#You making asparagus?

[gin-juice-tonic]

Ginny needy asparagus

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Hello, I love them and this specific bit of blocking more than anything.

[jellicle-chants]

the hug that last longer than the others

So, this ended up being way longer than I anticipated, so it’s mostly going under a cut.

Rumpleteazer sat on the edge of the roof, knees pulled up to her chest. Her tail twitched, as much as she wanted it to be still. She pressed her eyes shut and sighed.

"Your dad means well, you know." She turned her head to see Asparagus climbing out of the attic window. He tried to stand upright on the shingles, using the eave as a handhold.

"You shouldn't be up here, Da. You're going to fall." She wanted to get up and help, but something was keeping her stuck in place.

"Don't worry about me," he said, crouching down and half-sliding, half-crawling to the roof's edge. "I used to do my fair share of climbing when I was your age."

"Really?" She couldn't help but laugh a little at the idea.

"Of course! Well, you know I'm awfully shy now, but it was even worse when I was a kitten. I would do anything I could not to have to talk to people, so I learned how to climb things better than anyone else could." He looked out over the horizon, the rays of the setting sun casting an orange glow over his white fur. "I would sit up at the tops of trees all day, just doing whatever I wanted to, and I loved it. Of course I would come down for meals and that sort of thing, but otherwise nobody could bother me unless I wanted them to." He turned his gaze back to her, smiling sheepishly. "So, I guess I've come to bother you. But only because I want to make sure you're okay."

Rumpleteazer turned away and rested her head on her knee, not able to meet his eyes. "I'm okay, I guess. I just wanted some time to cool off so I wouldn't stay mad at Dad." She paused, a lump hardening in her throat.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this, but what he said, that's not actually what we want for you."

"What do you want, then?"

"Just that you're safe and happy. Whatever that looks like for you, we can deal with."

"Well, then why didn't he just say that?"

Asparagus took in a deep breath. "Nobody's perfect, apricot." Rumpleteazer felt a rush of heat to her cheeks and blinked away a stray tear. "That's why there are two of us, so in case one of us mucks it up, you have the other one to talk it out with." She could hear his voice get strained, like he too was struggling to speak. "Can I tell you something?"

She nodded, turning her head to look at him again. The sun had set enough now that he was cast in shadow, only his eyes reflecting the last specks of light in the sky.

"We were never mad at you, or disappointed. But we were scared, very very scared, that you might—" He broke off, and the next moment she was hugging him, burying her face in the fur of his chest; and he held her close. She had no idea how long they stayed like that, but when she finally lifted her head, night had settled in around them, the streetlamps illuminating the world below in pools of warm yellow light.

Rumpleteazer chuckled, wiping the corners of her eyes. "I think dinner might be ready by now." She stood up, offering her father a hand, which he took gratefully, and they began walking back together.

"Yes, I expect we'll be in for quite a scolding. And, if you wouldn't mind, I'd rather he not know I was climbing about on the roof."

"Your secret's safe with me, Da. Just so long as you can slip me an extra piece of pie at dessert."

"I think that can be arranged," Asparagus said with a grin, closing the window sash. "Now let's hurry, before our food gets cold."

[icewindandboringhorror]

More misc. daily life pictures and such

[lexkent]

i'm telling you if you put this zesty lime glaze on your veggies after cooking, you will thank me

2 tablespoons butter, melted 1 garlic clove, grated ½ teaspoon chili flakes 2 teaspoons honey juice from 1 lime

[silks-up-my-sleeve]

I feel like there's a bigger reason than the science behind food as to why Jake (and even Sam) loves to cook. It blends two love languages: acts of service and quality time.

You're able to spend hours looking at recipes together, deciding what to add onto the upcoming grocery list. Building menus of meals to have together, as well as cook together. Spending hours in the kitchen together baking bread from the fourth or fifth online recipe you have tried, because he's dedicated himself to making yeast rolls like your grandparents always made.

But food also brings people together. Sitting down and sharing a meal with family is so priceless, even if it's just a simple pasta dish. Gathering around the table together and enjoying the presence of those you love most. Serving your family's favorite meal and watching them light up at just how good it is, not only because it tastes good, but because you made it.

Jake is just someone I associate with being that way

[softquietsteadylove]

Birdie, I've got an idea for Valentine's Day! 🖤✨

Jack is asking his uncle Gilgamesh for an advice for Valentine's Day. So he and Gil are baking heart shaped cookies for their loved ones. On Valentine's Day Jack is giving his cookies to Thena because he loves his aunt very much and Phastos is complaining because he doesn't get a single heart shaped cookie.

Hugs and Love🖤✨

"Did you find out who it is?"

"No," Phastos huffed, watching from around the corner as Jack held up a decorated cookie for Gil to examine and certify. "He won't tell me."

"Perhaps it's best left alone," Ben posited from his chair, much more relaxed than his husband. "If he's not ready to tell us, he's not ready. He is only 11, habibi."

"Exactly, he's just a kid," Phastos hissed back at his partner. He looked back into the kitchen, where Jack was trying to sneak another taste of icing. At least Gil had taken seriously that Jack could not eat that much raw egg safely. He could like the cookie dough spoon, that was it. "He's too young for this."

Ben sighed, shutting his book and standing to join his husband. He slid his hand up his back gently, "well, some humans develop those kinds of feelings early. It's probably just a little crush."

"Little crush my ass," Phastos grumbled in response. He looked at Ben, "he's my kid too, and Eternals love...intensely."

Ben simply nodded, knowing very well that every bond the Eternals had tended to span thousands of years.

"Why are you spying on them?"

"F-!" Phastos sucked his lip between his teeth before he could let out a curse that would rattle even his superpowered glass windows. He glared at his sister, "T, I swear to god, okay?"

"What?" the Warrior Eternal merely blinked at him, still soft around the edges from her nap. She looked into the kitchen as well. "They seem to be enjoying themselves. What is the occasion?"

"Valentine's?" Phastos prompted, only to be met with Thena's 'statue face'. He rolled his eyes, "poor Gil, stuck with you for every damn one of 'em."

Thena pursed her lips at her brother before reaching up and pinching his side. "I will have you know, Gilgamesh prefers to take the lead on such occasions. I participate--that is enough for him."

"I'm sure it is," Ben assuaged, eager to get in between the two immortal beings who bickered like children. "Jack asked Gil for help making the cookies just after you went back to your room."

"Hm," Thena tilted her head at the scene. "Gil often makes something for this day; there is no secret to it."

"Well, this time, there was," Phastos muttered darkly, back to spying. He glared as Jack laughed and Gil patted his shoulder. Phastos turned back to Ben, "he knows I'm his dad, right? We can help him with this stuff!"

"Phastos," his husband chided instead of comforted, back to rubbing his back. "This is what it's like for kids to have uncles and aunts. They get to enjoy their company in a way that's different from ours."

"You go ask," Phastos prompted, shoving Thena away from him and in the direction of the kitchen. She glowered at him for it.

"Ask what?" she seethed at him, raising her fist to punch him in return.

Ben slid in between them again, again trying to mediate their typical family squabbles. "Who the cookies are for. He wouldn't tell when Phastos asked."

"Hm," Thena blinked, but accepted conditions. She turned away from Ben and lowered her fist, "Jack?"

Phastos kissed Ben's temple, "good save."

"Aunt Thena, you're up!" he turned in his chair, getting up on his knees and leaning against the back of it to beam at her. "Did you have a nice sleep?"

"It was lovely," she smiled down at her precious human nephew. She tilted her head, admiring the bounty behind him. "You have been making confections."

"Uncle Gil!"

"It's okay buddy, it wasn't like we were gonna be able to keep 'em secret for long," Gil chuckled as he stood from his chair. He wrapped his arm around Thena's waist, pressing his forehead to hers. "Get some rest?"

"I did," she promised her own partner and husband as he leaned in for a kiss.

"Ahem!!!"

Both Eternals parted, glaring at their agitated brother briefly. Thena looked down at Jack, who was nibbling on his little lip. "Who shall receive your hard work, Jack?"

"Well," the boy fidgeted, his expression shy. His fathers held hands behind his uncle and aunt, but Jack stood from the chair and took Thena's hand. He pulled gently, guiding her to sit where he had been. He turned the plate, on which he had arranged all the heart shaped cookies into one big heart shape. "They're for you, Aunt Thena."

Thena blinked at the platter of cookies. They were all frosted, with varying degrees of colour and skill. They were soft, white sugar cookies with red icing on them. "Me?"

"Of course," Phastos huffed behind them, but was shushed by Ben.

"Valentine's is kinda cringe, but it doesn't have to be for, like, love-stuff," Jack shrugged. "At least that's what they said at school. They said we could do something for our favourite person."

"My own son," Phastos continued to lament.

"So," Jack looked up at Gil, who nodded for him to keep going. "I asked Uncle Gil if he would help me make some cookies for you. But I cracked the eggs perfect! And I decorated all of these ones."

Thena smiled, picking up one of the more grotesque, early experiments. She took a bite, smiling as she chewed the soft, buttery cookie. "They're perfect."

"Really?" Jack lit up.

"Partake in your spoils," she said as she handed him one. "Thank you, Jack. I daresay you are my favourite as well."

"Hey Jack," Phastos inched forward as his son wolfed down one of his own cookies. "Are any of those for your old man, maybe?"

Jack just stared. "You can ask Aunt Thena."

Phastos glared at her , though. "T, remember-"

"Ben may have some."

"Oh, come on!"

Gilgamesh stood aside, laughing at Thena's innate desire to be petty with their brother. He slapped the back of Phastos' shoulder as Ben did sneak in to steal one for himself. "I mean you should've seen that coming, man."

"You guys are married," Jack gesticulated, pointing at the two couples in front of him respectively. "You got each other stuff for today, right? You don't need me to do anything."

Phastos continued to pout about how his own child made his sister cookies but none for him. But Ben smiled, "that's right, we did get each other gifts for today. It was very nice of you to make something for your Aunt Thena, Jack."

Thena moved from the chair to let Jack sit again, "but I shall need help eating all these. Jack, if you would be so kind...?"

"Sure!" It didn't take much to convince him.

Ben led Phastos into the living room to nurse his wounds, while Gil pulled Thena to his side again, further up the table. She sighed as he pressed his lips to her cheek, "is this what you did all afternoon?"

"Yep," Gil whispered. "I think he waited for you to have a nap so he could surprise you."

"It's rather sweet," she smiled at the image of her nephew enjoying a few more cookies. She looked down at this plate, decorated significantly differently. "And these?"

"For you," her lover confirmed, holding one up to display the meticulous design he'd made. "It's Australia!"

It looked like a smear of dirt in a sea of blue.

"Don't worry, I made my own preparations for today," he whispered before nipping at her ear, promising fun more than just some cookies.

"Hm," Thena purred, allowing him to kiss behind her ear and down her neck in their small window of privacy. "You do love this particular occasion."

"Damn right I do," he said against the soft skin of her shoulder, just inside the collar of her dress. "An excuse to lavish my wife with gifts and attention? And make love like wild animals-"

"AHEM!!!"

Gil sighed as he pulled away from her to also glare at Phastos, "what, dude?--don't you also have lavishing to do?"

"Not in the kitchen I don't," Phastos snapped with his hands on his hips. "None of us are having a romantic time until 9 o'clock anyway."

That was Jack's bed time.

"So we're gonna go out for a nice family dinner instead," he declared firmly, as if it were a mission order, and not an invitation to a nice restaurant. He slapped his coat over his arm, "and you two are gonna behave!"

"We always behave," Gil rolled his eyes, following Phastos into the living room and front hall to also retrieve his and Thena's coats.

"Nuh-uh, no, I mean it Gil," Phastos snapped in his brother's face as they both glared at each other amidst helping their partners into their own coats. "No ooey-gooey eyes, no playing footsies under the table, no sneakin' off to the bathroom."

"What if he has to go?" Jack asked much more innocently as he retrieved his own coat. He smiled as Thena held it out for him the same way Gil had done for her.

"That's not-" Phastos sighed, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. "Okay, never mind, family dinner, let's go."

[skeletonpendeja]

Shit I been cooking lately

[in-death-we-fall]

Wham, Glam, Thank You Mam…

Kerrang 910, June 29 2002

The unmasked Joey Jordison’s Murderdolls are not Slipknot Mark II. Can you imagine the Clown wearing make-up and stack-heels?...

Oh Kerrang, we absolutely can... but that's not the point here

Words: Joshua Sindell Photos: P R Brown, Lisa Johnson

(drive link)

In a dimly lit room at the Sunset Marquis hotel, five heavily mascara’d men in black leather, each with immaculately back-combed hair, pose and purse their lips for a photographer’s lens. Only a single white curtain against the window protects their pale skin from the outside sun’s piercing rays. Last night’s expedition to famed strip club Crazy Girls has left some of them feeling bleary and achy, but, as the band Junkyard once sang so sagely, ‘That’s life in Hollywood’. Yes, this is LA, the home of all things tawdry and torrid, where giants in spandex so famously used to stride down the Strip. But this is not 1986. These events are happening in June of 2002. And one of these pouting prima donnas happens to be a member of Slipknot.

Murderdolls are the new baby of Joey Jordison – Slipknot’s diminutive drummer – but in stark contrast to his unrelentingly intense day job, their music is a trashy pastiche of glam-rock, New York punk circa 1977, schlock-horror, and heavy metal. Jordison has swapped his mask for make-up and his sticks for a guitar, and has created a band that embody practically everything you don’t ever hear on the radio these days. Alongside him are Static-X guitarist Tripp Eisen, singer Wednesday 13 who previously fronted the Frankenstein Drag Queens From Planet 13 and two friends of Tripp from LA – bassist Erik Griffin and appropriately-named drummer Ben Graves.

Just one listen to the Murderdolls’ debut album will be enough to have a legion of Slipknot fans chomping on their home-made boiler suits in confusion. Cheesy songs about grave robbing? Tributes to ‘The Exorcist’’s possessed devil-doll Linda Blair? Zombies? Mad scientists? Ghouls? What the hell is going on?

Jordison, barely five-foot-five even in his new stack heels, allows himself a sly smile.

“This is so far removed from Slipknot that it’s actually the best thing about it,” he says. “When we play, it’s just so fucking funny. We’re very serious about not being serious.”

To change gears from the testosterone-filled, uncontrolled anger of ‘Iowa’ to the sexually charged grind of Murderdolls is certainly something of a role-reversal. Butt Tripp Eisen, who, like Jordison, is also on shore leave from his day job, finds the turn-around almost hilarious.

“It’s kind of like being bisexual,” he jokes. “You’re doing a guy for now, but you’re not giving up on the ‘girl’ thing.”

The seeds of this project were sown years ago, in the mind and garage of Joey Jordison, under the name The Rejects. This was long before Slipknot and nu-metal’s all-conquering domination of the rock scene. The Rejects would eventually morph into Murderdolls, and to Joey, this is no mere side-project.

“I just feel that there’s no point in doing anything that’s even remotely similar to Slipknot,” he reasons, seated at a small table inside the cool, dark hotel room. “For me, it’s a chance to play guitar, which I played long before I played drums.”

Murderdolls began to become more than just a figment of Joey’s imagination three years ago when Slipknot toured with New Yorkers Dope, who had Eisen in their line-up at the time. The two bonded over a mutual love of such bands as Manowar, The Ramones and The Plasmatics.

“I had spent my whole life being kind of a glam guy, but also digging the heavy, heavy music,” says Tripp, a soft-spoken man with dreadlocks that sprout from his head like drooping asparagus. “It’s rare to find someone who can relate to both, and that’s what drew me to Joey. He’s into Slayer and Twisted Sister with equal intensity, and there’s not many people like that.”

To Tripp, there’s not all that much difference between the two. Both metal and glam are escapist and theatrical in nature, and he points out that Mötley Crüe and Slayer both used pentagrams on their albums.

Together, during the off time from their respective bands, Joey and Tripp dug up some of Joey’s old Rejects songs and dusted them off. They discovered a voice in North Carolina native Wednesday 13, and he brought several of his own songs with him. Then, after the album was finished, the band’s line-up was completed by Griffin and Graves.

The record itself is an absolute blast. Roaring guitars, skull-rattling drums and sneering, screaming vocals, all set to fast-paced tunes of terror and turmoil. Imagine the Ramones, the Misfits and the Dead Boys wearing long-haired wigs and goofing on love, lust and comic books. Add to the mix a soupçon of Marilyn Manson, plus a few screaming metal electric guitar leads, and stir. What pours out ain’t pretty, but it will certainly raise some eyebrows.

Joey couldn’t be more excited at the prospect of his Slipknot fans lending Murderdolls an ear.

“Not to take anything away from Slipknot, because I love that band and I’m still very much in it. But playing the guitar is not the same as playing the drums. Wearing make-up and trashy clothes is not the same as wearing coveralls and a mask.”

But what is to become of that famed Slipknot ‘mystique’? Won’t it forever be ruined by the fact that Joey is the first of them to go mask-less? Joey downplays the importance of his decision, saying that the internet has basically removed whatever secrecy Slipknot had tried to maintain anyway.

“We meet and talk to the kids without our masks every day,” he points out. He also says that Slipknot’s singer Corey Taylor and guitarist Jim Root will soon be performing sans masks in their own side-project, Stone Sour.

“I’ve said this a million times before, but wearing the masks is what the music ‘made’ us do,” says Joey. “It was not to just hide our faces. After knowing what Kiss looked like without their make-up for so many years, when I went to see them on their reunion tour, I didn’t give a fuck if I knew what they looked like under their make-up. When I saw them in make-up, I said, ‘That’s fuckin’ Kiss’.”

Scheduling the Murderdolls sessions and upcoming tour was never an issue with Slipknot either. All of the nine members decided that their loving maggots could allow them a few months’ rest, and many of them are pursuing solo projects.

“It was a mutual decision,” says Joey, “It wasn’t like we all needed the time away from one another. I told them that I felt that this stuff was worthy of being put out on a record. I think that it’s worthy for people to see it live as well. I’ve been spinning upside-down on a drum riser for the past 10 months, and now I’m going to go jam with this other band for a while, and they were totally cool with that. They knew from the start, even before the first Slipknot record, that I was going to do this, so it was no surprise to them.”

As for the other members, this much is known. Tripp Eisen says he’s still very much a part of Static-X, who are just about ready to wrap up their touring scenario for 2002 and will immediately begin writing their third album. Singer Wednesday 13, recruited to replace Rejects singer Dizzy, is an aficionado of ‘80s glam acts like Pretty Boy Gloyd and Tuff, and claims, quite horrifically, to have the soundtrack albums to every one of Sylvester Stalone’s movies – including ‘Over The Top’ and ‘Rhinestone’. Wednesday, who speaks in a warm southern drawl, plays a big role in the band’s theme and sound. He explains the song ‘Dawn Of The Dead’.

“I’ve always loved that movie,” he says, “and I thought, ‘How great would it be to have a Quiet Riot, ‘Cum On Feel Tha Noize’-type chorus for a song like that?’.” The singer described the sound of Murderdolls as a “Frankenstein monster we stitched together.”

The two newest members are Ben and Erik, friends of Tripp’s from LA. They do not play on the record, and both were struggling musicians who felt left out by the onslaught of post-grunge blandness and down-tuned rap-rock. Secretly, they wished they’d get hired to play just this kind of balls-out rock that just didn’t seem to exist outside of their old CD collections. They were working in shops on trendy Melrose Avenue when Tripp gave them a call.

“Once we all agreed that Nikki Sixx was God, we knew they were the right guys,” observes Wednesday.

Joey is loath to describe the band’s sound as metal or punk, though clearly it has elements of both, as well as some of the more frenzied moments of Marilyn Manson’s catalogue. In particular, ‘Dead In Hollywood’ truly sounds as if the God Of Fuck was somewhere in the mix, lending a helping shout. As it turns out, Joey asked the man himself to contribute, but not on any of the songs that have turned up on the record.

“Marilyn’s a friend of mine and we’ve always helped each other out,” says Joey. “I played some guitar for him and hooked him up with a remix, which he just recently used on the ‘Resident Evil’ soundtrack. He said that he’s going to sing on one of our songs now.” Unfortunately, what with his own deadline looming shortly, Manson’s tracks – either ‘People Hate Me’ or ‘Nineteen Seventy 666’ – may have to wait until after the release of the new Manson disc.

If all this sleaze and disorderly conduct sounds a little backward thinking, it is no accident. Even Trip agrees that the ‘Dolls pay tribute to a bygone time.

“I feel that kids today don’t know about what we grew up on, and I think that we’re trying to bring the whole package to them. The Union Underground and Sinisstar are similar in the respect that they’re bringing trashy rock back, but we just feel like we can do it better.”

Wednesday speaks with an endearing confidence that borders on pride.

“Nobody’s done it to the extent that we will,” he brags. “There were bands like Buckcherry and Beautiful Creatures who were doing the whole Guns N’Roses rock thing, but nobody’s done it at the level that we’re going to.”

Without too much Slipknot business to attend to, aside from the upcoming Reading and Leeds appearances this summer, Joey is clearly basking in his new-found freedom. Returning from the bathroom after applying his make-up, he jokes that posing for photos in Slipknot is so much easier than this current Murderdolls shoot. “You just throw on a mask and make hand gestures!”

Joey says that he’s looking forward to sharing his band with the world, and playing guitar live.

“I think that we’re original, but we’re not trying to reinvent the wheel,” he muses. “I think that in Slipknot, we broke down a lot of doors. I’m very proud of that, and I’m very fulfilled there. This is just another way to keep the glass full.”

Murderdolls release their debut album, ‘Beneath (sic) The Valley Of The Murderdolls’, on August 19 via Roadrunner.

Doll Parts

Joey Jordison’s guide to his new bandmates…

Ben Graves Joey: “Again, Tripp found him. Does he look like Twiggy Ramirez? Absolutely no comment.”

Wednesday 13 Joey: “He and I wrote all the music and the lyrics together. It’s fun when we’re singing about grave robbing. It’s much more tongue-in-cheek than anything Slipknot’s ever done.”

Erik Griffin Joey: “Tripp brought him into the band. I saw a video that Tripp did of them jamming, and he looked right for the band.”

Tripp Eisen Joey: “When we met, we instantly knew that we had the same taste in music. I really love his leads on the album. Live he’s great, and he’s a great friend.”

[misterradio]

people who fight over whether pineapple belongs on pizza or if peas belong on a pizza are weak. and their heads would explode in response to the humble swedish banana curry pizza

[temporarypenintraining]

found out that in the japanese dub of Veggietales, Larry has the same VA as L from Death Note. I will not be using this information wisely.

[millennialgrandma]

i'm gonna level with you guys, just about anything can pizza if you're brave enough

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Rumpleteazer was in gargantuan, absolutely no good trouble, as per usual, but - also as per usual - she had a plan to get out of it. Or half of a plan, anyway.

It was simple, really - all she had to do was catch Skimbleshanks before he had a chance to hear the business from anyone else, and she'd be able to use her incredible powers of obfuscation and persuasion to convince him that it wasn't her fault, and she'd been home the entire time, and that they actually had the wrong cat entirely, funny enough, and…and…

If she hurried, she would definitely maybe manage to at least avoid a complete, catastrophic meltdown. Word travelled so quickly on this side of town that it wasn’t uncommon for her to find her father already tapping his heel and waiting for an explanation before she even had a chance to slip through the cat door. Rumpleteazer found herself begrudgingly amazed at how often he could just tell something had gone awry before she'd even had a chance to process it. Alas, those sorts of powers of deduction were - frankly, if you asked her - wasted on such tightly wound a clock as her father.

Skimbleshanks’ little nook wasn’t too far from where Rumpleteazer was, and the streets were clearing out for the evening, so there wasn’t a lot of foot traffic and the paths were open - no suspicion or interruption of a cute little cat making her big old dangerous way in the dark. Plus, she knew at least three shortcuts thanks to Mungojerrie; all she had to do was run as fast as kittycat possible and she’d make perfect time, and perhaps avoid that snap of the overwound spring she was bound to run into if she was a second too late. 

Mungojerrie himself had already bolted to his mothers before the you-know-what had even hit the fan, looking as though the blood had collectively drained from his body all at once. And, really, she couldn’t blame him for that. Skimbleshanks may have had a few too many cows for a cat his size, but he could occasionally (occasionally) be reasonable if she really pushed for it.  Jennyanydots was fit to have the entire barn when she found out; maybe the coop alongside it if Jerrie didn’t get to her first to cushion the blow. Best to smooth that out as soon as possible; that in mind, she wasn't too sore that she'd been left a few extra moments in the hole of their own making, a hair shy from the flood light's accusing glow. Gave her time to think.

A couple extra seconds could really be worth the world in their line of...work.

Speaking of getting to something first, she had made it just around the last corner to her destination. Rumpleteazer clucked, pleased with the realization. When she'd been a much younger kitten, the distance to her father had always seemed like such an insurmountable thing (even moreso when he was gone, leaving her with whomever was available to look after her). Her first independent walks back and forth had stretched on what seemed like forever, Teazer looping her tail in a plea for the sunset to stretch on just a few minutes longer - to ward off the darkness for just one more corner - just so she could see the street until she found her way home again (she wasn't afraid of the dark, no sir). It never worked, unfortunately for her, but she kept stubbornly on - just as was in her blood. And, no matter how long it was, that stubbornness always ended with the same figure of a tom waiting for her (and how he'd always managed to be there around his schedule was no short of a wonder), outlined in golden light, ushering her inside. "That's my girl," he'd murmur, proud and warm. "Well done."

The traitorous little voice inside of her wondered when the last time he'd said that to her was.

As she'd gotten a bit older, the physical distance shrunk exponentially (because she'd grown bigger, duh), but she'd noticed that the abstract distance between the two of them seemed to be steadily growing in its place. Funny, since she'd once thought her da would likely never stop his constant hovering over her shoulder to ensure her safety, or fretting over where she'd head off to and who'd she be heading off with, or ticking through that never-ending laundry list of questions he carried around with him at all times. If he had his way, Rumpleteazer was half convinced he would be having her fill out timesheets and incident reports; or at least still carrying her around by the scruff of her neck so she wouldn't wander too far from him.

Maybe the distance was a teeny bit her fault - but when she'd snapped at him to leave her alone, that she was too big now for coddling, she hadn't really expected him to actually…leave her alone.

Though, she supposed, Skimbleshanks was nothing if not a cat of his word. Perhaps she should have seen it coming.

But now was not the time for melancholy paw wringing and "woe is me"ing - that was for later, when her tail wasn't on the chopping block.

Quickly, she adjusted her collar and tore the pearls from her neck (those'd prompt too many "My, my, where ever did you find those?"s that she did not have time for), stashing them beneath the decorative station bushes with a mournful promise to return to them later, should they not catch the eye of a sticky feathered bird. She licked her paws and smoothed her fur and whiskers as best she could without a reflection, sighing hard so her voice wouldn't sound like she'd been running several blocks. A couple of false starts later, and her shoulders were properly squared and her rehearsed excuse (and a backup) sat just on the tip of her tongue. All the more picture of a proper queen was she. Presentation was half the battle, Mungojerrie would say, and her da did appreciate propriety. 

With a final deep breath, she slipped through the hidden entrance, mouth already half open with her explanation -

"Dad!" the familiar voice of Tumblebrutus suddenly whined (that one was always whining, it seemed), freezing Rumpleteazer in her tracks. 

For Cat's sake; she'd neglected to consider the other half of her family's presence in her grand master plan. Whole new audience meant the previous strategy and backups was effectively useless. Some mastermind she was. Didn't even account for the possibility it'd be the other one.

It’s not like she spent most of her time around Skimbleshanks’ cubby anymore anyway; she was a big queen with her own places to go most evenings and her very own pet's house - there wasn't much need. And in her defense to the court, it was a relatively new development. The two of them being around these parts all the time, anyway.

Asparagus had been around them since before she could even remember, just on the blurry outskirts of her vision. From everything she could recollect, he'd always been nice to her, and shown her new things, even when she made the little vein at his temple pulse and "wore his nerves to the threads"; and, perhaps more important than that, he'd seemed to make her father happy, which was good enough for her to justify his presence. If she thought hard enough, Rumpleteazer very vaguely recalled sitting up on his back, waving eagerly at the trains coming in, being held very gingerly by the scruff of her neck so she wouldn't fall. That's da! she'd insist at every one, to which he would pointedly remind her about reading her numbers.

She would demand everyone who watched her to take her down to that station in the morning, come to think of it, at least until she decidedly grew out of it. But it seemed most often it would be him and her on that stoop, waiting, Asparagus glaring rather pointedly at the gaggle of humans that were always there as well should they circle too close to her vicinity and plucking her neatly from tumbling down the storm drain. It was consistently enough that she remembered it, anyway.

The gremlin, however, was new and not as welcome. He came along with the package later down the line, like a stubborn security tag on a pair of dangly earrings (and Teazer did so love her dangly earrings). She very easily could have gone the rest of her life without that one.

She scrambled quietly back against the wall.

Asparagus was lounging nearest the back corner to the right, with said little gremlin stretched between his forepaws, begrudgingly submitting to his father's ministrations. If she stayed just under the shadow of the overhang, they likely wouldn't be able to see her from this angle. She thought, anyway.

"I'm too old for a bath," she heard her brother mutter as he continued to squirm, sending his little shadow dancing against the wall.

"Last time I checked, you don't grow out of baths," Asparagus retorted. "Especially when you won't do it yourself. Now hold still."

Plans dashed, but potential confrontation delayed (and looking to completely avoid the issue), Rumpleteazer considered turning right back around and leaving. Couldn't miss what was never there; she could act like she'd been out all night (which she figured would mean less disappointment) and rush off to catch Skimbleshanks somewhere else. She had all but had her two front paws back through the door when her father chanced a look up from what he was doing (or perhaps chanced a look up to avoid being elbowed in the nose, who could say?).

"Rumpleteazer? Is that you?" Asparagus called. He sounded surprised to see her (which was a testament she really didn't feel like unpacking at the moment). Said queen, frozen in place at having been caught, slowly turned to face him, mind already clicking away on a new course of action as she plastered a fake smile from ear to ear.

"Hey, Rags," she chirped nervously, clutching her paws behind her back.

Asparagus' answering smile was somewhat bewildered. "Welcome back. We weren't expecting you to visit for a while y - oh, no you don't!" He held fast to Tumble who attempted to crawl away at the distraction. The tomkit pouted, glaring daggers up at her.

"Yeah, well…well y'know..." Teazer trailed off,  struggling to keep her tail from twitching. Really selling her case - she was losing time. "Where's da?"

Asparagus tilted his head. "You just missed him, I'm afraid. He's gone for the evening."

Shit.

"I beg your pardon?"

Rumpleteazer snapped her jaw shut, wholly unaware she’d spoken out loud. Tumblebrutus snickered, mouthing the word under his whiskers, and Asparagus frowned - all in rapid, disappointing succession. 

None of this was going even remotely to plan.  

"Perhaps you're lucky your da isn't home," Asparagus deadpanned, tugging lightly on Tumblebrutus' ear as a warning, who yelped and grabbed it back from him.  Serves him right. "I'm sure he'd have something to say about your mouths."

"Sorry," they muttered in unison. As it was, the only thing they consistently managed to agree on.

Asparagus observed the queen's face, noting her posture. "Are you alright? Did something happen?" Not what have you done, now?, mind you, did something happen? Rumpleteazer was unsure if he was giving her an out or was genuinely concerned.

As it was, her rapid fire mind had settled to a sudden, shameful lull at the scolding (and the smallest modicum of guilt), leaving her briefly and dangerously exposed. "Yes."

"'Yes' something happened?"

"No!" she chirped immediately, snapping her head back up, refusing to be caught in the familiar verbal roundabout that would get her admitting to things. Asparagus may be clever - too clever sometimes- but he was no match for the sheer force of will she was willing to exude to escape the figurative fisherman's net. She didn't have a lot of time. "Nothing happened. Yes, I'm fine."

Asparagus slowly blinked at her, looking not at all convinced, but seemingly weighing out the consequences of calling her out on her lie. A tense moment passed, before he settled on a new approach.

"You know, Teazer, you can tell me whatever it is. I'm sure we can figure it out." He pointedly left off the generous offer that it would be their secret, like he would when she was very little and he somehow managed to make things disappear under the rug with a wink and a smile, but Teazer still heard its tail ends. Asparagus had always been good that way, so long as whatever it was wasn't...well, fully illegal.

...And she'd helped clean it up, whatever it was. He wasn't a complete pushover.

Still, something about disappointing both of the toms she considered her parents in the same evening didn't exactly sound like a thrilling prospect; one at a time.

"It's nothing - honest, it's nothing," she insisted, bouncing on her heels, suddenly uncomfortable and wishing she just...hadn't come at all. It was too much all at once. "I just wanted to talk to da."

Asparagus gave her a sympathetic look, though it looked to be a second thought covering whatever first came to mind (she could guess well enough what it was). "Miss him, do you?"

Tumblebrutus rubbed absently at his ears, turning to gauge her reaction to that. Now both toms were staring at her with matching, window pale eyes. It would be a little creepy, if you asked her, were she not so familiar with it.

Rumpleteazer pressed her muzzle in a thin, firm smile. That wasn't...exactly the sentiment, but it hit very firmly just beneath her breast anyway. No, that wasn't it at all. She'd needed to catch up to him to plead her case, that was all. She wasn't a kitten running to her parent when trouble hit - she was a grown queen on a mission to avoid the consequences of her actions and that particularly guilt inducing look he'd always give her when she'd really done it that time.

And, funny enough, the only thing that kept passing her mind was how he hadn't even said goodbye - that she hadn't even been around to hear one.

Asparagus sighed, long and loud, bringing Rumpleteazer violently back to the present. He looked withdrawn; if she could say nothing else of him, he knew when to pick his battles. "He should be back tomorrow morning."

"Yeah...yeah, okay," she muttered, backing up a pace. Something unpleasant was bubbling under her skin and every instinct was pushing her to run off

Just like always.

"Why don't you stay?" Asparagus asked hastily, eying how she continued inching away. "Let me just finish up here, and we can eat - I'm sure you're hungry, aren't you?"

And, in reality, Rumpleteazer was hungry. She couldn't remember if she'd eaten that day - she and Jerrie had been working on their plan for the better part of three days, and sometimes trivial things like eating would completely slip her mind. Really, there was no harm at all in staying the evening and eating and waiting for her father with the rest of her family. It might even be a nice change of pace, like it was before, and not like there was much to be done. But Rumpleteazer's brain was itching inside of her skull; she had to leave so she could fix everything. That was best for everyone.

"No, no that's alright, dad." She noted the slight jump in expression, just as she thought the name would invoke. It had been a more common utterance when she was a kitten - and, for the life of her, she can't recall why she'd stopped.

"I'll be back, though, I promise!" Rumpleteazer continued in a rush, as though keeping ahead of her thoughts, drowning them out, would strangle the persistent melancholy that threatened to take hold. She darted her gaze away so she wouldn't catch any disappointment. Even Tumblebrutus looked...well about as concerned as he was wont to be towards her. "Maybe next weekend?"

"Very well," Asparagus said eventually, looking...not hurt, she didn't think, but something in the same vicinity. "I'll let your father know."

"Thanks." She wiggled her way out the door, pausing only a moment to glance back. "I'll...I'll see you later. Goodnight!"

Rumpleteazer was out the door and down the street before she'd realized there'd been no goodnight in return, and she'd left her pearls tangled sadly in the bushes.

---

Asparagus continued to stare at the doorflap, watching the last flick of Rumpleteazer's tail disappear as it swung back and forth. He heaved a sigh, feeling a sudden pressure deep in his chest that he couldn't quite place.

"She's in big trouble," the tom kitten observed from beneath his chin, staring after where his sister had bustled off. There was a certain smugness in the announcement, but Asparagus could hear the beginning shades of begrudging awe and admiration in his tone. Not exactly a thrilling prospect of influence, but at least it suggested...some sort of fondness on his behalf.

"Mm hmm," he agreed, finally letting the tomkitten free from his grasp. He wasn't finished, but the chances of him ever finishing had set sail the moment it'd been interrupted. No matter; he was mostly clean, anyway, and Asparagus felt...trouble settling heavily in his stomach. Tumblebrutus took full advantage, scrambling up and away, leaning over to peer back at his father upside down.

"Is she going to be grounded?" he asked innocently. Asparagus wished it were that simple.

“Depends,” he murmured, feeling - he thought - how it must feel to be heading very quickly towards a wall without being able to stop. There was something on the horizon, he could feel it, he just couldn't put his paw exactly on what. "We'll wait until your father comes home. See what he has to say about it."

Asparagus hoped he had something to say about it - anything at all, at this point.

[duckapus]

So because I made an evil clone of Larryboy I have to get the genuine article involved in the story, otherwise what's the point?

How that'll work is that before Worm goes after Blotch, he first abducts the Moderators assigned to the Veggietales MMO server so that their Admin will be too busy looking for them and covering their workload to notice what's going on just beneath the surface. However, what he didn't count on is that this particular Admin is slightly more hands-on than most. It's not to anywhere near the level of our main Admin group, but they have made themselves known to the leaders and/or defenders of each "story" of the game so they can coordinate and maintain the peace, though the general populace is still unaware of Admins and the overall multiverse.

This means that Larryboy and Alfred are aware of the missing Moderators and actively looking for them, as well as investigating sightings of a Larryboy lookalike who's been causing trouble since just before their disappearance (you know who). This leads them to a hidden entrance into the past iterations of the server, which was created by Worm to gain easier, less detectable access to the surface level. Larryboy descends into the depths and eventually drops right into the main plot.

[limitlessscion]

Minato District, 3:45am

" You're late." He had one of his people intercept the window's signal to buy himself some time, but it would seem every one of those incidental meet-ups held another advancement to Satoru's ever-expanding arsenal. Still, it had sufficed to have Suguru arrive first, this time. Well, between the two of them, at least.

The pile of men around his zori, freshly bruised and quivering like fish on the market stands, were identifiable members of a sorcerer clan. And given the hype around this curse, this could have easily been a foolish set up for the Holy Grail that had become of that bounty. The chain is still spinning in his grip when Suguru spits out someone's ear and kicks the last guy pleading with him, before slipping the weapon back into the spirit's mouth. Even without six eyes one could see the exact moment a horrible thought gleamed in his violets.

" I have to admit, though, the decoy spirit they used to lure you in was not worth the hassle. " Fingers splay before the inventory's mouth, until Playful Cloud settles in his grip. Suguru smirks, grumbling the words. " I'll have to find another way to get off. " He doesn't wait for a response before pouncing — a damned man throwing himself into the abyss, no doubt.

Satoru seemed entirely unbothered by the pile of corpses and corpses-to-be, giving only a brief moment to understand the situation before moving on. People foolish enough to try and take him down were a rare breed, but they did crop up from time to time; he'd already had his suspicions from how odd all the info was. They weren't of interest to him now beyond the fact that none of them were likely to survive the night.

There was always a point when Suguru killed, and something about that was starting to piss him off. Of fucking course Suguru was still protecting him even as he seemed to keep denying Satoru's right to do the same in return.

"You really like making my life difficult, don't you?" Long pale fingers reached under the wrappings around his face, pulling them free to settle in a halo around his shoulders. His uncovered eyes flashed with the bright blue telltales of his technique as his one and only friend lunged at him.

Fine then. If Suguru was going to act the petulant child, then for once Satoru was going to show him some damn consequences.

Satoru blocked the first few hits with ease, sparks flying against infinity as he tested the weight of the blows. He could sense no killing intent —of course there wasn't— but that didn't mean the attacks were being held back either, both sides fully confident that the Strongest Sorcerer simply could not be hit. Playful Cloud amplified raw strength as much as it was amplified in turn, a potent tool in the hands of one as skilled in hand-to-hand as Suguru Geto, the force of even off-hits easily capable of crushing a regular human.

That's all he needed to know.

Satoru made a reckless move, right hand darted in between the flying segments of the weapon to grip his opponent's wrist, immediately locking down tight with cursed energy. It was with the sheer arrogance of one who could not be hit, unbothered by the fact he'd tangled himself and left a large opening that one could never hope to defend conventionally.

Infinity melts away.

Intense blue eyes faded to a dull grey tone at the last fraction of a second and he fixed their gaze together, waiting for the instant of understanding. He needs Suguru to see and feel this, to understand what the fuck he was actually doing.

He doesn't even defend with cursed energy. The cursed tool slams through mortal flesh and bone with such sudden violence that it was like a popping balloon, the damage instantaneous. His iron grip on Suguru's wrist kept him from being blown away, that arm protected and strengthened a second later to keep that connection between them.

The pulp and handful of bone shards that used to be ribs and muscles and lungs and heart became an oozing lump contained only by the ragged cloth of his jacket.

His gaze was still fixated on Suguru's, a feral grin on his face, eyes flaring with the pain, still clear and focused. His whole body sagged at the lost of support, held up only by his continued grip on the other.

The physical agony was nothing, just a mere sliver of what had been inflicted up on him that day in Shinjuku with nothing but words. The endless loneliness. The demands that he kill someone whom he could not kill. Being left behind. The mornings he'd wake up with tears staining his face as dreams of happiness faded away. Suguru just endlessly trying to fuck it up even more.

If Suguru was here to vent his grievances then Satoru would do the same: look at me. I want you to know how much it fucking hurts. I don't need you to regret or apologize, but I need you to understand.

A few seconds or an eternity later, blood started spurting through the remains of his clothes; his heart repaired from a lump of flesh jelly, a single beat drenching Suguru in fresh warm crimson before skin sealed back up. A mere second later his lost arm regrew. Then he was whole again, no sign of the gruesome injuries beyond the bloody mess that was smeared over them both. He'd made one point and now he made his second: Suguru was out of his league in this farcical conflict of theirs.

He spat the gore still stuck in his airways onto the ground between them, eyes still never leaving the other as he finally released his friend.

"Give up Suguru. Go home."

[shatterthefragments]

With the shittiest filleting I’ve ever done I made salmon with asparagus and hollandaise (I’m going to wait until dad’s not sick and has more of an appetite again before making lemon caper sauce salmon) and it’s really good :) (even though I left the salmon in the oven for longer bc I was still needing to whisk the hollandaise)

I got the brown free range eggs (still on sale thankfully) specifically to make hollandaise with 😌

Now to. Devour the flesh that remains on the bones (mum will Eviscerate the poor fish to make sure there are no bones so this part’s for me!) (the plate shown is mum’s bc she’s still on the phone and I’m nearly finished my plate portion)

Ah yes and now that I have a bunch of egg whites (and some uh. Mixed egg oops. I’ll probably try to make meringues or marshmallows or something?)