moments, like this one, where he’s looking at her with an expectant expression of genuine concern that her head hurts too much to dodge neatly. She’s still dizzy. He’s still here. Colorful cartoon shapes look up at her from the front of the Band Aid box. 

“You just … happened to have this on you?” Juliet asks weakly.

“These,” he agrees easily, “a taser. A sample of Gulligan’s Sweet and Salty Almond Butter that’s probably gone bad in my breast pocket. Jules, you’re bleeding.”

“I fell,” Juliet begins. The closet is dim, but there’s just enough light from outside that she can see the serious flutter in the back of his eyes. Suddenly she feels the need to explain. “Not on purpose,” she says. She knows her own eyes are wide. She hopes it isn’t obvious that she’s pleading. “I – I had to follow my hunch.”

“I know,” Shawn says simply, and nothing else. Her heart jumps dimly in her chest, and maybe that’s why Juliet doesn’t say anything when his hands move up to cup her jaw. He tilts her head to the side and brushes his thumb carefully under the bruising scrape that’s been stinging for the last thirty minutes. The pads of his fingers are warm and dry and the pinch between his brows is frustrating the same way his looks are; it sneaks up on her. She didn’t think Shawn was capable of being so gentle. He reaches down, one hand holding her face, and peels the paper off of a little butterfly bandage with Velma’s goofy grin on it. 

He’s talking again, easy and breezy and still in that whisper, like they do this all the time.

“Trust me. When you’ve been friends with Gus long enough, having Scooby-Doo themed first aid on you at all times is a legal requirement absolutely pursuable in a court of law. I’d say for twelve states, including the great nation of Puerrrrto Rico, which deserves independence, don’t you think?” The soft gauze in the center of the Band Aid presses soothingly over her cut face. She forgets to be mad and embarrassed and dizzy, just for a second. “Hm,” says Shawn. “I should’ve given you Daphne. The purple would’ve complimented your shirt.”

“For Gus,” she finally manages in a whisper, responding to his first point. “Because he’s so accident prone.”

“Definitely.” Shawn doesn’t miss a beat. “Gus is the one who broke his arm twice in tenth grade -- didn’t you know?” 

“Shawn,” she says. He squeezes her empty hand. 

“What say you and I get outta here?”

It’s her line. She knows how to do this. “I wouldn’t say no to a moonlit stroll.” 

Shawn grins. Despite the frustration, it’s easy with Shawn. It’s always been easy, with Shawn. He waggles his eyebrows.

"Sounds romantic."

"I was thinking ... haunting. Halloween." Juliet has to search for her words. "Oh! Spooky. No kissing allowed."

“Okay,” he says, again, simply. “C’mere.” 

She blinks a few times to focus. When she does, she looks at him as seriously as he’s looking at her. “Oh. Shawn. You’re going to … carry me?” she asks finally.

“Yes,” Shawn replies, with that expectant solemnity that always makes it sound like he’s waiting for everyone else to catch up.

"Why?" she asks, confused.

“Because your ankle’s on vacation, and your beautiful brain seems pretty scrambled. And because you are the approximate size and weight of a small bird.”

She probably shouldn’t be as flattered by this phrasing as she is. “Hmmm,” Juliet says. She reaches for him anyway and finds the back of his neck to be very warm – slightly damp with sweat. They only fumble a little bit in the half-dark trying to fit their limbs in the right places as the voices and footsteps in the next room continue. “I’m not fragile,” she informs him in a comically belated way, while Shawn picks her up in short, practical movements that only require a small grunt of exertion and his knee under her ass for leverage. Her feet dangle. Juliet didn’t realize her ankle was that swollen.

Like a little stockinged balloon, she thinks. Ow.

“I never said the small bird couldn’t totally judo flip my ass,” Shawn mutters. He looks kind of silly, Juliet decides, as far as rescuers go. From this angle she can sort of see up his nose while he cranes his neck to peer out the closet door. Her ankle throbs, but probably less than if she’d tried to stand on it. This is the most intimate they’ve ever been. She can feel his heartbeat against her shoulder and the strong shift of his arms against her back. His shoulders are very solid. And warm. Her hug delusions weren’t all that wrong after all, which might be a worst development than Juliet expected. Juliet doesn’t want to deal with that right now. She lets her forehead drop against his neck while he continues to chatter, presumably for her benefit, at the lowest possible register. She pretends he doesn’t smell good under the lingering strands of possibly-eau-de-vent. They creep out into the hallway, staying close to the wall, and Shawn’s feet are eerily, concerningly quiet. The yellow overhead lights spill over onto Juliet’s face. She winces, closing her eyes.

“... beyond a caboose design. I think that was when Gus discovered he was into clowns, romantically speaking. You can tell him I told you that, by the way.” 

“Ow,” she says, aloud this time.

Shawn’s steady stream of whispers die in the space above her head for only a second. Then he speaks again, soft and murmured:

“Hey, keep it together, Jules. You can’t go giving the small birds a bad name.”

It’s such an inane bit to commit to, the way all his bits are, and suddenly Juliet begins to feel the fuzz creep properly into the edges of her consciousness while her body inadvertently starts to sag. Relief, maybe? She’s not sure. She wonders again how he knew where to look for her. The spirits, her foggy brain supplies. That’s probably it. The only explanation. Like clockwork, Shawn appears on the scene only after she’s handled the situation first, even if she’s handled it poorly. She doesn’t always handle it poorly. Sometimes she handles it really well. Shawn loves to tell her so, and does things like take axes out of her shaking hands or very nearly almost kiss her late at night or ply her with homemade crab cakes while she puts regular, non-Scooby-Doo Band Aids on the gross roller skate blisters on her feet in the Psych office. He does stuff like that no matter how capable or incapable she was on her own. 

“Shawn?” she whispers, as they creep slowly against the wall in a direction she can’t really make out.

“Yeah?” he whispers back immediately. 

“D’you … do you really have’a taser?”

“Sure. Nicked it off Buzz.”

“Tha’s illegal.”

“What? Nah. Tasers are totally pickpocketable items in the state of California. Just ask Gus.”

“Gus’s a pharma … pharmaceutical salesman,” Juliet mumbles.

Is Shawn holding his breath? He's kind of tensed up against her. Juliet’s mind suddenly feels like it’s wading through molasses. Her cheek smushes against his warm collarbone as her head starts to nod. Someone’s talking from a long distance away. The plumbers, maybe. Or were they landscapers …?

A door bangs open and shakes Juliet awake. Footsteps again. Not Shawn’s. Where –

“Jules,” she hears, whispered urgently over her head. “Jules, sweetheart, you can’t fall asleep with a concussion. Just hang on, okay? We’re almost there.”

She’s not asleep, she wants to tell him. And she likes that he called her sweetheart, but she doesn’t like that she likes it. He should know. She likes him. He would be a worse idea than her little jaunt this afternoon, though. She hopes that doesn’t hurt his feelings. It kind of hurts hers. Juliet wants him to call her sweetheart more, even though she doesn’t, and he just has really comfortable arms. It’s embarrassing, but not any more than being stuck in a supply closet with a twisted ankle was. 

When she blinks her eyes open again, it’s harsh and sudden and awful, and she’s sitting in the back of an ambulance groaning at the blinding white light around her. Carlton sits across from her, looking pale.

He reaches out and grabs her arm to steady her. She thinks blearily that he looks scared.

“Don’t be mad,” she blurts out.

“Ju – what the hell are you talking about?” Carlton rasps.

Juliet isn’t sure. The last couple hours are kind of a blur.

“Did we get them?” she says, after a long moment of silent mutual staring. His eyes widen imperceptibly. He coughs. His shirt is open at the neck and his tie is rumpled and he smells like a shooting range. Then he laughs.

“Jesus, O’Hara,” he says. “Yeah, we got ‘em.”

Juliet nods absently. She can see Shawn standing slumped against a cop car through the open back door of the ambulance, over Calrton’s shoulder. He has a split lip that she can’t remember from before – she supposes it was pretty dark in there. Gus, standing beside him, seems to be furiously whispering at him about something, but he waves when he catches her watching. He doesn’t make a move to come over. That’s fine, she thinks. She’s happy just waving back. 

For once, Carlton doesn’t complain.

[commitmentissue]

zombie aftermath challenge - adjusted

i'm absolutely obsessed with all things zombie related, and i've always been dying to try the apocalypse challenge. it looks extremely fun, but i find the original challenge to be a little too hard for my play style, and the aftermath challenge a bit too short. so here's my version of it based off the original apocalypse challenge and this one from cannibalcupcake. the biggest change i've made is that there are much less restrictions. if it's not listed as a restriction, you can do it. my challenge is also a little different, because it gets slightly harder as you move on. there's also only 5 generations because there's really only so much you can do until you're just playing a regular legacy again. i would highly recommend playing with vector if you want actual zombies, along with this mod and this one if you want weapons to kill them. you may use any other violence/weapon mods if you wish. if not, you may use cheats to get around killing them or any sims. this is pretty long, so everything is included under the cut 🧟‍♂️

to start off with, any surviving sims and heirs must have at least one survival trait. if they get any non-survival trait, they must be killed off when they reach young adult. you may only choose the founder's traits, the rest of your sims have to be randomized. any other traits not listed are fine, i tried to go with what the original list had and my own personal opinions on what would work.

survival traits

-adventurous -angler -athletic -brave -daredevil -disciplined -eccentric -eco-friendly -family oriented (all sims who give birth must have this trait, if they do not, they must be killed off after giving birth. the children may survive) -gatherer -genius -green thumb -handy -kleptomaniac -light sleeper -lucky -natural cook -never nude -nurturing (they may also have this instead of family oriented, but same rules apply) -perceptive -technophobe -vegetarian

non-survival traits

-absent minded -brooding -clumsy -coward -hates the outdoors -heavy sleeper -insane -loser -neurotic -couch potato -hot-headed -over-emotional -unlucky -unstable

stage zero - infection

the world as we know it has fallen- no more electricity, no more jobs, no more people. there's zombies roaming around, after all. however, you managed to survive the end of the world, and now it's up to you to rebuild it.

to survive stage zero;

start off with two young adult sims, can have any traits but must have at least one survival trait. these will be the only sims whose traits you can choose, so pick wisely!

must live in a fenced in lot, if a sim leaves the lot for any reason besides an expedition or killing loitering zombies, they must be killed off

must grow your own food, there's no supermarket

must produce a surviving heir, have has many kids as you need to until you can do this. you also must try for a baby every time your sims want to woohoo

your sims may not have a job or be self-employed. money is obsolete now. you cannot sell anything in your inventory

you cannot interact with any sims outside of the family, they're all zombies!

cannot use any electricity. a stove and refrigerator are fine, they just have to be the cheapest one, you also cannot upgrade anything to unbreakable. you cannot repair or replace anything unless your sim is handy or has mastered the handiness skill. once it breaks, it's gone.

if you can justify something as battery powered, it is allowed, but if it breaks it cannot be fixed or replaced

may use plumbing, but no showers (yes, even the outdoor shower unless you don't like mods). sponge baths only. same rules as electricity

may go on expeditions outside the lot once a week, but once you have children only one sim may go outside until you get a teenager

this stage will be completed once your heir has aged up to a young adult.

stage one - lawless land

you and your family thought you had this survival thing down, until other survivors came pouring into town. now you have to defend yourself not just from the zombies, but from other people as well.

to survive stage one;

your heir must join the criminal career and until they are level 5, they must pay a $300 tax to the gangs every week

you may only marry and talk to other sims in the criminal career

you can only join the thief branch, your sim isn't the big bad guy

you can no longer use any plumbing or electrical items, the gangs have tainted the water and have completely shut off all power

can still go on weekly expeditions, but now you must roll a die on whether or not the sim will die. even for life, odd for death

you may also only leave during the night now, as the gangs patrol the streets

you can only have two children, but if neither survive you can try again. your sims must try for a baby every time they woohoo, so be careful, any extra children must be killed off

master the athletic skill

master the logic skill

reach the top of the criminal career

this stage will be completed once you have topped the criminal career and your heir has aged up to a young adult.

stage two - military power

you grew up knowing that all hope was lost and the past was in the past, until one day the military rolled into town and announced they were taking over. they've vowed to wipe out all the zombies across simlandia, but can you really trust them?

to survive stage two;

your heir must join the military career, and until they reach the top of the career they must pay a weekly $100 tax for each sim in the household (5 sims = $500)

you may only marry and talk to other sims in the military career

you may now use plumbing again, but only from 2PM-5PM

you can use electricity after reaching level 5 in the career, the military provides you with a generator. they must be the cheapest items

you can now use the cell phone again, but only for calls (treat it like a walkie-talkie or radio)

all food must be rationed, you can only keep 5 of each type of produce/meat. the rest must be 'donated' to the military (aka just throw it out, no selling!)

you can have as many kids as you want, but keep the taxes in mind. you can still only try for a baby when woohooing

you may now go on as many expeditions as you'd like at any time of day, but you still must role a die on your chances. even for life, odd for death

master the athletic skill

master the handiness skill

this stage will be completed once you have topped the military career and your heir has aged up to a young adult.

stage three - the cure

the military has announced that the only way to get rid of the zombies is to set off bombs. but this means you and your family could die, and all that they've worked for will be destroyed. it's up to you to save simanity.

your heir must join either the medical or science careers, but these are no longer jobs- you are a volunteer and money earned must be given back to the career of your choice. you can save $50 each payday

every promotion you get you must roll a die to decide if you lived or died while attempting to create the cure. even for life, odd for death. after 3 successful attempts, the cure has been made

you can now marry and talk to sims outside of your career, but no one from the military

plumbing is now unrestricted

electricity is now unrestricted, but you can still only use the cheapest items

sims no longer need family orientated/nurturing to give birth now that the hospital has been set up. you also no longer have to try for a baby every time they want to woohoo

food is no longer rationed, but you don't trust the meat the military provides. your family must be vegetarian (does not need the trait)

have as many children as you can, you're trying to repopulate and also make sure someone else can take over for you in case you fail at creating the vaccine

master gardening skill

master handiness skill

this stage will be completed once you have successfully created the cure and your heir has aged up to a young adult.

stage four - survival of the fittest

your parent's cure has been spread around the world, and the zombies have been wiped out. the world is ready to return to normal, but what is normal? you were born into a world of survival, you don't know anything else.

your heir may now join any self-employed career

your sims will no longer need to be killed off for having a non-survival trait, but they must be kicked out at young adulthood

all plumbing and electricity has been fixed and you can now afford nicer things- but do you really want them at this point?

your sim must live off the land, no buying things from stores, you don't trust anything from outside your own garden or what you've caught yourself

you can leave the lot whenever you want and no longer need to worry about rolling a die- it's safe outside!

do not get married

master gardening, inventing, and fishing

reach level 5 in 3 other skills of your choice

raise a spoiled child, they don't have to worry about their life anymore, so they're nothing like you. do not have a close relationship with your children

as an elder, move to a city to see what the new world has become. it's up to you what to do next

this stage will be completed once your heir dies.

and then that's it! you're welcome to continue the legacy past this however you'd like, but that's where i'm going to end it at. if you try this challenge you can @ me, i'd love to see it 💚 any feedback is much appreciated

[jaimistoryteller]

Plumbing Emergency! Help Please!

12/12/2023 3:00 am

Today [technically yesterday as I posted this as it's now 3:30 am] I was trying to fix a pipe, and the on/off valve broke, so I got to deal with 10ish hours of getting soaked while trying to deal with it. I finally got the water directed outside, so I could stop for the night.

Already got a hold of several repair peeps, the best one is sadly still outside my reach, so any and all help would be appreciated, since I won't have water til that situation is dealt with.

That said, I need $637. That's $237 to get me out of the negative and $400 for the plumber to come and repair it [rough estimate for parts, labor, and dispatch].

If I can get to at least $318 I can have them come repair the valve, so I don't have to spend however much longer fighting with it myself. Please share this, thank you all,

Jaimi

$637

Cash app $jaimist

venmo @JaimiST

Ko-Fi

Paypal: cosmosbusinessventures@gmail .com or Paypal Me

Share this post; my venmo, paypal, or cash app with a note about how it can help.

[pixeldistractions]

She made this camper so cozy. Who would have thought you could bake bread from scratch in a Dutch oven over the campfire? She served blackberry preserves on toast, planted herbs in tiny pots on the counter, then she filled the produce baskets with actual fresh produce. “That’s what they’re there for, silly,” she said. She watched camper hack videos on YouTube—a cutting board over the sink for more counter space. How clever. She noted the dimensions, and he cut it to size for her. She bought string lights to hang under the awning, a decorative citronella candle for the picnic table.

“You shouldn’t buy so much,” he said. “You don’t need to. If you wait, I’ll buy it for you.”

But he couldn’t, not really, not while also fixing the solar panel and manifesting walls out of scraps and sending back money for his boys. She shouldn’t have to wait for her home to feel homey. He wanted her to feel at home here, so he kept quiet and tried not to notice if she went to Target again for throw blankets or rugs, or towel racks and pot holders. He would just unbox the hardware and install it for her.

It was a silly idea anyway that if they lived simply enough, frugally enough, he might provide everything they needed and wanted, and maybe he could imagine himself the exact opposite of the freeloading loser Colette always said he was.

But Jordan did pick up some work. Very good work, actually. He snagged a small contract with a local university, upgrading their dorm plumbing, and that would keep him occupied for a couple of weeks. It was a nice chunk of change, though of course, Colette would want some of it.

Still, he would have enough money to finish the last of the major repairs. Finally. The only thing left was to replace the solar battery converter, ironically, now that they were plugged into the power grid.

The nights were longer now, but still cozy enough in the lower altitudes of Nevada to spend the evenings outside. They had dinner by the sunset’s last light, then they settled in beside the campfire.

“You don’t have to spend all your money on that battery thing,” she said. “I can pay for some of it.”

“No, you don’t have to. I’ll just pick up a couple more jobs.”

He was weird about taking her money, and she wondered why?

“Okay, I need you to talk to me,” she said, hushed, after taking note that Johanna wasn’t paying any attention to them.

He looked startled, like he was in trouble. She smiled. “No, it’s not like that, don’t worry,” she said. “But, there’s something I’ve been wondering about… why don’t you want me to pay for anything?”

His eyebrows raised, lips pinched.

She stroked his fingers while he refrained from answering her question. “You’re my best friend, you know?”

“You’re mine, too,” he said.

“And best friends tell each other things.”

“I’m… embarrassed of it.”

“You don’t need to be.”

“Okay…” An audible swallow, a slight squirm, a deep breath. “I was younger, twenty-two, after my dad died. I was in a lot of trouble with the foreclosure and some credit debts. So when Colette and I got friendly again, I let her help me out with it. But it didn’t stop there. It was like I would never live that down for the rest of my life, like even after I paid her back, no matter how much money, no matter how much effort, no matter that I stayed home with the boys for two whole years while she finished school, I could never pay her back enough to be even. I still can’t.”

“First, that’s really cruel,” Maria said. “Second, I wouldn’t do that to you. Third, it’s only $800, we can go halves.”

“Yeah, it’s only $800, then I can earn that much in three jobs. Will you let me?”

Every time she felt she might have found an opening to confess her terrible secret wealth, the moment proved to be exactly wrong. “Yeah, of course. But next time, I’ll help. Deal?”

“Sure. But you need to let me make it up to you for all those cozy pillows you bought,” he said, smirking now. She was glad to see that startled panic gone.

“Those pillows were nothing,” she said. “I got them in the clearance section.”

She didn’t know how to tell him that the battery converter would make barely a dent in her savings, and she also wasn’t convinced he would see that as a good thing. It seemed important that he paid for this himself. So she would let him. This time.

— “boxes and squares #5.2: come down from the clouds” (2/10)

previously: a freeloading loser // that money is not for spending on your boyfriend

Next -> // 5.2 start // index

[awesomedrainva]

If you need a water heater installed or repaired, we recommend hiring a professional plumbing technician. Water heater installation and repair can be dangerous for homeowners because these processes involve working around hot water, gas lines, or electricity. In addition, it’s important to have the finished product inspected to ensure that your unit will be safe to use.

The experienced plumbing technicians at Awesome Drain Cleaning and Water Line Repair, LLC can handle any water heater installation or issue – just give us a call to get started! We do both standard and tankless water heater installation and repair.

​

Common Water Heater Problems

If you have any of the following water heater issues, give Awesome Drain a call.

​

Unexplained noises, especially when the water is running

No hot water

Not enough hot water

Water not getting hot enough

Pilot light out

[xzerosparrowx]

Here is another little excerpt from the current Steddie WIP that I've been writing. In this fic Eddie still lives with his parents. It's still in its draft stage, but I like the dialogue and the vibe.

In this excerpt, Eddie is getting Alan out of jail.

-

They walk down the familiar hallway, the familiar anti-drug posters, that one flickering ceiling light that needs to be replaced until they reach a set of cells. Alan is standing, swaying slightly with sweat beading on his upper lip, his right shoe missing and his threadbare shirt ripped at the collar. 

“Eddie, my boy! You know how awful it is to sleep in here? They don't give you a fucking pillow, gotta be against the Geneva Convention or some shit,” Alan rambles, his words slurring as if he was still drunk. Alan is sober, it's just how he sounds now. 

“Did you get into a fight, again?” Eddie asks, leaning against the wall opposite, crossing his arms over his chest as Hopper unlocks the cell door.

“Some fuckin’ yuppies thought they were better than me. Fuckin’ assholes,” Alan mumbles as he stumbles out of the cell, Eddie and Hopper following behind him back out the hallway.

“College kids, Alan tried to steal one of their wallets,” Hopper amends to Eddie.

“Allegedly, I allegedly tried to steal their wallet.”

It is completely dark when they step outside, the street lights casting its golden glow on the pavement beneath “where’s the fucking car?” Alan drawls, staring dumbly towards the parking lot, no van in sight.

“You and Beth crashed my car, remember?” Eddie sighs, too tired to snap at Alan, too tired to care about Hopper staring at him.

“You should probably get it fixed then,” Alan answers unhelpfully, staggering his way towards the nearest bus stop, leaving Hopper and Eddie to themselves. 

“You know, if he was my Dad, I wouldn’t be paying for his bail,” Hopper says quietly and Eddie feels a familiar flash of anger, the burning embers of shame at the pit of his stomach.

“Good thing he ain’t your Dad then,” Eddie snaps, pulling out a cigarette from the crumpled box in his pocket and shoving it between his lips. He clicks the lighter, swearing under his breath when he struggles to light his fucking cigarette, he just needs a fucking light. Just needs something to fucking work for him. 

 “Just don’t let your parents drag you down with them,” Hopper says, taking out his own lighter and handing it to Eddie. 

“Look,” Eddie lights his cigarette, hands it back to Hopper and puts his own lighter back in his pocket, “I appreciate the whole good cop routine, but don't condescend to me about my fucking life, ok?”

“Ok.” 

“Thanks for the light,” Eddie mumbles in lieu of saying goodbye, turning on his heel and walking to the bus stop where Alan is sitting.

Eddie stands near Alan and all he can think about is the cut of money that he was supposed to give to Rick, the groceries, the bus fare, the water bill, the repairs for his van, the repairs for the plumbing. He will have to use the money from his actual job to give Rick his cut, and will have to spend the week eating slices of bread and canned soup-.

“I fucked up, didn't I?” Alan asks, staring out across the street at nothing.

“I was supposed to give Rick his cut, but I paid for your bail instead. So yeah, you did fuck up,” Eddie drops his cigarette, squishing it underneath his foot just as the bus rounds the corner to the street.

“I don't know why I'm like this,” Alan chokes out, his voice thickening and face crumpling before Eddie.

Alan Munson had a job once, was normal for a brief period of time where he was able to afford a house and go on a family trip to another state at least once a year. Eddie has vague memories of those years, too young to remember the details of the Grand Canyon or the beaches in California, now immortalised in photographs. Eddie hates looking at those pictures now. Hates seeing Alan almost losing it just as much.

“It's ok Dad, I'll figure it out.”

[stardewremixed]

More Gus Headcanons

has a specialized knife with his initials from back in his army days

doesn't like guns even though his has his dad's old hunting rifle

has wicked chopping skills

can expertly gut a fish

worked as a cook during his time in the military - and his unit appreciated it and his ability to get rare spices and make their rations taste 1000% better

this inspired him to attend culinary school on his military benefits.

really embraces the "gentle giant" persona

gives the best bear hugs

never had kids of his own, but spoils his nieces and nephews when they come to town

he would make a fantastic dad, though (I just know this!)

is a champion bowler and drives to the next town over once a month to bowl with his old army buddies

makes hand-churned butter that would make anyone melt with happiness (the absolute best addition to his freshly baked pastries)

hates glasses because they get in the way of his day-to-day life so he wears contacts instead

his hand-rolled dough for pizza is legendary - and a favorite of Shane's, Sam's, and Alex's

writes a thank you note by hand after receiving a gift; his penmanship is a bit messy, but it's the thought that counts

has a hefty handshake

is pretty handy - he can do basic plumbing repairs, patch a roof, re-caulk a bathtub, etc. but most of the time, he hires someone to do the work since he doesn't have as much time with running his business, though he did install a railing outside on his steps for his older patrons (like Evelyn)

asked Robin to help him put in a ramp for George so the man can wheel inside himself

could wipe the floor with ya in cards and has the best poker face

could write the book on homestyle cooking (and he might someday, if he works up the courage to share his recipes with the world)

hates cooking shows because he's his own worst critic

is a hairy guy - face, arms, legs, chest, abs, but he draws the line at his back (and so he goes to get it waxed twice a year)

uses an all-natural wax to get his moustache to sit just perfectly

doesn't mind slipping into the spa for a hot soak after being on his feet for most of the day - it's a great way to unwind

was a wrestler in college and briefly thought about going pro

might still challenge someone to an arm wrestling contest at the Stardew Fair in the fall just for fun

his nose is a little crooked from when he intervened in an incident involving a purse-snatcher (though most people think it's from his wrestling or army days)

has very rounded ears, rather petite, for the large man he is

always hires extra help for the festival days, pays well above average, and lets all his employees keep the tips

has a thing for Hercule Poirot in Agatha Christie mysteries - it's gotta be the moustache, right? Hee... hee...

always keeps a book by his nightstand for a little late night reading before he dozes off

has a freakishly good immune system and rarely gets a cold (all those oranges he must be eating)

likes spicy food - but it must have a good blend of flavor and heat!

has a pair of diamond earrings he inherited from his mother and always thought about getting his ears pierced to wear them, but he's afraid of needles

the man is terrified of getting blood drawn and can be a big baby - Harvey always has to ask for extra help from Maru

keeps the doctor's office stocked in homemade candies

brings you a coffee on a blustery day just because

still has a corded phone in the back kitchen

played handbells at church when he was a kid and might... just... might... be persuaded to play at the Feast of the WInter Star

sometimes does ax throwing to blow off some steam (always safely and with proper equipment)

can sew on patches in a pinch, but usually just asks Emily for help

puts mustard on his hot dogs and pretzels and hamburgers

writes a grocery list and then forgets to bring it with him to the General Store, but he's got a decent memory

always pays his taxes on time, if not early

can whistle really loudly

can spike a beach volleyball like nobody's business

has a stamps collection - of little critters and farm animals

Romance Headcanons

took ballroom dance lessons as a young man and was quite popular with all of his partners back in the day

spends most of his evenings tending bar and talking with patrons and cooking, but he might bust a move every once in a while, if persuaded, but he doesn't like to show off so if you join him, he feels less self-conscious

When he's nervous, his hands shake a little, but he calms down if you reach out and squeeze his hands

never wears rings on his fingers because of cooking but he would wear one around his neck if he ever gets married

has a pair of leopard print handcuffs that he got as a joke in Zuzu City one time with an ex and he'll blush up a storm if you ask him about it

would absolutely carry you on his shoulders just so you can reach the best fruits in the orchard

totally has a thing for maid costumes (not in a perverted way, but if you dressed up for him in the bedroom, he wouldn't complain)

is extremely neat in general, speaking of maids, and would expect you to keep your things tidy if you leave stuff at his place

likes building a rip roaring fire on chilly winter nights and cuddle with you on the couch

doesn't think of himself as an uber-attractive guy, but he has a healthy self-esteem and figures he's got a bit of that handsome older gentleman look going

would absolutely hold all your bags if you went on a shopping spree at the mall (and he wouldn't complain about it)

Presses wildflowers between pages in a book - like the bouquet you gave him when you asked him to date you

Would hand write all your wedding invitations - would want to keep the ceremony small and intimate - just good friends and family

This list grew much longer than expected!

[legobiwan]

For a writing prompt: maybe something with Luigi and polterpup? Or just Luigi and ghosts in general. The fact that ghosts are Real and Present in that world has always been super fascinating and a little upsetting to me haha. Could be as light or as angsty as you wish I just think Luigi being terrified of ghosts and having to (or in polterpup’s case, choosing to) be around them constantly is a fun concept to toy around with.

Apologies this took so long, anon. I vastly underestimated the demands of my travel schedule over the past few weeks. Oof. But now we're back!

Minor TWs in this one for general talk of death, existentialism, and broad references to both animal and child death (nothing graphic, nothing extreme, no on-screen death).

~~~~~~~~~~~

Of Ghosts and the Afterlife (Luigi’s Mansion 1)

Luigi didn’t like to think about death.

Not that there was much he could do about it. Death was as inevitable as a subway car with broken air conditioning on a hundred-degree day.

There was no such thing as the afterlife, Luigi having long ago abandoned the faith his brother and what remained of their family clung to, a practice more cultural than spiritual, steeped in the mores and traditions of a country and people he shared little in common with beyond his last name and an untamable mane of wavy, thick brown hair. 

For Luigi, death was death - game over, end of the line, see you never. A philosophical problem he didn’t enjoy contemplating, but one he could easily shove into a forgotten closet of his subconscious, the more pressing concerns of his daily life taking up his mental energies, banal things like scraping up enough plumbing jobs to pay the rent, dealing with corroded spark plugs in the repair van, and being forced make a meal of the questionable meatball subs from the corner bodega.

Death was death. Religion was religion. And ghosts were…a fairytale, a folklore conjured to rationalize away the heavy weight of existential dread. That, or something used as a cudgel, to keep people on the side of moral righteousness, lest they be doomed to walk the earth for all eternity in the shadows of existence.

Ghosts were a thought experiment. A fun diversion in a cramped Bensonhurst studio, the heating bill long unpaid, he and his brother buried under a set of fraying blankets, their father’s hefty industrial flashlight in hand, competing to see who could scare the other the most as the D Train rattled its metal bones past their window at two in the morning.

Mario was good at stories. (Mario was good at everything). And it wasn’t that Luigi was afraid of the spirits his brother would describe in gruesome detail, the way they’d seep through cracks and keyholes, wrapping their grey, misty arms around skinny, lost children who kept too many secrets. No. He couldn’t be afraid because ghosts weren’t real.

Not until he had been unceremoniously dumped into the Mushroom Kingdom, that was. 

He could deal with the existence of Boos. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but he could at least assign them a category outside the paranormal. Boos were just another strange species, a bunch of floating marshmallows that looked like ghosts and acted like ghosts, but in no way were actual ghosts. Boos were something real, something alive, but beyond Earth’s limited taxonomies, just like everything else in this impossible world of talking mushrooms and tyrant turtles and evil wizards and booted dinosaurs and a million-and-one things that could leap out with fangs or fire or spikes and kill you at any moment - 

Death, he had once nervously told his brother over a campfire on the outskirts of Toad Town, felt like it had become a way of life. 

The letter had arrived on a crisp autumn morning, the early sunlight peeking through the gaps of Luigi’s drawn curtains. He remembered thinking it was a clean kind of light, unsullied by the drudgery of heavy coats and thick scarves, of greying slush and oily puddles pooling in the gutter, cigarette butts bobbing up and down like the stained buoys off Brighton Beach. Life had been, if not normal (he didn’t think he’d ever consider his existence in the Mushroom Kingdom normal), at least less chaotic than usual. There had been no invasions, no kidnappings, no pleas from neighboring kingdoms for help. For the first time in a long time, his daily routine was…pedestrian. A little boring, even. It was a nice change of pace.

He should have known better. Did know better. 

No one gave away mansions.

Yeah, and I’m sure they also have a bridge in Brooklyn they’d like to sell me he had muttered, crumpling up the notice, tossing it into a dented, mushroom-shaped garbage pail without another look as he groped for a gurgling coffee pot.

Three days later, a short, wiry old man was thrusting a souped-up vacuum into his hands, blathering all kinds of nonsensical instructions about ectoplasm and strobe lights and hearts and all that Luigi could think through the high-pitched static descending on onto his brain is that my brother is in danger and holy shit this entire mansion is filled with actual, real ghosts.

There was no time to wrap his head around the metaphysics of it all, the very real danger of being killed by an entire army of irate specters overriding any considerations as to the how or why of the entire situation. Ghosts apparently existed, not only as Boos, but as colorful, globulous forms, as cantankerous old knitting women, as mechanical, murderous toy soldiers, and worst of all, as small children and even screaming babies, the terrible implications of which rattled around Luigi’s already frenzied consciousness as he sucked the heart from a wailing infant, in all likelihood murdering it a second time. (A hazy memory had surfaced, a small, doll-like figure laid on a cheap, linoleum kitchen table, legs unstable as a small cadre of extended relatives wept and laid kisses on the child’s forehead. Forty and eight hour, their great-grandmother had commanded in broken English. To be sure the true dead. Spirito.)

It had been less than twenty-four hours, he reminded himself. Mario wasn’t dead. Or undead. Or whatever. Not according to tradition, and certainly not according to Luigi’s empirical observations (which seemed to be holding less and less weight as the paranormal evening drew on). No, he had seen his brother through the marble fangs of the dragon’s head. He was in the painting, banging for his life against an invisible prison of oils and canvas, his mouth open in a silent scream.

A victim of magic, but not a ghost.

Not if Luigi had anything to say about it.

He ran. Up broken, splintering sets of stairs; down dimly-lit corridors with threadbare rugging; through trap doors and flocks of toothy, golden bats, vacuum hose at the ready, sucking away at anything even resembling a ghost (how many curtains, how many dresses and bedsheets had he whisked into shreds all because of the ripple of a breeze or a trick of the light?)

He fought his way through chamber after chamber, slurping phantasms from earthly existence, unwilling to consider just what he’s damning his enemies to, if he’s killing them again, if they can feel pain or remorse, if this whole situation is maybe a figment of his imagination and in reality he’s back in Brooklyn, or worse, committed to a padded cell in Bellevue, colorful apparitions dancing on blank, white walls, the evidence of a broken mind. 

He found his brother’s portrait hung in a baroque, gilded antechamber, the room something as alien as the specters he had been fighting, his grimy boots sinking into blood-red, lush carpeting as gems and pearls and other precious-looking stones twinkled in the light of a silver candelabra. 

The keeper of Mario’s canvas prison turned to greet him, a gargantuan Boo with a jeweled crown named “King Boo” - an uninspired moniker if there ever was one - who pontificated at length, swearing vengeance on both Mario and Luigi, demanding reparations in blood and soul for crimes Luigi couldn’t even begin to understand, no less remember. 

Did I kill him? Luigi had panicked, rooted to the spot, Poltergust in hand as the Boo continued his long-winded diatribe. Is that why he’s a ghost? Did Mario do something? Luigi tried not to think too hard about the ethical dilemmas of their adventures, of their roles as protectors of the Mushroom Kingdom. Sure, people got hurt, that was the nature of the beast, but…

It didn’t matter, not when King Boo conjured a several-story tall likeness of Bowser, whisking Luigi through a portal to the stark rooftop of the dilapidated mansion to engage in a twisted game of cat-and-mouse (ghost-and-plumber), the giant Koopa puppet doing its best to stomp Luigi into a fiery, broken heap of ashes.

He escaped with his life. That, and the promise of retribution from beyond the grave, King Boo spitting all forms of vile epithets and visions of eternal pain as Luigi sucked the last of his bulbous form into the squealing, smoking Poltergust. 

When Mario was spat from E. Gadd’s printing machine, tumbling across the floor in a confused pile of limbs - his brother, real, corporal and definitely not dead - Luigi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

He never wanted to see - never wanted to think about another ghost again in his life.

Of Dogs (Luigi’s Mansion 2)

He supposed it made sense. In a way.

After all, if there were Boos, if there were ghost adults and ghost children and ghost babies - there were bound to be ghost dogs. Maybe ghost cats, as well. Hell, maybe an entire ghost civilization living (dying?) in tandem with his own flesh-and-blood world. 

He hated the idea. It trampled on every tenet of thermodynamics he had carved into his brain at the age of ten, made a mockery of the physics and chemistry and engineering that had carried him through adolescence and into adult life.

The Mushroom Kingdom - that was something he had at least managed to rationalize, had begun to construct a loose schematic for, notebooks upon notebooks filled with messy diagrams and rambling equations, an inadequate translation to his Earth-bound science, but one that allowed him to find some kind of solid footing in this incomprehensible new dimension.

Ghosts did not fit into his neatly constructed template. 

Least of all, ghost dogs.

Of course, the dog had to eat the key and run away, leading Luigi on a wild goose chase (he dearly hoped there was no such thing as ghost geese). He ran pellmell through gardens, through labs, through a series of mansions and other haun - 

Other decidedly creepy spots in the Evershade Valley. Places where he was left to battle groups of angry, globulous…shadows. Specters. Phantoms. Spirits. Poltergeists.

Ghosts. 

Again. 

He would have been angry if he weren’t so terrified. 

The dog, as much trouble as he was (He? She? Did it matter?) had at least not fallen under the spell of the Dark Moon, making him the Least Frightening Ghost of this particular run-in with the ethereal undead and King Boo.

And Luigi could almost get himself to…well…maybe not like him, but tolerate him. Even though the dog ate his keys, left messy trails of crumbs and soggy, half-eaten baguettes, slobbered all over Luigi’s pants, and managed at least once to urinate in a public fountain, a phenomenon Luigi would be puzzling over for months after the fact.

Best of all, the dog, unlike almost everyone else here, wasn’t bent on killing him. 

He was just a normal dog.

Who happened to be a ghost. 

Luigi wondered if he had had a family in life. Children to grow up with. A big house with a yard. He acted more like a puppy than an adult dog, his exuberant chaos reminiscent of the little Golden Retriever pup his second cousins had gotten when their family moved out to the Island. Oyster Bay, he remembers, real fancy stuff. Sal and Tony’s house had had trees. A garage. Separate bedrooms. He and Mario had begged for a dog for weeks after visiting, shuffling furniture around their tiny-windowed room, marking out places in purple chalk for the dog’s water bowl, his kibble, his toys.

Their father had grunted at the proposal, noting the two brothers would have to sleep in the same bed to make the space for their imaginary new pet. This ain’t no place for a dog, you two. You want animals, get a job with the pound. What, you’re still going to beg? Santa Maria. You two share that bed for a week without beating each other up and then come back to me. But I don’t like the odds. You boys haven’t shared a bed since you were seven. Five’ll get you ten you last forty-eight hours before someone’s fist is in the other one's face. 

They lasted three whole days before Luigi had planted his foot in Mario’s kidneys at two in the morning.

They never saw the dog in Oyster Bay again.

A car accident, real unfortunate stuff, Aunt Maria had told them later.

The memory haunted Luigi as he unholstered the Poltergust, forcing his fingers to twist dials and push at levers. He needed that key. It wasn’t just his life on the line if he failed. 

He squeezed his eyes shut as he sucked the ghost dog into the machine, trying his absolute best to ignore the little whines and terrified yips of the struggling not-animal. After what felt like an eternity, he heard the tell-tale “pop” of the Poltergust, signaling his success in capturing yet another ghost, the silver key clanging to the cobble-stoned ground.

Luigi had never felt less heroic in his life.

I just think he wanted someone to play with, E. Gadd had commented offhandedly later, emptying the Poltergust's canister into the gigantic silver ghost vault with his usual detached efficiency, oblivious to the way Luigi's features had paled at the comment.

When he got word of the dog’s escape a few hours later, Luigi didn’t even try to deny his relief.

Of Half-Lives and Vengeance (Luigi’s Mansion 3)

Fatigue. Carelessness. Hubris. Naivete. 

Or maybe it had just been sheer stupidity.

An invitation to vacation at an exclusive, luxury hotel, addressed to him. 

Nice things never happened to Luigi. Or if they did, he could hardly enjoy them, waiting on tenterhooks for the other boot to fall.

The boot fell that evening. It was ghosts. Of course, it was. Nearly twenty floors of ghosts. At this point, he could say he was almost used to it, the creeping shiver up his spine, the gluey residue of ectoplasm which would leave him tattooed with ugly, mottled rashes for weeks on end.

Once again, he had to act as a one-man army against the mass of spectral, malevolent will. Once again, his brother had been trapped in a painting.

There were differences, of course. Polterpup was by his side, the ethereal puppy proving more loyal to Luigi than his fellow spirits. (Luigi could never say Polterpup was "his" in the way most pet owners would lay claim to a regular cat or dog. The ghost puppy had a disturbing tendency to disappear for weeks, sometimes months on end, only to make his return in the most startling manner possible, more than once sending Luigi screaming, flailing off his bed at some weird, inconvenient hour of the night. But for as much as Polterpup could have a "home" - Luigi's house was it).

Luigi also had the help of his pseudo-clone, Gooigi, a horrifying creation of E. Gadd's, an unholy combination of ghostly discharge (the nature of which Luigi did not want to know), coffee, and, Luigi's own biological samples. An impossible being with whom he shared an inexplicable telepathic connection, and if Luigi had had any semblance of a minute to consider what that all meant (was he part ghost now? Could Gooigi outlive him? Would he maintain that consciousness after death?) he would have likely run screeching into the night.

(The fact Gooigi had proven essential to his continued existence did not distract from the wildly dubious ethics behind Gooigi's creation, an issue Luigi was definitely going to have a long talk with E. Gadd about at some point. If he could manage to broach the topic without falling into a breathless panic).

But the most striking aspect of his third encounter with King Boo and his minions, something that wriggled at the base of Luigi's cerebellum as he fought floor upon gimmicky floor the largest array of ghouls he encountered yet, was the element of premeditation.

King Boo had easily disposed of Mario, the Princess, and the Toads during their first midnight encounter. Sure, Luigi had escaped down a laundry chute, chest heaving as he toppled onto a pile of dirty towels. But that shouldn't have posed an issue for this crazed version of King Boo, a being who could literally phase through walls.

Luigi should have been dead, or worse than dead, ten times over.

No, King Boo had decided to wait. To draw out the deep, sustained hum of terror far beyond its final breath.

Security cameras were posted everywhere in the hotel. Luigi had no doubt the ghostly tyrant was following his every move, watching, salivating as he fought and struggled against Egyptian gods and malevolent Mozarts, and bearded, Bayou beasts. (Were these the literal souls of the departed? Was Mozart truly in these walls? Or was this like a ghost Halloween, a once-in-a-deathtime opportunity to fulfill that longing urge to finally be someone who you will never be?)

(He remembers being six years old. Remembers dressing as his brother for Halloween, Luigi stealing Mario's iconic red t-shirt, his parents pleading with him to go as anything else - a spider, a rat, a baseball player - Luigi refusing each entreaty. The other boys aren't going to like it, Luigi, his mother had said, consonants slurring. You're going to get the snot pounded out of you, Dad had added a beat later).

(In the end, he had thrown an old floral bedsheet over his head, not even bothering to cut out eyeholes. I'm a ghost! Luigi had boasted. You're a loser, Vinny Malanga had laughed).

And worst part of it was, Luigi knew it. Knew he could turn any corner, go down any dark hallway and be met with that signature violet gemstone, that bladed, fanged smile ready to slam an empty frame down on his head and trap him for all eternity in oil and canvas. 

Death waited in every shadow.

And King Boo was going to enjoy every minute of it.

Of Death (Epilogue)

Luigi thought he knew death. After three, separate encounters with buildings chock full of the undead, after countless hours spent in the company of the best paranormal researcher he knew (the only one he knew, admittedly), after providing part-time shelter for a genuine ghost puppy, after meeting his half-undead clone - Luigi considered himself, if not comfortable, at least conversant in the hows and whys of the afterlife. 

One day, he tried to stop a wedding between a princess and a monster.

Death, he would learn, was only the beginning.