#a Junkyard’s trash heap

[theworld-accordingtocasey]

Walgreen’s website makes my blood pressure skyrocket. Some days it feels nearly impossible to navigate. The only other website* that can or has ever in recent memory rivaled Walgreen’s clunky ass, is fucking Petsmart. It feels like I’m using dial up on a computer made by a raccoon with parts he got from the city’s junkyard’s “unusable parts” heap

[vampirezogar]

something about towering heaps of junk and scrap metal... being surrounded by dereliction, rust, and maybe an angry bulldog... big machinery with claws and high powered electromagnets sifting through debris like some kind of dinosaur...

This is a texture or perhaps flavor that I have always liked, but have rarely done anything with. I fkn should tho! LOOK.

THESE IMAGES ARE FOR TO EAT!

[seat-safety-switch]

Many argue that the strength of Western civilization is its strong historical bedrock of legal practices, verified knowledge, and careful study. Others will say that it's ambition, rule-breaking, and adventure that drive success. I disagree with both sides, which proves I am the most intelligent of all. What makes Western civilization great is junkyards.

Sure, other countries have junkyards. Some of them are really great: China has vast miles of industrial refuse, enough that you could build projects for a million lifetimes. The Dutch have charming feral populations that live within their abandoned DAFs. However, I can’t walk to any of those countries when my shitbox Dodge throws a rod, which is what makes our local ones the best in all the lands.

Here, too, is the essential tension. All the scums who want you to buy new cars live here, or at least their rich failchildren do, and they would really rather prefer you stop pulling random components out of the trash heap and slapping them into the vague configuration of an automobile. Otherwise, they can’t afford their own space station. New Zealand? They don’t have a car industry at all. If you want to make a car out of papier maché there, there’s no industry fat cat to call his golf buddy and make some unjust, arbitrary horseshit like “should probably have a windshield” the law of the land. Some of the fun in thumbing your nose at The Man is gone.

That’s why I’m really patriotic about our shitty yards full of garbage that cost you a few bucks to roll around in cancer mud. However, like any true patriot, I acknowledge that our system isn’t perfect. It has room for improvement. And if the small island nation of Japan is willing to pony up a couple bucks for a plane ticket, I am perfectly willing to visit all of their junkyards on a fact-finding mission to figure out if any of them contain an axle for a 1980 Plymouth Sapporo. Call it my little contribution to world peace.

[sunderingstars]

simulated universe addendum: ace trash digger

— i can’t believe i came across this occurrence literally the day after i posted my simulated universe analysis (talk about timing), so here’s me yapping about it!

— written during 2.6

— word count: short, list format

not only is this occurrence in every single simulated universe update (wow!) but it seems to be a more belobog-connected piece of potential sampo material!

— “he” pronouns. matches with sampo koski as we know him.

— he’s carrying a trashcan and the name of the occurence is “ace trash digger.” this is a pretty easy link to belobog since that’s the planet that has the most trashcan-related shenanigans. also, since he’s carrying it i can almost see the trashcan as symbolic of belobog itself — i.e. sampo and his little garbage planet he cares about and likes to carry around.

— “treasured trashcan.” once again, i can pretty easily see the trashcan as belobog, so the occurrence might actually be referencing sampo and his “treasured jarilo-vi.”

— he has a collection of “pitiful love poems.” this could connect to sampo’s theme of love, particularly broken hearts, as seen in things like his e4 and heart-bomb burst. these love poems may be written to aha as part of some lingering attachment, or may also be written towards belobog itself since he seems to care about the place so much.

— “put your waste in it, and the items will evolve into an advanced awareness, then come running out energetically on their own!” if the trashcan is symbolic of belobog and the person is supposed to be sampo, i would take a doll theory reading on this. with how much doll theory relies on the “betrayal” of a creator towards its creation, i almost see this as meta commentary on how aha may have betrayed or “discarded” sampo.

— it makes sense, after all, that aha would get bored with their creations quite easily (at least given the whole worm debacle), and what else to do than to discard it? it may be that sampo was not always like this, but evolved to become more “aware” after being abandoned on jarilo-vi, which aha may have seen as just some backwater junkyard snow planet.

— (honestly, the idea of jarilo-vi being seen as a cosmic junkyard is so funny to me. like, aha basically did the equivalent of driving their pickup truck to the scrap heap at the edge of town and tossing everything in. very mundane to them, totally traumatizing to sampo.)

— from there, i would interpret this occurrence as saying sampo slowly rejoined the wider universe — i.e. “running out energetically” on his own. this likely included becoming part of the masked fools or trying to re-contact aha. (alternatively, this could be what is going on currently in canon, with belobog and, by extension, sampo, becoming more present on the galactic stage.) this may have actually surprised the aeon themself (if they even cared anymore), as it would essentially be the equivalent of throwing out a stuffed animal halfway across town, only for it to get up, walk, and find its way back to your house weeks later talking like “why have you forsaken me, father?”. this may even be how sampo became an emanator — aha may have found the whole situation so hilarious they decided to promote sampo on the spot.

— overall, if the trashcan is meant to be belobog and sampo is meant to be the waste (like “hazardous waste” in the friendship is magic event), then this occurrence may be hinting at sampo’s backstory of being discarded by aha on jarilo-vi.

— hunt option (swarm disaster). mean, why are we being so mean?! i would never steal from sampo, i’m simply built different.

— remembrance option (swarm disaster). “you recall the past lives of these discarded objects” implies a sort of sentience and agency. even though the objects may not be at “advanced awareness” yet, they clearly still have past experiences and lives. comparatively, i would say this may mean that sampo, although only recently evolving into a unique kind of sentience, has always been “alive.” for me, i see this as gaining personhood, or perhaps new perspectives on life. he may have started as a toy with no real agency of his own, but he’s been able to find some sort of autonomy for himself on belobog, even being able to reach beyond the love and find the “hate” for a creator who treated him cruelly.

— erudition option (gold and gears). erudition once again! man, erudition and elation love going hand-in-hand. “even trash has its unique ‘value’” seems to send a deeper, general message. not only is it the erudition doing what the erudition tends to do when confronted with something new — find its value, either through experimentation or dismantling — but it communicates the idea that even though something may be seen as worthless or forgotten, it still holds purpose. even though sampo may be seen in the eyes of his creator as a “discarded doll,” he still has value. he’s still a person. he still has his own hopes, thoughts, and dreams. although the erudition likely means this phrase in a more troublesome “let’s take him apart to see what he’s made of” way, a nice message can still be gleaned.

— normal option. as with all other options, there’s a big theme of “transaction,” or exchanging items for more. i don’t have a lot to say about it, other than it fits right in with sampo’s con-man trade and propensity for bargaining.

— i found it a bit surprising at first that there was no elation option, given how that would’ve been a more solid link to sampo, but perhaps there isn’t supposed to be. perhaps, aha stuffed toy having an elation option is meant to be symbolic of a time aha cared enough to turn their gaze of sampo, but here the occurrence is dealing with the period of and after his abandonment. in this case, there may be no elation option because aha quite simply does not care enough for there to be one. he’s all alone. sad :((

overall, i can’t believe this one almost slipped under my nose while doing my simulated universe analysis! the irony is not lost on me that i almost passed over it in a similar way to others in-universe; i guess the “cosmic junkyard” planet really did its job !! i think this has some nice little tidbits for the potential timeline of doll theory, and gives some insight into what sampo’s “betrayal” might have been! (also, of course aha would do something like this. of course lol)

thanks for reading!

© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#27: To Replace The One You Lost (S7E10)

Ok the Richonne content in 7.10 was a feast. I loved every moment Rick and Michonne were on screen together. So honestly, this #27 spot can kinda go to all their moments in the ep, but if I have to single out one…it’s gotta be the cat moment. 😍 It’s a great 'anniversary' gift after going canon in 6.10 and meaningful in so many ways...

(Side note: seeing Jadis again in this 7.10 ep 😒…I very much hope Jadis and Michonne’s katana have a reunion in TOWL. Especially because I've always believed that Jadis saving Rick in 9.05 was just a secondary outcome of Jadis saving Jadis. She needed someone to give the CRM and it worked out for her to give them Rick. Had that helicopter demanded she be alone for the pick-up, Jadis' track record shows she would have acted in self-interest and left Rick behind.

And for Rick, I believe he'd feel that cruelly keeping him from his family for years is worse than leaving him to die by that river - so this one time, plz let Richonne's wrath prevail over their mercy whenever they confront Rick's captor Jadis) 

First, I adore Rick and Michonne's adorable hug after making a deal. I love how they get wrapped up in each other and seeing both their smiles. 🥰 Being in each other's arms is where they’re most meant to be, I’m just saying. 

And then to make the hug even better, Rick kisses Michonne's forehead and it’s just the sweetest. I love how they stay in the embrace as they walk off too. Before they leave the frame, you can visibly see Michonne's relief that her man made it out of this wild day, even if not completely unscathed. And it'll always be a nice touch that Rick is still so thoughtful to embrace Michonne without getting his bloodied hand on her.

And then there’s the cat sculpture. 🤩

I will forever love how despite all the eventful stuff of the day, Rick still had the mindset to notice that cat in the junkyard and recall the rainbow cat from season 3, and want to gift this sculpture to Michonne. 

So Rick and Michonne are standing by the trunk of the car - which reminds me of another scene by a trunk in Clear (that will certainly show up on this Top 30 list 😊) And their Richonne tones are so sweet as they lay out their plan together. Rick is so refreshingly hopeful saying how he doesn’t know where they’ll find guns but "that’s never stopped us before." And Michonne’s smile when he says that is precious. 

And it hit me that while there’s a general sense of how things have never stopped them before, it also could be a specific reference to Clear because back then they were similarly going out to look for guns and then there weren’t any at the station like they hoped but that didn't stop them because they still managed to find a ton when discovering Morgan’s arsenal. While that might be a more subtle Clear reference, the next cat reference is very clear. 

Rosita wants to go already but Rick says hold on and jogs over to the cat sculpture even despite his injury. As I’ve noted before, I’ll forever love this man turning the trash heap into Pottery Barn for his woman. The way Rick's romantic heart continuously courts her is perfection and I love that getting things for her and putting a smile on her face is always a priority. The cute way he walks over too - I know Michonne was appreciating that walk. 😋 

I love the way he hands it to her and how she asks, "why are you…?" in an amused smitten way. And I just noticed that Rick has this little laugh when Michonne asks this. He’s so happy, and it’s sweet how often Rick's happiness is Michonne-related throughout the series. 

It’s already so nice that Rick says he’s giving this to her "because we won." Like what a man to be like I don’t even want to leave this place before celebrating this win with my wife. And again, I have always felt that it’s the "we" moreso than the "won" that really has him on a high because they really defeated that Winslow walker as a team. 

And then because they always top themselves, Rick takes this to maximum heights of perfection when he says, "and to replace the one you lost."

It's just beyond meaningful. I love that he and Michonne are sentimental people and that he reveals that he remembers that rainbow cat from such a foundational time in the building of Richonne. Clear is so special to me so I love that it was referenced and that that time is clearly special to them too. 

Again, think about how much craziness they’ve gone through since Michonne took that 'too damn gorgeous' cat home back then, and yet it's still stored in Rick's memory. I love that this was written to imply Rick still remembers it. The rainbow cat had to do with her so it’s unforgettable.

And also just the line "to replace the one you lost" is powerful because those two lost so much but truly in finding each other Rick and Michonne replenished so much too.

Rick is man of the year every year to me. And I love that he says this knowing he just made his wife's day. It’s his proudest accomplishment of the day. 😊 And Michonne’s sweet little smile as she holds the cat statue is just heart-melting. I absolutely love seeing Michonne be loved on and courted and valued, and Rick is so good at doing that.

They’re both so good at loving each other cuz it’s what they’re made to do. And it’s great she gets this confirmation that she’s been important to Rick for a long time. Rick stays telling on himself, and I'm here for it.

I also love how content Rick is when he says, "let’s go" to the group before they leave the junkyard. Like only after this w with Michonne and most of all putting a smile on her face, that’s when Rick's officially like alright now we’ve done all the things we need to do. 😌

For Rick, this was an apocalyptic date basically. Like first a little wild walker game and then winning a carnival prize for his girl. I adore that it is that man’s mission to give Michonne whatever she likes and just restore anything she’s lost.

This cat moment is one of the sweetest and most couply moments between them, and I will forever be touched by it. All throughout this ep, it was so evident that a husband and wife were up in this place.

Rick and Michonne are so proud and honored to be together, and I appreciate that they expressed gratitude, adoration, and care for each other every chance they got. 😊

[starryinkart]

Can I get more information about AJ she looks so cool, and I would love to get to know her more before the comic

[CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY]

Oh yeah definitely!

> AJ’s name is ASTRA! Is it her full name, guess you’ll have to wait and see…?

> She is 15 years old as of the comic!

> She has two older sisters named Cassie (short for Cassiopeia) and Eris!

> All three daughters were once children of a JCJENSON Scientist and a JCJENSON Technician, until their father mysteriously disappeared and their mother went after him, disappearing as well. This left the sisters to fend for themselves.

> Astra hasn’t seen her sisters since she was young, about 7/8 and has been raised by AI and been around robots for most of her life…that she remembers.

> Astra is closer to robots than humans, and loves to be around them, meaning she doesn’t trust humans as much.

> She lives in the Junkyard of Jericho, a dark and dirty place filled with thieves, criminals, the less fortunate and vulnerable of the planet. It is filled with trash that the higher ups of society, usually high ranked officials of JCJENSON, who live in air purified domes above the Junkyard Wastelands throw down to the surface of the planet. Somehow, she was skilled enough to make the center of a trash heap her home!

> Astra is very intelligent and sly making her own traps and using her plans/schemes to steal from others to survive. She also barters with gangs in the Junkyard, them being “friendly” with her due to her older sister Eris’s previous participation in their ranks.

> Jericho isn’t the planet her and her family were born on!

> She’s VERY different from her sisters and JCJENSON has always had their eyes on her for…some reason…?

Hope that suffices until the first couple of comic pages release!!

[acceleracers-baby]

The Metal Maniacs & Their Dog.

I might expound on this more later, but I just had a thought. What if one day while the Metal Maniacs were searching the junkyard for parts, they found a dog amongst the piles of “trash?”

———

Stray

Monkey was on his third set of bumpers this month. He had the worst luck when it came to his car. Usually, after a fender bender, he’d reshape the metal to the frame and call it a day, but lately the damage had been so bad that he couldn’t just brush it off as ‘adding character.’

That’s why he was at the junkyard. Well… that and Porkchop had been pestering him about getting some spare spark plugs for Old Smokey.

He was about elbow deep in a pile of trashed parts when he felt something poke at his back. He’d been tossing things behind him to make more room for his digging, so at first he thought it was something that had just slid back down the pile. But then it happened again…and again.

With a sigh, Monkey pulled his arms out from the pile and turned around to see who was bothering him. The who actually turned out to be a rather large and mangy looking dog. A Rottweiler with no tags and a comically large piece of metal hanging out of his mouth. Big enough to be Monkey’s new bumper actually.

The mechanic brushed his hands off on his shirt, which was also covered in grime from digging through heaps of garbage for the last two hours, and kneeled down next to the dog.

“Uh…nice dog?” Monkey called to it, uneasiness clear in his voice as he beckoned the mutt closer. “…drop it?” Another less than confident command, but the dog followed it without hesitation, barking in satisfaction as it did.

Monkey carefully picked up the near perfect bumper and walked it over to his car. The replacement bumper had been the last thing he’d been looking for so all he needed to do now was load up his finds and leave. There was only one problem. When Monkey popped his trunk and tossed the bumper in, the dog followed it.

“Hey!” Monkey exclaimed. “Get out!”

The dog did not. Instead, he paced around for a second or two, before plopping down and resting his head on the bumper. He did not seem interested in leaving. Not even when Money tried to coax him out with some left over chicken bones he’d had from lunch.

For a while, Monkey stared at the open trunk with the dog lying happily inside. With a groan, he reached up and closed the hatch and walked around to the drivers side door.

“Tork’s gonna kill me. How am I going to explain this? Hey guys- this dog brought me a bumper and then wouldn’t leave me alone, so let’s give a warm welcome to the newest member of the Metal Maniacs??” Monkey was grumbling. He did that when he was nervous. He didn’t stop grumbling until he reached the garage where the Maniacs hung out. Of course, everyone was there when he pulled up.

As soon as he popped the trunk, the dog came happily bounding out and began exploring the garage, sniffing everything in sight, including the people.

“What the hell, Monkey?!” Wylde was the first to say something about their uninvited visitor, despite kneeling down to pet the dog. The dog immediately lunged to lick at his face, and Monkey though for sure that Wylde would try and throw the mutt off of him, but despite his tense words, the driver looked like he was fighting back a smile.

“He hopped in and wouldn’t get out!” Monkey tried to explain, but by the looks of it, Wylde wasn’t listening anymore.

That was when Porkchop and Taro began to meander over to see what all the commotion was about.

“You brought back a dog?” Taro questioned, his eyes flicking between the hound and Monkey for a moment. He looked unimpressed, but all things considered, that was how Taro usually looked.

“I didn’t mean to he just-” Monkey was interrupted by Porkchop as the big guy leaned down next to Wylde and was the dog’s next victim. The mutt jumped up and put his paws on Porkchop’s shoulders before viciously licking him all over his face.

Porkchop bellowed with laughter as he tried to move his face away to speak.

“He reminds me of Baby.” Porkchop said through fits of laughter. Baby was Porkchop’s childhood guard dog, and now that Monkey was really looking at him, he did sort of resemble the pictures Porkchop had shown him.

“Huh, yeah. I guess he does.” Monkey agreed quietly.

Everyone was so caught up with the dog that they almost missed Tork finally approaching the group. He didn’t look too happy, but like Taro, that was par for the course.

“Thought we’d agreed about not taking in anymore strays.” His voice rang out through the garage as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the mutt. The dog was still having the time of his life, alternating between Wylde and Porkchop. “Get rid of it.” He said, fixing Monkey with a look that had the mechanic shrinking in his boots.

“I’ve tried. He just won’t leave!” Monkey tried to explain, but then, against all odds, Wylde jumped in to help.

“Maybe he doesn’t have anywhere else to go.” Just like I didn’t. He wouldn’t say it. Even if he laid awake at night thinking about how having the Metal Maniacs had likely saved his life. How Tork taking him in when his own brother’s actions, or rather inactions, had landed him behind bars for two years, had comforted him more than he’d ever let on. He was a stray once too. One that bit. They’d let him stay.

“I said no.” Tork reiterated, frowning down at Wylde. Wylde frowned right back until Porkchop spoke up.

“He’d make a good guard dog.” He looked scary enough to spook anyone dumb enough to steal from the Metal Mainacs. Plus it would be like having a free alarm system that you could play fetch with.

“I’ll help train it. Besides we were all strays once.” Taro chimed in, but Tork stayed silent. You could hear a pin drop if it weren’t for the dogs loud, excited panting.

Their leader pursed his lips as he surveyed the group. His strays. His people.

With a frown and a sigh he rolled his eyes and finally relented.

“Fine, but the first time that dog barks while I’m tryna sleep, it’s back to the junkyard, understood?” Tork said sternly, but the dog’s tail stayed firmly wagging behind him.

They ended up naming him Bumper, for obvious reasons. He fit in well with the group. He was protective, sweet, and made a good heated blanket when winter rolled around. He even grew on Tork eventually.

By the end of his first year with the Maniacs, Taro had him fully trained to help out around the garage. Needed something that wasn’t within arms reach? Just ask Bumper to fetch it. People parking too close to their cars at a meet? Bumpers got it covered with a few vicious sounding barks and growls. He even helps Porkchop through storms, curling up next to the big guy whenever he hears one rolling in.

In fact, he helps out all the Metal Maniacs when it comes to their mental health. All in all, Bumper ends up being a great addition to their gang of strays.

——— Thanks for Reading ———

[faemytho]

“What am I supposed to do when I can’t even trust my own thoughts?” with Abyss Monarch and Eel,,, 👀?

yes yes yes. im craving them (voice of a guy who is writing a multichapter longfic series with them). i altered the sentence just a lil! hope thats ok.

HEY. vote abyss monarch and electric eel for COTY. okay? i need abyss monarch's goth ass in PINK. (and eel white day costume. pls pls pls)

-

Electric Eel found them in the junkyard.

Wandercrab returned to this spot every so often, depositing the trash it cleaned up from other places around the ocean floor and organizing it. It was where they did their repairs to the city mech and where they picked up wanderers who waited for its return. It was the night before they would set out again, and Ink Cloak had gone missing.

"Hey," Eel called to them as he approached. They flinched where they were curled up, coiling closer around themself. Their hood was down, which was a sight Eel had never gotten to see. He stopped beside them, hands shoved in his pockets. "You okay, Ink Cloak?"

Without looking up, Ink Cloak shook their head. They hugged their knees tighter, tentacles twisting and curling where they sat in anxious movements. One of them found Eel's leg, and curled around his ankle.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked, and they shook their head again.

Eel looked out over the junkyard. It had been from all this junk that he, Anglerfish, and Hermit Crab had built Wandercrab. That fact alone had given some value to this garbage dump.

Ink Cloak was silent, and Eel took a soft breath. "Can I sit with you?" he asked, and after a long moment, Ink Cloak nodded.

Eel took a seat beside them among the heaps of garbage, brushing some of it aside with his tail. The tentacle that had wrapped itself around his ankle squeezed, and he rested a gentle hand on it. Clearly something was wrong, but he couldn't force Ink Cloak to talk about it.

"Do you remember the day I found you here?" Eel asked after a moment of silence. Ink Cloak didn't look up, but they made a soft noise, an acknowledgement to keep talking. Eel pulled his legs close and looked out over the junk with a little smile. "You were completely out cold when I found you. I think you're lucky the worms didn't think you were dead and start trying to eat you."

Ink Cloak gave a soft scoff, but still, they didn't lift their head. Eel continued.

"You were all curled up in your tentacles, so I thought maybe you were hurt. Anglerfish just said you needed rest, but I was so worried about you that I stayed with you till you woke up."

"Idiot," Ink Cloak muttered, but there was no bite behind their tone. Eel grinned, even though they weren't looking.

"Hey, I was scared!" he protested with a laugh. "But also, I didn't want you to be alone when you woke up. I nearly tripped over you when I found you here, by the way."

Ink Cloak snorted. The tentacle around his ankle slowly uncurled itself.

"You remember what you said when you first saw me?" Eel tilted their head, stifling a giggle as Ink Cloak groaned.

"Don't remind me," they muttered, lifting their head just enough to speak. "That was embarrassing."

"You told me," Eel giggled, "that I was the brightest pearl in the sea."

"I was delirious!" Ink Cloak groaned, finally lifting their head and giving him a look. Despite all this, there was a quirk to the corner of their lips. "I was exhausted, I was not thinking clearly! It was dark, you were alight, and I was not in my right mind!"

Eel burst out laughing, a happy, carefree sound that echoed through the waters of the junkyard. After a moment, Ink Cloak joined in with quiet chuckles of their own.

"Still, I'm glad I found you," Eel said, letting his laughter die down. "It's kinda funny. You haven't been here long, but now, I couldn't even imagine Wandercrab without you."

He let himself look at them, really look at them. He'd never gotten to see their face unobscured like this, their eyes a vibrant green and their cheeks round and soft. Their eyelids were painted black, dark bags under their eyes. He hadn't even realized half of their head was shaved, their hair much longer on the other side. They were silent, staring at him.

"... Ink Cloak?"

"Ah," Ink Cloak said, soft and unsure. "Apologies, I just... was not expecting you to say such a thing."

"Well, it's true," Eel insisted, and Ink Cloak turned their face away. He frowned, shifting a bit to lean towards them. "What's wrong? Why are you out here?"

"I don't belong there," Ink Cloak murmured, turning their head to look at where Wandercrab rested. The lights of the city shone brightly, many different colors shimmering through the waters surrounding it. It cast the junkyard in a dim light of colorful shadows. "I don't belong in Wandercrab."

"Huh?" He looked at them, bewildered. What could have possibly led to that idea, Eel didn't know. "Of course you do! What makes you say that? Did someone say something to you? Do I gotta kick someone out?"

"No, no," Ink Cloak assured, their voice cracked and raw. "No, nothing was said to me. It was merely a fabrication of my own mind. Something I came to the conclusion of on my own."

Eel's frown deepened. "Well," he said, his voice soft and determined, "it's not true. Wandercrab is for everyone. You belong there just the same as I do, and if you don't belong in Wandercrab, then neither do I."

Ink Cloak stared at him, something like awed dismay on their face. "But I cannot stop thinking that that is untrue," they whispered. "I want to believe you, but you belong here, and I do not. What am I supposed to do when I can't even trust myself, or believe my own thoughts?"

"Trust me." Eel leaned forward a bit more, shifting where they sat and resting a hand on Ink Cloak's shoulder. "If you can't trust yourself, you can trust me until you can. Because I trust you, so if you trust me, then maybe it'll work out alright...?"

Ink Cloak looked at him, their gaze tired as it dropped from his face to the hand on their shoulder. Without a word, they took his hand in their own, holding it in both and staring down at it.

"You're such an odd cookie," they murmured, soft and simple, and lifted his hand to their mouth. The press of their lips to his knuckles made his breath hitch, heat drawn into his cheeks at the gentle action. "But somehow, you always know what to do."

Eel couldn't find his words, stiff and staring in surprise. The kiss tingled warmly against his hand, and the touch lingered long after it was gone. Their hand stayed grasped around his own, their fingers unnaturally cold against his. He didn't mind it, lowering his gaze to their joined hands.

"Electric Eel?" they asked softly, and Eel shook himself from his reverie.

"C'mon," he said with a little smile, squeezing their hand in his own and pulling himself to his feet. Ink Cloak followed without a word, their joined hands between the two of them. "I'm sure it's still happy hour at Choco Flounder's. Let's go get a drink."

Ink Cloak gave him a soft smile, looking down at him. Their hood was still down. Eel couldn't get enough of the sight of their face. "Lead the way," they said, in a tone that sounded more as though they were willing to follow him anywhere.

With his fluttering heart beating in his chest and their hand so neatly fit against his, Eel led the way out of the junkyard.

[goqmir]

as the resident Rocco and player who is addicted to getting value from casting shit from exile i am PRAYING on my hands and knees for more junk token makers in the fallout deck reveals next week.

they are so fun, incredibly strong, impulse draw is generally a very interesting and balanced mechanic, and the flavor of finding something useful in a junkyard or heap of scrap as impulse drawing a card (it might be useless and be exiled forever or it might be the treasure in the trash that saves you the game) is amazing. i love junk tokens so fucking much. please give us more junk tokens. as much as i know itll never happen my dream is for junk to be as common as foods and clues-- all im realistically hoping for is an engine that can slot into Rocco as a draw engine (and maybe a junk subtheme in a direct-to-modern set...............)

[zebee-nyx]

CalmWriMo Day 20

[11/20/2023]

Update!

It is Monday once again and once again I wish it were any other day lol. Aside from that, wow it's already day 20! This month feels like it is flying by at this point. ('^.^) Not sure how I feel about that... Anyways, could only really write the blurb today. Not feeling horribly ill, but not well either today. (~^~) Is unfortunately enough to be hampering my ability to do the things. Hoping whatever it is has pasted by the morning.

Progress:

2 Hour Writing Goal: ✅

Blurb: [see below]

Self Care:

Food: ✅

Hydration: ✅

Sleep: ✅

Reading: ✅

Blurb: The Junkyards / Junkers / Junk Races

The "Junkyards", often referred to simply as "the yards", are the landfills that wrap around the city. These stretches of land are absolutely covered in tall mounds of trash. From the uppercity and midcity trash is carried here on garbage collection trucks and airborne barges. From the undercity trash just slowly filters outwards as people occasionally push it over to neighboring areas, typically closer to the edge of the city. Either way, eventually all of the city's waste either ends up here... or in the lake.

Common sights include black plastic garbage bags, rusty beat up cars, murky ponds of maybe-water, discarded chemical waste, unused building materials, the occasional corpse, small garbage fires, among other delightless attractions. Naturally the smell in this place is sickening and quite possibly toxic.

While inherently a rather unpleasant place to exist there is a niche local community of "junkers" that call this hellscape home. Small hamlets with tin sheet roofs and plastic walls dot the yards. Most who live here are scavengers, exiles from the city, outdated and trashed androids, or simply had the misfortune to born here. Surprisingly enough though these communities are fairly close knit and any sort of wrongdoings between individuals within these communities is quite rare.

One of the more intresting features that have appeared here is complex race tracks. These centers of junker entertainment are in a near constant state of flux as the trash heaps shift and fresh wrecks are added to the tracks. The dangerous races held here can be more described as a demolition derbies on linear paths with a very "anything goes" approach. Vehicles are slapped together with scavenged parts and reinforced with whatever trash can pass as armor. Racers often are armed or otherwise find creative weapons to install on their vehicles. The winner of such races is determined either being the first past the finish post or simply the last one standing... Most of the time it is the latter. Streams of these races have gained some popularity within the city proper as another way to feed the insatiable hunger for entertainment. Locally, these events have become a perceived ride out of the yards and into a comfortable lap of luxury should a racer distinguish themselves (in a survivable way).

Bonus character fun fact: Nat is from the yards, where she spent most of her childhood. She was a scavenger/mechanic and racer before <event redacted> which led her moving into the undercity to work with Doc.

[Not many notes on the yards yet, hasn't been at the center of my attention since most of stories planned out/considered happen in the uppercity or undercity. So! Will probably have more to say about the yards as I have more ideas. (^^) Anyways and always, hope you had a lovely day, peace (^.^)v]

[spaceintruderdetector]

If these movies were junk, Smith never denied it: “Trash,” he proclaimed, ^is the material of creators." Secret-flix cannot be remade but only exhumed. "The Memoirs of Maria Montez," first published in Film Culture in the heady aftermath of Flaming Creatures's spring 1963 release, suggests - no less than Smith's chef d'oeuvre - a ritual set in a derelict movie studio. (In this case, the star is a decomposing corpse.) The trash heap is a recurring Smith trope. A collector of cultural detritus, a connoisseur of "moldiness," he was an aesthete with an acute sense of collapse and failure. In his oft-cited manifesto "Capitalism of Lotusland," a Section of the 1977 performance-piece Irrational Landlordism of Bagdad, Smith refers to a Free Paradise of abandoned objects (located, significantly, near the community movie sets). In the 1978 Semiotext(e) interview which illuminates the second half of his career as "The Perfect Film Appositeness of Maria Montez” does the first, Smith envisions a city Organized around a giant junkyard. “I think this center of unused objects and unwanted objects would become a center of intellectual activity. Things would grow up around it.”

Wait For Me At The Bottom Of The Pool The Writings : Jack Smith : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive

[instantlandtimemachine]

Welcome to the very first junkbots chapter, this AU has been getting some support from those who liked my posts so thanks to all who liked 👍

Let's get into this saga with:

CHAPTER 1 - ESCAPE FROM THE HEAP.

In a New York city in the current day and age, things are going shit for humanity, and soon things will get much worse for everyone and everything, but you wanna know what brave guys are not having any problems?

These are the junkbots.

A bunch of lovable goods who live in an abandoned junkyard, which they call "the heap".

There's the leader of the team - jack static.

His friend Arielle 51.

The anxious boxstritch

And the bit who knows magic, sage.

They're currently trying to build a car so they can learn to drive.

Sage: jack my boy, we need a steering wheel, I think there's one just over there!

Jack: alright sage, I'll be back soon.

As Jack walked around the old and trashed place, he heard a clanging in the various metals and waste, unnerved but determined, jack set off to find the steering wheel.

Boxstritch: hey sage, have you seen the giant spacecraft in the sky?

Sage: wait, what?

Arielle: Sweet! A photo opportunity!

Sage: are you serious?

Arielle: eh, it's a cool moment.

As the mysterious spacecraft started to come to orbit, hordes and hordes of heavily armed crash test dummies jumped out, and were immediately destroying everything in sight.

Jack: *gasp*, HOLY FUCKING SHIT! I can't let this go to waste, it's fighting time!

???: Hello there friend!

Jack: GAAAAAAAAAH!

???: WAAAAAAARGH!

As Jack came across the startled blue bot, jack became scared.

???: Don't be scared, I'm M.O.E, the mechanical operations expert! (And yes my name is an acronym).

Jack: nice to meet ya M.O.E, I'm jack static!

M.O.E: I'm here to get you outta this dump, because an Invasion is here!

As the bots looked around, the dummies were armed with guns of all shapes and sizes, and started tearing down the junkyard.

Jack: WHAT!?

As Jack's mind was about to snap, he gained a power that he had hidden in himself, he could run at Mach speed.

Jack: Oh hell yeah.

Crash dummy: aw fuck, he can run fast!

Jack: and I'm about to kick your metal ass.

Crash dummy: get him troops!

The enraged bot used his powers to fight the dummies, tearing them apart one by one.

M.O.E: hey static, tray holding hands with everyone and running really really fast!

Sage: I heard that!

Jack grabbed everyone by their hands (except boxstritch, he held him by his leg), and ran so fast, he traveled across dimensions, and to brighton falls, 1987.

CHAPTER 2 -BOTS AND HUMANS.

Arielle: woah! How could you do that?

Jack: I simply got so pissed that I could run at Mach speed!

Boxstritch: that's impressive.

Jack: but I'm really exhausted, I'm gonna go to sleep in this car... *Sleeps*

M.O.E: well he would get tired eventually.

As Jack slept in the automobile, the other guys decided to find a hiding place, and they found: a wheelie bin.

Sage: is this really where we're gonna be hidden?

Arielle: it's worth a shot.

A few hours had passed, and the car jack was in, had left.

Sage: oh fuck no!

Boxstritch: does he still have his gun?

Sage: of course he does! He also has a wrench for melee combat.

As Jack woke up, he found himself in a moving vehicle, with 2 people talking to eachother at the same time.

Jack: aw fuck, I can't get out now, but wait, I can hear some dicks being dicks!

As our hero overheard the ruckus, he got an insane idea.

Jack: this just might work.

Jack grabbed his gun and said to every teenager in the area:

Jack: LISTEN UP YOU BOZOS! This here girl is really really mean, look it this fine lad with the afro and the girl with the denim, do you really think they should get bullied? I say we all beat her up! What do you say?

Random teenager: he naturally has a point. Let's get her!

Jack's rousing speech had turned all the teenagers against Tina lark, and also his speech had also made it to the workers of hot dog on a stick, and they bet up their boss Craig.

???: Wow, how'd you do that!

Jack: I have no idea, but I'm jack static.

???: I'm Charlie Watson and this is my good friend memo.

Memo: yo!

Jack: my universe is really fucked up, and a bunch of evil dummies have destroyed my home, so could we team up?

Charlie: hell yeah, I'm dow-

Jack: aw shit, it's one of their ships!

Memo: get in Bumblebee.

Jack: who the fuck is Bumblebee?

Charlie: you'll see In Due time.

Jack and his newfound team members escaped back to the house that the junkbots had first rushed into.

M.O.E: eh jack, I see you made some new buds? Anyways, we're getting outta here, with this warp core and this microwave!

???: Who woke me up?

Charlie: aw fuck, Otis, we're escaping our world.

Otis: aw hell no.

Memo: ok lil' man, go tell your parents (or parent).

M.O.E: all done!

Boxstritch: so where are you warping is now TV-face?

M.O.E: have you eve been to a space city before? Because that's where we're going!

Sage: it is called the "crossroads" perhaps?

M.O.E: bonus points for funky wizard bot, you're correct!

Sage: oh boy! I've been here before! I can show you all around.

Arielle: that's great and all, but now we gotta go!

Boxstritch: we're warping in 3, 2, 1!

And so - our heroes warped into the space city, ready for a new adventure.

Also, I forgot to show the character images of Charlie, memo and Otis so here they are.

[seat-safety-switch]

Look, if you haven’t been hoarding piles of junk for our coming apocalypse, I don’t know what to tell you. Bad times are coming, and in those bad times, you’re going to want to have traded your “minimalist” lifestyle, with its “hygienic” cleaning routine, for a bunch of junk too. And you should have probably started a couple years ago, because boy is shipping ever screwed up now.

In the next couple of years, whatever weird asshole is going to be able to cobble together a working home computer from a set of old Christmas tree lights is going to be top of the heap. Everything is sort of falling apart right now, and our old lifestyle of “buy a new one” or even “buy the correct part” is slowly grinding to a halt. I do admit that it is very convenient for me. This very specific apocalypse, in which a hoarder idiot like myself will become akin to a living god.

Trust me that I’m pretty angry at everyone for having made this particular slow-motion Ragnarok come to pass, because to be honest I was perfectly happy scavenging trash from our land of plenty and its firehose of waste. I didn’t have to worry too much about ordering eight thousand of something, because I knew that the Chinese salvage yard would just get another two million the next day from all the stuff you regular folks are throwing out. Now, my hoard is precious. Everything became valuable through no fault of my own. It’s no longer fun to stick an o-ring in a weird jokey project, because in the back of my mind I’m thinking: I might need this o-ring for a homemade desalination plant in sixteen to twenty months.

There is hope, though. I figure if I can get to China before they forget how to make replacement parts for airplanes, I can just move in next to one of the big junkyards. Without the demands of international shipping, it will take them longer to draw down on their scrap supplies, and they wouldn’t begrudge their weird next door neighbour a few “engineering samples” that happen to go missing whenever I visit for a cup of tea. 

[containerwasteaus]

Why Rubbish Skips Are Essential For Large Garden Projects?

A Garden Project Without the Mess?

So, you’ve got grand plans for your garden—a total overhaul, a major landscaping project, or even a substantial clean-up.

The excitement is palpable, and the vision is clear, but then reality hits the mess. What’s the best way to handle all that waste without turning your backyard into a chaotic junkyard?

Enter rubbish skips in Christchurch. They’re not just a convenience but a game-changer for any large-scale garden project.

The Power of a Skip

Streamline Your Cleanup

Let’s face it: garden projects can get messy. From uprooting trees to clearing out overgrown hedges, you’re bound to generate heaps of waste.

Instead of juggling trash bags or making endless trips to the local dump, a Rubbish Skip in Christchurch makes life easier.

It’s a one-stop solution that allows you to toss everything in one place, freeing up your time and energy to focus on creating your garden oasis.

Cost-Effective Solution

Think about the costs associated with multiple trips to the landfill, not to mention the wear and tear on your vehicle.

Renting a rubbish skip in Christchurch can be surprisingly economical. Many services offer flexible rental periods, so you only pay for what you need.

Plus, it's often cheaper than the combined expense of fuel and tipping fees, not to mention the value of your time.

Environmental Benefits

Using a rubbish skip in Christchurch isn't just about convenience but also responsibility. Skips help streamline waste management, ensuring your garden debris is disposed of properly and sustainably.

Using a skip makes you more likely to separate recyclables from general waste, contributing to a greener environment. It’s a small step that makes a big difference in reducing your project's ecological footprint.

The Convenience Factor

Space Saver

Space is at a premium if you’re working on a large garden project. Piling up debris in the corner of your yard can be an eyesore and a safety hazard.

A rubbish skip in Christchurch neatly contains all your waste in one designated spot. This keeps your project area tidy and ensures that your garden remains functional and safe throughout the work.

Efficient Workflow

Managing waste can disrupt your project flow. With a skip, you minimise interruptions—no more pausing to haul bags of rubbish or getting sidetracked by multiple trips.

Instead, you can focus on the creative aspects of your garden makeover, knowing that the waste is being handled efficiently and professionally.

Finding the Right Skip for Your Needs

Choosing the Right Size

One size doesn’t fit all regarding rubbish skips in Christchurch. Depending on the scale of your project, you might need a small skip for a light cleanup or a large one for extensive work.

Most skip rental companies offer a range of sizes, so you can select the one that best fits your needs.

Reliable Service Providers

To ensure a smooth experience, choose a reputable provider for your rubbish skip in Christchurch.

Look for companies with positive reviews and a track record of reliability. Good service will include timely drop-off and pick-up and clear instructions on what can and can’t be disposed of in the skip.

In Conclusion

A large garden project is thrilling, but it comes with challenges—the chief one is managing the waste.

Rubbish skips in Christchurch offer a practical, cost-effective, and environmentally friendly solution to keep your project on track.

By incorporating a skip into your plans, you’ll streamline your cleanup, maintain a cleaner work environment, and focus more on turning your garden dreams into reality.

So, before you start digging in, consider the benefits of a skip; it just might be the secret ingredient to a successful garden transformation!

Source: Why Rubbish Skips Are Essential For Large Garden Projects?

[thenewnio]

Jay Hosler's insect universe+Deponia AU fic idea: Gomia

Rubi and Miranda are two orphaned friends living at the edge of a small settlement somewhere in the most remote sector of the junkyard-like planet Gomia. Both girls dream of a better life in the beautiful floating city of Apis high above the planet surface. When a girl named Nyuki falls from Apis down into a neighboring trash heap, Rubi and Miranda see their chance, deciding to bring her back to her home in a vague hope of making it off the planet. So begins a wild adventure where the trio journey across across the trash-filled world to find Nyuki's sister, all the while chased by the Cyboron, cyborg soldiers with insidious plans for Apis and Gomia.

[paradoxrealm]

The Monster of the Junkyard (A Gear in Time AU)

CRASH. What was that?? The human silently sneaks her way over to the source of the loud noise, peeking out from behind a large mound of trash. What she saw made her blood run cold... There some feet away was this hulking...thing. The being was propped up with a single, squeaky wheel. It's head in the shape of a jagged crescent moon. Four arms attached by equally squeaky hinges jutted out from it's body ending in clawed hands entirely made of... rusted metal. 'The Monster!' She thought, looking in disbelief...it was real. It was also blocking her path out, rummaging through the piles of trash. No way in hell she was getting close; if the rumors proved to be true....She'd have to scale the mounds of trash. And that's what she did; clambering up the mound of junk she was hiding behind in hopes of evading this mechanical monster...

—————

It seemed a fine idea- certainly better than going near the thing- but trash piles weren’t exactly the quietest thing to climb up. He seemed content only a moment longer, his claws clicking together as he stalled in his work, head twisting to look directly at her as the garbage beneath her shifted from her weight.

“You-“ his voice came out as garbled static, nearly incomprehensible as he narrowed his eyes- eye. One of his eyes was missing it’s glass paneling, and by the looks of it, the shutter that would allow him to emote with it. It certainly made him appear more threatening, the undissolved red glow too bright to comfortably stare at for long.

He hissed, one of his sharp hands opening and closing like it expected to be holding something that it wasn’t. That didn’t stop him from speeding over to the trash heap she was on top of as mechanical screeches emitted from him. Given the condition he was in, he moved surprisingly quickly.