#as small as stealing a single piece of cheese in a particular part of a particular building

[libertarian-druid-ny-separatist]

Gonna start streaming some Skyrim here in a bit hopefully, and unlike other streamers, my goal is to have a run that is chosen and essentially run by Tumblr users. Of course, being a tumblr user myself, this allows me to start the game fresh and ready whenever. However, once this post gets some notes with suggestions on what to do, I will sort through them and make decisions based on the notes entirely on this post.

This will all start the 16th of this month of April. Giving this post plenty of time to take off and give everyone a chance to be involved in it.

Keep in mind, you will control it all, character creation, decisions made, quests taken, major results of storylines, and even down to things like stealing a particular piece of cheese from a particular shelf in a particular building. As well as all the dlc. If you guys suggest it, I do it. And if only one person suggests it, I will do it. However, if two people counter a suggestion, I won't do it. That is the level of control you will have.

And the more reblogs this gets, the more suggestions I get for the stream, as a result, the more fucked up shit I will be forced to do. You could make my character build be an Ork Nord supremacist that ends up fighting for the imperials in the Civil War questline. For shits n gigs. Or you could make me reasonable and essentially just be a graybeard pacifist that only kills out of necessity. Or make me a Goblin Slayer knockoff with falmer.

Streaming whenever I'm able to and have the motivation to here On Twitch and when I have the channel set up, on YouTube. In the mean time I'll be streaming when I've got the time. But when I start streaming this actual plan, I'll have a regular schedule and be able to more often. However that's likely to be early morning so I'll need the youtube channel set up. Once I'm able to dual stream I'll end up doing that. Which may be sooner than I thought. I just need a new ssd for my old desktop as it turns out. So my needed pc budget just got brought down to about $300. I'll have that on Wednesday. And the new ssd in the following days. Sure, that's my spending money for the month, but that will bring me a lot of joy over the next few years so I'd consider it worthwhile. The local computer shop is unfortunately closed on Wednesday and Thursday, though honestly, good call for their workers' sanity.

So my question is,

[serene-victory-77]

The Rodent Whisperer Of Ketterdam

This is my piece for the Grishaverse Mini Bang of 2021, thank you to @grishaversebigbang for hosting this event! @offrostandflames 

My wonderful Materialki/Artists amazing and lovely pieces:

Frisslimbim’s Art and Instagram and Offrostandflames’ Art and Instagram

Summary: Kaz Brekker is known throughout the Barrel for his various schemes and skills. But there's one particular talent no one in his life is privy to, and it's going to help him get 30 million kruge. Crack Fic, Short And Sweet!

Fic:

Kaz walked away from the meeting with Jan Van Eck, his mind racing.

He’d accepted the deal, accepted 30 million kruge for breaking into the Ice Court and stealing a scientist with a drug that could change the world.

But Kaz wasn’t an idiot. It was too risky for humans, and only his best people could maybe do it. He didn’t like his chances.

There was no way he was gonna risk human error.

He hesitated. There was another option, but did he really want to instead use them?

Kaz thought about it for a long while as he made his way to the Slat. They were brave, they were many, and their relationship ran deep.

If he was being honest, they probably were his best, despite Jesper and Inej’s skill.

And humans…. Humans wouldn’t ever be able to succeed, he figured.

He knew what he had to do. He knew who he could trust.

Kaz closed the door behind him as Inej left the room. He looked around.

“Calling a meeting,” he said, tapping his cane thrice on the floor.

There was a rustle within the walls, the pitter patter of dozens upon dozens of feet. They came out of the walls, climbed through a cracked open window, found their place among the rafters and on top of his desk.

They were Kaz’s army, grown since he was nine and now an unknown force in his arsenal.

The Great Order Of Mice and The Virtuous Rat Society.

They named themselves.

He waited a little bit longer for them to all get settled.

“Thank you for your fast arrival,” he said, grabbing some cheese and crackers, as well as some bowls of water, setting them on a platter on the floor. “I have a big job for you all,”

The rodents chittered between themselves before looking up at him curiously.

He hesitated. “It involves leaving Ketterdam for a colder climate. It’s very dangerous. You might need the entire colony,”

The rodents stopped nibbling to stare at him. One of the bigger rats squeaked in confusion.

“Yes, I know, that’s a lot of you, and you guys aren’t used to being outside Ketterdam. But the reward is 30 million kruge ,”

The entire assembly went silent before wild squeaking ensued.

Kaz held up a hand. “Quiet, please, don’t alarm the Dregs,”

They calmed down again but all stood on their hind legs, nibbling their food while staring at him with wide eyes.

“I will tell you what it entails, and we can decide your reward if you agree. We’ll need to do some extra training to handle the colder weather, but that will wait a bit,”

They nodded, and Kaz settled down to explain what he could.

The briefing lasted two hours, and then the next night he had to go and break Helvar out of prison for more details to give to the army. They seemed to be in general good spirits about the entire thing, despite Kaz’s warning of danger and ice.

When he came back with all of the information he had gathered, including several small copied versions of the maps and diagrams Wylan had drawn, the real training began.

“No, the keys are going to be more complex than anything you see in the Barrel,” Kaz shook his head and laid out several old complicated door knobs and keyholes. “Show me how you’d open this,”

The rat squeaked determinedly and set to work.

“Even if you’re stealing from them, you can’t go around being sloppy,” Kaz frowned, straightening the bowties of a group of mice. The mice wore black ribbons, the rats gray, and The Council Of Rodents red. “I do not dress sloppy, and you shall not either. You are representing all Ketterdam rodents with this mission,”

They nodded seriously and let him adjust their ribbons.

“Make sure to take baths!” Kaz called after them once they were done. “You do not spread viral infections to other countries, alright!?”

Affirmative squeaks.

“It’s going to be cold, but your feet are grabby so we can’t cover them. You’re already used to Ketterdam cold, but this is different entirely,” Kaz warned them. “I tried finding some ice for you to practice on, and I’ve got...” he put several boxes atop his desk, “You guys some coats. There should be enough for all of you and are in different sizes, everyone in single file,”

The Council Of Rodents was following Kaz around town as they decided what treats he would be buying them with his share of the money.

He watched with hidden pride as the mice distracted the bakery shopkeeper and a group came from the left flank to pry open display cases and steal bread.

“They’ve come so far,” he whispered to one of the older rats that was standing on a ledge near Kaz’s head. It nodded in agreement.

A customer tried to bat away one of the rats with her purse, and a group of them jumped on her face in revenge.

“So far,” he nodded, pleased.

At the end of the week, in the hours before the sun had even risen over the sea’s horizon, Kaz stood at Fifth Harbor.

“Is everyone here?” he asked, looking over the crowd of rodents.

Two tardy mice ran from behind a shop and squeaked in apology.

“Alright, then. That ship over there is manned by someone who works for me. He has been instructed to leave you all alone and not bring a cat on board the ship. I’ve set aside barrels of cider, water, seeds, fruits, cheese, and crackers for you in the hold of the ship, so do not steal from the humans,”

One of the rats snickered and Kaz sighed. “Yes, I know I usually tell you to steal from the humans, but work with me here,”

They nodded.

“Does everyone have their maps?”

The rodents rummaged through their tiny leather pouches and waved their small maps at him.

“Weapons?”

Needles flew up into the air.

“No one is missing their coat?”

No negative squeak.

Kaz nodded. “Well, then, everyone. The ship departs in forty minutes. The journey will take a few weeks, and you’ll have to wait a while once you arrive. Do you remember what day you have to go to the Ice Court?”

Chitters confirmed they did.

Kaz took a deep breath. “Then, off to the boat with you. I trust I’ll be seeing you in two month’s time. No mourners,”

They squeaked back their best rendition of “No funerals,”, taking their individual time to pat his shoe in affirmance, and scrambled towards the boat.

Kaz stood and watched the boat until it departed.

As an extra safety measure, he ended up sending some guard crows to travel with the ship. Just being careful.

The great part about not sending humans to do your job is that people have a lot harder time figuring out which boat you’re going on, so Kaz had fun getting rid of the Black Tips that had failed to do any damage, as his army was already far out at sea.

Kaz had been training the rodents for a long time. He’d long since taken in stride that for some reason, not only could they understand him, but they could actually communicate back, and they were his secret weapon in everyday life. If things were too risky or complicated for Inej, he sent them to find out people’s secrets and bring back the information he used to control people like Geels.

He didn’t typically do big jobs with them though, they were too valuable to put in danger like that, but they were the only ones he could trust to really get the job done.

Still, despite his confidence in their abilities, he worried.

The next few weeks there were only about a couple dozen rodents from both the Order and Society, the ones that were either too young or too elderly to handle the trip, but they could still do work around Ketterdam, and news of what Jan Van Eck planned to do infuriated Kaz.

He wasn’t gonna not give his army their rewards, so while he waited for them to come back, he went about ruining lives.

Kaz found himself spending a lot of time with Wylan, Nina, Matthias, Jesper, and Inej the following weeks, one part because they were working on tearing down Wylan’s father, and one part because he had nothing else to do. The mouse and rats that were still there had taken to also watching Kaz’s companions.

He found a red fabric scrap and handed it to one of the mice, and later on, they came up to him, showing off the now rather dress-like piece.

“Who are you supposed to be, Nina?” he asked.

Affirmative squeak.

Kaz rolled his eyes and the mouse flicked their tail at him in contempt.

“Actually, you kind of have it down,” he noted, and the mouse sniffed haughtily before clambering away.

“Where’d you get that?” Kaz asked a rat playing with some gambling chips. “Better not be from the Crow Club,”

The rat showed him the Dime Lion insignia on the chips.

“Oh, you can always steal from them. But why the gambling chips?”

The rat twirled and did a little motion with its hands.

“Jesper? Really?”

He found a large, rather grumpy rat watching the Nina Mouse one day. He didn’t even have to wonder who that one was taking inspiration from, and instead handed Matthias Rat a piece of ice.

A small mouse had taken to stealing matches and trying to light small fires.

“You are not a demo expert,” Kaz told the mouse. “I don’t care how many hours you’ve spent watching the Merchling,”

The mouse squeaked sadly and Kaz frowned.

“Fine, you can mess with the matches, but have Jesper Rat watch over you,”

Wylan Mouse seemed to sigh but went with Jesper Rat anyway.

One of the smallest mice had taken to riding on Kaz’s shoulder whenever Kaz was walking the streets at night. At first, he’d wondered why, knowing he didn’t need to be watched over, but then he found that that mouse had been collecting needles, sharp metal bits, and even a small human-sized knife, and Inej Mouse was established.

A little longer than two months later, he stood on Fifth Harbor once more, the Five of Rodents waiting alongside him. A crow had arrived two days ago, with a note from the rodents that they were on their way, but complications had occurred.

He worried about numbers lost, or maybe that some of them had been imprisoned, but that wasn’t the result.

They came from the ship's hold like an ocean, carrying a small boy through pure willpower.

Kaz raised his eyebrows. “Welcome home, everyone. That doesn’t look like an old scientist to me,”

A group of them came forward, clambering over each other to explain what had happened.

“One at a time,” Kaz scolded, looking them over. It seemed that their numbers were almost intact. Clearly, some had been lost, but all in all, the casualties were minimal. He was relieved.

They explained what had happened, and Kaz sighed. Well, the old man was dead, but at least they had the son.

“Kuwei, was it?” he told the Shu boy. “Don’t speak to anyone about them,”

The boy just nodded nervously, looking more confused than anyone Kaz had ever seen.

A mouse piped up and Kaz turned incredulously. “You did what to Pekka Rollins?”

There was a gleeful chitter and Kaz smirked. “This is why I trust you guys,”

One of them asked about the reward.

“Yeah, I know,” Kaz told them. “Things got a little bit messy with Jan Van Eck, but now he’s in jail, and you guys have your own house fully stocked with food,”

A triumphant orchestra of squeaks filled the early Ketterdam morning, and Kaz grinned as the army ran onto the streets of the Barrel, pitter-pattering away.

--

[valarhalla]

Sumeria Questions for Avatarsymbolism 

1) since my main character was a wheat farmer, what sort of routine might he have had?

2) how did water irrigation work in sumer?

SO, to combine the first and second questions, I’m not sure of the actual mechanics of how the irrigation systems themselves worked, I’d have to look it up, but the important thing here, perhaps the single most important fact in Southern Mesopotamian Studies, is that Southern Mesopotamia is too dry to grow any sort of crop withOUT artificial irrigation. You can’t do it. Just going out and planting a field without it is impossible. Which makes it all the more amazing that it’s there that Eurasian civilisation got off the ground of all places, and it’s believed they’re connected- the prevailing theory is that the social organisation required for maintaining all these large-scale irrigation projects is what LED to the social stratification and invention of urbanism in the region.

So, on that note, irrigation work is going to be a MAJOR part of any Sumerian farmer’s life. He’s probably got a communal rota with his immediate neighbours if he lives in a small village, PLUS corvee labour for his landlord, city state or local temple, or possibly even all three. Money existed in the region at this point, but an average farmer probably didn’t encounter it much- his payment for temple labour (we THINK) would have been a grain ration in something called a Bevelled Rim Bowl. We’ve found thousands upon thousands of these in temples, and they’re all the exact same size, so they’re thought to have been for paying workers in grain rations. 

So there’s a bunch of texts that go into quite a lot of detail on daily life for farmers I could normally take some photos of for you, but I won’t have access to the book for the next few weeks at least. In the mean time, daily routine is hard to say, but a lot of aspects of agricultural life in this region haven’t changed much until a few decades ago, so you can probably extrapolate from recent accounts about life in Southern Iraq and not be far off. Something I remember is that there ARE a lot of mentions of wives bringing their husbands cold beer at the end of the day when they got back from the fields- it was probably cooled in something called a pot-in-pot refrigerator ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pot-in-pot_refrigerator ) and drunk through a straw. Heat in this region was and is extreme, so people start work at like 4 or 5 am, work until midday and then sleep in the afternoon, if they can. There’s a LOT more information I can give you once I have access to some of my books, but that’s a start.

approximately how big were summerian and assyrian armies and do you anything about how they were organized?

Ok, so there’s over a thousand year gap between the decline of Sumeria and the Assyrian Empire, so the two are basically chalk and cheese. Sumerian Warfare was… probably not as grand as we might picture it. Horses hadn’t been domesticated yet in the region, so rulers rode donkeys, if anything, or rode behind them in carts with wooden wheels that moved at about two miles an hour. Armies were probably a few hundred at MOST, mainly press-ganged, possibly corvee labourers again. The actual ruler probably did most of the commanding/general type stuff, since the armies weren’t very large. And the subject of the conflict was often those irrigation canals- the cities of Girsu and Lagash spent more than eight hundred years fighting back and forth for control of a single canal. There’s a famous piece of art called the Standard of Ur, which is thought to be a fairly realistic depiction of Sumerian warfare, armour and weapons.

(Look up Standard of Ur to see this bigger and in more detail).

By the time of the Assyrians, things had moved on, and the Assyrians really DID have vast earth-shaking armies of thousands fighting huge pitched battles. We know this, because, luckily for us, they produced photo-realistic wall reliefs of their wars and campaigns. And we know they’re photo-realistic because they’ve been corroborated by archaeological evidence- there’s one relief of a siege-ramp outside the city of Lachish, which archaeologists actually found pieces of, decades after the wall-relief was excavated from an Assyrian palace. Look up “Neo-Assyrian war reliefs” on google images, and you’re damn close to having a camera present at some of these events. A lot of what’s depicted is pretty similar to medieval siege warfare, with siege engines, archers, catapults, and ladders going over walls. Neo-Assyrian Warfare is a HUGE topic, so information on it is pretty readily available, if that’s what you’re going for- the British Museum did a big exhibition on it last year with lots of books published. 

4) would it make sense for my character to have eventually join the the army because of factors beyond his control?

YES (I’m actually so glad you asked this), because an absolutely incredibly piece of Sumerian literature called “In the Desert by the Early Grass”, which is a narrative about a mother trying to steal back her dead conscripted son from the underworld. It goes into a LOT of very unpleasant details about the son being quite literally dragged from his house and from his mother’s arms into joining the army, so this was very much a thing. It specifically mentions that shepherds and herders were at particular risk of being targeted, since they tended to work in remote areas outside of city defenses. Also at the end of the poem, the young conscript’s mother and sister are evicted from their home due to no longer having a male relative present to fulfill corvee labour requirements. Again, this text is in a book I don’t have access to and that I can’t currently find online, but it is very much a thing. 

Hope this helps! ;D

[borderlandscast]

the vault hunters go to ikea

takes place during the epilogue. this took a while because i have no idea how normal people behave when going to ikea.

after nanosounds ordered that deep clean crew, arsenal and his wonderful volunteers (i.e., any surviving bandit who didn’t want their stuff thrown out) made a list of everything that could be kept and not kept. they marie kondoed the frigate from top to bottom.

bandit construction is mostly dumpster diving, improvisation, fixing or stealing things from one another. so the vast majority of furniture within the frigate is junk and isn’t space-faring quality (that is, won’t hold together if it accidentally smashes into a wall during ascent or if someone takes a good swing at it).

fun fact: the only objects in vast quantity deemed to pass this test are the bunk beds within the common, shared troop quarters. however, all the mattresses and sheets had to be stripped down and carted off to be deep cleaned as well before anyone felt remotely comfortable using them. in fact, almost all of the mattresses and sheets were donated to the bandits staying behind. after the cleaning, of course.

runner-up objects are lockers, chests and storage containers. for obvious reasons, arsenal let his own troops claim what’s what but they had to do it in a non-violent way or else it goes to him or worse, parvis’ bandits.

when the frigate finally left pandora, the frigate was in short supply of multiple bits and pieces, almost all of them cosmetic. people slept on the floor, in cots or shared beds, even making cardboard box forts.

before undergoing repairs at the planet hecatoncheires, all spacekea furniture was able to be stored in vox’s digistruct system and popped back into place, no big deal. the captains also made another cleaning mandatory so that the repair crews couldn’t be impeded by anyone’s giant stash of snacks kept in a ceiling high locker.

anyway, arsenal gave everyone a thousand dollars (sponsored by sipsco.) and told them to ‘go nuts’ when they finally docked at spacekea. they’d dock for a week or so, and then leave. after that, future visits would have to be by special request.

spacekea is one of the joint markets that’s one of the only places in the galaxy that megacorporations share. all of them manufacture and sell some sort of commodity, not always furniture. for example, jakobs may produce the majority of generators but they also produce the widest range of wooden furniture. maliwan produces the ‘friendliest’ sourced tea and spices. tediore has the monopoly on one dollar items.

everybody bought a new mattress. and sheets, plus sheet covers. there’s a lot of neat designs (all of them owned by one company or other).

arsenal refused to buy a new couch, but he did buy two extendable children’s beds for his kraggons. having two kraggons trying to hog the same space on his bed is exhausting. hence, the beds.

the other reason why the frigate had to make a stop at spacekea is because some of the stuff being sold fills a particular niche called ‘holds plenty, good for tiny spaces’, given that the frigate is big but not exactly spacious in certain places.

martyn (who’s also the safety officer) had to veto a lot of the trophy and wall shelves since they post a safety hazard. he didn’t say no to paintings, holo frames or wall hangings though.

without a doubt, almost the whole frigate’s passengers ate at the cafeteria, every single day. and stocked up in bulk on the snacks and frozen food. this was one of the first stops they made, and everybody loves food that’s not pandoran. in fact, some of the bandits who’d been born on pandora and never left were trying to find their feet via food. they got hooked, very fast.

the frigate’s passengers all became very recognisable, very quickly. everybody has to wear a name tag identifying what ship they’re from for deliveries, troubleshooting, etc. it also meant that parvis’ literacy classes shot up in attendance a week beforehand.

the whole place is divided into multiple sections. first is the docks, which is divided up by ship size and function. thanks to daltos claiming the registration for the blackrock, the frigate enjoyed a cushy space close to the entrance. not many military ships dock at spacekea, so. and they got free parking due to the length of their stay.

sherlock had to give an orientation about spacekea. it‘s one of his best presentations, and his favourite. it was mostly about etiquette, since more than half the crew have never interacted with civilians before (with threats, murder and bloodshed not counting).

the docks are linked to the cafeteria, warehouses, display rooms, hotels and the market. instead of it all being laid out in one direction, the designers went with a much more helpful design: a four way, multi-leveled behemoth of interlocking buildings.

hotels are there to help people who flew smaller ships who intend on staying awhile, or families on vacation, or anybody who wants a bed to sleep in for a day. hotels are divided into classes, which range from five star to one star, even down to rentable capsules.

after the hotels (mostly arranged on the outside perimeter), people enter via main hallway. from here, omnidirectional lifts, elevators, escalators, turbolifts (only for express, staff or richer clientale) can take people to where they want to go.

the cafeteria serves up a massive menu that’s uniform to every spacekea. the menu boasts that there’s always something for someone. the hot dogs, soft serve, meatballs and desserts, to name a few, proved especially popular with the blackrock’s crew. rythian enjoyed the dairy free soft serve.

the display rooms are dioramas that are filled with sample living spaces designed to inspire ideas from those passing through the hallways. they all come with holographic clipboards, a catalogue and a pen. the pens are all chained to the clipboards to discourage theft.

how it works in theory is that if there’s a piece someone fancies, they jot down the item number, price, quantity and name so that they can pick it up at the warehouse or the market.

in reality, sherlock had to lead groups and track every single one of these clipboards since not every bandit could write legibly or in a decipherable manner. he’s never been so well-acquainted before with so many bandits until this moment. don’t worry, minty, hollie sparkles, parvis, ravs, daltos and arsenal helped him out, in shifts.

you can go into the dioramas and display rooms. this the crew did, in varying ways.

rythian wanted a king size bed since he’s tall. and he’s tired of having to make himself fit. also, ravs is buying for him. he also bought the highest grade book storage unit available, and a miniature hammock for junior.

ravs spent an hour testing the display bar, fermenting and barrel rooms, and had five different salespeople attending to him at once, owing to his manners and charming personality. he ended up buying a deluxe suite, and wrangled a fitting service for free since he’s buying so much in one go. he also bought a spacesaving bird loft/avairy for the pigeons and quails.

lalna and xephos spent three days alone in the tech section, pressure testing the hardware and systems in that area. people kept mistaking them for salespeople and customer service. they eventually got paid by spacekea because of their EFFICIENCY. both turned down offers of employment.

honeydew and nilesy performed an impressive interpretative dance within the kitchen and cat rooms. both are no pushovers when it comes to cooking and cat care, and nilesy has about fifty cats to house and entertain. nilesy also brought along lyndon (his own diamond kitten) to test items, and had to have honeydew with him to fend off people who wanted to interact with the kitten.

minty almost got kicked out because people thought thought she was a part of the displays since she kept putting her feet up on the desks. she found a desk she liked, and even bought the display one since she ‘felt a connection with it’, which didn’t impress sherlock when he had to sort it all out.

honeydew also took his gardening team on a serious quest to maintain the grass room and hydroponics (i.e., veggie patch). this took four days to complete from start to finish, involving picking out new turf, chairs, trees, benches, fences, pots and seedlings. the grass room looks like a proper grass room now, and not just a lone field of grass with a sad looking tree in the middle.

lomadia bought a small bed for her still to hatch egg. it was doll-sized, and a lot of people gave her strange looks for buying a bed specially for it, until she pulled out the incubator capsule to prove that she was serious about it.

zylus bought a chef grade bread machine. this daltos tried to prevent since he had deja vu about too much dough being made, and which zylus rebuffed. his premonition proved correct since the crew ended up eating bread for whole two weeks, and didn’t even mind.

daltos bought a portable, handheld hologram kit intended for engineering projects. it’s the one he carries around with him in the epilogue, used for tracking a ship’s condition and status. vox sends him stuff through it. he also secretly uses it to watch movies and a n i m e.

since parvis is staying with will, he tried to buy a water bed to replace his own shoddy bed/cot. will couldn’t stand all the wobbling and sloshing, and had to convince parvis to buy a different bed. parvis bought a fancy bed with hangings and velvet trim. will facepalmed. will also bought a handcrafted tie rack. parvis made fun of him. will bought five more just to own it.

saberial strongarmed panda into buying a lot more organisational stuff since their ship and room is obnoxious to hang out in, given their habit of leaving stuff lying about. panda sticks to organisation for about a month and then goes back to their own haphazard system.

hatfilms act out wine or cheese within the display rooms, which leads to security being called on them twice, one casting call by an agency and many applauds by passerbys. all of them end up in an advertisement, and get a buttload of free goods, mostly food.

lalnable kits out his medical office with an adjustable standing desk. lalna also buys one to be a copycat. lalna also buys one of those stuffed toy sharks. lalnable hates it because it’s so obtrusive to see.

sherlock buys a whole kit of stationary, shelves, boards and office goods. he spends the next month slowly integrating them into the offices. he’s the happiest he’s ever been. bandits dub him the best nerd.

nanosounds decides to renovate the home office in her mother’s place as a sign that she’s a good daughter, but decks the wallpaper and carpet in varying hues of purple. her mother is secretly thrilled by her independence and modern thinking.

teep just buys one of the best mattresses available, and nothing else. this drives all their friends nuts, who then spent the whole trip trying to convince teep to splurge. teep eventually buys...one black coffee from the cafeteria.

[the-cowgirl-bookworm]

Drunken Road Trips and Family Bonding

Chapter 5

Please Tell Us Why You Had to Hide Away For So Long

When Peter had shaken Yondu's shoulder early the next morning, saying he was going into town to pick up supplies, Yondu had sent him off with two rules before rolling over and going back to sleep. "Don't buy anything, yer still a Ravager idjit. And bring back some of what ever you Terrans got for booze, if yer gonna get soft again like last night I ain't goin' through it sober." Quill had rolled his eyes, pulling his Ravager coat over his shirt. It stood up to the elements, kept him warm, and had about fifty different pockets for stashing illegally obtained materials. Of course, not everything could fit in pockets, so he grabbed a collapsible repulsorlift and a Ravager tarp, modded to able to put up a decent camouflage.

While you couldn't count on Ravagers to have things like food or water on all their ships, they always had stealing supplies.

It was a ten mile trek to town, but it went quicker thanks to a few rocket boosted jumps. He stashed the lift at the edge of town, throwing the tarp over it, the camouflage activating as soon as it settled. The first thing Peter did was find a vending machine outside a gas station and shake loose a Coke. Even after twenty years, it still tasted the same. He tossed the can aside, jacked a full can, and set off farther into town. Ridgeton had always hovered between small town and small city, mom and pop stores right next to large sporting goods dealers. Peter approached one of those large sporting goods stores, the window displays stuffed full of hunting trophies.

It took him five seconds to jimmy the lock, then two to activate the jammer in his pocket. It would block any signals going out to security companies and render any security footage to mere static. Peter grabbed a cart, pulled out his earbuds, and set his Zune to play. He smiled, remembering how Yondu had shoved it into his hands before Stakar had come over to their ship, ready to welcome Yondu back after hearing about what he had done. Yondu had pressed the device into his hands, earbuds tangled around his fingers. "Saw ya lost yer Walkman. Found this at a junker's, she said everyone on Terra was usin' it." He'd hit the center button, the display lighting up. "We had a copy of yer music in the data banks, I transferred it for ya."

Peter had grasped it like a lifeline. "Well, not all of it. Ego smashed the second tape."

Yondu had snorted, shaking his head. "If you think we didn't scan and log every single thing in that little pack a yers," He just shook his head again. "It's all on there, plus about three hundred other songs."

Three hundred songs had left him speechless, as well as the fact that Yondu had actually done something kind for him without threatening to space him or eat him, when Stakar had grasped Yondu by the shoulders, making some proclamation about how Yondu had proven himself a true Ravager in the end, and if anyone wanted to dispute that, well, Stakar was one of the fastest draws in the galaxy and they were more than welcome to try.

Peter danced through the store, Mr. Blue Sky blasting in his ear drums, dragging a cart behind him. He threw in whatever he could find, high dollar fishing poles, hooks, line, enough camping supplies to last them a month. He made sure to grab two cans of bait, knowing Yondu might just eat a can of worms just because he was tired of fish. He even did his best to pick up gifts for everyone. For Drax, two massive serrated hunting knives. Gamora, a leather archery guard she could use to keep her sword hand from bleeding after getting blisters. As much as he wanted to, Rocket would probably not appreciate the stuffed raccoon, so he grabbed the little guy a collection of gun parts and candy. Turned out the raccoon had a sweet tooth, which they discovered after he had eaten every piece of Xandarian sugar puffs on the ship. Drax had almost strangled Rocket for that, stopped only by Gamora wanting to do it herself. He picked up a variety of animal plushes for Mantis, because God knows Ego hadn't given that girl enough things to hug in her life. Yondu was getting an absolutely adorable bobblehead of a mountain lion. Kraglin was getting a knife, the antler carved with a cool design. For Groot, a collection of these new fangled things called CD's that apparently held music. He thought Groot would really like one in particular, some band called Mouse Rat that sounded pretty good when he put it in a boom box.

For Nebula, well, he just picked her up some magazines. He didn't even really look at them as he dumped them in the cart. That was all the fishing stuff, but he would need more than that. He wanted enough Cokes to last him a life time, and enough ice cream that he could eat himself sick. Plus, what kind of camping didn't have s'mores? So before he pushed his ill gotten gains out of the shop, he opened the safe, which for someone used to cracking Kree lockboxes, was nothing. He pocketed the cash, then pushed his cart back to the repulsorlift. The futuristic wagon was pretty full, but he figured he could fit more in.

But the grocery stores wouldn't be open for hours, so Peter left everything under the tarp and made his way back into town. He figured he'd find someplace to hang until the stores opened up. He was figuring a stoop or a park, but then he saw something called an Internet cafe. There were already a few people headed in, sleepy eyed and groggy. He walked in, and the smell of coffee overcame him. Turns out you could get coffee pretty much anywhere nowadays, if the people in front of him were to be believed, but apparently this place was pretty good. He ordered a large, with enough creamer in it to make it more like a hot chocolate than a coffee. He listened in to a couple of guys as he waited for his coffee.

"I'm telling you, I saw a UFO last night. Came blasting down over my trailer, then set down in the forest somewhere."

"Jerry you got into your moonshine again, and we all know it. You were going on about chemtrails the last time, and you smelled like a damn still."

"Greg, I swear to God I wasn't drunk last night."

Chuckling and sipping his coffee, Peter made his way over to the row of computers set up against the wall. They were pretty primitive, no holograms but an actual glass display. He hadn't seen that since they landed on some planet that had yet to make contact with the Xandarians. Fortunately this Internet thing wasn't as hard to navigate as the Kree cyber service, which he'd have to have Kraglin crack for him once when Peter had his bounty tripled in Kree space after an incident with a Kree general's daughter that the general had blown completely out of proportion. Hell, the thing on this computer even opened up to something called a search engine. Of course, Peter being the smug self-absorbed asshole (Gamora's words, not his) that he was, he immediately searched his own name.

There were only a few results, but one caught Peter's eye, something from a cold case website. He clicked on it and started to read.

Twenty-five Years and Still Holding Out Hope

May 15th, 1988, was the worst day in Robert Quill's life. That night, his daughter Meredith passed away from an inoperable brain tumor and her son, Peter Jason Quill, disappeared. Robert contacted the police, but despite their efforts, they could not locate Peter. Now, twenty five years later, Robert has still not given up hope that Peter is out there somewhere. He invited our reporter to visit him, and we found his house filled with pictures of his children and grandchildren.

He keeps a picture of Meredith and Peter separate, set atop the mantle. It shows a beautiful brunette with an arm around a smiling five year old. Robert spoke briefly about his daughter, "She was always so loving. She loved that boy, even if his father didn't stick around. And he was a bit of a troublemaker, but he was a good boy."

Robert has searched for Peter ever since that day in 1988. He still hasn't given up hope. We have included a digitally aged picture of Peter Quill at the end of this article. We ask that our readers look for anyone matching this picture, and contact the tip line that Robert Quill has open.

There was a phone number listed at the bottom of the page, and Quill couldn't help but chuckle at the picture of "him". It looked nothing like him, rather chubby actually. But there was another picture farther up in the little article. His grandpa, standing by his fireplace and looking at the picture of Peter and his mom. Peter pursed his lips, then reached into his pocket, jotting down the phone number on his hand. There was nothing wrong with calling his Gramps and telling him he was still alive. He'd find a payphone after he got groceries, before he made his way back to their campsite.

He hung around the cafe for a bit, before heading out and finding himself in the midst of paradise. There was some new store here called Wal-Mart that was absolute heaven. Quill piled his cart there high with everything he could think of, spices, sweets, ice cream, marshmallows, a gross of Coke and twenty boxes of macaroni and cheese. He also found that movies were apparently on the same type of disc as music now. He grabbed everything he could recognize, Star Wars, the Princess Bride, Indiana Jones, and thinking of Yondu, a copy of Mary Poppins. It took most of the money he'd stolen, but he felt pretty good as he walked out of the store. There had to be some kind of tech on the ship that could read those weird discs, and he could finally show everyone what he had grown up with. But it turned out that finding food was easier than finding a payphone nowadays. Everyone seemed to have these somewhat bulky handheld comm units now, and when he'd asked a lady for a nearby payphone she had looked at him like he was crazy.

"Don't you have a cellphone?" She asked, already hurrying away.

Peter snorted. Did it look like he was carrying around a giant briefcase? It took him a little while to find someone who mentioned that there was an old payphone at the library. He pulled his cart in with him, dug out a couple quarters, and dialed the smudged number on his hand. It rang three times before going to a message machine, his grandfather speaking. "Hello, if you have any information relating to the disappearance of Peter Quill on May 15th, 1988, please leave your name, number and your information and we will get back to you."

There was a beep, Peter took a deep breath, and spoke. "Hi Gramps, it's me. Peter. Sorry I haven't called. Listen, I'm in Ridgeton, out at the lake you and me and mom would go to. I don't know how long I'll be here, a week, maybe? Anyway, I'm calling on a payphone, so I guess if you want, you can just come find me at the lake. So, um, bye." He hung up the phone, turning back to his cart. Even if his grandpa didn't come out, at least he'd know he was alive.

After he had made it back to his stash, he dumped everything into the repulsorlift, and set out on the much longer trip back.