#all meese can do this

[monster-every-day]

day 118 - 4/27/24 - all meese can do this

it's just that nobody's lived to tell the tale. They bury themselves in the ground such that only the antlers are poking out and then they eat people. Yeah they can bury themselves Don't Worry About It.

They also eat orcas. It's actually a two-way relationship. People just found those orca skeletons in the woods and chalked it up to classic orca behavior. Everyone knows Orcas tend to wander into the woods and then turn into skeletons instantaneously, that's how these meese (moose) have gotten away with it for so long.

[chalkrub]

In the furry au are Mockley and Coltarch just themselves or do they have their own fursonas that are completely different from the animals that they already are

they have fursonas! <:^) though i do like the idea of furries existing alongside weird dinosaurs

here's some little portrait sketches. moose coltarch and badger mockley

still not completely sold on coltarch being a moose, might make him an adder. but mockley's a badger for sure, even though owl/squirrel/hare were tempting. i want them to all be cute fairytale woodland critters together, to match the fox/pheasant thing mika and heidi have going on....beatrix potter type animals just spiritually and mentally ripping each other to shreds. and also physically

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

candace flynn is THE most teenage girl character of all time. she is at level 100 anxiety 24/7. she shows her love for her brothers by trying to get them in trouble constantly. her neck is as long as her forearm. she features on a blues album after having an allergic reaction. she has a shrine to her boyfriend in her room. she can't live without her phone. she has a panic room in the basement. she plays 20 instruments that all start with the letter B. she read all of sherlock holmes in one night. she's seen their platypus running around as a secret agent more than once, assumed she was hallucinating each time, and moved on with her life while telling no one. she likes wrestling video games. she was rutabaga princess. she has a billion people to email memes to but when she's trying to think of friends she can only think of four people and one of them is her mom. most animals hate her except monkeys. she invented grilled cheese flavored ice cream. she pretended to be irish for a week. she's autistically obsessed with her universe's version of barney. she writes marvel fanfiction. she does parkour. there's an entire archive of her voice actress screaming just in case her voice ever gave out while recording. she sees her brothers build time machines and rollercoasters every day but doesn't believe in santa. when she starts scheming the wicked witch of the west theme starts playing in the background. she was elected queen of mars. she won a "mayor for the day" essay competition. there's a random person in town who's been avoiding her to the point she doesn't know he exists. she learned how to parallel park by driving a monster truck. she thinks the plural of moose is "meese." she tracks her mom with a GPS. she doesn't know her little brother's full name. she's scared of heights, spiders, and the number seven. when her boyfriend told her he'd call "soon" she started doing complex math to try and figure out when exactly that would be. her first thought upon seeing her royal doppelganger was to go to the laundromat and fill all the dryers with cheese. she earned 50 not-girl-scout patches in one day through sheer determination. she can run fast enough to catch up to moving cars. she can sense when ground is broken in the backyard and when people are judging her. one time she got her face caught in the sink. her brothers carved her into mount rushmore. every now and again a magical zebra appears, calls her kevin, and then disappears again. she killed 99% of an alien invasion with a t-shirt cannon. in an alternate universe she's leading a regime-destroying resistance at the age of 15. she's being accidentally gaslit every day of her life.

[blossoms-phan]

tit summary/thoughts/spoilers under the cut!! <3

hiii wanted to make one of these just so I can ramble about everything bc what a crazy night LMAOO gonna make another post about the day so this is just about the show

my soul left my body when the lights went dark omfg, that is literally one of my favourite parts about concerts/live shows. the smoke and lights was a lot but the second they came out it’s like everything cleared up, i loveee how they come out with their backs to us and then the happy silly music when they’re running around saying hi hehehehe

the whole intro/beginning part was so fun i just loved the bits when they were just talking to us, canada love, the history of dnp/why we're all here etc etc. the dolls/diorama is such a fun little phistory recap, though i will say it was not as wild as i was maybe expecting or what they've done on other nights lol. they "wrestled" in the first one, nothing in the manchester apartment, "kissed" (69-ed lol) in the london one and that was it but they were all SO well made (shoutout pj and sophie), i loved phil's hoodie for the 2 apartment era hehe

role model or no-le model: very fun section, i wish i could tell you all the fill in the blanks we did but i can't remember for the life of me lol i shouted yaoi so loud for all of the lawyer dan ones but alas :( but i do remember lawyer dan writes erotica about timbits, then when the side by sides came up on the screens after it had been changed to "Phim Phbits" which made them both genuinely laugh it was so sweetie. we killed regular dan and doctor phil

phanspiracies were: toilet, clothes, tour bus and wedding. honestly very solid picks, it was so surreal seeing those "phan proof" comps of them wearing the same clothes on the screen down to the zoomed in picture of the underwear from the christmas cookies video 😭 the tour bus clip will never not be crazy but it was SO funny bc we cheered so loudly after phil said it was true that they shared the bed and dan was judging us but all i could think about is the stunned silence from phantwerp day one, i will never forget listening to that live and it's probably been so entertaining for them to see the shift from that lmao. the wedding edits were so funny dan was like "i know you had that as your desktop background for 6 years" and someone behind me was like "YES I DID", dan's little kick and cheeky smile at "i'm just opposed to anything traditional" ok sure

i can't remember which section this was during it was something to do with discussing a past era but phil said "maybe I was just horny" and i screamed lmao

the boxing segment ajdjkskjsf i have been waiting for it my entire goddamn life tbh and it was so fun. no one told me about the visuals on the screen ok why do they look so GOOD in them?? i wasn't actually expecting them to knock each other out or anything but it did seem a tinyy bit tamed down from what i've seen before, like they were being very gentle with each other lol but it was cute, the bite was still bite-y and the run around the theatre was craaaazy, the camera following them is so good lol

they yapped for moose. meese. meeses for a minute straight and i forgot it was supposed to be a bit it was so natural they're good at it whether they like it or not

oh yeah that's the other thing. they are fucking INCREDIBLE performers. like, they are so good at what they do and it was one of the highlights of my life getting to experience it irl. the show is incredibly well paced, the script is funny, the audience participation makes it but it's so insane to see how well they work together. the comfort and familiarity after so many years plays a huge part (there was a solid like 7 shoulder touches btw) but their dynamic is soooo good, they play off of each other so well. literally everything @cheekyvank described to me about dan as a performer is true. he was ALWAYS moving, he moves his mouth and bends and grooves and does the absolute most but it's soooo natural, like he has so much fun doing it. that man is a theatre kid all grown up and it's incredibly endearing but he's also a master, like he was MADE to be on a stage, he's so fucking good at balancing between roasting and teasing us and pointing out at people and winking and he called out someone filming without actually saying anything and it was so smooth and lowkey hot but also like jesus i didn't even risk TRYING to take a picture i am sooooooo scared of him. also thanks to you @jonsaremembers i was looking forward to the 4 g's all night, i am their geeky girlie forever and ever 🫶

and phil. oh my sweet precious baby angel. my heart was burstingggg with phil love all night. he is so, so so so good literally everything right with this world tbh. you can tell he has SO much fun on the stage as well, there's moments where his smile softens or he just looks out onto the audience and i want to shower him with love and affection (and we did! i honestly think one of the loudest screams was for "normal phil" during role model hehe). he is so effortlessly funny, the silly little run over to the microphone every time for the "hiatus" was one of my favourite bits of the show. i absolutely loved his getting real with us bit, it reminded me so much of his youtube videos- and i hope he knows how powerful and meaningful that "light entertainment" is for us. his voice was soooo soft and gentle it was like we were his children he was talking to which i guess we kind of are in this context. i love him forever and ever

sister daniel. INCREDIBLE follow up. i knew it was coming and nothing prepared me for Her. another part of the set design/production that is so well done, the visuals and the bass dropping when she comes out is SOOO fucking good. i have never screamed so loudly in my life. i would do anything she asked me to. the underwear were so fucking short i could not see a THINGGG like. fucking hell. lots of pulling the dress down and legs crossed/staying sat the whole time though lol which fair but the confessions and water spraying was fun, it will never not be funny when dan shames people for opening their mouths after they say it's sister daniel's bath water lmfaooo

the SONG!!!!!!!! the most fun. in the entire world. it's so good it's so fun. the lyrics, them going FULL boy band mode, the hands folding over and doob grab was infinitely more devastating irl. dan is so fucking good at the dance i love you forever terminal theatre kid and i think phil has reached the peak of how well he can do it and i want to give him his flowers for trying his damn best every time you keep doing you baby. the part where it kinda slows down and they're just doing the geekiest moves ever like those are my BABIESSS dfjksajdks standing up to rave with dnp in a room full of phannies was the highlight of my entire fucking life.

this was SO much longer than i anticipated and i'm probably still gonna go on about things as i remember it but it was genuinely the most fun and memorable night of my life. i love these two silly little guys so much, it was so surreal seeing them in person after over a decade and i would do anything to experience it again but i'm so, so grateful i got to do it once and i will cherish the memories forever. and this has only made me more insane about them and cemented the fact that i wholeheartedly believe they love us, this new era, and that they're not going away anytime soon so i WILL see you guys back on the internet and hopefully outside of it one day again too <3

(i lied here’s the one picture I took aka far from dan’s prying eyes during the part where they’re not there being gay getting out of their clothes)

[lululandd]

antics; (iii.)

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

wordcount: 2.3k

warnings: fluff, comedy, i put roach in specgru

note: thankyou jagga for the prank idea :3 (also on AO3)

summary: simon pranks reader back (again) + everyone else

part i. | part ii. | part iii.

His ‘actual’ revenge came weeks later when he showed up at your door with groceries in his arms.

He walks in like he owns the place, Meese following him excitedly and impatiently plopping down, showing his belly near his feet every few steps he walks into your home.

Putting down his groceries on the counter next to the fridge, he excitedly rummaged in it, “These were on sale.” He triumphantly showed you a can of wet food.

You recognise them as the expensive kind with real chunks of meat and fancy oils and added vitamins that you only buy for Meese on his little kitty birthday.

Simon waved the little can around tantalisingly, making Meese’s eyes go all large and round and shiny. The little fella’s tail shot up and he swished it about, anticipating whatever he thought it was.

“Can I give this to him now?” He politely asks, looking at you expectantly.

Glancing at the clock, you see it’s only fifteen minutes away from his normal feeding time, so you guess why not. “Sure, go ahead.” You walk over to pick up Meese’s bowl and rinse it with water before drying it and putting it on the counter by him.

Knowing what his bowl being taken away usually means, Meese glued himself onto Simon’s legs and rubbed his head on his calf lovingly. Little traitor.

He looked down at him and smiled before setting his eyes on the can and popping it open. He promptly scrunched his nose. “Smells rank. Like old beef and mouldy beans.”

You held your laugh, “Well I don’t usually put my face that close to cat food.”

“You sure this is good for them?” He turned towards you fully, his nose wrinkling as he took another good solid whiff at it. His eyes are gonna water if he keeps being that close to the open can.

Nodding, you push Meese’s bowl closer towards him so he doesn’t have to smell it any longer. You grabbed a spoon off the dishrack and handed it to him.

He scoops a little dollop of wet cat food, and to your utmost horror he puts it in his mouth and starts chewing.

Gasping and grabbing whatever you can of him, you scrambled to stop him from chewing and swallowing. “Simon what in christ FUCK are you fuckING DOING???”

At this point Meese had backed off of you two and stared from a safe distance.

The man had the audacity to look wholly unbothered at the situation. “What? gotta make sure it tastes allright before I give it to the cat.” he shrugged you off, “Did the same thing with the salmon.”

“Yeah but that’s salmon the fish, this is catfood the cat…food!!”

He burst into laughter, coughing midway as he choked on his own spit. As he walked away to grab a glass of water, you peered into the can with a chunk missing.

Why is it pinkish white instead of shit brown like usua—

You leaned closer to the open can to confirm your suspicions, “Simon…you did fucking not just eat canned chicken straight from the bloody fucking can for a prank.”

The man choked mid sip, spitting the water back into the glass, with some dribbling down his chin.

Oh this man will be the death of you. 

His fit of laughter started again, placing a hand on the kitchen table before collapsing on a chair, hunched over with his hands on his stomach.

Thirty minutes and a full Meese later, Simon still giggles to himself from time to time as he sits on your sofa with your traitor of a cat purring up a storm on his lap. It’s a little scary how small Meese looks compared to him.

“Shoulda seen your face.” He smugly told you as he giggled to himself again.

Before the whole Meese ordeal, you’ve known Simon as the scary neighbour that doesn’t talk to anyone and everyone is scared of. But now here he is, comfortably lounging on your sofa while your cat lounges on him. You glance up from your phone from time to time to see the cosy scene, making you smile in return. It’s now hard to imagine he’s the same grumpy neighbour that you used to worry about.

You know nothing about this man; you don’t know what’s going on in his other aspects of life, you don’t even know where he works, but you know with certainty that you want him to smile and laugh as often as he can. And with this back and forth on the pranking, you think you know how to make that happen.

“Where are you going?” He called out as soon as you stood up.

You turned your head in confusion, “I’m… getting my laptop.”

“Okay.”

Grabbing your laptop and mouse from your study, you get to work immediately. Meese, seeing a better source for warmth, moves from Simon’s lap and twists his way onto the bottom of your laptop. Your phone lights up with a message sometime later, and seeing who it's from makes you look up at the man sitting in front of you, who’s currently busy scrolling on his own phone.

Opening the message, it was a picture of you working with Meese’s unhinged, pulled back face showing up on the space underneath the laptop and in between your crossed legs. When you looked up at him he was already looking at you, making you smile in the process. 

“Hope you didn’t mind the pic.”

You shook your head, and closed your laptop in a hurry when he stood and walked over.

He recoiled a bit at your action, but paid no mind and excused himself because he had to go back to his own place. Meese tried so hard to make him stay but in the end the man has his own space and can’t hang out at your place all the time.

Finishing your little project that night, you went to the printing place two blocks away the next day to make your vision a reality. It came out better than expected, looking official and all that shit.

You almost ran back to his place, the cheshire grin apparent on your features the whole way. He opened the door almost immediately after the first knock, which adds to your excitement.

Eyeing your arms, and the floor, he seems to be looking for Meese, which you don’t blame. His whole interaction with you revolved around him since the beginning. His eyes narrow as his lips purse.

Raising your arms in mock surrender, you assure him you’re not here to pull a prank right now. “I wanna show you something.”

“Sure.” He answered as he still looked around suspiciously, “Out there on in here?”

You peered into his place, and he took it as an answer, moving away from the door to make space for you. His corner flat feels comically small for a man of his stature and size. Not realising it yet but your subconscious noted the lack of decoration and colour in his living space. Carefully fishing the freshly printed stickers from inside your bag, you handed it to him.

He stared at the warm sheet in his hand, six rectangular stickers with a silhouette of a person’s side profile and a sideways Wi-Fi symbol coming out of their mouth with the words “Voice Activated” written underneath it. Another half dozen stickers below it have two hands on them, saying “Clap Activated”. He looked at you in half confusion and understanding.

Your smile broadened, “They’re for your co-workers. You can put them on coffee machines or faucets or the printer or whatever appliance you have at work.”

He ran his hand over his face, a dark chuckle emerging from the back of his throat. “This could get me fired.”

Hearing his words, your smile faded a little bit.

Looking up from the stickers, his smile broadened. “I love it.”

—

Ghost knows he shouldn’t be feeling this giddy for such a silly little prank that his neighbour suggested but he couldn’t help it. His cold and stoic demeanour had been chipped away little by little by that stupid little cat of hers, and in tandem, the woman herself. It bled into his work persona, his mind wanders back home more often than he should.

He saw Soap walk into the break room, reflexively making him try to look more relaxed and less suspicious; whatever that means.

The Scot tilted his head at the coffee maker he knew he'd seen before—he should, he just switched coffee machines with the other break room across the base—but with the words “Voice Activated” now stuck on it.

He looked around and at this point everyone in the breakroom was in on the joke, since some of them had fallen for it or they witnessed the chaos, and now stayed to see who’d be the next victim. 

“The fuck am a supposed ta say tae the damn thing?” He said loudly as he puts a cup underneath. “Start?”

Everyone tries so hard to keep their composure but some have already started giggling and Simon wants to strangle them. Keep it down. This is Soap. This is gonna get stupid any second now. Don’t blow it.

“Aw come oan. Coffee? Go?” He turned around at some sargeants, “Aye lads what tae fuck didja say to it to make it go?”

The closest sergeant to him showed her drink to him, “I made tea, dunno.”

He turned his attention to the damn machine again, “Turn oan.” He commanded, and as he was looking for a button to push, Gaz came into the picture.

Yes.

“What’s going on, Soap?” He greeted, picking up a cup and reaching for a tea bag.

Soap pointed at the Voice Activated sticker and Gaz surreptitiously turned his head around to look for someone, and when he saw him, he smirked. “Maybe we need to say it louder?”

Ghost thanks his double mask because he’s mad grinning right now. It’s a shame Gaz gets paired with Price so often, because he knows they would get along so well. Maybe better than him and Johnny, if he may be crass. He swears it’s like Gaz can read his mind sometimes.

“START!” At this point Soap is just one octave away from actually screaming his lungs out and the soldiers in the break room have lost their composure and started laughing at him, he and Gaz included.

Leaving the break room was his only option right now, as Soap had started trudging towards him, hot coffee in hand. As he power walked out, laughter barely hidden, he wished you were here to see all this unfold.

The opportunity came a whole week later, when he learned of SpecGru and KorTac’s practise match. Roach was with him this time, since it was he that told him about the practise match and it was him that talked him out of pranking their captain and doing it to KorTac operators instead. He placed the Clap Activated sticker in KorTac’s break room, taping over the light switch with duct tape.

Poor König was the one to enter the breakroom first, marvelling at the sign and then up at the lamp fixture before clapping.

The gloved clap produced a pathetic muffled sound, which the Austrian realised wouldn't be loud enough to be picked up by the sensors. The rest of his teammates walked in—first Horangi, followed by Graves, Nikto, and Mace—as he took his gloves off.

“Watcha doin’ big guy?” Graves walked closer, putting his hand out to hold König’s gloves.

The bigger man refused, instead squishing the gloves between his torso and his elbow. “Clap lights.” He answered as he clapped twice.

The light stayed off.

Graves joined in, stuffing his gloves in his back pocket. “Damn these are shitty lights. Built one in middle school for a project, they were so sensitive, any loud noise could activate them.”

Mace spoke up, “Did it turn on and off when you fuck?”

They all stared at him, “I was thirteen, man, what the hell. It did trigger when i slammed doors tho.”

Ghost doesn’t think he’s had this much fun since he joined the 141. The simpleness of the prank, the harmlessness of the whole ordeal. It didn’t escape his mind that a bunch of soldiers are the perfect people to use such pranks on. If they were office workers, they would not be so hands on, Graves would’ve given up the second his clap didn’t activate the lights and called the janitor or the building’s management. But here? as a soldier? He made König grab a chair to make sure the bulb isn’t loose before clapping again.

Everyone else had joined in, taking their gloves off, barking out orders, brainstorming ideas, all whilst clapping in-between, as Ghost and Roach tried their hardest to not make any sound during the whole ordeal. It all eventually went to moot when the lights turned on seemingly all by itself and Roach gasped in surprise, showing their position with his phone camera pointing right at them. They were too focused on Graves and König to realise Horangi had peeled the tape off the switch and manually turned it on.

They don’t know it yet, but this would be the start of the prank war between SpecGru and KorTac.

—

When you see Simon a couple of weeks later, he uncharacteristically shows you his phone when you were chilling together in his apartment—with Meese sniffing around his place, checking out his new cat scratcher—accompanied by tea and cookies.

“Don’t swipe.” He warned as he handed you his phone.

It’s an older model phone, you don’t recognise which, but from the cracked screen protector, yellowing case, and warmth of the phone, you would guess it was a couple years old by now. “Will I see dick, or..?” You teased as you looked up at him.

He didn’t answer, so you focused on the phone in your hand. you can tell it’s smaller than your phone, which is funny. The screen shows a paused video of what looks to be a darkened empty room.

“Got one of the pranks on camera.” He said as you looked at him before pressing play.

You looked at the edge of the phone where the duration of the video sits, and yelled at him, “The video is HOW long?????”

[spice-and-fire]

Anyone got the lowdown on what happened with that loud af sound in Worm Row? Heard it was a moose but do mooses meeses? big buff NA cow daddies they really sound like that?

anyway, if you live here, stay safe, all right? watch each other's backs if you can!

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

(no I'm not waiting for the real morning-)

HAPPY WHOLESOME SONIC AND TAILS WEDNESDAY!!!!!

@skimmingmilk got me curious about AoStH so I started watching it, and yes Sonic & Tails in it are ADORABLE 🥹

I also loved the little "Sonic Sez/Says" at the end of every episode, and seeing Sonic correct Tails' faulty 4-year-old spelling gave me an idea so I drew it and then wrote a fic to go with it.

Enjoy!!

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

"Tails, that's not how you spell 'telephone.' It's 'p-h-o-n-e,' not 'f-o-n-e.'"

5-year-old Tails stared at his older brother in bewilderment as Sonic took the pencil from him and wrote out the proper spelling beside Tails' attempt. "What? That doesn't make sense."

"Nothing in English makes sense," Sonic replied without missing a beat, his eyes still fixed on the paper as he set the pencil down. "But it somehow works. I figure it's better not to question it."

Tails frowned at the words on the paper. Sonic's handwriting wasn't neat, but it was more legible than Tails' big, spaced-out letters.

"Sonic?"

"Yep?"

"Did you ever go to school?"

Sonic shifted his gaze to meet his little brother's. "For a little bit, yeah," he answered, turning to wander back over to the tree stump he'd been sitting on before Tails had asked him to read the list of words he'd written out.

"Is that where you learned to read and write?"

"That was the start." Sonic flashed him a little smirk. "I figured the rest out myself."

Tails blinked. "How?"

"I dunno how to explain it," his brother protested, waving his arms a little. "I said words. I saw words. I put two and two together. And now I can do it."

The fox glanced back at the paper, comparing his writing to Sonic's. "So how come 'p' sounds one way, and 'h' sounds another way, but when you put them together they sound like 'f'? Why don't people just use the letter that already does that sound?"

Sonic groaned and leaned backwards over the tree stump, sounding frustrated. "I dunno what to tell ya, kid. I didn't invent these stupid spelling rules."

Tails sighed. With all the amazing things he'd seen Sonic do, between destroying robots and beating a middle-aged mad genius over and over again, he kept having to remind himself that his older brother didn't know everything. Sonic was . . . 13. That seemed so much older to him, but . . . he supposed that wasn't that old, compared to how long Mobians normally lived.

Still lying backwards over the tree stump, Sonic stretched his arm up and held out his hand against the sky, like he was trying to touch the clouds. "'Kay, kiddo, pop quiz. Let's see how stupid English really is. What's the plural of goose?"

"That's easy. Geese."

Sonic turned his head away a little, but failed to hide a mischievous smile. "Good. What's the plural of moose?"

Tails hesitated. He hadn't actually thought of that before, and this felt like a trap.

". . . Meese?"

Sonic snickered. "Nope. It's just 'moose.'"

There was a moment of silence, then an exclaimed "What?!" from Tails. Sonic immediately rolled over and started laughing.

"I told you English is stupid!"

The little fox started grumbling quietly to himself, something about wishing he'd been alive when English had been invented, then buried his face into one of his tails and let out a muffled scream of frustration.

"Hey, hey, take a chill pill, lil bro." Sonic sat up and faced him, still grinning. "It's not a big deal. You'll figure this out."

"I can see it all perfect in my head," Tails complained, lifting his head a little. "Why can't I just make what's in my head be on paper and be real?"

Sonic gave him finger guns. "That'd be an awesome invention. Do it."

Tails shot him a look, but his brother continued to smile back unwaveringly.

He took a deep breath, risking another critical glance at the words on the paper. "You know what, you're right. I'll figure it out. Can I just take a break?"

"Sounds good to me!" Sonic flipped to his feet (because why would he get up the normal way?) and strolled over to him. "I coulda sworn I saw a chili dog stand in the last town we ran through. Let's go grab a few."

"I'm sure I would've noticed that. You were probably hallucinating." Tails jumped up and hovered in the air, ready for Sonic to take off at his trademark speed. "Do we even have enough rings for that?"

"Of course we do." Sonic blasted off running back down the highway, and Tails followed close behind.

"I thought you spent almost half of them on a picture frame at the other place."

"Please, that was just a hundred."

"Why do we even need a frame? It's not like we have a camera."

"Maybe I'll buy one of those next. Sentiments, Tails, sentiments."

"Since when were you a sentimental guy?"

"Shut up, Tails."

BONUS: the drawing I made of this (before writing it and remembering they were homeless and outside 🤣)

Also, both this and last week's fic are now posted on Wattpad! I'll leave the link to it here :) more fics and art to come!

[twink-between-worlds]

im being so real i have never been more mad at a game than i am at zoochosis. like...

this is the SECOND game to let us down and i dont know why this ones making us more mad. we paid more for the OTHER fucking failure. but i just. okay ill put it under a cut because this got a LOT longer than i thought it'd get? HAHA sorry i just...im very passionate about animals and a lot of the time when moony + ledge were playin it i was backseating goin "They Do Not Fucking Do That."

let me. just. I know Moon made a "our thoughts" post but i wanna talk about those fuckin zebras. it was lazy to fucking make them sound like horses (they dont sound like horses, chat. relatively they're closer to donkeys than they are to horses!) and making them puke the same as the other animals (zebras cannot actually throw up! if someone animated one throwing up, they could at least make them look visibly pained -- because it WOULD hurt like a motherfucker. they arent supposed to be able to throw up, of course it would hurt!)

other animals too, actually, dont make sense.

who. in their right mind. decided to put FOUR MALE SILVERBACK GORILLAS in the same enclosure. im sorry but literally that is probably worse than the actual mutation. come on. they would kill each other before even being infected or mutated. silverbacks are known to be more aggressive. this was stupid. are silverback gorillas the only type of gorilla that they knew, or something?

the giraffes feeding station wouldnt be ground level. theyd be higher up to account for their necks, since it can hurt them if it's too fucking low!!!! jesus fucking christ. giraffes also don't puke the way the game shows! giraffes throw up on a regular basis, sure, but not like humans do!! They have the same stomach structure as cows, meaning they have four chambers, so they 'throw up' more like a cow does to break down their food a little in the 1st of their 4 chambers, and then regurgitate it to chew it more thoruoughly! they do this with water too! but they don't tend to throw up the way zoochosis shows them to do!!!!!! IM MAD ABOUT THIS.

i dont have a real issue with the penguins... dunno why they never went into the water. bit weird but not too bad? i guess? . actually. they all appear to be emperor penguins, but some have red and purple instead of yellow on their necks???? hello??? god, are you there???? thats not even, like, intended to show infection. they just Did That.

Why Were There Moose In The Zoo. Are they typically in zoos??? we've never seen one irl so we genuinely dont know if its just where we are that doesnt have any moose (meese? whats te plural of moose.) in zoos.

the wallabys....ill be real, for us they wouldnt stop fucking moving so we could NEVER get their blood and it was just annoying. wallabys are also typically smaller but we dont talk about that, apparently?? (im also pretty sure they cant throw up either, i think they also do the Cow Thing, but i cannot say it confidently, so it doesn't count to the "this animal cant fucking throw up." counter)

guess what? they did the throwing up thing THREE TIMES, BABEY! ELEPHANTS CANT FUCKING DO THAT EITHER. you'd think, if they're gonna make a game about a zoo, that they'd look up what certain animals can and can't do, and work around the limitations to make different symptoms, but i guess fucking not!

the hippos were weirdly docile, having a strange human being close and touching them. i dont care. hippos don't like humans being in their territory (in this case, their enclosure is their territory!) and they get agressive if you're in their space. also, you poke a needle into them, they'd get fucking pissed. you would be dead. the infection wouldnt get to you as fast as that fucking hippo would, i promise you.

im so fucking sorry zoochosis tag. i like animals a lot. i could go on about the mutations too but im not doing that to you HAHA

[nintendoduo]

Playing the Super Nintendo's Forgotten Home-Made RPGs of the '90s (Part 1)

Did you know that the Super Nintendo housing a family of tiny spiders in your closet is also technically a device for creating RPGs? (As in role-playing games; sorry, everyone who imagined their SNES shooting out rocket-propelled grenades.) This is thanks to RPG Maker: Super Dante and RPG Maker 2, the two SNES-compatible installments in the long-running series of games about making games. Although neither made it outside Japan, in 1998 a group called KanjiHack released their own English translation for RM2 and encouraged players to send in their creations, to be showcased in an extremely 1998-looking website called The Fantasy Maker's Vault.

How did that go? Well, four months later, KanjiHack announced they were fed up with receiving hundreds of half-baked, poorly-formatted games and were deleting all but the ones that were actually finished, which left them with exactly... one game. Shortly after that, the makers of RPG Maker submitted something of their own: a cease-and-desist letter. KanjiHack promptly shut down, and all those user-made SNES RPGs were forgotten forever. Or, well, until now.

Thanks to some digging on archive.org and a visit to an all-German Discord (shout out to Spatzenfärber at the RMArchiv & Makerpendium server!), we were able to find eleven English-language home-made SNES RPGs from the '90s. While playing through all of those historical artifacts across two livestreams, we were witness to things you wouldn't normally encounter in games with the Nintendo Seal of Quality, like crude jokes, ham-fisted attempts at social commentary, misspellings, underage substance abuse, and, of course, some weirdly horny stuff. Here's part one of our attempt to summarize each game, for posterity:

"Atonement" by RPG Advocate (05-08-1998)

Original description: A young girl sets out to establish friendly relations with an old enemy.

Right off the bat, the earliest game uploaded to the Vault (and, apparently, the oldest surviving RPG Maker user game ever) starts with a girl being told to strut her stuff in front of "important dignitaries" in order to improve her kingdom's trade relations. Emphasis on relations. The protagonist is Maia, an image-obsessed young princess who spends so long doing her make up in the opening cutscene that we seriously thought game had crashed.

It really dosen't, Maia.

Maia is told to go see her father, the king, who needs someone to travel to the neighboring nation of Yatari and prevent a war. Since all the dignitaries present decline to do it for various reasons (one guy says he's "allergic to Yatari food"), Maia volunteers to go there and "smooth things over." The way this is presented almost makes it sound like the start of a 16-bit porno. Fueling that impression is the fact that, if you snoop around the king's library, you'll find a flyer directing you to a website hosting what sure looks like erotic Final Fantasy VI fan fiction (we didn't read enough of it to find out for sure).

But, for better or worse, you never get to that part. After fighting some generic monsters in a field, you reach the city of Meese, which can be thought of as a sort of social commentary on recent changes in industry and commerce. We know this because as soon as you step in, someone comes up to you and says:

In Meese, Maia finds overpriced item shops on one side of town and people begging for money and complaining about the busted sewage system on the other (wonder what that's supposed to be commentary for?). There's also a guy who gives you a random series of directions with no context, which suggests this town might have a mental health problem, too. While on the poor side, Maia has to fight off a pack of "gangstas," who are represented as four-armed swordsmen wearing robes because this game has no "guy with baggy pants and du rag holding a machine gun" sprite.

Maia finds out that there's been a rockslide just outside of town, which means that in order to progress you have to retrieve some dynamite from a warehouse. Unfortunately, that warehouse also happens to be the place where this town stores all of its monsters and RPG enemies. Before going in, a dick named Kyle (such a far-out fantasy name) joins your party without asking because "a pretty lady like you" has no business going there alone. This game would be 1998's GOTY if you could just kick Kyle in the nads and leave him there, but sadly you're given no choice but to put up with his ass.

(Thank goodness this game's graphics aren't detailed enough to make it obvious if one of the characters has a boner.)

The "warehouse" turns out to be big dungeon that has to be navigated in a specific order, otherwise you activate the "security system" and get kicked back to the beginning. Once you figure out that you need to follow the directions that random guy in the town gave you (sorry for doubting your mental state, random guy) the main problem becomes that this poorly-kept building is infested with an enemy type called "TURD." You can't take two steps without stepping on a turd. As if dealing with Kyle wasn't bad enough.

Early on in the dungeon, you get a glimpse of a treasure chest at the other side of a wall. After a while fighting turds and other enemies, you can reach that chest, open it, and find your reward for all that effort: poison gas. Now, on top of all the turds and Kyle, you're also poisoned, which means you'll be taking damage with every other step and the dungeon will be unwinnable unless you're playing in dev mode and have infinite health. Even so, the screen-flashing "poison" effect is so annoying that you'll wish you could die. Hope you made a save state before spending the past half hour punching turds!

Three floors into this deadly, no doubt foul-smelling dungeon, you run into a human character who's just chilling there. It turns out he's the brother of a beggar who asked you for money in the town. If you gave the beggar money, his bro, who apparently has magic powers, will completely restore your HP and MP, remove any "bad status," and even let you save your game. We didn't feel like making a new save and replaying the entire dungeon to find out what happens if you cheap out, but RPG genre conventions lead us to assume that he turns into some sort of muscular demon who deals 9999 damage.

After that, you finally reach the dungeon's boss: a blue guy named "Medulla" who spouts gibberish words at you (presumably meaning "What did you do to my precious turd collection?!"). If you best him, he drops the dynamite you came here to collect and, at last, you get to clear the way out of the town! And then...

...nothing happens. There's no exit behind the "rocks" (which actually looked remarkably like barrels). In fact, if you use dev mode to get to the other side of this town in the overworld map, it's all empty. This is as far as RPG Advocate made the game. You got your hands dirty, in the worst possible sense, for nothing.

According to his Makerpendium wiki page (WARNING: German), RPG Advocate was a polarizing figure in the community who on the one hand helped translate various RPG Maker titles, but on the other was kind of a dick (was Kyle a self-insert character?). It seems that this SNES demo evolved into a PC game called Phylomortis: Atonement Gaiden, which later got two sequels called Psychopoltical Drama Phylomortis II: Triumvirate of Dystopia and Phylomortis: Avant Garde. Based on the gameplay available on YouTube, they are about as intelligible as their titles suggest. But Maia is in them, so we're glad to know she eventually made it out of that shitty town.

"Daxara" by Adol (05-16-198)

Original description: Geren travels from Castle Harmony to learn of the origin of appearing monsters who are robbing the world's Shards in order to end it.

Like 40% of RPG Maker games from this era, this one starts with a knight being told he has to go talk to the king, who is a kind man. We know this because not one but two people tell you "The king is a kind man," though they're both within the king's earshot so there's a chance they're only saying that to avoid being shackled in a dungeon.

King Kind tells you that someone has attacked a shrine for unknown reasons, so you need to go there and find out what the hell. As you leave the castle, some lady named Sarah says she heard about your mission and asks to come along with you, because she's just very passionate about shrine-related crimes, we guess. If you say "Yes," she joins your party. If you say "No," she also joins your party, but first she says "You're such a funny guy!" Way to be a Kyle, Sarah.

Once you reach the shrine, you run into enemies like "Thing," which look exactly like red turds (please consult a physician if this happens to you), and "Batling," which suck. That's their power: they suck.

There are a few chests around the shrine, some of which contain an item called "fluid" that you probably shouldn't be touching with your bare hands. Soon, you reach the end of shrine and find the mysterious attacker: it's some sort of dog-person called "?" who says you're too late, because his minions have already stolen the Shard that was in this shrine and will use it to "destroy this pitiful world!" Oh no! If only you hadn't been delayed by Sarah... is she an agent of "?"?

Anyway, once you fight dog-person "?" he suddenly becomes a fish-person called "Sinister." We are already witnessing the fabric of reality disintegrating due to his meddling with the kind king's shrine Shard.

If you manage to defeat Sinister ? the Dog-Fish-Person, he drops some more fluid (ewww) and some flesh that you're supposed to show the king as proof that you killed him. Does the king distrust you so much that he forces you to carry around the decomposing flesh of his enemies as proof? That's very unkind of him. The worst part is that once you get back to the king, he doesn't even acknowledge all the bloody flesh you brought him. Instead, he sends you to another town to deliver a note to some sort of mythical being named "Colin."

That sounds like a pretty urgent mission. So, naturally, as soon as you reach the other town, you get distracted by side missions. For instance, one guy tells you that "strange things" have taken over his basement, which is bad because that's where he keeps all of his coffins. If you agree to go into the coffin collector's basement, he says "You won't regret this!" Then you go down and instantly get ambushed by sworded skeletons that can kill you with one blow.

So that was a lie.

Once you decide to move on with the game, you can talk to Colin, who tells you that the rest of your epic adventure awaits on the other side of a door and gives you an item called "Colinkey." You might think you can use the Colinkey to open the Colindoor, but nope. You can't do shit. This is where the game unceremoniously ends: with a closed door and the disquieting certainty that you will never know what's on the other side. (Unless you check with dev move, in which case you learn that it's "some unfinished maps.")

"Forever..." by Kypdev (05-17-1998)

Original description: A boy heads off on a series of quests.

In this one, they don't even have to tell you to go talk to the king. Your character, Kyp, wakes up in his bed saying "Damnit! I am late!" and you instinctively know that the thing he's late for is going to talk to the king. Note that Kyp is so manly that he sleeps in his armor.

Before leaving the house, you can talk to your family: your mom, who tells you to dress warmly for your mission (I'm wearing clothes over an armor, mom), your dad, who wishes he could join you but says his adventuring days are over, your cat and dog, who bark and meow at you respectively, and your baby sibling, who magically vanishes as soon as your mom exits the room.

There's a church next to your house, and if you go in (maybe to seek solace for the sudden disappearance of your little brother or sister) the minister will confess to you that he isn't really religious. He's just in it for those sweet minister bucks and the tax-exempt status.

There's also a bar, and if you enter it you'll find that your dad has gone there to drown his sorrows and is already shitfaced. Now you have to live with the shame of being related to such a freaking lightweight.

The most sordid part of all this is that if you talk to the bartender, he'll tell you to "have a drink," even though everyone knows that alcoholism has a genetic component. Also, uh, doesn't the game's description refer to Kyp as a "boy"? He's just very bulky on account of carrying an armor around all day.

Anyway, after fighting generic monsters in a field, you reach the castle and... hmm, what was it you were supposed to do here? Let's see if anyone around can remind you:

Something tells us we're supposed to talk to the queen. Once you do, she says "Please talk to the king," so you do that too, since she asked nicely. The king, in turn, asks: "Wilst thou aid my kingdom and bring peace?" If you say "No" (maybe you'd rather investigate the case of the magical disappearing baby), he tells you to "Leave mine eyes, coward!" but he must be suffering from dementia because if you talk to him again, he'll greet you like the first time and ask the same thing. If you say "Yes," he tells you to... talk to the queen.

Kinda feel like we're getting jerked around here.

The queen informs you that thy task, should thy choose to accept it, is to rescue their daughter from a rogue knight. To begin the quest, she asks you to go search in a specific tombstone in the castle's cemetery, which would suggest that perhaps we're a bit too late to save the princess. But, before doing that, let's see what the diverse cast of characters has to say now:

After maximizing your luck stat, you go check out that tombstone the queen mentioned, which is actually the entrance to an underground passage leading to the island where the princessnapper lives in a tower. Upon climbing the tower you get to confront the evil Misaka, who laughs at you and calls you a child. Yeah, a booze-drinking, armor-wearing child who's about to kick your ass.

Misaka doesn't take being defeated by a muscular little boy very well. In fact, he's so embarrassed that he makes like a baby and vanishes.

The princess, Dana, is so thankful for being rescued that she magnanimously announces she's joining you on your quest. Wait, wasn't your quest to rescue her? That's not so magnanimous then. By the way, if you get tired walking up and down the tower, for merely 1G you and Dana can curl up inside a talking pot that somehow serves as an inn. A tempting offer, but we passed on the chance to spend the night together Chavo del Ocho style.

So, what's the game gonna be about now that you retrieved the princess? Nothing, because once you go back through the underground passage, you get a message saying "end of beta," followed by RPG Maker 2's default end credits sequence. We can find no evidence of Kypdev developing any further versions of this game, or any game. He's just Kyp now, presumably.

Did you know you can only insert 30 images in a Tumblr post? We didn't until now, so... to be continued in another post, which will hopefully take less than 26 years this time.

[shatterinseconds]

future, continued

Julance ‘23: week 4

Lance wakes up early one morning to find Keith training. The sun starts to tip over the horizon, early morning rays dancing across the ocean. Keith performs the typical hand combat training maneuvers he used to do on the castle-ship by himself, mostly late at night, and even then Lance would often find himself settling into the training room to watch, unable to sleep as well.

Lance perches himself on rock; his bare feet slide into the sand, covering up the bottom of his sweatpants. “The war’s been over for a year. It’s alright if you want to sleep late some days,” he says loud enough for Keith to hear him over the waves and seagulls. It was Keith’s idea to find a small cottage on the water, despite the fact that they do work in space more than half the year, and Lance couldn’t be happier about the location. 

Keith stops immediately, retracting from his stance. He rolls his shoulders as he looks at Lance unamused but there’s a slight quirk to his lips that Lance can see—that Lance can always see. “You know, you can just say you want to join me.”

“But that would be too easy.”

Rolling his eyes, Keith gestures. “Come on.”

Lance grins as he hops off the rock.

They don’t hold back their punches. War taught them to never show restraint even during practice. Despite the threat of battle having long since ended, it continues to take root in their bones. Maybe it will forever. A terrible souvenir really.

Keith counters his moves with practiced ease but still meets the challenge each other presents. They kick up sand as Lance blocks a punch and sidesteps a whirling kick to the ribs. Over the years they have become more evenly matched in hand-to-hand. It makes their sparring sessions much more exciting—less of Lance getting his ass handed to him after a meesely two seconds and more of actually having a chance to win, though still rarely.

Lance runs up a sand dune and back flips over Keith. Landing softly in the sand, he catches Keith, who spins around a second too late, and kicks his legs out from under him. Falling with him, Lance straddles Keith’s waist before he has the chance to stand back up. 

Whether because he’d already been training before Lance arrived or because they don’t need to sharpen their skills anymore, Keith doesn’t try to buck Lance off. Instead, he smiles in defeat—a sight that a few years ago may have rung alarm bells in Lance’s head, wondering what kind of deceptive tactic this was. But now he knows it’s more about wanting to head back home to have a proper breakfast and not waste their entire morning in the sand dunes. 

Chest heaving, Lance brushes back his sweaty curls and looks at Keith delight. He’s sprawled on the sand, just as wrecked as Lance is. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his pale skin flushed from the exercise and the sun.

“You have sand in your hair.” Lance brushes Keith’s bangs away from his eyes and traces the burn scar cutting up from his jaw.

Arching an eyebrow, Keith slides his hands up Lance’s thighs. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” Lance answers immediately. “You never watch your left side.”

“It’s the only way you can beat me.”

“You mean taking advantage of your one weakness? I take pride in that. Don’t ruin this for me.”

Keith laughs, a full belly one that even Lance can feel. He wraps his arms around Lance’s neck to pull himself up slightly and kisses Lance the best he can. Lance thinks of a time when he didn’t believe he could have this, when he couldn’t be certain whether they would survive at all.

And now he’s married and owns a home and realizes that—

“We made it,” Lance says when they break apart. All of them made it, their entire team. He slowly opens his eyes to find Keith with a soft smile on his face, understanding. 

“We did.”

[bucketspammer4life]

I was gonna suggest a cryptid AU were all the boxers are mythical creatures from their country of origin (Like Joe being a tatzelwurm or matagot, Aran being a puca, and Don being a oricuerno etc. Little Mac is just a human who joined the wrong boxing league.)

But now I kinda wanna hear about a Winx or general fairy type AU.

im sorry but i cant get the "she was a fairy" sound out of my head aughhhhhghgggh, fairy au hcs below

Glass joe - small fairy that keeps getting mistaked for a butterfly, guides people to safety away from danger when needed

Von Kaiser - somewhat smaller than average fairy that usually spooks kids who misbehave (not doing chores, not listening to your parents, not eating healthy)

Disco Kid - normal sized fairy that just dances around to cheer up people, has a large swarm of fireflies around him

King Hippo - normal sized fairy that brings good harvests to people who need it & steals crops from people who dont deserve it (by that i mean being generally bad)

Piston Hondo - another normal sized fairy that scares bad people into being good (people who litter, bullies, mean people) think of him as a upgraded Kaiser

Bear Hugger - normal sized fairy that will send a squirrel after you as a warning when you litter, if you keep it up he'll eventually send a entire ass bear to your doorstep, And it you somehow keep that up he turns your house into a animal sanctuary by filling it with birds, bears, meese, geese, cheese and BEEES!!

Great Tiger - somewhat smaller than average fairy that sings to warn people about the others, how bear hugger will send a bear to your house if you litter, how glass joe means no harm and how King Hippo will steal your crops if youre a dickhead

Don Flamenco - normal sized fairy that steals hearts (and names) by flirting with those out to get him, usually hides out in a tree trunk and will come out to help people get with their crush

Aran Ryan - small fairy that likes causing havoc, even being near him causes people to feel dizzy, hes that much of a problem, he'll steal your crops for fun, kidnap your livestock for shits and giggles along with chucking you in a lake if you piss him off

Soda Popinski - normal sized fairy that comes out during the winter to keep people who get lost safe, will usually guide them to their house, a shelter or somewhere warm

Bald Bull - normal sized fairy that does not want you near his territory, usually warns people by wrecking & twisting trees to the point where it looks like someone took a bite out of it, if you somehow dont back off he'll put a curse on you or make your livestock ill

Super Macho Man - normal sized fairy that appears to people who are too obsessed with their appearance and annoys them out of it by being more obsessed about his appearance to make them realize how dumb they sound, can and will steal any mirrors to look at himself

Mr Sandman - bigger than average fairy that appears to protect people who are in danger, usually putting a curse on the attacker and guiding them to safety, usually scares off the threat since hes tall as fuck

[gloria-van-puncake]

The Translator

Teen And Up Audiences

Fandoms:

Star Wars - All Media Types

Star Wars: Rebels

Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)

Relationship: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto

Summary:

Set after the Rebel's finale. Sabine and Ahsoka are preparing to search the Unknown Regions for Ezra and clearly, they need a translator. Who better than Eli who's, in turn, searching for Thrawn.

Unashamed fix-it fic for what has not yet happened in the coming Ahsoka TV-Series.

Eli tugged at his civilian clothes, trying to make himself look presentable, as he entered the cantina. It'd been a while since he'd worn anything but one uniform or another and it was not helping him feel at ease.

He recognized the Togruta sitting at a table in the back. Ahsoka Tano, Jedi turned Rebellion leader. Finding info on Tano had not been easy, not with the Empire gone and with it most of his contacts and resources. From what he'd been able to find it didn't seem like Tano had Second Sight but Vah'nya had warned him that she could probably use the Force to read his intentions. Eli took a deep breath, he could do this. For Thrawn, he could do this.

"Greetings," Eli said, playing up his Wild Space accent; anything that would set him apart from Imperial Center. His accent wasn't a lie. There was an 8 in 10 chance that he'd be able to fool her if he stuck to the truth, the creatively edited truth. If there was no outright deception she wouldn't be able to sense it. Hopefully, Vah'nya was right about that.

"I heard y'all are looking for a translator going into the Unknown Regions?"

"We do," the Mandalorian standing behind Tano said, arms crossed in front of her chest - Sabine Wren his memory supplied, Lothal Rebels - looking him up and down. "Which languages do you speak?"

"I speak quite a few but for where y'all going Sy Bisti, Lioaoi and Taarja will be most useful," Eli explained, running his hand through his hair in thought. "I also speak Meese Caulf and Bocce but you could get a droid for that."

"I've never heard of some of those, where did you learn them?" Sabine was tired. She wanted a hot bath and a drink, not necessarily in that order. They'd been interviewing potential candidates for hours but according to Ahsoka none of them had been 'the one'. It wasn't that she didn't believe in the Force, she'd lived among Jedi for long enough to know that it was real alright but right now what it mostly was was a real pain in the ass.

"I'm from Wild Space," the man, he had to be in his mid-thirties, said patiently as if that wasn't obvious from his accent. "My parents own a small shipping company; you pick stuff up when you're around traders from all over, ma'am."

Eli eyed Wren wearily, he'd heard about her part in the  liberation  of Lothal, how they'd blown up the Academy with everyone in it. Trusting her felt like a gamble but he didn't have much of a choice if he wanted to find Thrawn. The fall of the Empire had come as a surprise to the Ascendancy and reinforced Supreme Admiral Ar'alani's conviction that bringing Thrawn home once and for all was the best option they had. The New Republic was still too weak and needed to be watched before a potential alliance could be offered.  

"What's your name?" Tano asked, and Eli wondered if the shiver he felt running down his back was her using the Force on him or just nerves.

"You can call me Ivant," Eli said, sticking as closely to the truth as he could. He'd been Ivant for nearly a decade now, surely that counted.

He'd read about the war trials on the Holonet and the rewards that were still out for high-ranking Imperial officers. He'd have to be very careful. Really, really careful. If he got himself captured and executed for what had happened at Batonn he'd be of no use to Thrawn, quite the contrary.

"What kind of cargo would you be transporting?" Eli asked, testing their honesty in return. He was fully aware of their mission but he wanted to see what they'd tell him.

Sabine and Ahsoka shared a glance. Surprisingly he'd been the first to ask that question.

"That's on a need to know --" Sabine started but Ahoska held up her hand, interjecting.

"He's the one," Ahsoka said with that sometimes infuriating certainty Force-users had about them that more often than not grated on Sabine's nerves.

"You sure?" Sabine asked, narrowing her eyes at Ahsoka. There was something not quite right about Ivant; his clothes were too new, and his posture was a bit too rigid, too formal. Like he wanted to stand to attention but was trying not to. She'd seen this with many of the Imp defectors during her days in the Rebellion. He didn't ping her as definitely Imperial but there was something military about him and she wasn't sure he'd not been making stuff up about at least one of the languages he claimed to speak.

"Yes, I can feel it in the Force. We need him," Ahsoka reassured her.

"We're not traders, we're on a rescue mission," Sabine explained, deciding to trust Ahsoka in this. "Welcome to the crew, Ivant."

Chapter 2

Three months later.

"Ivant!" Wren shouted excitedly, asking him to come and join them in the cockpit the second they'd dropped out of hyperspace. "You have to see this!"

"What?" This better not be another pod of kriffin purrgil, Eli thought sourly as he got up from his bunk. They'd been following the creatures around for the better part of three months, from one backwater planet to another. That those creatures had somehow managed to make the whole Seventh Fleet disappear creeped Eli out; they were another Wild Space myth come to life and this one he could do without.

Eli tugged his questis away into the inside pocket of his jacket and made his way over to the viewport. What he saw made his stomach drop in dread. The ISD Chimaera hung dead and dark in space. No. Please, no. He'd come this far –

He pressed his hand against the transparisteel, trying not to give in to despair. They couldn't all be dead, could they? Faro, Hammerly, Agral, – Thrawn.

Eli stood silently contemplating the fate of the over 30 000 personnel that would have been on board. Friends, colleagues, people he'd once served alongside. The excited chatter from the cockpit painfully reminded him that, despite the easy camaraderie they'd settled into during their time traveling together, just what side Tano and Wren were on and what would happen to him if they found out who he really was.

Tano piloted their ship closer to the Chimaera and to his relief Eli noticed faint lights in the superstructure. Maybe, just maybe, not all was lost. Maybe Thrawn was still alive. If anyone could survive this it was Thrawn. Eli had to cling to that hope. He'd spent his off time reading up on the fall of the Empire and sending reports back to Ar'alani whenever the opportunity presented itself. It nagged at him, in the back of his mind, when he tossed and turned, unable to sleep, that he and Thrawn both would have been on that Death Star if events had played out just the tiniest bit differently.

Pulling himself together, Eli took out his questis. He had a job to do. Not sure if they'd seen the lights but figuring that they would soon or later anyway, Eli ignored the excited chatter coming from where Wren and Tano were discussing their imminent success; something about feeling their friend in the Force. Unnoticed by either Tano or Wren, Eli keyed in their coordinates, transmitting them to Admiral Ar'alani. It was done. The CEDF would be here within a couple of hours, and everything else would hopefully fall into place too.

"Unknown ship, this is Commodore Faro of the ISD Chimaera, identify yourself." A familiar, and oh so welcome, voice addressed them over their comm.

"Well, kriff," Wren muttered but Eli's heart sang in excitement. If Faro was alive, then maybe there was hope that -

"This is captain Ria Talla of the Freighter Meiloorun. We've come to trade for local handicrafts," Sabine tried the by now familiar bluff. She hadn't expected anyone to be on board, not with the ship looking dead in the water. She should have known it was a trick and now that she was paying close attention she could make out pinpricks of light in the superstructure. Just their kriffing luck. Too bad the purrgil hadn't taken care of the Imps for them.

Good grief, Eli thought. Had this actually ever fooled anyone? Did they not realize that anyone on the Chimaera would recognize the Ghost on sight, even with its most recent paint job? They didn't have visuals on their comm but he could vividly imagine Faro narrowing her eyes at this krayt spit.

For a moment Eli wondered just how damaged the Chimaera was but then yep, there it was. Their ship jerked as the Chimaera's tractor beam pinned them in place.

"Want to try that again?" Faro prompted as the tractor beam slowly drew them in.

"This is neutral space, far outside the reach of the for- of the Empire. Under what authority do you detain us?" Sabine was seriously annoyed. After all these years they were this close to finding Ezra and somehow Thrawn's kriffing ship had survived the purrgil intact enough to give them trouble. But just how damaged was the Chimaera? Sabine could make out a patchwork of what looked to be recent repairs. The hull had deep gouges and the Chimaera's infamous paint job was missing where parts had been replaced but not repainted. If they were fully functional, surely they'd have returned years ago. Maybe they were bluffing.

"The planet Yihiri is under Imperial protection. We are authorized by the Yihiri Council of Elders to take any steps necessary to ensure the planet's safety. Identify yourself."

Just great, Sabine thought, another planet that needed their help getting rid of Imperial occupation. She keyed into the secure channel she had to Hera, requesting New Republic help. Even if they didn't manage to find Ezra, she couldn't leave these people to their fate. She'd seen what the Empire did to occupied worlds and worlds that defied their rule. What they had done to Mandalore-

"Can you break free?" Sabine asked Ahsoka, temporarily muting their comm. She really wished Hera was here. Not that Ahsoka was a bad pilot but she was no Hera and they could really use Hera's flying right now.

"Try breaking from the tractor beam again and we will shoot, is that clear?" Faro's voice had taken on an edge that meant she was deadly serious.

"Yeah, kriff that," Sabine muttered. "Ahsoka, any time now!"

The impact of a turbolaser shook the ship.

"Shields at 60%," Sabine warned.

Ahsoka pulled at the controls, trying to wrestle the Ghost free from the Chimaera's tractor beam.

Another turbolaser shot hit the Ghost.

"What do we do now?"

"Shields at 20%," Wren informed Tano.

"Stop, already," Eli snapped, pushing past Wren toward the comm controls. "The next hit is going breach our hull and kill us all."

"If they pull us in we're dead too," Wren snapped back. "Do you have any idea what they'll do to us if they capture us?"

Caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place Eli made a decision he hoped he'd not come to regret and snatched the comm control out of her hand. Not blowing his cover would mean nothing if he ended up dead in space because those kriffing rebels didn't know when to give up. "Don't shoot," Eli said into the comm, hoping that Faro would recognize, and more importantly, believe him. "Commodore Faro, this is Eli Vanto."

[walmart-the-official]

I don’t usually do asks but I see you on my dash all the time so did you know that a frequent predator of the moose is the killer whale. This is because moose can dive up to 5m down to feed on aquatic sea vegetation in the summer. Occasionally they get attacked by killer whales tho.

I knew that meese swim sometimes but u didn’t know they got killed by killer whales. That’s super interesting!!

[kadavernagh]

@honeysmokedham replied to your post “[sent from honeysmokedham3][pm] I can do this all...”:

[pm] Have you ever signed up for an email before? It's not hard. I mean that being thrown into a wall with an ear piercing scream hurt. Fuckin cool party trick. You ever think about starting a metal band? You'd be a hit. What is a Saol Eile? Is that the scientific name for a group of meese?

​[pm] You said you knew. You said you were the same. You showed me that you were the same. I don't know what game you're trying to play, but I'm not participating. Go back and tell them they cannot have me. I was never good enough anyw Tell them I am thriving here by myself.

[cmrosens]

Jennet, Jenny and Pinnie-Pen

A Folktale from Pagham-on-Sea

CONTEXT: This is a draft of a folktale that I wrote kind of in the style of a Sussex folktale with some dialect words but it's not written in full Sussex dialect! It's in THE FOLKLORE OF PAGHAM-ON-SEA VOLUME 1 which is 99p to buy, and contains more flash fic like this, folktales and urban legends from this fictional town. It's one of the eBooks you can buy in a bundle for £6 from my Ko-Fi shop right now!

You can also tip me here if you like it.

A folktale from Pagham-on-Sea, recorded by Rev. J. D. Allardyce (1904).

This tale was collected from Richard Pendle in the parish of St Mark’s, Pagham-on-Sea. Richard Pendle’s uncle, Thomas Pendle, was the gamekeeper of Fairwood House. Richard Pendle married Eleanor Hunderby of Barrow Farm in 1873.

This is a tale passed down by the Hunderbys of Barrow Farm, although since the disappearance of Eleanor in 1876 there has been great animosity between the two families, resulting in Richard Pendle’s estrangement from his own relations.

It was a rare event that I was able to speak with him, for he is a solitary man and greatly dislikes company. Richard Pendle was the last to bear the Pendle name: his three cousins, Beverley, Olive and Eileen, all took married names and bestowed these upon their numerous children, although their husbands are something of a mystery and there is no record of their marriages in the parish records.

~ Margin note for this tale by J. D. Allardyce

There’s a tale told of Barrow Field though no folk believe on it now, of the time Old Joss Hunderby went widdershins around the largest of the barrows there after a lamb, and before he knew what was what a door opened in the side and out of it he heard a strange sound like singing.

Old Joss he crossed hisself and said a prayer and peeped in at the door to see what it was all about, but before he could do any more it all went dark inside and a voice calls out,

Come horse, come cow, come small brown hen, Come Jennet, Jenny and Pinnie-Pen!

Well, Old Joss wondered what this was and thought it was the farisees and their little tricks, but he couldn’t move from the spot, it were like his legs were stuck together. He tried and tried and tried again but he couldn’t go back, and he couldn’t go left, and he couldn’t go right, but he could take a step further into the barrow. ‘If I can’t go back, and I can’t go left, and I can’t go right, I might as well go forwards,’ Old Joss thought, and he took a step inside the door.

There in the barrow Old Joss saw three figures, all strange-fashioned in the gloom, two with large heads, one with small, and all bundled up in old travelling clothes. He scratched his head and thought to sneak out another way, but the door closed and he was there with no way out, all in the dark tomb of stone with the grass growing tall over it. Well, Old Joss was afeared and he clutched at his smock, but it was no good now for what’s done is done and there’s no going back from it.

Then he heard the voice again, coming from one of the figures.

“Well Jennet,” said the one, “I heard the batfowlers last night in the woods, a-catching fowl. The fowl say beware the false feathers.”

“Well Jenny,” said another, “I heard the flittermouse last night in the fields, a-catching moths. The moths say beware the false lights.”

“Well Pinnie-Pen,” said the third, “I heard the kime last night in the hedgerow a-catching meese. The meese say beware the false smiles.”

Old Joss could take it no more: “And I heard the mawkin last night in the fields a-catching cold!” He burst out, “And I’ll not be a-listening to you no longer!” And with that he groped around the stones until he found the door again, and the three figures took down their hoods and stared at him behind their mummers’ masks, one with a horse-head, one with a cow-head, and one with the head of a small brown hen.

Well, Old Joss lay bethered after that, and for three long weeks he never stirred, until one night his son came in to say he had seen the strangest sight: marching down from the long barrow in Barrow Field at sunset was a troop of little men all scarce four inches high, and all wore fern-fronds in their caps that bobbed like feathers, and they made their way merrily down the road in procession, the lad following them at a distance to see where they might go, until they came to the grounds of the big house, and there they danced around the well in the garden. And the lad hid in the bushes and watched the little men dance, and as they danced strange lights like small dandelion puffs rose out of the well and danced with them, glowing like tiny pearls. And the lad watched and watched until one of the little men stopped dancing and called out, “I twets, do you twet?” and the lad couldn’t help but laugh – but laughing gave him away and the little men all scattered.

“You must beware the little men with their false feathers, false lights and false smiles,” Old Joss told his son, remembering the words he’d heard in the barrow. But the lad was curious and although he promised his father, he went back to the big house to hide in the bushes the following night to see if the little men would return.

Well, this time, the little men came back and danced with the lights around the well – and this time as before one stopped dancing, all out of breath, and cried out, “Puck! I twets, do you twet?” And as before the lad couldn’t help but laugh and give himself away.

But this time the leader of the little men came to the lad with a smile as long as a staff, and invited him to dance with them. “You little fluttergrub, hiding there in the dirt,” the little man said, “Come away with us, and we will fill your pockets with riches.”

Well, the lad was sorely tempted, and although he had promised his father, he soon found himself dancing with the little men, around and around and around the well, and then when he could dance no more they caught him up, some on his right leg, some on his left, and lifted him like he weighed no more than a sparrow, and they took him off down the road and back to the barrow where they came from, and the lad was heard of no more.

Old Joss got hisself out of bed to find his son, and went widdershins about the barrow again – but no little men did he find, only the darkness of the tomb and the stones, and the three misshapen figures, all dressed up to go travelling. And again he heard that voice saying,

Come horse, come cow, come small brown hen, Come Jennet, Jenny and Pinnie-Pen!

“I’ll give ye Jennet, Jenny and Pinnie-Pen!” Old Joss roared, and set about them with his cane, beside himself for the loss of his boy. “Give to me my child, you little devils!” And he set about to pull at the heads of the figures to see who was playing tricks. But as he pulled at them they fell all in a heap; for what he took to be mummers’ masks were no masks at all, and his fingers found the blood-stiff yarn stitches that sewed the heads to their necks.

And they found Old Joss fitting in Barrow Field and he died that same day, and they never found the boy, not ever, and they say there’s still lights in the well of the big house from time to time, and singing too, if you listen; but no one believes on such fancies nowadays and the Hunderbys sold off the field years back, and the long barrows lie asleep under grass and sun, and are filled with stone and silence and nothing more.

widdershins: anti-clockwise farisees: Sussex dialect for fairies batfowlers: bird-catchers with nets who go out at night flittermouse: bat kime: weasels meese: mice mawkin: scarecrow bethered: bedridden twets/twet: to sweat fluttergrub: a man who takes a delight in working about in the dirt, and getting into every possible mess

The whole box set of 3 novels, 2 short stories, 1 novella and 1 anthology of fictional folklore/urban legends from the setting of the novels/novella is available from my Ko-Fi shop for £6!

Downloads: epub and pdf format.

[dankusner]

Ann Richards’ Democratic National Convention keynote

"Thank you. Thank you very much. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

Buenas noches, mis amigos!

I am delighted to be here with you this evening, because after listening to George Bush all these years, I figured you needed to know what a real Texas accent sounds like.

Twelve years ago Barbara Jordan, another Texas woman, Barbara made the keynote address to this convention, and two women in 160 years is about par for the course.

But, if you give us a chance, we can perform.

After all, Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did.

She just did it backwards and in high heels.

I want to announce to this nation that in a little more than 100 days, the Reagan-Meese-Deaver-Nofziger-Poindexter-North-Weinberger-Watt-Gorsuch-Lavell-Stockman-Haig-Bork-Noriega-George Bush will be over.

You know, tonight I feel a little like I did when I played basketball in the eighth grade.

I thought I looked real cute in my uniform, and then I heard a boy yell from the bleachers, "Make that basket, bird legs."

And my greatest fear is that same guy is somewhere out there in the audience tonight, and he's going to cut me down to size.

Because where I grew up there wasn't much tolerance for self-importance — people who put on airs.

I was born during the Depression in a little comunity just outside Waco, and I grew up listening to Franklin Roosevelt on the radio.

Well, it was back then that I came to understand the small truths and the hardships that bind neighbors together.

Those were real people with real problems.

And they had real dreams about getting out of the Depression.

I can remember summer nights when we'd put down what we called a Baptist pallet, and we listened to the grown-ups talk.

I can still hear the sound of the dominoes clicking on the marble slab my daddy had found for a tabletop.

I can still hear the laughter of the men telling jokes you weren't supposed to hear, talking about how big that old buck deer was, — laughing about mama putting Clorox in the well when a frog fell in.

They talked about war and Washington and what this country needed — they talked straight talk, and it came from people who were living their lives as best they could.

And that's what we're gonna do tonight — we're going to tell how the cow ate the cabbage.

I got a letter last week from a young mother in Lorena, Tex., and I want to read part of it to you.

She writes, "Our worries go from payday to payday, just like millions of others, and we have two fairly decent incomes. "But I worry how I'm going to pay the rising car insurance and food.

"I pray my kids don't have a growth spurt from August to December so I don't have to buy new jeans. "We buy clothes at the budget stores and we have them fray, stretch in the first wash.

"We ponder and try to figure out how we're going to pay for college, and braces and tennis shoes. "We don't take vacations and we don't go out to eat.

"Please don't think me ungrateful; we have jobs and a nice place to live, and we're healthy.

"We're the people you see every day in the grocery stores. "We obey the laws, we pay our taxes, we fly our flags on holidays.

"And we plod along, trying to make it better for ourselves and our children and our parents. "We aren't vocal anymore. "I think maybe we're too tired.

"I believe that people like us are forgotten in America."

Well, of course you believe you're forgotten, because you have been.

This Republican Administration treats us as if we were pieces of a puzzle that can't fit together. They've tried to put us into compartments and separate us from each other.

Their political theory is "divide and conquer."

They've suggested time and time again that what is of interest to one group of Americans is not of interest to anyone else. We've been isolated, we've lumped into that sad phraseology called "special interests."

They've told farmers that they were selfish, that they would drive up food prices if they asked the Government to intervene on behalf of the family farm, and we watched farms go on the auction block while we bought food from foreign countries.

Well, that's wrong.

They told working mothers it's all their fault that families are falling apart because they had to go to work to keep their kids in jeans, tennis shoes and college. And they're wrong.

They told American labor they were trying to ruin free enterprise by asking for 60 days' notice of plant closings, and that's wrong.

And they told the auto indusry, and the steel indusry, and the timber industry, and the oil industry, companies being threatened by foreign products flooding this country, that you're protectionist if you think the Government should enforce our trade laws. And that is wrong.

When they belittle us for demanding clean air and clean water, for trying to save the oceans and the ozone layer, that's wrong.

No wonder we feel isolated, and confused. We want answers, and their answer is that something is wrong with you.

Well, nothing's wrong with you — nothing wrong with you that you can't fix in November.

We've been told — we've been told that the interests of the South and Southwest are not the same interests as the North and the Northeast. They pit one group against the other. They've divided this country. And in our isolation we think government isn't going to help us, and we're alone in our feelings — we feel forgotten.

Well the fact is, we're not an isolated piece of their puzzle. We are one nation, we are the United States of America!

Now we Democrats believe that America is still the country of fair play, that we can come out of a small town or a poor neighborhood and have the same chance as anyone else, and it doesn't matter whether we are black or Hispanic, or disabled or women.

We believe that America is a country where small-business owners must succeed because they are the bedrock, backbone, of our economy.

We believe that our kids deserve good day care and public schools.

We believe our kids deserve public schools where students can learn and teachers can teach.

And we want to believe that our parents will have a good retirement — and that we will too.

We Democrats believe that Social Security is a pact that cannot be broken. We want to believe that we can live out our lives without the terrible fear that an illness is going to bankrupt us and our children.

We Democrats believe that America can overcome any problem, including the dreaded disease called AIDS. We believe that America is still a country where there is more to life than just a constant struggle for money. And we believe that America must have leaders who show us that our struggles amount to something and contribute to something larger, leaders who want us to be all that we can be.

We want leaders like Jesse Jackson.

Jesse Jackson is a leader and a teacher who can open our hearts and open our minds and stir our very souls. He's taught us that we are as good as our capacity for caring — caring about the drug problem, caring about crime, caring about education and caring about each other.

Now, in contrast, the greatest nation of the free world has had a leader for eight straight years that has pretended that he cannot hear our questions over the noise of the helicopter.

We know he doesn't want to answer. But we have a lot of questions. And when we get our questions asked, or there is a leak, or an investigation, the only answer we get is, "I don't know," or "I forgot."

But you wouldn't accept that answer from your children. I wouldn't. Don't tell me "you don't know" or "you forgot."

We're not going to have the America that we want until we elect leaders who are going to tell the truth — not most days, but every day.

Leaders who don't forget what they don't want to remember.

And for eight straight years George Bush hasn't displayed the slightest interest in anything we care about. And now that he's after a job that he can't get appointed to, he's like Columbus discovering America — he's found child care, he's found education.

Poor George, he can't help it — he was born with a silver foot in his mouth.

Well, no wonder — no wonder we can't figure it out — because the leadership of this nation is telling us one thing on TV and doing something entirely different.

They tell us — they tell us that they're fighting a war against terrorists. And then we find out that the White House is selling arms to the Ayatollah.

They tell us that they're fighting a war on drugs, and then people come on TV and testify that the C.I.A. and the D.E.A. and the F.B.I. knew they were flying drugs into America all along.

And they're negotiating with a dictator who is shoveling cocaine into this country like crazy.

I guess that's their Central American strategy.

Now they tell us that employment rates are great and that they're for equal opportunity, but we know it takes two paychecks to make ends meet today, when it used to take one, and the opportunity they're so proud of is low-wage, dead-end jobs.

And there is no major city in America where you cannot see homeless men sitting in parking lots holding signs that say, "I will work for food."

Now my friends, we really are at a crucial point in American history.

Under this Administration we have devoted our resources into making this country a military colossus, but we've let our economic lines of defense fall into disrepair.

The debt of this nation is greater than it has ever been in our history.

We fought a world war on less debt that the Republicans have built up in the last eight years.

It's kind of like that brother-in-law who drives a flashy new car but he's always borrowing money from you to make the payments.

But let's take what they are proudest of, that is their stand on defense. We Democrats are committed to a strong America. And, quite frankly, when our leaders say to us we need a new weapon system, our inclination is to say, "Well, they must be right."

But when we pay billions for planes that won't fly, billions for tanks that won't fire and billions for systems that won't work, that old dog won't hunt.

And you don't have to be from Waco to know that when the Pentagon makes crooks rich and doesn't make America strong, that it's a bum deal.

Now I'm going to tell you — I'm really glad that our young people missed the Depression and missed the great big war. But I do regret that they missed the leaders that I knew, leaders who told us when things were tough and that we'd have to sacrifice, and that these difficulties might last awhile.

They didn't tell us things were hard for us because we were different, or isolated, or special interests.

They brought us together and they gave us a sense of national purpose.

They gave us Social Security and they told us they were setting up a system where we could pay our own money in and when the time came for our retirement, we could take the money out.

People in rural areas were told that we deserved to have electric lights, and they were going to harness the energy that was necessary to give us electricity so that my grandmama didn't have to carry that coal oil lamp around.

And they told us that they were going to guarantee that when we put our money in the bank that the money was going to be there and it was going to be insured, they did not lie to us.

And I think that one of the saving graces of Democrats is that we are candid. We are straight talk. We tell people what we think.

And that tradition and those values live today in Michael Dukakis from Massachusetts.

Michael Dukakis knows that this country is on the edge of a great new era, that we're not afraid of change, that we're for thoughtful, truthful, strong leadership.

Behind his calm there's an impatience, to unify this country and to get on with the future.

His instincts are deeply American, they're tough and they're generous, and personally I have to tell you that I have never met a man who had a more remarkable sense of what is really important in life.

And then there's my friend and my teacher for many years, Senator Lloyd Bentsen.

And I couldn't be prouder, both as a Texan and as a Democrat, because Lloyd Bentsen understands America — from the barrios to the boardroom.

He knows how to bring us together, by regions, by economics, and by example. And he's already beaten George Bush once.

So when it comes right down to it, this election is a contest between those who are satisfied with what they have and those who know we can do better.

That's what this election is really all about.

It's about the American dream — those who want to keep it for the few, and those who know it must be nurtured and passed along.

I'm a grandmother now. And I have one nearly perfect granddaughter named Lily. And when I hold that grandbaby, I feel the continuity of life that unites us, that binds generation to generation, that ties us with each other.

And sometimes I spread that Baptist pallet out on the floor and Lily and I roll a ball back and forth.

And I think of all the families like mine, and like the one in Lorena, Tex., like the ones that nurture children all across America.

And as I look at Lily, I know that it is within families that we learn both the need to respect individual human dignity and to work together for our common good. Within our families, within our nation, it is the same.

And as I sit there, I wonder if she'll every grasp the changes I've seen in my life — if she'll ever believe that there was a time when blacks could not drink from public water fountains, when Hispanic children were punished for speaking Spanish in the public schools and women couldn't vote.

I think of all the political fights I've fought and all the compromises I've had to accept as part payment. And I think of all the small victories that have added up to national triumphs. And all the things that never would have happened and all the people who would have been left behind if we had not reasoned and fought and won those battles together.

And I will tell Lily that those triumphs were Democratic Party triumphs.

I want so much to tell Lily how far we've come, you and I. And as the ball rolls back and forth, I want to tell her how very lucky she is. That, for all of our differences, we are still the greatest nation on this good earth.

And our strength lies in the men and women who go to work every day, who struggle to balance their family and their jobs, and who should never, ever be forgotten.

I just hope that, like her grandparents and her great-grandparents before, Lily goes on to raise her kids with the promise that echoes in homes all across America: that we can do better.

And that's what this election is all about. Thank you very much."

​