#blackout tuesday

[speedbooster]

I feel so childish rn

I am so excited for Sonic X Shadow Generations that I can't sleep. Even though I pre-ordered the game physically for the journal, and the earliest I can go pick it up is 11...

It is currently 7 AM, and I'm lying in bed kicking my feet with anticipation because GOD I WANNA PLAY IT SO BAD!!

I'm glad I have other things to keep me busy because otherwise this would be the longest 4 hours of my life-

[c10v3r]

why r they like everything to me . whayt

[beefcakeink]

william vercetti

[etlu-yume]

Pro of bullet journalling: Keeping a better sense of the passage of time Cons of bullet journalling: what the fuck is today. What the fuck was yesterday. HeLP

[kickassclefable]

BLACKOUT

never eat tacos on tuesday again

the world is a cold place, full of rust and resentment. sickness and despair are carried by the wind and seep into the cracks of society. it was a hot day. the scorching sun baked the dying grass surrounding the isolated building with slightly grey peeling walls and covered with the smell of sweat and blood and dirt. the days pass endlessly slowly, dragging out in a wretched place, yet each…

[violent138]

Things people from Gotham find weird when they visit most other cities:

Lack of easily accessible propane grills (basically everyone in Gotham has one to deal with the power blackouts)

Landlords that actually fulfill repairs at some point (meaning a friend doesn't know how to do it themselves)

People don't religiously water their houseplants (in Gotham buying a houseplant might become a death sentence if Ivy finds out you're a murderer)

A lack of emergency supplies and first aid kits everywhere

Other people do not contemplate being covered in blood/condiments/clay during the day and don't routinely take extra clothes around

What would be considered another Tuesday in Gotham actually makes the news and a public figure does something about it

Strange absence of heroes popping out of the woodwork

The tap water is a normal colour and there is little to no risk that it's poisoned

[cleolinda]

The #RedditBlackout hashtag started trending on Twitter after the blackout began, with more than 4,238 tweets associated with the term as of Monday. Reddit was trending with more than 112,000 searches on the social media platform. Twitter users as early as 9 a.m. noticed that Reddit was experiencing technical issues. [...] Although the website resumed functioning almost two hours after the early reports of an outage, a coalition of Reddit moderators and users continue to engage in a standoff with the company Monday and Tuesday. More than 7,808 unique subreddits planned to participate in the blackout starting Monday, with the largest being r/funny, a community with more than 40 million users, according to an index by r/ModCoor. Around 7,260 subreddits are private as of Monday afternoon, according to a real-time stream of the protest on Twitch.

[fuck-customers]

L M A O

I think my boss is realizing way too late that she fucked up big time. Oh well. Not my problem.

My boss, to put it nicely, is stupid. She very obviously does not know how to run a store in any capacity. She does not schedule people for stocking or schedule an extra person for backup on regular days. Of course she's too stupid to think ahead for Black Friday week.

I worked yesterday (Tuesday) and we easily had triple the amount of customers we usually have. This did not surprise me at all, because I have a brain, but obviously my boss did not anticipate this and scheduled 2 people per shift and left when things were starting to get busy and screwed the lead over.

On the schedule, she scheduled shifts as if this were a normal week. 3 hour shifts, 1 cashier, 1 MOD, no backup. Obviously I saw that and immediately knew shit was gonna hit the fan in a big way. It must have hit a little earlier than I expected, because she's trying to call me to come in to my shift early. Nope. I will not. It's Wednesday before Thanksgiving and our store is closed for Thanksgiving. You should have put 2 and 2 together. You seemed to think scheduling me as the only cashier for one 3 hour shift was the right move, so I guess I'll just trust your judgment, huh? LMAO

The one thing I am grateful for is that for some reason, she had us give our availability for Thanksgiving week specifically. Which is odd, as usually these are blackout days, but whatever. I foresaw a shitshow and made myself unavailable on Black Friday weekend. I guarantee it will be a disaster. I'm kind of looking forward to hearing about it.

Posted by admin Rodney

[ddejavvu]

but like poly! with hangman and rooster though 🤤 the lingering touches, longing looks and sneaking off in and out of the base because the rest of the dagger squad is yet to know of your unconventional relationship with the twoㅡthough it's safe to say that they have the tiniest bit of clue; the taped picture of you in jake’s locker and the necklace of your initial that hangs alongside bradley’s dog tags that may or may not have caught a sliver of their prying eyes.

Natasha waits until both Mickey and Reuben have had their post-hangover breakfasts, buttered toast and a single scrambled egg to go easy on their stomachs. Last night had been wild, and she'd volunteered for designated driver to gather intel while everyone else got drunk. She'd let them wake up on their own time, but once they'd come down for breakfast, she'd decided to ask for their help. When they're downing the last of the orange juice she'd poured for them, she braces her chin in her hands, "Boys?"

They share a look, suspicious when they turn back to her. Reuben speaks first, "Uh oh. Is this why you were bein' so nice to us? You've got some evil plan going?"

"Evil plan," She scoffs, wiping a crumb off of their communal kitchen table, "Don't be so dramatic. I need your help."

"With what?" Mickey's brow wrinkles in a frown, "You're probably the strongest at the table, there's nothing in here you can't move by yourself."

"I need your help spying on Rooster," She informs them, "I think he's got a girlfriend."

Mickey's brow straightens itself out, soaring towards his hairline, "Girlfriend?"

"And I think it's one of the maintenance women on base."

"What makes you say that?" Reuben leans over the table towards her, eager to hear the gossip.

"He's got this necklace that he wears on top of his dog tags," She explains, it's got her initials on it. I know it could be someone else, but I saw a picture taped in his jet the other day, and it was of her. I think they're sneaking around or something."

"Woah!" Mickey snickers, "A picture in the jet? He's already gone. So what, he's keeping her a secret or something?"

"I don't know!" Phoenix urges, "That's what I want you to find out. Don't pry, just keep an eye out with me this next week. I've asked Bob to do the same."

"Will do, Phe," Reuben nods once, headache long forgotten at the prospect of a secret mission, "Fanboy and I'll have the juicy details in no time."

--

On Tuesday, Fanboy had caught a glimpse of your picture in Bradley's jet. Armed with your appearance, he'd described you to Payback, and the pair had scanned everyone in their vicinity until positively identifying you.

"That's her! That one," Fanboy points, glad that your back is turned so that you can't see the scene he's making, "That's Rooster's girl."

Feeling triumphant upon their discovery, the pair returned to Phoenix, announcing their victory. The trio had set out especially happy that Friday night, planning on getting Bradley blackout drunk and prying the answers out of him.

Friday night drinks are now a sacred ritual among the proudly proclaimed Dagger Squad, and it's not uncommon to see Jake perusing the patrons with one hand on his beer. He doesn't always stick around to play pool, but Bradly's bent over the table now, the necklace with your initials on the chain dangling low over the surface. Phoenix shares a sly grin with Fanboy and Payback over it, and notices Jake wandering off towards the bathrooms.

"Lucky guy," Coyote whistles lowly, "Have you seen the woman he's been messin' around with?"

"Bradley?" Phoenix's brows furrow, but Javy looks confused.

"No," He laughs cautiously, "Hangman. Rooster's got someone too?"

"Whatever," Phoenix shakes her head, "Doesn't matter. I pity the poor girl Jake's got."

Natasha makes it her business to get Rooster drunk, Fanboy and Payback holding back to question him once he's wasted. They're patient enough in their endeavors, sipping their own drinks in the meantime, but Fanboy excuses himself to the bathrooms while they wait.

He comes back entirely too fast, eyes blown wide and hands urgent where they wrap around both Phoenix's and Payback's wrists.

"Guys," He pants, "Get- come with me!"

"What- Hey!" Phoenix grunts as he yanks them off towards the other end of the bar, cringing when he heads straight for the men's bathroom, "Dude, whatever gross shit you found in there, I don't wanna see it!"

"It's not-" Fanboy shakes his head, speechless and gushing all at once, "Just look!"

He swings the door open so hard that it hits the tile on the wall. It also interrupts Jake, who's pressing someone up against the door of an open stall. Oh shit, he's pressing you up against the door of an open stall, his mouth hot and heavy on yours.

You stare wide-eyed at the three intruders, though perhaps if you wanted more privacy you could have let your boyfriend drag you into the supply room out back. It is a public bathroom, it just tends to stay empty except for couples hooking up.

Natasha's previously nice impression of you, only forged by the fact that one of her closest friends loved you enough to make you a permanent fixture in his jet, turns sour instantly. She can't imagine what Bradley will feel when she tells him you've been cheating on him, much less with Jake.

"Hangman," Payback's sharp voice cuts through the awkward silence of the bathroom, "What the hell are you doing, man?"

"I'm kissing my girlfriend," He drawls, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "Could you give us a little privacy, guys?"

"That's Bradley's girlfriend," Natasha narrows her eyes at you, "He's got a picture of you in his jet, and a necklace with your initials on it."

Your eyes widen slightly, and you murmur, "He's got a picture of me in his jet?"

Jake stares between you and Phoenix, watching as her face turns down in a disapproving frown, "Yeah, he does. He must really like you, and you're out here with someone else?"

"Oh-" You start, eyes widening along with Jake's, "No, it's not-"

"Oh, it's not what it looks like?" She interrupts, scoffing disgustedly, "Save it. Listen, I'm gonna tell Bradley about this, and then I'm gonna tell Penny you're bumming around here breaking hearts. You'll be lucky if you get away with a ring of the bell."

"No!" You cry, and Jake shouts sternly, "Phoenix, wait!"

But it's too late, and she's gone, wandering through the seat of people to find Rooster.

Jake lets his arms fall from around your waist and you both start towards the door, but Fanboy and Payback don't budge where they stand. Both are regarding you with disapproving looks, and you feel defensive as Jake's shoulders stiffen at their behavior.

"Listen, guys, you've got it all wrong. I know about Rooster, and he knows about me. We-" Jake runs a hand through his hair, "We're doing this- I dunno, throuple thing. He knows we're in here together, he chose this outfit for her tonight."

It's a flattering outfit, of course. But you're sure it's the least of their worries, as they process what Jake's just told them.

"Oh." Fanboy mutters, "So you're- it's all cool?"

"Well not now," Jake sneers, "Phoenix is about to have us thrown overboard!"

"Right," Payback steps out of the way, already intent on tracking the brunette down, "Phe- wait!"

He stops her just before she reaches Bradley, and she looks back at him exasperatedly. You're quick to follow, and she looks at you with her face wrinkled in disdain.

Bradley's, however, lights up at your arrival, and he sets his cue down, "Y/N! Hey, baby, wasn't sure I'd see you tonight. Thought Hangman might keep you in that shitty bathroom the whole time."

Phoenix's head snaps towards Bradley, her brows furrowed as she watches him keenly.

"Bradley, uh- I wanted to-" You sidestep his hug, approaching Phoenix with shame in your chest that you shouldn't be bearing. Somehow she's made you feel guilty for something you haven't done, and you want to make things right.

"I'm dating the both of them" You inform her in a meek voice, "Uh- Bradley and Jake. I would never cheat on anyone, or- or prowl a bar just to break someone's heart. I know what it looked like, but- I'm really sorry we confused you. If I had known you knew, I- I would have said something."

All in all, Phoenix feels a little embarrassed. She knows she did the right thing by trying to tell Bradley about it, but she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion, and all eyes are on her as she figures out how to proceed.

"So they know...?" She glances between both men, who nod casually.

"Yeah," You join, "It's- it's something we're trying out, a polyamory sort of thing."

"Oh." Is what she settles on, "Uh- I'm sorry. For threatening you, and lecturing you, and... yeah."

"It's alright," You assure her, sticking your hand out for a handshake. She goes to take it, but backs off last-minute, and something spikes in your chest straight at your heart.

"Uh- no hard feelings." She promises, hand down by her side again, 'But I saw you and Hangman in there, and I don't know where that hand has been."

[starry-bi-sky]

okay so i was thinking of a joke earlier about how in DPDC Amity Park's slogan "a great place to live" is not only city propaganda but also the city lording it over the rest of America for being normal. But then I remembered that, despite how many DCU Cities with heroes in it there are, the amount of cities in America without heroes still far outnumber the amount of cities in America WITH heroes.

So I did a little digging so the joke would still land. Something most heroes have in common is that they operate in major cities. What makes a major city? I found that the general consensus is that the population is roughly over or around a million. THEN I looked up the populations of cities in the DCU that I thought of off the top of my head. So Gotham, Metropolis, Starling City, Central City, Jump City. All of them ranked up to millions in population (most of them were in the tens of millions).

Amity Park's wikipedia describes it as being similar to specifically Philadelphia, Chicago, and San Francisco.

Philadelphia's Population: 1.576 million as of 2021 Chicago's Population: 2.697 million as of 2021 San Francisco: 815,201 as of 2021

Whiiich means that Amity Park if we take that from canon, is probably a major city. There are approximately 19,000 cities in America with probably less than a hundred that are major cities. Adding the DCU major cities wouldn't skew the data too much.

Which MEANS that I can make the joke that Amity Park's "great place to live" is not only just typical city propaganda, but also its Amity Park lording it over the other major cities for being one of the only major cities that doesn't have problems bad enough to warrant a superhero or a vigilante. Cue stage left the Fentons and Phantom :)

Amity Parkers were probably SO proud that they didn't need a superhero. They didn't have to worry about things like 'world ending threats' and 'super-powered individuals' and 'staggering property damage'. And then enter Fentons.

It also could be used as an excuse for why nobody took notice to Amity Park getting ghosts if folks like me aren't huge fans of the notion of a media blackout via Tucker, Technus, or the US Government. Or if you want to keep Amity Park as its urban city self. Amity Park's news on ghosts gets drowned out in a week because there's news on more popular, well-known cities going on every other day. The shit going on in Amity Park is every other major city's regular Tuesday and it gets filtered as such.

[green-eyedfirework]

Dick sighed as he dragged himself up the stairs, eyes dry and gritty.  He hadn't slept properly all week and he finally, finally had a weekend off.  All he wanted to do was sink into bed.

There were several downsides to not being a corrupt ass-kisser in the Bludhaven PD, and one of those was that his captain hated him.  He was pretty sure Redhorn would love if he expired of exhaustion, but Dick wasn't going to give the bastard the satisfaction.  He joined the police to do good, not take money and look the other way, and he wasn't going to let anyone bully him out.

Unfortunately for Redhorn, Dick was also damn good at his job, and overbooking his schedule was about the only thing the man could retaliate with.

It took him three tries to get the key in the lock--he was tired enough that his vision had started to go hazy, and every second he stayed slumped against the door increased his chances of falling asleep on his doormat--and he yawned jaw-creakingly wide as he stumbled inside.

Bed.  He was so close to sleep.  He didn't care if it was eight in the morning, that was what blackout curtains were for.  He was just musing on whether he should choke down a microwave meal so he wouldn't wake up feeling like his stomach was trying to digest himself when he saw the guy with the gun.

Dick, three steps into his living room, froze.

The guy with the gun smiled.  Before Dick could reach for his own gun, or drop to the ground, or let his sleep-deprived instincts catch up to the danger of the situation, his exhaustion-addled senses noticed the second guy with the gun.  And the third.  And the fourth, though this guy didn't have a gun pointed at Dick, he was just casually poking around Dick's bookshelf like breaking into a cop's home to examine his interior decorating was something he did on a casual Tuesday.

Was it even still Tuesday?

"Detective Grayson," the silver-haired asshole examining the pictures on his bookshelf said, not even turning to look at him.  "Can I trust you not try anything stupid, or do you need to be disarmed?"

Dick's fingers twitched to his gun, but he didn't think he could unholster it and fire before the other three did, not with his current level of exhaustion.  He mentally mourned the loss of his planned sleep.  "Depends on why you broke in here," Dick said evenly.  There was no cover between him and the door, so he couldn't even head out that way.

"If I meant to kill you, Detective Grayson, you'd be dead," the man said, finally turning around.  "Come in and have a seat."  One ice blue eye glittered dangerously.  "Get comfortable.  You look like you've had a long day at work."

Dick's heartbeat was pounding in his ears, everything abruptly clearer with the sudden surge of adrenaline.  He did as he was told, crossing the room slowly and sitting stiffly on the sofa, never moving his gaze from the tall, broad, one-eyed man smirking at him.

"You have a lovely family," the man motioned to the pictures.  "They seem very happy."

Dick resisted the urge to curl his hands into fists.  "Is that a threat?" he asked as evenly as he could.

"A threat?" the man looked amused.  "You're certainly very paranoid, Detective Grayson."

"One of the biggest mob bosses on the East Coast is holding me at gunpoint in my own apartment," Dick said tersely, "I think it's justified."

Slade Wilson shrugged, as if to say can't argue with that.  He turned back to the pictures, as though he was studying them, and Dick went tenser.

Bruce was rich, he reminded himself.  They had security.  Tim was resourceful, Jason was destruction on two legs, and Dick pitied the poor fool that tried to kidnap Cassandra or Damian.  They would be fine.

"No," Slade said finally, "it isn't a threat.  Merely an observation.  Family is important, isn't it?"

Dick forced his racing heart to slow down.  "What are you doing here, Wilson?" he said, just shy of a growl.  "Cut it with the cryptic bullshit."

Slade arched an eyebrow, but Dick didn't take it back.  He was already being held at gunpoint in his own home, he wasn't sure his situation could get much worse.

"I came here," the mob boss said, "because I have a case for you--"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No," Dick repeated, keeping Slade's gaze even when he felt like flinching back at the dark scowl on his face.  "My loyalty isn't for sale, Wilson.  I'm not going to take your money, and I'm not going to be your lackey."

Instead of being met with a bullet to the head, Dick was met with, shockingly, a smile.

"I'm not asking you to do anything other than your job, Detective Grayson," Slade said, retrieving an envelope from his side pocket and tossing it onto the coffee table in front of Dick.  "There's been a kidnapping--"

"Go to the station and file a missing persons report," Dick said evenly, not picking up the envelope.

"Unfortunately, circumstances require discretion," Slade said, expression darkening again.

"And half the department is in your pocket," Dick argued.  He’d found that out the hard way when he’d been forced to watch as Grant Wilson strolled out of the interrogation room with a smirk.  "Why did you decide to come to me?"

Slade was silent for a stretching moment, and then he sighed.  "There's a traitor in my organization," he said plainly.  "I don't know who it is, and unfortunately, that means there's very few people I can trust.  In the absence of those whose loyalties may have been shifted," Slade pushed the envelope closer to him, "I decided to find a cop that was loyal to his job."

Dick kept Slade's intense gaze for a moment longer before reaching for the envelope.  "I'm not going to do your dirty work," Dick reiterated, pulling out the papers inside.  "If this person hasn't been kidnapped and doesn't want to be found, I'm not--" his words trailed off into empty air when he saw the photos.

A young girl, not yet a teenager, scowled at him in the first picture, hair the same color as the man she was sulking next to.  The second, third, and fourth pictures showed the same girl, but tied up and gagged, her surroundings dark, looking up with wide, bright eyes at the camera.

"My daughter has been missing for five days.  They've increased the ransom demand twice."  Slade's expression is a mask of fury, but Dick can hear the desperation in his voice.  "They're hurting her."  Dick withdrew more papers, all the evidence that Slade had apparently collected.  "I don't know who was involved, and I'm not going to risk my daughter's life on it.  Can you find her or not?"

Dick looked again at the first person.  'Dad & Rose' had been scrawled on the back of it, and despite the sulking of the preteen, Dick could see her leaning into her father's side.  "Yes," Dick said quietly.

"Great," Slade said.  "You have twenty-four hours before the ransom drop."  Wait, what?  "And if anything happens to her, Grayson," Slade's expression was colder than ice, "I will ensure you share her fate.  Do you understand?"

Dick swallowed and nodded.

~#~

Twenty-four hours.

The first thing Dick did once all the criminals were out of his apartment was set a timer.  The second thing was to scarf down a microwave meal as he glanced through the evidence and wrote down preliminary thoughts.  The third thing was to take a nap, because Dick was going to get nowhere on fumes.

Eight hours later, Dick felt marginally more human.  Unfortunately, he was also a third down on his time limit, and most of his previous notes were utter gibberish.

Dick took a deep breath, put aside the indirect and direct threats of a mob boss that had broken into his home and held him at gunpoint--Dick was moving after this--and thought about this logically.

Rose Wilson had been kidnapped five days ago.  The fact that she hadn't been found already meant that the mob's resources couldn't find her.  Slade said that he hadn't contacted anyone in the police department, so police resources hadn't been exhausted.  However, if Dick treated this like any other missing persons case, he ran the risk of tipping the kidnappers off and getting a bullet in the head.

Dick checked the time.  Fifteen and a half hours left.

Maybe--maybe he was looking at this the wrong way.  Slade had mentioned several offhand things--if they were all connected, that would give Dick a starting place.

So.  Assume there was a traitor in the Wilson Family.  Assume that they were working with corrupt cops.  Assume that they had used police resources to snatch Rose Wilson.

Dick needed to get to the precinct.

He made it all the way to his building entrance before halting in the street.  There was an expensive black car parked--illegally--right in front of him.  One tinted window rolled down, and Dick met Grant Wilson's unamused expression.

"Get in," the other man ordered.

Dick wanted to point out that he didn't work for the younger Wilson, but getting into a shootout on a busy street seemed like a spectacularly bad idea.  Plus, the clock was ticking.

"Where are you headed?" Grant asked, voice terse.

"Precinct," Dick responded warily, but all Grant did was nod and pull into traffic.  "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think, asshole?" Grant gave him a dirty look.  "You spent nine hours in your apartment.  Did you find Rose?"

Dick decided not to tell him that he'd been asleep.  "Your father told me I had twenty-four hours until the ransom drop," Dick pointed out.

Grant jerked the car to a hard stop and turned to glare at him, eyes burning.  "That's my baby sister that's missing, you fucking pig, so you're going to get one thing straight," he hissed, not noticing or not caring that Dick's hand had immediately gone to his gun.  "If there is so much as a single hair missing from her head, I'm going to make personally sure that you regret it for the rest of your miserable and agonizing life, do. you. understand?"

Dick met his vitriol with artificial calm.  "Was that supposed to incentivize me to work with you?"

Grant growled, actually growled, and Dick remembered that antagonizing the guy rumored to have a hair-trigger temper was not the smartest of plans.

"Look," he interrupted before Grant could speak, "I said I'd help, and I swear, I will do my best to find your sister.  Which means going to the precinct to follow up on my lead, unless you think that being threatened is a better use of my time."

Grant's glare didn't diminish, but he did start the car again.  Dick sat there in silence and wondered how the fuck he was supposed to explain this to anyone.  Sorry, Internal Affairs, I was briefly held hostage by the Mob, but instead of reporting it, I investigated one of their cases and continued working with them.  Redhorn would have a field day if he learned about this.

"So what's your lead?" Grant asked tersely.

Dick decided not to point out that they were going fifteen miles above the speed limit and answered the question.  "I'm going to check if any of the cops have been investigating you guys recently.  If you're worried about a traitor, I thought it was a good place to start."

Grant didn't seem to think so, between the mutters of "Jesus, did Dad tell you everything?" and "it took you nine hours to come up with that, genius?" but he dropped Dick off a street away from the precinct.

"Fifteen hours," he reminded Dick with a glower as Dick slipped out.

The precinct was marginally more tolerable.  Dick made up an excuse that he needed to check something for a case, and it looked like most people bought it.  Redhorn, of course, continued scowling at him from his office, but Dick ducked quickly into the records room, where it didn't take much to sweet-talk the sign-out list from the records keeper.

It turned out that there were a lot of people in here looking up records for cases Dick was pretty sure they weren't working on.  But checking the sign-out list for the last month, there was only one who'd checked the Wilson Family open cases.

"Well, I always knew you were a bastard," Dick murmured, staring at Redhorn's name.

[inthefallofasparrow]

Attention:

To all members of the 21st Digging Corps, let it be known that this evening, Captain Siltsmear has succumbed to his illness, namely dust pneumonia and acute silicosis, and is gone from this place. Jasper T. Siltsmear was Head of Unit 23 for twelve years having climbed the ranks from humble beginnings as an itinerant shaftsman out of Pearlridge County. He lost an eye during the '37 Blackout and more recently, his decisive actions brought a swift end to the Dirty Tuesday Revolt as perpetrated by the short-lived Trespassers' Alliance. In accordance with his will, his body shall be hollowed out, filled with dynamite and lowered into the pit. He leaves behind an estranged nephew, 3 parakeets, and a mouth organ.

May he know lighter work.

[lance-thunder-reporting-live]

Good morning Amity Park, I'm your ghostly weatherman, Lance Thunder. Today's Tuesday, April 30, and there’s a 0% chance of rain. Highs are in the mid seventies, and the lows are in the mid forties.

The entire city of Amity Park lost all electronic connection at 10:23 AM on Friday the 26th. Televisions, Phones, Computers, and many other electronic devices were rendered useless. This was likely the work of Technus, though he was not seen at all during this time luckily, the issue was resolved at 1:53 AM this morning.

Several ghost attacks occurred during this communication blackout. The Wisconsin Ghost was sighted several times, but did not attack, several animal ghosts attacked, causing injury and damage to public property, Skulker fought against Danny Phantom, causing damage to roads with stray missiles, and the box ghost wreaked havoc in the post office.

A number of robberies were attempted during the blackout, including one successful robbery of a blue 2005 Honda Civic from a used car dealership by the name of Pete’s Auto Sales. Luckily, nobody was injured in any of these situations.

The Fentons will likely be driving today.

[dailymothanon]

Bro doesn’t know how to stop drop and roll 🙁 that’s uncool and not swag. I don’t know.. What urged me to draw him on fire. I promise I’m not malicious, i just had to do a quick sketch because i wanted to take a nap i will make it up to this bear boy

Him every Tuesday, someone get him an otter pop 🤧

I heard Maine and the other northeast is gonna get hit with a hurricane so good luck to y’all 🥳 up here in AK last year September we had a typhoon but it’s usually super windy and rainy this time of year so like literally everyone sorta thought it was just a little more windy than usual despite the fact there were blackouts

[silentcartoonist2018]

Chapter 8: The Redo Date

With the rest of the school week about to become a pure nightmare, Mr. Krupp almost felt inclined to call in sick for the rest of the week. But knowing Edith, this potentially runs the risk of her having to reschedule their Redo Date. Plus, payday’s just around the corner and he needs the money to pay for food and tickets this weekend. 

Mr. Krupp kept asking Mr. Ree for updates on the hypno ring, but the janitor kept saying there were none. 

All he could do for now is to put himself on complete lockdown. Which means he’s gotta repeat all of his preventative maneuvers on Monday…four more times. Worst of all, there’s no rain to act as a safety net for him. 

Tuesday

In preparation, Mr. Krupp brought in a plastic water basin and extra hand towels to keep his face wet. He essentially had to beg Ms. Anthrope to clear his schedule for the rest of the week, except for an appointment for repairing his office window, that he just noticed, had a crack on the sill, stemming from where he slammed it closed a little too hard. 

He made an extra attempt to ask Mr. Ree to leave the sprinklers out front, but the janitor warned him that this would max out this month’s water bill. 

To Mr. Krupp, it was worth it. 

Mr. Ree, meanwhile, had nothing new to report on repairing the ring. 

Today’s music playlist was Amadeus Mozart.

Wednesday 

Mr. Krupp insisted that Reid stop delivering his morning coffee for the rest of the week and take a break from reporting misbehaving students. Reid reluctantly agreed, but her usual unsettlingly, disapprovingly cold glare became 10 degrees icier. It thawed out shortly after she was told she was still allowed to use the coffee maker in the teacher’s lounge. 

Mr. Ree reported no new developments except he started to identify some serial numbers on the Hypno Ring’s incredibly tiny components.

Today’s music playlist was Vivaldi. (He quit Mozart after listening to —and looking up—“Lich mi….” Um….well….ask someone who knows a lot about Mozart, he’s a bigger rascal than you’d think.)

Thursday

The window repair guys came at the worst possible time—during recess. Krupp was able to clearly hear the kids playing outside and feared for his life that whoever it was he turned into would jump out the window and run amok through the entire neighborhood. While the window sill was being repaired, Mr. Krupp excused himself from his office to give the workers some room and attend to other duties. 

And by “other duties” he meant hiding inside the library. Ms. Singerbrains (Yes, she’s still working, surprisingly) found it odd that Krupp sandwiched his head between two beanbags for an entire afternoon. 

Mr. Ree was too busy to work on the ring last night because he was going out to see a movie with Ms. Yewh.

Today’s playlist was Hans Zimmer. (Krupp got bored of listening to classical music)

Friday 

Mr. Krupp triumphantly accomplished having gone through all five days of school without a blackout and felt a significant increase in his confidence. 

Plus today was payday and he planned to pocket $300 for his weekend budget. 

Unfortunately, amidst his emboldened confidence there was a significant slip-up.

All that could be said was that the office window was completely broken through, and the other red curtain had been ripped off. 

In the dreamscape, Krupp had caught Wiseguy having a spat with someone who seemed to be trying to get through a strange booth that popped up out on the water labeled “Unnecessary Cameo”. He could have sworn he could see something yellow and flat with a black top hat.

Wiseguy, finally having shooed away the stranger, closed the door, pulled out a ridiculously large hammer and hit the extra door back into the water.

He adamantly insisted that it was no one important. 

In the short 10 seconds he spent stuck in his head, he would later wake up in front of the school half-naked again.

The good news is that the sprinklers did their job and almost everyone went home. 

But the bad news is that the office window had completely shattered. 

Today’s playlist was supposed to consist of Kenny G, yet somehow, he completed the entire playlist and it automatically started playing songs by some lesser known Japanese comedian. 

And guess what? To Mr. Krupp’s utter frustration, he would later find out that it was a song that was LITERALLY about finger snapping!

………………………………

Saturday

He woke up this morning only to realize that He overslept. 

Of all days, it had to be on his redo date. 

She was probably waiting for Him right outside His front door. 

Somehow He got himself fully dressed and yet He couldn’t shake off the notion that He might have just spaced out for too long. 

Maybe it was just brain fog?

He reached out for the front door intent on getting to His car and driving over to Her house. 

But before He could unlock the car with His key fob…

…something caught His attention off the corner of His eye. 

She was walking away from His house…

…with someone else….

…someone who dresses the same way He does…

…even His hairstyle. 

At least, that’s what it felt like to Him. 

“Uhh…*****? Who is that?” He thought he said to Her. 

But She just laughed. 

Seemingly as if She were answering His apparent doppelgänger. 

He ran over towards Her and “Him”. 

“What are you talkin’ about? It’s just us right now.” He thought She said, holding “His” hand. 

“Ah, of course!” He said in an uncharacteristically jovial manner. 

He stopped in His steps with His mouth covered. 

That answer came from His mouth.

But it wasn’t what He said.

Not just that, it sounded like “He” answered at the same time He did. 

She laughed again.

And “He” started laughing too. 

They were laughing the same way He and She did on their first date. 

It wasn’t fair. 

He ran up to them just trailing behind like a third wheel. 

He reaches out to grab “His” shoulder, but in half a split second “He” vanishes and His hand is in Her’s. 

He looked behind, but no one was there. 

Suddenly, She grabbed onto his arm affectionately. 

“I dunno why, but you’re so much fun to be with when you have a blackout!”

He felt frozen up until the point He felt His foot landing in a puddle. 

He looked down at His reflection. 

He didn’t see Himself….

He saw a silhouette with a long red shroud with black stars.

…..grinning right back at Him. 

“It” grinned at Him.

Mr. Krupp sprang up in his bed breathing heavily, the events of that night’s dream still fresh in his mind. Once he settled, he slid his hands down his face.

………………………………

Real Saturday

Wallet. Check.

Keys. Check. 

2 32-ounce water bottles attached to belt. Check.

Belt to carry water bottles with. Check.

After giving it a lot of thought, Mr Krupp realized that going out in public is a lot more precarious than he previously thought. There were too many OTHER factors he’d forgotten to consider. 

He was about to enter an unpredictable environment beyond the scope of his authority as a principal where there will be an unpredictably large crowd and there is absolutely no telling when or how he was going to encounter a finger snap, unpredictably. 

So he spent time gathering up a “Sanity Survival Kit” to bring along with him, consisting of two filled jugs of water bottles and a cooling towel of course. 

He judged that he would most likely be safe at the science museum. Museums are boring and there is absolutely no reason for anybody to snap their fingers there. 

But the Farmer’s Market is going to be a triple threat. One, he hasn’t been to one since he was a kid. Two, he’s going to one to actually buy all sorts of delicious food and will likely let his guard down. Three, the market is outdoors, which is a lot noisier and all the more terrifying for a man in his situation. And just being outdoors in general is already risky enough. 

For this specific circumstance, he decided to carry a pair of earplugs. Edith was the one who wanted to go to the farmer’s market and will probably be too busy to talk to him. 

And yet, despite being well-stocked, something disconcerting from that night’s nightmare still stuck with him. He doesn’t even want to entertain the notion….

But what if….?

DING-DONG!

After feeling a split-second episode of Deja Vu, Mr. Krupp managed to make his way to the front door to welcome Edith into his home, only to realize just then that he forgot to unhook the newly installed door chain that he bought 2 days ago. 

“H-Hey, Edith! J-just give me a sec!” The principal stammered. 

“Uh, no worries. Take your time,” Edith said, slightly put off by how frantic Mr. Krupp was behaving by repeatedly trying to open the front door while his door chain was still hooked. 

“Um, maybe you should—“

*insert onomatopoeia for the sound of screws being ripped from wood. And the sound of metal subsequently falling to the floor.*

Of course, Mr. Krupp accidentally ripped off his new door chain, which he would have to replace later. 

“So….ready to go?” He asked while kicking away the now broken chain. 

………………………………

About 10 minutes south of Piqua

The two lovebirds just spent the entire drive having a one-sided conversation, particularly started by Edith, who was talking about a conversation she had with the other lunch ladies at work. She sounded lively at first, talking about some recipes she plans to try in her free time, then at some point, Mr. Krupp stopped paying attention as the radio started playing some lively sounding commercials. 

"…and coming right up, our monthly giveaway for $1000! Just call our toll-free number and snap your fingers as fast as po--"

*Click*

"Well, it's tough to be at the top~"

*Click*

“Is everythin’ ok, Principal Krupp?" Asked Edith.

"Nope—I mean, Yes! Uh, it’s nothing!" Mr. Krupp stammered. "Just feeling like, uh…not listening to music, that’s all!”

“I heard you’ve locked yourself up in your office…and the other teachers say the few times you did walk out, you looked like you were walkin’ on nails.“

“Oh….did they?”

“Did somethin’ happen recently? I-I mean, I don’t mean to pry, but I haven’t seen ya all week.”

“It’s….complicated.”

A brief silence fell between them.

“Does it…involve that towel ‘round your neck?”

“……..Again……Complicated….”

Another silence. 

“Was it because of last—“

“Please don’t guess.” Mr. Krupp interrupted.

An  even longer awkward silence fell between them.

“So…a science museum and a farmer’s market?” Inquired the principal, who wanted to break the ice. 

“Yeah,” Edith replied. “Weird combination, huh? There was a movie at their theater that I really wanted to see and it was only in that one science museum in Daytona. So the Farmer’s market’s gonna make up for all the possible boredom.”

“Sounds good. Sounds good. What’s the film about?”

“Well, it’s in a planetarium. So….Space stuff.”

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah. Duh! Of course space stuff. What else would they be playing?”

“Well…since the planetarium doubles as an IMAX theater. And it’s in a science museum so….”

“Right! Science stuff! What’s wrong with me today!?” Mr Krupp chuckled. 

“A lot apparently.” Edith said under her breath.

“What?”

“What?”

………………………………

A few minutes after getting off the exit near Daytona, the farmer’s market could be seen the next road over. The venue probably covered about 5 or 6 blocks so there was bound to be some difficulty finding a place to park. There were a few spots available near the planetarium, but it was practically 5 rows away. Better than nothing, right?

After getting out of the car and re-wetting his towel, the two started making their way across the parking lot. However, Mr Krupp, starting to lag behind, noticed something about his surroundings that he didn’t expect. 

About every other light post along each row of parked cars had a banner advertising an exhibit. He couldn’t really read what was on banners but he took notice of an awful lot of bright looking colors on the graphics. 

He then noticed the sound of high pitched voices and small footsteps…and something else…

Laughter…..

It was most likely from families who had to park at the museum. 

Mr. Krupp double checked the signboard of the museum that he never had the chance to look up. 

And then he started screaming inside his head:

A CHILDREN’S SCIENCE MUSEUM!?!?!?

No!! NOOOOO!!!!!

“Somethin’ wrong, Principal Krupp?”

The principal took one of his water bottles and completely drenched his toupee and put it back on his head, gathering back his resolve. If this was where Edith wanted to go, then he’s got no other choice.

“Nope! Let’s go right in!”

He was going to make this the best date ever!

However….

…as they were waiting in line for tickets, a security guard approached them.

“I’m sorry sir, but could you perhaps dry yourself off? We don’t want to get the floor wet.”

A VERY cold chill went down Mr. Krupp’s spine. 

The security guard motioned over to a nearby giant fan that was apparently airing out the building. 

For the next 15 minutes, Mr. Krupp stood in front of the fan to dry himself off. It was slightly embarrassing, but not nearly as embarrassing as waking up half naked in public, that’s for sure. 

“Oh no, I messed up again,” cried Edith. 

Mr. Krupp looked up to see Edith looking at the movie schedule. The one listed “Exploring Life On Another Planet” looked to be the only space-related movie that was showing that day and it was scheduled for 10 AM. 

He looked at his smartphone.

8:30 AM. 

“I’m sorry, Principal K. I was counting on traffic being a lot busier coming down here, but maybe we could grab some tickets to see the exhibit for a while? It looks fun and interactive too!”

Krupp was about to clench his fists with rage, but held back when Edith looked at him with puppy dog eyes. 

“Shhhhhhhhhhh-sure! Not a problem!” Mr. Krupp seethed through his teeth.

Today….is going to be the worst day ever. 

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

Join the 24 hour global online picket to end the U.S. Blockade on Cuba!

Oct 29-30

Register Here

24-hour Global Online Picket to End the U.S. Blockade on Cuba! + Remove Cuba from the so-called "State Sponsors of Terrorism" list!

24 HOUR GLOBAL ONLINE PICKET: Starting Tuesday October 29, 2024 8:00 pm (ET - Havana time)

Special Celebration & Wrap-up: Starting Wednesday October 30, 2024  7:00 pm (ET - Havana time)

Send video messages in solidarity with Cuba for the 24-hour Global Online Picket action: Telegram / WhatsApp: +1-778-882-5223 Email: info@us-cubanormalization.org

Register here: https://us02web.zoom.us/webinar/register/WN_dcotoDWZRm-1UBsFn3ubfg#/registration

Event will also be live broadcast on Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/events/474571148702025

On October 29-30, 2024 Cuba will bring a resolution to the United Nations General Assembly to end the U.S. Blockade on Cuba for the 32nd year!  While the government of the U.S. votes “no” to ending the inhuman and illegal blockade, the people of the United States & the world vote “YES, end the blockade now!”

With 90 days left for the Biden Administration it is time for us to make a renewed push for Biden to remove Cuba from the so-called "State Sponsor's of Terrorism" (SSOT) list and to end to the cruel U.S. blockade. The situation in Cuba is urgent, with a nation-wide blackout this week and an ongoing crisis in Cuba's electrical power grid the impact of over 60 years of brutal U.S. sanctions and blockade on Cuba is clear. This has been coupled with devasting and unexpected floods from Hurricane Oscar in the province of Guantanamo, which have killed 7 people. While the Cuban government and workers are organizing to repair damage, improve safety, and to solve these urgent problems, the U.S. government continues to try to strangle Cuba. 

This week folks will be taking to the streets, signing petitions, mailing postcards, printing an ad in the New York Times, and mobilizing ahead of the UN vote on Cuba's resolution to end the criminal and illegal U.S. blockade. 

We hope you will send a video message for Cuba and join us live for the 24 Hour Global Online Picket to End the U.S. Blockade on Cuba October 29-30, let's reflect the important work being done and raise our united voices around the world for Cuba!

Organized by the U.S.-Cuba Normalization Conference Coalition https://www.us-cubanormalization.org