#drunk union officer

[malix4583]

I've always loved animal symbolism, so here's some with the Dollars Trilogy characters + a Fistful of Dollars! 😱

(I will explain each one. 🙏🏽)

The Man With No Name as a coyote because coyotes are a symbol of cunning, intelligence, and adaptability. The coyote embodies the dual nature of life and represents both positive and negative qualities. It is also depicted as a trickster figure.

I think this fits TMWNN, especially being an anti-hero with his ways of being able to get what he wants by "playing both sides" throughout the trilogy. (With the Rojos and Baxters, Douglas Mortimer and El Indio's gang, and himself, Angel Eyes at one point, and Tuco.) Which gives him the cunningness.

He is described as intelligent a lot in the trilogy, and it's very clear with how carefully he plans and, again, how to get what he wants.

Adaptability because we see him in all sorts of settings: cities, deserts, villages, etc. and none of those have seemed to bother him one bit.

A Fistful of Dollars:

The Rojos as red wolves mostly because they travel in packs and are aggressive towards other canids, which we'll get to next.

(Edit: I just remembered Rojo also means red lmfao I swear that wasn't on purpose)

The Baxters as Coywolves because they travel in small family packs and compete with other canids such as wolves (the Rojos).

Both families are portrayed as powerful rivals like red wolves and even coywolves (likely because both animals live in the East United States).

Marisol, Julio, and Jesús (I couldn't fit Julio) as cattle because cows are quiet animals that symbolize humility and simplicity.

Which I thought was kinda fitting because with the lives they had to live, it gives them their humility.

Simplicity because the family follows TMWNN's orders with fairly little resistance.

For a Few Dollars More:

Col. Douglas Mortimer as a silver fox because silver foxes represent nobility, maturity, confidence, and charm.

I think the nobility for him comes from his long journey of avenging his sister and as a character that seems to have good personal and general morals.

The maturity because of his age, experience, and behavior.

Confidence is very easy to see lol he is very sure of his abilities, especially when he first meets Juan Wild in El Paso. (Man's got balls of steel, Jesus Christ)

This may be subjective, but the charm isn't that hard to see in him lmao

El Indio and his gang are Mexican wolves. Not just because they're a gang and wolves travel in packs, but also because those packs can be really big, like El Indio's gang. Plus, Mexican wolves tend to be highly social, which could be a stretch as a connection to El Indio and his gang, but they seem to accept new recruits to their gang pretty easily lol

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly:

Angel Eyes as a Gray fox. I promise I'm not being uncreative lmao. Gray foxes, given their competition in the wild, most likely tend to be more aggressive and dominant. Gray foxes also represent cleverness and adaptability.

In Tgtbtu, Angel Eyes can definitely be a very aggressive character, and the powerful part of the meaning of dominance is also very apparent in his character.

I find Angel Eyes's history of being able to track people down and identify them as a sign of intelligence.

Like, TMWNN, Angel Eyes can also be found in different settings and adjusts to them pretty quickly, especially given his job as a hitman.

(Sorry, it felt like I was grasping at straws on this one, but I couldn't find a lot on gray foxes, I just thought it was fairly fitting.)

Tuco Ramirez as a badger because they both are known for digging lol, but on a serious note, badgers are extremely aggressive towards other animals and have grumpy attitudes, which I find very fitting for Tuco lol.

I just wanted to include him lol. The Union Captain is a jaguar because jaguars can get intoxicated anddd yeahhh lol.

[froody]

Imagine you hired an obscenely drunk Union soldier in a saloon to kill your husband. He manages to accomplish the deed by removing the bullets from your husband’s gun through a sleight of hand trick before challenging him to a duel. This is somewhat impressive but what is more impressive is his strong work ethic, ingenuity, Irish accent, subtle chivalry and big brown eyes. You marry him and move onto the 15 acres of semi-arid land on the edge of the Chihuahuan Desert he stubbornly wants to farm. He wants to name your firstborn daughter after his cavalry horse in the Civil War and your firstborn son after his commanding officer. He calls you widow woman as a term of endearment. He’s a good shot, he’s a good cattleman, a great husband and a subpar father. But what else can you ask from a man who lost his entire family in the Famine and came to this country alone at the age of 14?

Imagine you are a former Union soldier. You are 22 years old. You were only 19 when you enlisted, an Irish immigrant who worked in a livery stable in Cleveland until the outbreak of the war. You fought valiantly. You survived. In lieu of wages, you accepted a parcel of land in New Mexico territory. You’ve never had anything that was truly your own. Except for, perhaps, your horse. You arrive in New Mexico for the first time in your uniform, your horse goes lame the second you step onto your parcel, it’s so dry and rocky and red and you do not think it’s arable. You have to put down your horse. She dies with her head in your lap and you cry so hard you think you’ll die with her. When you’re done giving her a wake, knowing you have no ability to bury her, you begin walking in the direction of Las Cruces. Maybe you can sell this cursed land. Maybe you can get a job. First, a toast to Lula, the mare, the closest thing to family you have had in this country.

You’re seeing double by the time a little woman with an appraising expression approaches you. She is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, perhaps even better in double. A little older than you. Long, dark wavy hair that cascades over her shoulders, a perfect round face, a warm brown complexion and the most troubled eyes you have ever seen on a woman. What is most miraculous is that she wants to talk to you. You, drunk, sunburnt, covered in dust, the blood of your horse soaked into your pant leg. She motions to your pistol. She says she will pay you to do a job, pay you handsomely, enough to buy another horse. She says her husband is rich, he enticed her away from her family when she was very young, he holds her captive in his hacienda, he hurts her. He must be killed so that she can return to her sisters and live without fear. You will do it, you must do it. You do not care how much of the story is factual. You do not care if she intends to have the sheriff string you up after the deed is done. You do not care if she cannot pay the money she promised. You would do anything to remove the sorrow from her eyes. You kill her husband and sleep fine afterwards.

You do not buy that horse. You stay in the hacienda while she is out selling the bits and pieces of her husband’s life. You meet her sisters when they come, you help her pack away the pieces of her life so that she may start anew. You tell her of your own plans to start anew, of the patch of rocky soil that is your own. She tells you she grew up on land like that, tells you that it has always been her dream to work it. When her sisters leave for the mountains, she leaves with you.

[hangeswif3]

Misunderstanding

Pairing: Hange x reader

Summary: Just Hange being a little very possessive.

This is my first post so I hope you like it :3

“What did you do this time?” Asked Levi to his friend, both watching intently to the scene in front of them.

You were in the bar, chatting happily with an officer that just arrived to the camp that same morning. You were holding a cup, which meant you were drinking, it wasn’t unusual of you but it still was a statement. Hange hated when you got drunk.

It was a party meant to celebrate the Union between Marley and Paradis, welcoming new soldiers from the city and trying to “get to know them better”, but everyone knew it was just a dull excuse to get drunk. The commanders weren’t used to being in these type of celebrations but since it was with the purpose of welcoming new recruits, they had to be there.

Besides, Hange wanted to keep an eye on you.

“Just my job.” replied Hange with a bitter tone.

You see, you were being kind of petty right now. You hadn’t gone to the party with the intention of making your partner jealous, but when the young soldier came to you, you took the opportunity to get back at them for what had happened hours ago.

You had fought. Again.

It wasn’t rare for you two to fight these days, Hange was spending so much time with pieck, a new recruit and a titan shifter, experimenting on her, so she had barely paid any attention to you.

You and Hange had had a relationship for a while now, only a few people knew since they were older than you and they were your commander, so it was only fair that when they decided to ditch you for spending time with someone else you got mad. You felt abandoned. And a little jealous.

When you tried to talked to them about it they just had said that “you were being ridiculous.”

And this is how you ended up here.

“So, how long have you been working here?” Asked the young cadet talking to you. So far you only knew his name was Porco and he wasn’t very fond of the idea of being here now, which was funny because he decided to talk to you.

“I’ve been training since I was 13” you respond without much thought.

You still didn’t know if you liked him, he looked like a good guy, and in a different situation maybe you would be happy to get to know him better but now, you were only here for a reason.

“That’s impressive” he says. You’re not dumb, it’s obvious he was just flirting. “You’re pretty impressive” he continues, giving you a small smirk.

You only smiled back at him, pretending you didn’t know what he was doing.

On the other side of the room you felt Hange’s piercing stare. You haven’t even looked at them since they got here but you felt their eyes on you.

Hange knew what you were doing, but it didn’t stop them from getting mad every time you twirled a piece of your hair and laughed at something Porco had said. They knew they fucked up but weren’t going to admit it that soon.

“Stop staring at your brat, you freak.” commented Levi with a sigh while watching his friend’s eyes completely on you. When he found out about you two, he started calling you “Hange’s brat”. You weren’t even sure if he knew your real name.

“Why is he touching her?” Hange responded without turning to look at Levi. Porco had tried to touch your arm, but you pulled back before he did.

Levi only snorted and whispered a small “crazy” under his breath. He knew the kind of relationship you guys had, but still thought it was stupid when Hange got this jealous over something so small.

You see, Hange was… particularly protective over you, at first it was just that “they wanted to keep you safe” so they wanted to have you always in their sight in missions and in when you when around other people. But then it became a little extra, not everyone knew you were together (sure, your friends knew) but most of the camp didn’t even dare to ask, so that made it more difficult for them to keep the stupid guys who thought that had a chance with you away. Besides, the age difference between you two always has had Hange on edge.

You knew it wasn’t completely healthy, but you didn’t care. Hange was a little possessive, so what? You loved them anyway. You even thought it was hot. Maybe you weren’t healthy either.

So that’s how you ended up in this situation. You were playing with fire and you knew it, it was surprising that Hange didn’t rip you apart from the guy the moment he started talking.

But it was too late now, and you weren’t a coward.

You looked away from Porco and locked eyes with Hange. They were furious, you could see the grip they had in the cup they were holding.

You smiled, and leaned over to Porco to whisper something in his ear without looking away from Hange. You could see something dark passing by their gaze and only for a moment, you got nervous thinking you might have gone too far.

“I’ll go get something to drink, I’ll be right back.” was what you said to Porco.

“Oh… um, yeah. I’ll be here.” he said back and you walked over to the kitchen of the building you were in.

You didn’t make it far though before you felt a grip on your wrist. You fought it at first but when you saw who’s it was you stopped.

“Just walk. If you know what’s good for you” Hange said. They looked angry. Very angry. You didn’t dare to talk back so just let them guide you outside.

It wasn’t long before you reached the entrance. The night was cold and the sky was clear and full of starts. You could hear some faint chattering and music from the party inside.

You were just about to say something when Hange pushed you against the wall, their hand in the side of your head. They were taller than you so you looked up and saw something dangerous in their eyes.

“You think you’re funny huh” they said with an evil smirk. “Trying to make me jealous? Very mature of you.”

You lowkey loved when they were like this, and their words just confirmed that what you did had worked so you decided to play along.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you just said. Looking up at them with your doe eyes, trying to look confused.

You looked so innocent, which only made Hange more jealous when they remembered that guy talking to you. “Don’t play dumb, he was all over you.”

“Who are you talking about?” You replied making a frown.

Hange was losing their patience. They knew you planned this, they knew you weren’t innocent. Looking at your slightly parted lips and the small dress you were wearing only made them wanting to be the only one on your mind.

Hange’s knee went between your legs, surprising you and lifting your dress a little, making you move against their thigh out of instinct. They laughed mockingly and their hand pressed slightly over your neck, keeping themselves still with the other hand on the wall.

They were so close to you, body pressed against yours and it only turned you on more. You two stayed like that for a moment, face so close you could feel their breath, you bit your lip, preparing for whatever they might do next.

Though you didn’t expect what came out of their lips.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” They whispered almost in pain.

“Then show me.” You said silently.

You stumbled a little when their lips where on yours. It was a desperate kiss, a needy kiss. The hand they had in your neck went directly to your waist and putting more pressure between your thighs. You gasped and they took advantage to enter their tongue. The kiss got more intense and your hands went to Hange’s hair. You separated, gasping for air, both when you went back for another kiss Hange stopped you, putting a hand in your neck again.

They took a moment to admire you. You looked so pretty like that to them. Your hair a mess and your needy look. So innocent. So perfect.

“You love me, right?” They whispered.

“I love you.” You responded, trying to lean back for another kiss but Hange stopped you again.

“If you pull something like that again I won’t be so gentle, princess” they said with a warning tone. “You’re mine, don’t forget that.”

And with that, they turned around and went back to the party. Leaving you there as if nothing happened.

You knew they just wanted to turn you on and then leaving you. It was your punishment.

Oh how you hated them.

[thecunnydiaries]

1842 January 1st Saturday

Was ushered in with joviality and hilarity; I hope it will go out so. Day very fine and a perfect Calm: no opening in the ice. During the day cleared away a four corner Ground and sKittle Alley on the ice, also a ring for a jingling match and a ball room for the Officers.

At 9 PM, on a Gun being fired from the "Erebus" a Silk Union jack Royal Standard & Ensin was hoisted on the ice and a Royal Salute was fired by a party of Seamen with Muskets who were acting "soldiers" headed by Mr Oakly and presented a most Ludicruous and Laughable appearance. The Officers drunk H Majesties health in Champagne and the Ships Company spliced the Main brace and drank her health with I dont Know how many cheers. After which dancing commenced and was Kept until midnight when Sunday morning walked in and hauled down the colors, and dispersed the Company. The jingling match afforded a deal of amusement: we in all spent a very happy New Years day Considering where we were and every officer deserves credit for endevouring to make every one comfortable.

(J.E. Davis, 1848)

Campbell's notes:

‘Jingling match. a diversion in which all the players are blindfolded except one, who keeps ringing a bell in each hand, while the others try to catch him.’ OED.

C. J. Sullivan, SPRI MS 367/22. ‘we kept up Dancing until 5 oclock in the morning When it ended with three or four Pugilistic matches in the Forecastle which peaceably Ended… The Games went off well, the Exhibition in the circus far Exceeded the Waltzing in the Ball room. James Savage carried the prize in the Bag. Jatter Welsh half strangled the pig and Bandy carried the prize for the pole. When the Essence of the Barley heated our Gents the Snow Balls went flying. After a round of coffee they withdrew from this Rare Scene of mirth So that the Tavern Tap and ball Room half Empty bottles in fact the whole ice berg belonged to our Jolly Tars until morning.’

Davis. Letter. pp. 13–15. ‘We all dined together in the gun-room, and after dinner, at about eight in the evening, we all went to a ball on the ice, a ball-room having been previously cut, with sofas all round, of course all made of snow. Flag-staffs were planted with the Royal Standard; two or three silk Union Jacks, besides other flags, presenting, I assure you, a very gay appearance. I must mention the sign-boards (for it was supposed to be an inn): one was The ��Erebus and Terror”, and the other, rigged on a boat-hook staff and an ice-axe, presented the figure of Bacchus in one corner and Britannia in another, and something else equally fine in the others … But in the centre was painted The “Pilgrims of the Ocean”, and on the reverse … The “Pioneers of Science”, at which Captain Ross was greatly amused. On the signal being given (a gun from the Erebus) the two Captains made their appearance (under a rather irregular salute of musketry from a party of the men rigged as a guard of honour) and took their seats on a raised snow sofa, and soon after the ball commenced. Of course Captain Crozier and Miss Ross opened the ball with a quadrille; after that we had reels and country dances…. Ladies fainting with cigars in their mouths, to cure which the gentlemen would politely thrust a piece of ice down her back. But it would require a “Boz” to give any idea of the ridiculous scene; it was beyond all description, and the best of it was there was not an ill word the whole time, although there were some very heavy falls and many a sore face from the blows of the snowballs.’

[wisteriagoesvroom]

unnecessarily specific headcanons for college!AU f1 drivers, part 1

charles

- major: marine biology

- always asks you to save you a seat at the caf and watch his bag then disappears for an hour and a half. when you have to run to your next class you find him on the quad and he’s made four new friends and is playing football and is super apologetic that he forgot his bag. you only forgive him because he’s so charming

- dorm room is a bit of a disaster. sports and pop culture memorabilia everywhere with no particular regard for look or feel, it’s just vibes

- makes music in his free time tho is not above making people listen to his lofi mixes on ableton

- has a t shirt tan from always being out doing fieldwork

- doesn’t make a big deal about studying but is constantly on JSTOR and tops classes rankings all the time. knows the librarians on a first name basis. crosses over with max in a lecture and ends up debating him every lesson about some soil degradation minutiae that runs way beyond class time

- often forgets to call his family, but when they do speak, the conversations last hours

- flirts with anything that moves. knows he can cash in the relationship capital at some point but it’s not malicious, just strategic

- is close friends with Pierre. they constantly speak rapid fire French to each other and gossiping about people in front of them when they think nobody understands

- definitely gets caught by the local paper for climbing the historical bell tower on the last day before graduation

max

- major: geography

- writes a shockingly good first year thesis. so good that he fucks over the bell curve for everyone else and thus alienates most people

- blatantly abuses the open office hours to go argue with the profs about pedantic points from their seminars. they actually fear him and respect him in equal regard

- will talk about the geographies of war and peace in such unnecessary detail that most people at student parties know to avoid him so as not to get maxsplained at the fruit punch

- knows only how to make 5 dishes and keeps making the same few (one of them has potatoes and raisins in it. his dorm mates do not know how to feel).

- is all about efficiency. definitely abuses a 12-in-1 shampoo and this is a detail he will never live down even when everyone graduates. at one point he resorts to eating “prepacked food” until someone (probably his TA Daniel) points out that those are army rations that you normally heat up in like, the desert

- spots a statistical error in one of the papers in year end finals, and correctly challenges their prof wolff on it. prof wolff doesn’t like that one bit.

george

- major: finance

- head of student union and will not shut up about it

- won on a platform that de-emphasised radical politics in favour of “real hard hitting issues that affect our campus welfare” including alumni fundraising

- is in fact very close with the alumni. so much so they find him annoying but will still donate every time he asks them to open their pockets for better decor in the dorms or whatever

- will one day end up running the regional arm of a Fortune 500 investment bank, before he runs for political office because someone told him he couldn’t do it and he wanted to prove a point

- gets too drunk one day and ends up running half-clothed around the quad singing adele very off key. will pay a PR specialist a huge sum when he’s older to have this scrubbed from the internet

- his friend Alex teases him about his swottiness constantly. alex is not part of the student union but somehow everyone on campus knows him anyway and loves him

alex

- major: maths and statistics

- is such a nice dude that the cafeteria workers actually smuggle him secret (and more ethnic) food on the side

- will quietly put his hand up in a lecture and say “respectfully, this is why the combinatronics sequence should be…” and is usually right

- one of the very few members of the overwhelmingly white college campus who can dance, and meets his partner lily at the ballroom dance club or something. has waltzed with George when drunk too. (Alex leads. George is not really happy about it)

- keeps a running excel sheet of who wins the drinking games at the silverstone dorm, where the gang regularly meets

- got in on an aid scholarship and never brags about it. but everyone is aware and knows he is one of the best people ever.

- posts a lot of BeReals about his cat who he misses dearly

I could do more of these but i will stop for now because I don’t know who else wants to read these extremely self-indulgent brainrot thoughts 🤷🏻‍♀️

(i was self indulgent. part 2 here.)

[deadpresidents]

Was Trump's assassination attempt the first time people other than the president were also killed or hurt?

No, it definitely was not the first time. There have been a number of additional victims during Presidential assassinations or assassination attempts throughout American history.

Here are the incidents where someone other than the President was wounded in an assassination attempt on Presidents or Presidential candidates:

•April 14, 1865, Washington, D.C. At the same time that John Wilkes Booth was shooting Abraham Lincoln at Ford's Theatre, Booth's fellow conspirator, Lewis Powell, attacked Secretary of State William H. Seward at Seward's home in Washington. Seward had been injured earlier that month in a carriage accident and was bedridden from his injuries, and Powell viciously stabbed the Secretary of State after forcing his way into Seward's home by pretending to deliver medicine. Powell also attacked two of Seward's sons, a male nurse from the Army who was helping to care for Seward, and a messenger from the State Department. Another Booth conspirator, George Azterodt, was supposed to kill Vice President Andrew Johnson at the same time that Lincoln and Seward were being attacked in an attempt to decapitate the senior leadership of the Union government, but Azterodt lost his nerve and got drunk instead. A total of five people were wounded at the Seward home as part of the Booth conspiracy, but Lincoln was the only person who was killed.

•February 15, 1933, Miami, Florida Just 17 days before his first inauguration, President-elect Franklin D. Roosevelt was the target of an assassination attempt in Miami's Bayfront Park. Giuseppe Zangara fired five shots at Roosevelt as FDR was speaking from an open car. Roosevelt was not injured, but all five bullets hit people in the crowd, including Chicago Mayor Anton Cermak who was in the car with FDR. Roosevelt may have been saved by a woman in the crowd who hit Zangara's arm with her purse as she noticed he was aiming his gun at the President-elect and caused him to shoot wildly. Mayor Cermak was gravely wounded and immediately rushed to a Miami hospital where he died about two weeks later.

•November 1, 1950, Blair House, Washington, D.C. From 1949-1952, the White House was being extensively renovated with the interior being almost completely gutted and reconstructed. President Harry S. Truman and his family moved into Blair House, a Presidential guest house across the street from the White House that is normally used for visiting VIPs, for 3 1/2 years. On November 1, 1950 two Puerto Rican nationalists, Griselio Torresola and Oscar Collazo, tried to shoot their way into Blair House and attempt to kill President Truman, who was upstairs (reportedly napping) at the time. A wild shootout ensued on Pennsylvania Avenue, leaving White House Police Officer Leslie Coffelt and Torresola dead, and Collazo and two other White House Police Officers wounded.

•November 22, 1963, Dallas, Texas Texas Governor John Connally was severely wounded after being shot while riding in the open limousine with President John F. Kennedy when JFK was assassinated.

•June 5, 1968, Ambassador Hotel, Los Angeles, California When he finished delivering a victory speech after winning California's Democratic Presidential primary, Senator Robert F. Kennedy of New York was shot several times while walking through the kitchen of the Ambassador Hotel. While RFK was mortally wounded and would die a little over a day later, five other people were also wounded in the shooting.

•May 15, 1972, Laurel, Maryland Segregationist Alabama Governor George Wallace was paralyzed from the waist down after being shot by Arthur Bremer at a campaign rally when he was running for the Democratic Presidential nomination. Three bystanders were also wounded in the shooting, but survived.

•September 22, 1975, San Francisco, California A taxi driver in San Francisco was wounded when Sara Jane Moore attempted to shoot President Gerald Ford as he left the St. Francis Hotel. Moore's first shot missed the President by several inches and the second shot, which hit the taxi driver, was altered when a Vietnam veteran in the crowd named Oliver Sipple grabbed her arm as she was firing. Just 17 days earlier and 90 miles away, Lynette "Squeaky" Fromme, a member of the Charles Manson family, had tried to shoot President Ford as he walked through Capitol Park in Sacramento but nobody was injured.

•March 30, 1981, Washington, D.C. President Ronald Reagan was shot and seriously wounded by as he left the Washington Hilton after giving a speech. Three other people were wounded in the shooting, including White House Press Secretary James Brady who was shot in the head and partially paralyzed, Washington D.C. Police Office Thomas Delahanty, and Secret Service agent Tim McCarthy. Video of the assassination attempt shows that when the shots were fired, McCarthy turned and made himself a bigger target in order to shield the President with his own body. President Reagan was struck by a bullet that ricocheted off of the Presidential limousine.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Daniel Villarreal at LGBTQ Nation:

Over a dozen public school districts in Oklahoma have said they won’t comply with a recent directive requiring them to teach about the Bible and the Ten Commandments. The state’s anti-LGBTQ+ Superintendent of Public Instruction Ryan Walters issued the directive in June and has threatened to penalize “rogue” districts that refuse “immediate and strict compliance” to his demands.

The state’s largest districts–including Bixby, Broken Arrow, Caddo, Collinsville, Deer Creek, Jenks, Moore, Norman, Owasso, Piedmont, Stillwater, Tulsa, and Yukon–have all publicly said they won’t alter their curriculum to follow Walters’ directive because it may violate state laws. Walters’ office released a five-page guideline last week on how to incorporate the Bible into lessons in late July, The Oklahoman reported. Walters’ guidance said that school lessons in grades five-through-12 should focus on the Bible’s influence on history, literature, music, and other arts and culture. His guidance also requires every classroom to contain a physical copy of the book and copies of the Ten Commandments, the U.S. Constitution, and the Declaration of Independence, The Hill reported. The defiant school districts have said they won’t follow his order and will instead follow the current academic standards approved by the Oklahoma Legislature. Current state standards give schools the option to incorporate the Bible into their lessons, but it doesn’t require them to do so.

[...] Miller suspects Walters would like the issue to advance to the U.S. Supreme Court where the court’s 6-3 conservative majority might rule in his favor. Conservatives have admitted that Republican attempts to insert Christianity and censor LGBTQ+ content in classrooms is part of a larger plan to delegitimize public schools so that taxpayer funds may go to Christian and exclusionary private schools instead. In early April, Walters announced rules banning “pornographic material” and “sexualized content” from public school libraries, including 190 LGBTQ+ titles. The state attorney general invalidated that order as well. But while Walters and U.S. conservatives nationwide are eager to ban such “pornographic” books from schools, they seemingly don’t want that standard applied to the Bible.

The Bible — which isn’t an authoritative history text, as elucidated by Notre Dame University — contains stories of “incest, [masturbation], bestiality, prostitution, genital mutilation, fellatio, dildos, rape, and even infanticide,” one Utah parent reportedly noted in March. The book also contains passages supporting slavery and advocating for the murder of LGBTQ+ people and of women who have pre-marital sex. The Bible has a story about two daughters who get their dad drunk to have sex with him to become impregnated. The Bible also mentions a woman who fondly remembers her lover as having “the penis like a donkey and a flood of semen like a horse.” Walters, who wants to ban LGBTQ+ books but teach the Bible in public school history classes, has previously pushed the transphobic lie about schools providing litterboxes to students who identify as cats. He also referred to teachers’ unions as “terrorist organizations” and illegally tried to make rules banning LGBTQ+ books and transgender bathroom access in schools.

Oklahoma’s chief indoctrinator Ryan Walters told the state’s schools to teach the Bible. Many school districts are rightly refusing to obey his deranged separation of church and state-violating directive, and even AG Gentner Drummond isn’t buying it.

[devinescribe]

We become We

Sejanus Plinth x Reader

Based off of the song we become we from the musical the journey to Bethlehem. I’m not religious but it’s a bop

Warnings: arranged marriage but it’s Sej so it’s fluff

The Plinth family and the L/N family.

Two of the most powerful and richest families in the Capitol.

So it made perfect sense to them to arrange a marriage between their two children.

Sejanus, the Plinth’s only son, and Y/N, the L/N’s only daughter.

While the two didn’t dislike each other, it was awkward. They had moved into an lavish apartment together and getting used to being married was quite the adjustment.

Sejanus had been crushing on her since he moved to the Capitol. Of course, marrying the beautiful woman had been a dream. But in his dreams and imagination he asked you properly.

You had thought the Plinth boy was cute. At least he was sweet. He was thoughtful. And it was obvious he adored you even if you didn’t show him the same affection. It wasn’t as if you didn’t like him. But… you were scared.

What if you fell in love and it soured? You’d still have to remain married. You didn’t want to ruin him.

“Oh, let me get that,” he smiled, grabbing the book you had been reaching for.

You blushed.

That dopey grin he gave you was enough to make you melt every time.

“Thank you Sej… that’s very sweet of you,” you said as you both walked out of the office room.

His hand reached for yours and you instinctively pulled away. Softly you placed your hand in his as you two walked to the bedroom.

You sat on the bed. It was huge. Much too big. But you couldn’t ask Sejanus to get closer. You were too embarrassed.

You didn’t want to hurt him, but you hiding your feelings made him feel worse.

Instead of going to his side of the bed, he sat besides you.

“Can we… become we?” He asked shyly.

“What? What do you mean Sej?” You questioned, looking up at him.

Those eyes would make him melt no matter how long he stared into them.

“No longer known as just you and me, two separate lives now in unity… I know we’re stuck here together but, will this always be just an arrangement?”

You were shocked.

“I know… it’s dumb… but I’ve always liked you. And honestly being married to you has been a goal in my life… but only if you wanted to… our parents kind of screwed that up,” he muttered, fidgeting with his hands and the simple band that was on his finger.

The band that matched yours.

He wanted to… have a relationship? Why hadn’t he asked you out in Academy? You had always been caught staring at him and you wondered now why he didn’t talk to you.

“Can we become more than half of a union we're chosen for? Where I am your best half…” You asked, a blush adorning your face as you looked to the boy.

“And I am yours.”

“We’re stuck here forever… and hopefully not ending in estrangement…”

——

You hated these fancy galas. Your corset felt too tight, your heels uncomfortable, and your hair felt uncomfortable.

“You look absolutely beautiful…” he mumbled into your ear, offering his arm to you.

You took it and smiled.

“And you look so dashing…”

The night was filled with some of the richest people making comments and getting drunk.

You heard the band hired start to play a waltz and your eyes sparkled. Sejanus saw this and remembered the night he came home late, watching you dance a waltz by yourself in the living room.

“Care to dance?” He asked, extending a hand.

You smiled, one of the biggest and most genuine smiles he had seen you give in a while.

You grabbed his hand as he lead you to the floor, beginning the waltz with you.

It’s the step of faith we have to take sometimes

As you two danced across the ballroom you couldn’t help but notice how he looked at you. There was so much love and adoration in his eyes.

And you looked at him the same way in that moment.

“Will this always be just an arrangement?” You whispered to him.

“Well find out in time if we don’t break it… there’s no rush dear…” he whispered back, placing a kiss on your forehead.

——

At home, he helped loosen the corset, and take those uncomfortable heels off.

You sighed in relief as you changed into a silky nightgown. Getting into bed, you saw Sejanus already there.

Crawling through the sheets, you curled up next to him.

“Can mine become yours… combining our dreams without keeping score?” You whispered as he turned to face you.

He smiled sleepily and grabbed your hand.

“This will never work out without each other… I don’t want you to rush yourself into it because I mentioned it. I want you to be comfortable with it,” he whispered. “Now let’s get to be… you’re obviously sleep deprived if you want to cuddle up with me-“

“I’ve wanted to… it’s cold at night… just didn’t know how to ask,” you blurt out.

There’s a small silence before Sejanus laughs.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you hear the sound. It’s angelic.

He gently wraps his arm around you, pulling you close.

You feel guilty. Someone as good as him deserved someone who was sure of their feelings. Well you were sure of your feelings, but you didn’t want to hurt him….

“Can we become we? Start a new line on this family tree…” he mumbled sleepily against your neck.

The idea was sweet. Having a family with Sejanus. He would be an amazing father. He was sweet and patient, loving and caring. You couldn’t help but let your mind drift to thoughts of this.

“Two hearts connected by one beat… your hand in mine… you’re to good for me. Too sweet. I don’t deserve you or how you are. I’ve been so scared to… let you in… I don’t… I don’t want us to fall in love and it be soured later in life-“ you started.

“I could never choose to love another,” he whispered, tracing patterns on the exposed skin on your arms, his touch sending goosebumps down your body.

“Maybe one day I could… learn to love you too,” you whispered, tears in your eyes.

“Take as long as you need… I’ll adore you today…” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Tomorrow.” A kiss pressed to your temple.

“And till my bones are reclaimed by the earth.” A kiss pressed to your hand.

“I will wait as long as you need. Because I love you, (Y/N) L/N.”

The silence in the room grew and you turned in his arms, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“I’ve always adored you… I thought that would make you pull away…” you mumbled. “I… I love you too… Sejanus Plinth…”

[ukrfeminism]

5 minute read

A woman was sexually harassed by a firefighter as he responded to a blaze at her home, as he asked her 'why are you single?' and suggested he call around again after his shift had finished. 

The mother of one said the Cheshire Fire and Rescue Service watch manager's "predatory" and "insidious" advances left her feeling “really uneasy” at a time when she was at her most vulnerable – alone in the house with her daughter and dressed only in a dressing gown. 

The woman, who did not want to be named for fear of reprisals, was prompted to speak out about the incident for the first time after learning the man had since been promoted.

“He was behaving like he was drunk in a bar, being quite laddish and strutting around the house,” the now-46-year-old told The Independent. 

“He kept commenting on me being a single parent. He said it at least three times. One time he turned to his colleague and said, ‘Oh, she’s single.’ Later [asking] ‘So, why are you single?’”

It comes after an HM Inspectorate of Constabulary and Fire and Rescue Services (HMICFRS) report, published in March, warned discrimination, bullying and harassment were rife in fire services after a review uncovered incidents in which firefighters “acted out a rape” and used the n-word.

In response, The Fire Brigades Union (FBU) on Wednesday launched a drive to tackle “decades of harassment, bullying and discrimination” in the fire service following multiple damning reports. The union pledged to create its own set of reforms, as it slammed failures as going “right to the very top of fire service management”.

Describing her experience in 2016, the woman said she was with her then-six-year-old daughter when a fire broke out in her garage at night. 

Neighbours alerted the fire service after spotting the flames and the pair escaped the blaze safely. But the unwelcome advances of the fire officer began when the watch manager and two other fire officers went into her home to do safety checks.

“He was looking at photos on my walls and commenting on what my friends looked like,” she said. 

“He offered to call round after his shift. He didn’t imply anything but to check on me - but it just felt a bit odd. I wouldn't imagine that is protocol.

”It felt really unprofessional, and the fact that he was the watch manager left me feeling really uneasy.”

The woman said she minimised her experience at the time but someone who witnessed what happened later approached her to raise concern, saying: “He was really inappropriate with you.” 

The woman said this validation of her experience encouraged her to make a formal complaint.

The station manager later visited her home to take down details of what had happened and she received a letter of apology letter from the watch manager. 

Although, rather than an admission of guilt, she said it was phrased in a way that implied “sorry if I made you feel that way”.

Beyond that letter, the woman said she does not know if any other action was taken. 

The man is still working at Cheshire Fire and Rescue Service and, according to his online profile, has since been promoted. 

That knowledge made the woman "hope I never ever have another fire”.

Alex Waller, chief fire officer and chief executive of Cheshire Fire and Rescue Service, said of the woman's case: “A station manager swiftly investigated the complaint in line with procedure and found the watch manager's behaviour fell short of our expected behaviours and values. Proportionate action was taken and he apologised to the complainant.”

Reacting to the woman's case, HM Inspector of Fire and Rescue Services Roy Wilsher told The Independent “the public should be able to trust fire and rescue staff implicitly”.

“There is no room in any service for someone who behaves inappropriately or perpetuates toxic culture,” he added.

The HMICFRS has called for greater transparency on sexual harassment within the service, telling The Independent that no official body currently collates figures on such complaints and called on the Home Office to do so. 

Most individual fire services appear not to publish the information either, although the London Fire Brigade began doing so in November after a separate independent review found it was “institutionally misogynist and racist”.

The National Fire Chiefs Council confirmed to The Independent that while a national code of ethics was published in 2021 there is no independent national body that deals with issues raised about the fire service. Instead, each service acts as its own employer with its own disciplinary procedures, dealing with issues internally.

FBU General Secretary Matt Wrack revealed the union will launch its own set of standards on equalities and will hold fire services to account against these. He added it will launch a nationwide poster campaign aimed at changing the conversation around discrimination in the service.

The Home Office told The Independent it was “carefully considering the [HMICFRS] report’s deeply concerning findings”.

[antifainternational]

(To mark this March 8th, we're turning over our social media to some of the brave women in Ukraine, fighting against the Russian invasion & attempted genocide) "I remember I was making a card for my mom for 8 March in second grade. The number 8 was made of dry beans glued to cardboard… I can’t imagine anything more kitschy, anything that devalues and distorts this day more than turning it into a “day of spring and beauty,” and all these endless awkward cards, tulips, shampoo sets, and drunk parties to celebrate the “decoration of the office team” once a year. So I can understand the part of our society who advocate for canceling this holiday as one of the last remnants of the Soviet Union. Generally, it would be logical to send the “day of girls” after the “day of boys” (23 February) to follow the course of the Russian warship. But there’s a “but,” and not just one. Around the world, 8 March is not a day of spring and beauty, it is a day of struggle for women’s rights. And this is still relevant, given the problems faced by countless women everywhere and in Ukraine in particular. It is especially relevant during the war, when the level of poverty, unemployment, violence and discrimination goes off the charts, and women are the first to suffer from it. So as long as the problems of the struggle for women’s rights are relevant, this day remains relevant as well. I am at the front now. Just like over 5,000 other women who fight and 60,000 who serve, I am also fighting the russian aggressor. I want us to defeat this empire of evil as soon as possible, so that our only enemy after the victory is the patriarchy. Which will be defeated, too. Death to the empire! Death to the patriarchy!" -Chimera, paramedic SUPPORT CHIMERA

[lacefuneral]

you know disco elysium is a good game because i'm willing to play through the exact same plot and side quests and puzzles over and over and over again. not to solve a murder mystery but because i'm fascinated with trying out alternate universe versions of harry du bois

what if he was a centrist honor cop that is also an outspoken feminist that chainsmokes. what if he was a sloppy sloppy party boy drunk doing every drug he sees, and he thinks the world is going to end. what if he was a horribly bigoted fascist - how does he exist in this world with a gay partner of color, how does he reconcile his white supremacist beliefs with that of measurehead's black supremacist beliefs (which he ends up adopting)? what if he was an outspoken communist bisexual that actively hates being a police officer at every single step and is going to resign the second the game ends, and he's been sober the entire time? what if he has 1 in every skill and spends his entire time crying, throwing up, apologizing, and passing out.

and also... do any of these men know their own name? what do they prioritize, in terms of memory recall? how do they choose to dress and present themselves to the world? does he shave? why or why not?

if they all pick the same dialogue option, are they saying it and meaning it in the same way? our protagonist is not voiced. he could be sincere, sarcastic, bitter, manic, bureaucratic, empathetic.

it's such a good study in people and ideology. regardless of beliefs, all of my characters have taken bribes. they've helped the union leader. they cozy up to the ultraliberal. even the cop trying to be the most Ethical. the most Fuck The Police. ends up abusing his own power. ends up killing people. ends up stealing. invades privacy. because its what is dictated by the job. by the narrative.

when you try to be apolitical, you still do all of those things. and, in fact, if you're apolitical enough you can abandon martinaise entirely and you get assassinated by the moralintern for Knowing Too Much about the pale.

if you play a communist you still have dros at the end telling you that you're not a real communist because you haven't fought for revolution. you're a wannabe

if you play a fascist dros even tells you that you're not a real fascist because you haven't enacted enough fascist violence. you're a wannabe

if you're a liberal you're shielding the fascists

you cannot be "a good guy" in disco elysium and you cannot "win." a "good" ending is getting recruited back to the force, and you can still manage to do that if you don't drink and kim is by your side. you can be brutal and awful and violent to everyone and everything. and they let you back.

even "good cops" cannot choose to resign. you must be kicked out of the force. which you do by hurting yourself and letting others get hurt

you can only resign if you take enough Morale Damage that you abandon not just the force but the entire community. and you get a game over screen

man. this fucking game....

[chacusha]

The Orville thoughts

Okay, basically, most of my reaction to watching the first few minutes of this show is "How is this legal?!" Like, people weren't kidding when they said this show is more Star Trek than modern Star Trek...

(I haven't seen this many Star Trek alumni in one place since Disney's Gargoyles! :V Seriously, my face when I saw Penny Johnson Jerald!)

More thoughts:

This show really GETS the value of opening episodes with senior officers engaging in some wacky off-duty bullshit before getting called to the bridge.

This show also GETS the value of showing events happening in bright, clear lighting. Even if this makes the cheesiness of the costumes, locations, and special effects more apparent, it also makes for clearer action too, so very much worth it overall IMO.

It is so bro-y, though. So, so bro-y. I think I might have died during the "astrology sucks" episode.

Also, I feel like Kelly Grayson's character is like the embodiment of the Cool Girl archetype (bro version)? Effortlessly pretty, always willing to get drunk and party (never in an ugly or unappealing sort of way, though), always on Ed's (quite bro-y) level when it comes to humor and hobbies and interests (you know, except for that One Time She Betrayed Him).

Also, there is so much weird "women are emotional and men are logical" and other gender essentialism going on in this show that I'm not even going to go near that... Other than to note that a lot of the issues around the depiction of Moclan culture and the relationship between the Federation Union and Moclus in the show suffers from an ultimately patriarchal sort of approach to feminism.

I might be a bit feral for Claire and Isaac's relationship, though. A lot of the elements of The Orville seem to be a direct reference to Star Trek (especially TNG). As part of that, Isaac is clearly a Data expy (except with a robot superiority complex and therefore very much NOT The Nicest Boy, unlike how Data is), but I appreciate the differences here -- that they weren't afraid to give the Data expy character a romantic plotline (quite similar to the Data episode "In Theory," which ultimately shied away from having Data successfully be in a romantic relationship). I appreciate this plotline as the path not taken there!

Overall, I think this show is surprsingly good at doing sincere emotional moments (which is unexpected given Seth Macfarlane's oeuvre), but terrible at doing politics/philosophical debates/legal drama. (Like, some of the arguments made during these sci-fi issue debates are often so bad/shallow/missing the point, it's a bit cringeworthy.) Which is quite ironic given above-mentioned weird gender essentialism going on in the writing of the show!

That said, even though I would say the politics of The Orville is only OK (I would describe it as trying to live up to Star Trek but distinctly "Reddit atheist" in its aesthetic and political leanings), at least The Orville TRIES to do philosophical debate plotlines (i.e. episodes where the whole conflict/source of tension is an ethical puzzle and one that isn't a painfully easy "obviously good position vs. obviously evil position" ethical "debate" such as "is genocide good? please discuss" or "which is better: doing science or waging war? discuss"), which is something that modern Trek seems to have kind of given up on. And often the politics here, even if not particularly great, still have a distinctly progressive lean, which is better than shows like Picard, for example.

Sometimes it's hard for me to tell what in this show is meant to be a sudden change in creative vision, hastily executed, and what is meant to be a purposeful reference to TNG's (own hastily-executed) writing. For example, the black officer at the conn who suddenly gets promoted to chief of engineering? The show deciding they needed to switch directions with this character and give him more to do, or is John LaMarr a big reference to Geordi La Forge? The female security officer getting suddenly put on a bus -- a reference to what happened to Tasha Yar, or an indication of behind-the-scenes conflict? (Whatever the intention is, the writing here, while hasty, is still overall better done than those bumpy early parts of TNG.)

Another good thing about this show is that it has a good, very likable/charming mauve shirt cast, which it treats pretty well. Which, again, is more than what can be said about a lot of modern Trek, which either has very flat and boring mauve shirts, or kills them off for cheap drama (or, frequently, both, which is hilarious -- like, sure, maybe this mauve shirt dying would have some emotional weight on this show if they literally had a personality or were given anything interesting to do before this episode, but they weren't, so... 🤷).

I was looking at reviews this show got, and apparently it was quite poorly reviewed in the first season, but got better reception in later seasons. I guess this makes sense as the first season was kind of stuck in that weird area between irony-filled parody, fawning homage, and just trying earnestly to bring more Star Trek-type entertainment into the world. People seemed to think it found its footing by jettisoning some of the edgier and irreverent parody aspects in favor of straightforward earnesty, but I also kind of wonder if what happened was more like as Star Trek shows started getting worse around it (Discovery declining in quality; Picard just... being Picard....; Strange New Worlds being distinctively, like, just OK; Lower Decks being fine while avoiding serious/philosophical plotlines; Prodigy also being fine but for kids), having something that didn't shy away from the aesthetics, sci-fi worldbuilding + cosmopolitics, and self-contained plots of TNG felt refreshing? Like The Orville seemed to find its niche largely by just keeping going with what it was doing, while nuTrek failed to fill or offer anything in that highly-coveted niche aside from the perfectly passable but somewhat bland SNW.

So yeah, overall, this show falls quite short of meeting the bar of "more 90s Star Trek for you to watch," but it benefits from sincerely trying to be that, including not being afraid to do entirely new worldbuilding and political-balance-of-power within its own new universe. Or trying to create plots that tackle social issues not handled before by 90s Star Trek shows. In that sense, it keeps quite well with the original spirit of Star Trek even if it doesn't quite get there. There are some updates here as well due to being made several decades later, like more casual depictions of LGBT relationships, more variety in the alien designs, and more smoothness to the writing in general (like more coherent episode plots and character arcs). Overall, I felt the show very worth watching although quite "pointy" in quality (i.e. does some things really, really great, while doing others very poorly) and just very refreshing in the current nuTrek environment. (But with Discovery regaining its footing, maybe that will change!)

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

"The female isn't yours to objectify, not in art nor anywhere else!"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "That's rich coming from you, Tequila. You had some pretty wild views about women last weekend..."

KIM KITSURAGI - "I don't know where he picked up these views, but wherever it was, he seems to be sincere about them."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that mixing art and sex can make you fucking *rich*. Just don't go on a jog, unleashing a cascade of doom that washes it all away."

2. "What's up with the tracksuit?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "What? You never seen 100% Lickra(TM) before? Go on, feel that primo material." The man extends his arm...

Touch it.

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Pretty nice, huh? This might be one of the last of its kind. Should probably be in a museum, honestly." He takes another sip.

INTERFACING [Impossible: Failure] - Good god, it's nearly impossible to describe how dirty this texture is. It's like rubbing two jellyfish skins together. You feel about 15% less human for having touched it.

-1 Morale

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Easy: Success] - Randomized trials have also found Lickra(TM) to be associated with a number of exotic, highly malignant cancers. So you also have that to look forward to.

PERCEPTION (SMELL) [Easy: Success] - And then there's the smell, but you don't even want to think about that.

ROSEMARY - "Wow, you're lucky. He never lets me feel it."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "That's because your paws are fucking filthy, Rosie! We're right next to the bay, you could wash them anytime."

3. "What about the other drunks?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "My fellow members of the Union of Moribund Alcoholics? They're exactly what they look like."

ROSEMARY - "'Ey! Tequila! You wanna buy some speed?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Shut the fuck up, Rosemary! He's a cop, remember?"

ROSEMARY - "I thought he was a cool cop."

DON'T CALL ABIGAIL - "Don't call Abigail!"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "And this is Abs." He points to the man in the pipe. "So yeah, that's basically us. We drink together."

4. "What's this about a lost jacket?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Tequila, it's a verifiable tragedy. It was practically brand new. Sure, it didn't really go with my Lickra(TM) threads, but it did itch a lot less..."

"Say, you're a detective, right?" He looks at you, bleary-eyed. "Maybe you can help ol' Doom Spiral out… solve the case of the missing jacket! What do you say, Tequila?"

"Wait. You're asking a police officer to help find a jacket you stole and then lost?"

"Okay, sure. Where'd you lose it?"

"I don't have time for this."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Yeah, exactly. You're here to serve, right?"

2. "Okay, sure. Where'd you lose it?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "If I knew where I lost it don't you think I'd have it? I mean -- maybe I was up by the boardwalk? Or walking along the beach? Or checking out the abandoned fish market?"

"That's a lot of places."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Somewhere north of here, that's for sure. You could ask around, see if anyone's seen it."

New task: Find Idiot Doom Spiral's jacket

5. "Let me ask you something else." (Conclude.)

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "I'm all ears, Tequila."

4. "Have you got any more stories?"

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "I do -- but as you can see my fuel tank is running quite low, if you catch my drift..." He spins the bottle in his hand. Not a single drop of liquid remains.

"I don't have any on me right now."

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - "Cotton mouth is keeping my tongue imprisoned." He shrugs his shoulders dramatically.

3. "Be seein' you." [Leave.]

ROSEMARY - "Good to see you, friend! Do I have *deals* set up for you, buddy-boy!" He spreads his arms as if wanting to embrace you.

"What are you talking about?"

"Good to see you too, friend."

"I'm a police officer, not your friend."

ROSEMARY - "So whadda'ya want?" He tilts his head. "I got smokes. They're cheap. Very cheap. I got pilsner. Great deal. You won't get a better deal on that piss... Spirits I can let go for 300 reál. I also have speed. And by *speed* I mean amphetamine."

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - See, there it is, bratushka! -- you feel your necktie *strangle* you with excitement -- the *spirit*! Let's buy the spirit! 300 reál is a lot, but this has to be done.

It's our END GAME.

This is just another stupid drunk idea I'm having, that I'm attributing to my necktie.

This is the mystery and the truth and I need to buy that spirit.

What if I don't want to listen to my necktie anymore?

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - Bratan, you don't understand. It's not just another drink. This is what our relationship has been building towards all these years. This is the climax. The mystery. The virginal sigh.

You *have* to buy it from him. Get it off him. Kill him, if you have to. Our ultimate fate depends on it. And the fate of *many worlds*.

New task: Spirit is eternal

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant looks at you looking at the bottle of spirits. Then at Rosemary, suspiciously.

So, we can buy cheap drugs from Rosemary, including more alcohol if we want to immediately pass it on to Doom Spiral. We very obviously cannot afford the 300 reál spirits.

"Amphetamine?"

"Quite the business venture you've set up here."

"Why does the bottle of spirits cost 300 reál?"

[300 reál] "Here's the money for the spirits."

[2 reál] "I want a pack of smokes."

[1.50 reál] "Here's the money for a pilsner."

[15 reál] "Sell me some speed."

"I'm off." [Leave.]

ROSEMARY - "Aye, by amphetamine I mean speed."

"I think you didn't hear me, when I said I'm a police officer."

"I thought by speed you meant amphetamine?"

"Right. Got it."

ROSEMARY - "Sure did, buddy-boy," he taps the side of his nose. "That's why I said amphetamine. I mean speed. I mean amphetamine. I got both."

"I thought by speed you meant amphetamine?"

ROSEMARY - "Aye, 's'what I said."

"Right. Got it."

ROSEMARY - "Good-good, my man." He takes a chug from his beer bottle. "Now what can I offer ya?"

2. "Quite the business venture you've set up here."

ROSEMARY - "Oh..." He gets a proud gleam in his eyes. "The system's been good to old Rosemary here and I'm milkin' 'er like a bitch goat in the backyard."

"What do you mean?"

ROSEMARY - "You see, friend," he raises his index finger, "man makes his own luck -- and I made mine real good. Got my hands on three bottles of *liqueur exquise*, sold two to the fellows around here and *immediately* invested the profit."

"Bought cigarettes, bought beer, even bought a bit of speed. And look at me now… I got everyone on my hook." He spreads his arms and smiles a crooked toothless smile.

VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] - The hook -- where is it? I can't see it.

[seadem-on]

Activity 1 for the @dollarstrilogyevent - the fiddle player.

He had dreamed so long of being part of an orchestra.

Back in his hometown, there was not much to do in the long evenings for a young man like him - nothing that did not involve getting drunk and being involved in bar fights or meetings with the women who used to entertain soldiers and bounty hunters. He had never been strong enough to fight another man with the chance of winning. As for women, he’d known all of them by their names as they had raised him since he was a little infant - one of them was his mother, he was not sure which one as they all took care of him in the same way and called him sweet, affectionate names.

Since he’d been a little boy he had to find himself something to be occupied with. He’d started knocking together old rusty iron pot lids, and his mothers would sing along obscene tunes which sounded tender and nostalgic to him. Eventually a passing stranger, a paying companion of his mothers who’d end up develop a little affection for him, left him an old scanted fiddle. He’d learned to play by himself, and soon he came to know the instrument like himself, like it had always been part of himself.

In the dimly lit saloons where the boy spent his evenings he would start to play tunes on his fiddle - often merry and entertaining, to light up the spirits of the owner, the workers and the customers alike, to see his mothers dance with their colorful skirts and hear their crackling laughter. Seldom he would play slower, more nostalgic tunes, to keep company to heavy-hearted loners or just for young lovers who wouldn’t not hear music with their ears - being focused only on their partner’s soft whispers - but who would feel it in their hearts.

He would play for the homeless, for the hungry miners, for the children and their mothers, for seamstresses and for the aimless wanderers and fortune seekers. Then the streets and saloons started to welcome more and more the dirty uniforms and boots of the Union troops, whose officers did not like music very much.

He would play for himself, and for his mothers, wandering from village to village ignoring that the thunder of the war was coming tumbling nearer and nearer.

Until one day he was woken up by a boot lightly poking his side - his eyes trailed over the uniform of a Union officer in a black hat, with a cold smile, telling him to get up and follow him. He knew by the sound of the man’s voice it was not an invitation.

He knew would not see his mothers ever again.

They’d brought him to the fort.

His companions were now war prisoners. Old haggard men, wrinkled faces and thin bodies wrapped in their big coats, youngsters slouching in dusty corners with empty eyes, strong men who would soon lose the spring in their step and the glint in their eyes along with their belongings - watches and hats and scarves which a few hours later would appear on the heads and wrists and around the necks of the officers and their friends.

When one of the men who still had the sparkle of life in their eyes protested a little too heatedly, he was escorted by Corporal Wallace to the officer’s log cabin. At the beginning he would not understand what was that for - strangely there was only a still silence coming from the cabin. That was until Corporal Carley gathered him and a few other men in the yard of the camp, equipped them with the instruments they’d been confiscated, and told them to start playing, and to play loud.

The orchestra he’d dreamed to be part of - harmonicas, trombones, flutes, and the chorus - was now a living nightmare. They were forced to play and sing until their fingers were numb and their voices coarse and their faces burnt from the sunlight - louder and louder to cover up the horrific screaming from the cabin, until it stopped, until Wallace had punched out the will to live from a man. This was no music dance to, to drink to, no tune for working people and women in love and sad drunkards - their stage was the scaffold and their audience were a crowd of walking dead.

At night, in the few hours when he got to fall asleep, he’d dreamed of playing his fiddle all alone in the dead silence of the camp. The bow flew over the strings and no tune would come out, but it made no difference because there was no one to hear it - the only sound filling the air being loud, broken screams of pain.

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Unbury the Bones: a Beyond Evil x Detroit Become Human fic

Prologue:

The first android police officers had been active in Seoul, and they largely stayed there. Everyone in Manyang knew that. They also knew that Lee Dongsik’s partner, some young kid who’d managed to stick it out with that lunatic, had gotten killed during a hostage situation one wet August night while Dongsik was still stuck in traffic. In his absence, the order was given to send in a negotiator, and that negotiator had been an android. No one really liked to talk about what had happened next.

Still, it wasn’t like Lee Dongsik had to worry about any of that now he had moved back to Manyang amidst dubious welcome. Androids weren’t a common thing around here. It seemed inconceivable that people in town would want—or need—that kind of assistance in their lives, which was what androids were supposedly for. It wasn’t just the cost (although with the increase in models and popularities, cheaper ones were coming on the market all the time), androids risked a hostile welcome in their little town—the damn androids took jobs, even farm jobs, and lucrative work was hard enough to come by around here. They didn’t complain, didn’t organize unions, could work for days with no decline in their job performance. And they looked so lifelike. It was creepy.

The exception proving the rule was the early-model, battered-looking android that had worked at the grocery store for years, and there were still those who gave it a wide berth—although general consensus was that this was a good thing for Kang Jin-mook, to have some reliable help at the store—what with that loud, flighty daughter of his spending her teens messing around town before swanning off to school in Seoul.

It was concern for Jin-mook that caused Park Jeong-je and Chief Nam to chip in for an RSAA90 for the grocer’s birthday the year that Min-jeong started high school (“this should count for at least the next ten birthdays,” the chief had joked), and despite his obvious initial apprehension, Jin-mook and “Helper” had settled into business just fine. RSAA90 models were built for customer service and light manual labor along with basic cleaning skills, and within a few months the bot’s cheery round face (Jae-Yi claimed it resembled Shindong from the early years of Super Junior) had become such a familiar sight making deliveries around town that older residents often forgot Helper was an android and urged it to stop in to have a drink during its rounds.

No one had dreamed the police in Manyang would get an android. For one thing, why would they need one? The station was over-staffed for the crime they didn’t have, as the most recent case had involved a drunk bar patron instigating a fight after someone had tried to turn down ahis favorite trot song on the radio; this had ended in a broken chair, some tears, and the bar’s new rule (made entirely in petty spite) of playing idol music only.

How would a programmed police android, destined for the violence and population of a city, even know how to deal with the quirks of small-town life? It sounded like a burden, rather than a gift. But Han Kihwan had been insistent in bestowing the HAN1020 on Manyang, where word had it he’d once lived briefly.

Even if the townspeople hadn’t largely disowned their former son twenty years ago, it was unlikely anyone would have dared to tell Lee Dongsik that an android was going to be his new partner on the force.

[cyberaxolotl]

Oh, The Blue, Blue Water: Chapter 1, Newtport and Reefburg

Bugsnax Merpeople AU Fanfic

Warnings: N/A

See AO3 Version for more specific tagging

Illustrations: 0

Words: 4.7k

Fic below the cut

Grumpus-kind never truly considered that there could be fully intelligent life aside from them. Rumors of grumpus-like beings but with lower halves of snakes or sea creatures were dismissed as fairy tales, becoming folklore to some, but deemed absurd by most scientists. Grumpuses with little interest in the ocean especially dismissed part-grumpus aquatic beings as fantasy, while those who did study the ocean considered it more, but still dismissed it until solid proof could be found.

A few states off from New Grump state was Falls Island, and on the coast of Falls Island was a town that specialized in oceanic endeavors; Newtport. Newtport was a hotspot for sailing, fishing, oceanography, diving, marine biology, and everything else you could want from a town on the edge of an open ocean. Almost everyone there owned a boat, kayak, canoe, or some form of water travel.

Several of the notable organizations in Newtport were the Newtport Marine Center, where science and studies took place in a private laboratory, as well as Wildlife Restoration of Newtport, the building for a non-profit organization dedicated to helping wildlife and cleaning the ocean.

Gramble had just walked into the building, carrying a bucket full of plastic, metal, and glass waste. “Jeez, Gramble!” He heard a coworker say to him, “Is ALL of that from the bay?”

He sighed, looking down into it. “It is, and there's more.” He walked through the room, walking up to a room labeled “storage.”

“I heard that all of that trash came from a college party. A bunch of young adults got drunk out of their minds and left all the trash there, would you believe it?” His coworker, Arinata, looked stressed. “I’d help, but we’ve got a diver coming to get a permit for the area, and I need to be here when she gets here.”

He turned away from the doorway. “Is Minette here? She usually helps out.”

“Minette’s busy taking a delivery to the recycling plant, it’s why the storage bins are all empty.” Gramble looked into the room he was next to, seeing that the five bins labeled metal, plastic, glass, electronic, and paper, were all empty. “And, uh, after you dump all of that, we got a request from the Marine Center.” She called out to him as he entered the storage room.

“What’s goin’ on?” He called back while sorting through the bucket of waste.

“They want us to bring in some of those parasites, the ones that are attacking the crustaceans. They’re looking for a way to prevent them and need samples from us.” Arinata explained, leaning over the front desk to look into the room. “You’re always removing parasites anyway, aren’t you?”

“I try to, when I find ‘em. How many do they need?”

“Uh, five, I think. Let me double-check.” He heard the wheels of an office chair followed by the clicking of a computer. “Yeah, it’s five. Can you get that by the end of the week?”

“I’ll see how many I can get today, I was too focused on the trash to look for any, but I should be able to do it.” He smiled to himself as he dumped the last of the trash into the bins, then walked back out.

“Thanks a lot, Gramble. I can't imagine the organization without someone as passionate about this as you are.” She smiled at him as he walked up to the desk.

“Oh, I just love animals ‘s all.” He waved his paw down at her, “It’s easy to do this job when I’ve read books about it since I was a kid.”

“We all appreciate your contributions so much, I hope you know that. You’re more paws-on about this than anyone else.” Before she could continue, a bell chimed, signaling the opening of the front door. She cleared her throat as she turned her chair, “Hello, welcome to Wildlife Restoration of Newtport!”

“G’day! I’m here for a diving permit?” She asked as she came up to the desk.

“Oh, you must be Elizabert! We were told by the divers union that you’d be coming, so here, let me look for your information.” Arinata turned to the computer, and Gramble took that as his cue to return to the bay, only hearing the start of the conversation. “You’re here for map-making and ecosystem surveying…”

The wildlife center was on a cliff above the shore, making it easy for the group to go up and down from the beach. Gramble spent most of his time down there, picking up scraps and looking over any creature that did not belong, or was otherwise hurt. It was, most often, just removing parasites from crustaceans or sending beached yet alive animals back into the water.

And even when he wasn’t playing his part at the organization, he was still looking after wildlife. On weekends he’d take his small boat out on the open ocean and watch the animals out on the sea, not disturbing them, not going in, only watching and sketching.

Elizabert was like that too.

“You’re here for map-making and ecosystem surveying, right?” Arinata asked, looking at her laptop.

“And recreation, but only once I’ve gotten my job done.” Lizbert nodded.

“Great, can I see your diving license?” The worker held her paw out. The explorer dug through her pocket, then handed over a small slip of plastic. “Thank you, let me jot all this down…” She hummed as she typed down some information. “How long have you been diving for?”

“Professionally? Thirteen years, but I’d go recreationally with my family as a kid. I’ve loved the thrill of adventure for as long as I can remember.” She smiled as she recounted her past years.

“Oh, that sounds lovely! I’m sure you’ve read up on the local fauna and know what to expect underwater?” Arinata could only give her a glance as she continued typing.

“Yup! I know pretty much what to expect for my first dive session here.” Lizbert nodded.

“Wonderful… You’re all set.” The worker put the license on the counter. “Have fun diving, and remember to clean up whatever you can!”

“Will do!” The diver pocketed her license and walked off, leaving the building to fall into silence.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Newtport Marine Center was hard at work. There were meetings happening on one floor, research happening on another, and scientists getting ready for boating trips on the dock outside the building. Floofty had several written notes in their paws as they got out of a boat, hurrying towards the building. The cold wind nipped at their fur, and they were eager to get their lab coat back on and digitalize those notes.

“Floofty!” Before they could get downstairs, someone called for them.

“Ditzie.” They greeted, turning to face him.

“I know you just got back from a boating trip, but we’re gonna need you upstairs.” He held a paw up to them, “We just got video footage back from as deep as the twilight zone, and the directors want you up there to review it.”

“...Tch.” They grunted. “Do I have time to give these to somebody?” They held up their notes.

“Go ahead, just be up in meeting room D in ten minutes!” With that, their fellow scientist stepped back and ran off.

They turned around to go downstairs, hurrying down the steps. They didn’t really have a desk space to themself, but they did have a laptop of their own, and one grumpus they trusted. Opening up their laptop, they opened up a document, then looked around. “Cora?” They called a girl nearby.

“Oh-? Yes, Floofty?” The coral-red grumpus turned to them.

“I’m needed in a meeting room, can you copy these notes into this document?” They asked, holding out the papers. “Shut it down when you’re done, I don’t need imbeciles stealing my work.”

“Now, you don't need to be calling anybody names, but sure!” She took the notes from them. “Are these from the boating trip you just went on?”

“Indeed they are. My thanks, Cora.” With that, Floofty walked past her. Or, started to.

“Ah, before you go, Floofty!” Once again, they were stopped in their tracks. “Did you hear about the rumors again? Ditzie thinks mermaids are real.”

“Of course Ditzie thinks that. He’s Ditzie.” They looked over their shoulder. “What does it have to do with me?”

“Well, what do YOU think about mermaids? I think it’s possible, grumpuses already come in many different types, but I also think it’s improbable. Especially given the advancements in technology and how we monitor the ocean, I doubt we’d have gone so long without seeing them.” She explained, holding their notes under her arm.

“Whether mermaids are real or not is not my concern until someone who’s concerned with finding them does. But if they are real, I doubt they’d be what we picture as “mermaids.”” They motioned with their paws, “All traditionally attractive women with the same emerald green lower bodies is unlikely, and I’d dare to say impossible if I didn’t know better.”

“That’s what I was thinking too, but yeah, when they probably aren’t real in the first place, I’m not gonna spend my time looking for them. Thank you for your time, I’ll go copy these down.” With that, Cora walked away, letting them walk away as well.

The workplace always kept Floofty busy, whether they liked it or not, they were one of the most focused and experienced scientists there. They had trained themself to be able to write without looking, and that, alongside their background in biology, made them an invaluable worker. As such, their hours were full and busy, leaving little time for leisure.

They could hear the distant bells of hunting ships docking as they headed upstairs.

One of those ships was home to a crew of sailors who fished and set crab traps, supplying the local seafood industry. “Good haul today, grumps!” The lady in charge yelled, an elderly woman, but very capable. Harpila had been sailing the seas for most of her life, and had only recently settled into a more industrial job. Walking down the ship, she gave her crew lively pats on the back. “I think we’re good for quite a while now. Wambus?” She stopped by someone.

Wambus turned around, holding a crate of fish in his arms. He had been looking for oceanic jobs like that for a while, and eventually found his way to Harpila’s crew. “Captain Harpila.” He greeted her.

“You’ve been doing very well recently, I’m pleased. Do you have a family that you’re doing all of this work for?” She asked.

“Captain, I know most of these grumps are fathers and husbands, you don’t gotta rub it in. I do this work to carry myself.” He sighed, looking past her.

“I’m not bringing you down, cariño, but men like you should be doing bigger things when they don’t have anything to go back to. Especially at your age.” Harpila looked away, her ears twitching. “Ah, I shouldn’t be pushing it when this crew needs you. I’m not asking you to leave.”

“Do YOU have a family that you’re doin’ this for?” Wambus questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I’m old, boy, I’m not doing this for anybody but myself anymore.” She turned away, walking a bit past him. “My family has passed, and my days to find love are over, unless Mother Naturae sends me an angel… Aha, maybe even an angel from the sea.” She looked out at the ocean. “If you want someone, I’m sure you’ll find them, but I’m saying that there should be something that you’re passionate about.”

“I’m just fine livin’ like this.” Walking with her, the two reached the exit off of the boat.

“Then live your best life like this.” With that, she descended the stairs alongside her crew.

Wambus huffed as he followed her, looking distantly away. He had inherited a farm in the western parts of New Jamsey, but after it turned into a bust and he lost the property, he turned to the only place he could; Newtport. He was lucky to have met Harpila at the time he had.

“Oh look, the big boats are docking.” A melodic voice said, out on the ocean.

“I saw them use that big net to get a whole school of salmon. Would you believe it?” A sassier voice said, “I should be eating those fish, not them!”

“Beff!” A wimpier voice replied, “You can’t- or, no, nevermind, I’ve seen you eat almost a whole school of fish before.”

“Those were sardines, Filbo, they don’t count. They’re hardly a meal even for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a stingray, darling, I doubt you have much room for fish in you at all.”

“I’m a MANTA ray, Wiggle, I’m the manta mayor!” He turned around, descending from the rocks they held onto and slipping into the ocean, then motioning for the other two to follow him.

They dropped down next to him with a splash. “What’s the difference, are all manta rays big wimps?” Beffica snarked, giggling.

“No, I- I don’t have a stinger!” Filbo cried as the three descended into the ocean.

“Isn’t it better than being an orca?” Wiggle noted.

“Heeey, being like me is sweet! Other than the resurfacing to breathe.” The pink seagrump said, rolling her eyes.

“And being hungry all the time?” The blue seagrump prompted.

“I’m not hungry all the time, I just naturally need to hunt. They call us killer whales for a reason.” She turned to the orange seagrump, “At least I’m something unique and not just some random fish.”

Wiggle gasped in defense. “I am a STAR fish, thank you!”

“What? You’re not a starfish, you’re a betta.” Filbo chuckled.

“A star fish, darling, not a starfish.” She repeated.

“You said the same thing twice.” Beffica scoffed.

“Oh, for grumps sake, I’m a POPstar!” She whined as the three entered deeper waters. Taking a glance back at the surface, she mumbled, “I wonder if I could perform for the landgrumps one day.”

“You know why we don’t do that, Wiggle,” The mayor replied, “I have nightmares thinking about what might happen if they find us.” He squeaked anxiously.

“Yes, but I’m sure they’d love a good performance.” Wiggle smiled, clicking her claws together.

“They’d watch you and then scoop you up in their big net.” Beffica rolled her eyes, “I’m not scared about it like Filbo and that hermit are, but you’re not gonna find me singing to the air.”

“That hermit has a name, Beff.” Filbo corrected, “…I haven’t HEARD his name in a long time, but he has one.”

She stuck out her tongue at him and swam away, turning towards a rocky, mossy wall. “I need to get some bubbles before I drown.” She said all too casually, and then disappeared underneath a crack in the rocks.

Filbo and Wiggle followed her, going underneath a hood of rocks, and then being greeted by a drop-off. Going through the drop-off, they were in a cave, lit by bioluminescent plants and decorated by coral and kelp. A driftwood sign held up by kelp read “Reefburg.”

“We’re back from land-watching!” The mayor called out, descending upon the town. Beffica had already made her way to the center of town, to a patch of anemones blowing bubbles, and was scooping up handfuls of air.

A green seagrump turned around the corner. “Heeeey, I was wondering where you three were!” He greeted them, coming out fully and revealing a mantis-shrimp lower body.

“Nice to see you in town, Chandlo!” Filbo said as they swam up to each other. “How are you and…” He tapped his paws together, “…The axolotl..?”

“Snorpy and I are good, he’s the same as usual. We’re figuring out what we wanna do for winter and getting ready.” The muscular seagrump explained, motioning at a bag full of seaweed that he carried.

“Does it really change that much when you’re that deep underwater?” The mayor questioned.

“Changes enough that we’d be asleep all winter if we didn’t.” Chandlo shrugged, “I think we can try to catch you guys while you’re all moving!”

“That sounds good! We haven’t figured out our plans as a town yet, but I think it’ll be the same as last year,” Filbo turned away, “I need to get home, but come see me next time you come here, I bet you could come land-watch with us!”

“I’ll try to catch ya, dawg!” He gave his farewells, then turned away as well. There was one more thing he wanted to do during that time in Reefburg, and a tunnel through the sand was going to bring him to it. Leaving his bag of seaweed at the entrance, he descended into an ominous rocky pit.

It was a short swim through the tunnel, and he exited out into a big, dark space. There were jellyfish scattered around, glowing with cold blue light, but more importantly, a warmer light illuminated the figure of another seagrump.

“Shellsy!” He called out to her.

The elderly seagrump looked over her shoulder, the sea-glass on the ground reflecting the bioluminescent glow in her tail. “Ah, Chandlo, my child.” She greeted when she recognized him, turning around. Her lower half was that of a translucent sea angel’s, a duo of lights in the middle of and at the tip of her tail. “It’s been a while since you have stopped by.”

He swam up to her side, stopping next to her. “Sorry, Sheldawg, there’s been a lot going on.”

“I understand. Not many have as much time to meditate beneath the lights of the Mother.” She motioned broadly at the jellyfish in the room. She reached between the kelp that was wrapped around her chest, pulling out a golden pendant from one of the outer layers. “Do you have the time to sit and resonate?” She asked as she held it out to him, both of her paws clasped on it.

The pendant had a flower carved into it, one that neither of them recognized, and Shellsy believed it was something meaningful from the surface. He held it as well, “Only for a few minutes, I think.”

“That works, child, the Mother appreciates the effort of time spent.” They both held the pendant, the gold reflecting light onto the sea-glass, and the sea-glass reflecting colors into the dark space. Chandlo relaxed with a small smile, he felt very comfortable in the dark; he didn’t prefer it, but he’d gotten used to it, given him and Snorpy’s living conditions.

“Empty your mind…” Shellsy started, her voice low, “Picture yourself in the water, descending deeper, past the zone of sunlight, through the zone of twilight, and into the midnight. Do not feel cold, there is somebody right there with you.”

He took a deep breath, shoulders slacking. He heard the small clicks of his tail against sea-glass, unable to feel it through his exoskeleton, but fully hearing the sound.

“The Mother holds your paw in the darkest parts of our home. Do not feel the colossal squid of sorrows, you are protected so long as she is with you. You are safe, no matter how far you go.” Shellsy also took a deep breath, the glow of her tail dimming. “Meditate on this. Find a feeling of safety.”

They fell into silence in the darkness, holding the pendant, surrounded only by stones and jellyfish. The only sounds around them were the clicking of rocks, the movement of water… And the voices right above them.

“…Hmph.” Shellsy huffed as the minutes passed and it became impossible to ignore. “It’s times like this where I wish we weren’t beneath the Wigglebottom residence.” They both looked up at the rocky ceiling.

“I think it’s good that Wigdawg gets along with her sister.” Chandlo shrugged, hearing squeaky voices through the ceiling.

“Oh, yes, it is pleasant. It’s unusual for siblings with such an age difference to get along like that.” She took the pendant back as the other seagrump let it go. “I just wish getting along wasn’t roughhousing. Thank you for coming to meditate, my child.”

“Thanks for the guidance, I’ll come back earlier next time!” He turned away, swimming for the exit.

In the undersea home above, the Wigglebottom residence was bustling. “Come on, who’s the best big sister in the ocean~?” Wiggle had her little sister clutched against her, who was squirming and punching.

“Hmm, I don’t know!” Imimi giggled, “I think it’s Jess- daah-!” She squealed as she was flipped around, tussled through the water.

“Oh come on, you know it couldn’t be Jessany, try again!” The extravagant seagrump sang, keeping her eyes on her little sister.

“Why not? I’ve never heard Beffica complain about her big sis.” The little girl crossed her arms, “I’m sure she’d have a good shot for best big sister!”

“Imimi, swe-etie, does Jessany let her little sister have whatever snacks she wants without telling their parents?” The popstar lurched for her younger sister, picking her up and holding her close again.

“Beffica’s an adult, I think she does what she wants.” Imimi blew raspberries at her sister after she spoke.

Wiggle scoffed, “You are SO much like mom, it’s not even funny.” She groaned, getting a confused look back. “I just want some appreciation from my baby sister before she goes back home and I’m left all alone.”

“I’m not a baby!” The little girl pulled away, snapping around. “And you won’t be alone here, you have, uh…” She started, then stopped. After a pause, she put her paws on her hips. “Wow, you’re twenty-nine and you don’t have a boyfriend yet.”

The popstar gasped. “That is none of your- ough!” She crossed her arms and looked away, “You’re eleven and you haven’t dropped that attitude yet.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Hello?” Wiggle called over.

The door opened to reveal a white, pink-tailed seagrump. “Is everything okay in here? I heard yelling.”

“Ah, yes Eggabell, we’re fine.” The popstar waved her paw at the doctor. “Imimi and I were just having a sisterly bonding moment.”

“Uh… Really? I thought I heard arguing.” Eggabell questioned, looking between them.

“Oh darling, we never argue.”

“Yes we do?” Imimi huffed in reply.

“We don’t argue, Imimi, we play-fight.” Wiggle glared at her sister.

“No, I think we argue.” The younger seagrump put her paws on her hips.

“When? When have we ever argued, sweetie?”

Suddenly, she smiled. “Right now.” She said, before swimming away to the upper floor.

Wiggle looked upwards, dumbfounded, and Eggabell looked on with wide eyes. “You- I… Snrk-!” The popstar started to giggle, turning to the doctor, “Siblings sure are something, aren’t they?”

“I’m an only child, unless you wanna count the nurse sharks I look after.” The white mergrump looked away.

“Ah, that explains it.” The betta squeaked, swishing her tail. “Trust me, darling, Imimi and I have a normal sisterly relationship.”

“We are ANYTHING but normal!” Imimi shouted from upstairs.

“I wasn’t TALKING TO YOU!” Wiggle shouted up, then turned back to Eggabell. “Very normal.”

“…Yeah.” The doctor muttered, closing the door and swimming away. “Oh- Chandlo!” She almost bumped into her fellow seagrump, “Are you leaving town already?”

“Eggabro, hey!” He greeted, and they gave each other a small hug. “I musta missed you, I’m on my way out.”

“Well, safe travels! I heard that it’s viperfish season right now.” She warned, holding her paws together.

He chuckled, “Viperfish are nothing on me, bro.” He signed hand-horns, biting his tongue.

“They’re still a little freaky, especially down in the dark.” She looked down, as though staring into the sea, but actually at the ground’s cloak of sand.

“…You’re a shark, Egg.”

“I-“ She paused, freezing up. “…Point taken! Swim safely, and tell Snorpy I hope he’s well.”

“I’ll try to catch you earlier next time I’m in town!” He waved her a goodbye, swimming off and out of Reefburg. He was going from cave to cave, but the difference was the descent from the sunlight zone to much deeper down.

It was a smooth descent out of Reefburg and down into the ocean, Chandlo seeing the fish and flora around him go from frequent, to sparser, to too dark to see clearly. The silhouettes of rock faces were his only indication that he was on the right path besides his distinct memory of the area. The transition from distant sunlight to deep blue waters was his signal: he had entered the twilight zone.

The soft glow of a lanternfish appeared nearby him, swimming away when his tail reflected the light back at it. The temporary light revealed a hitch in the rock face to him, and as he closely followed a crack, he knew he was almost home.

A pit of darkness gaped at him, a large, frightening sight. For a moment, he was filled with a primal fear, but it was overcome by a more welcoming sound: metal clanking. A sound that meant home.

Swimming inside, he saw the artificial glow of a lantern, something that his companion had made a long time ago. “Snoooooorpy~!” He called out, a smile coming onto his face.

He heard a soft gasp as he passed over one more wall of stone and entered their living space. Snorpy was curled into a corner, using a crude hammer with a driftwood handle on a piece of metal. “Ah- Chandlo!” He perked up, turning around and uncurling. “That was a rather quick trip of yours, I do hope you said hello to somebody.”

“I took some extra time to hang with Shellsy, and had a talk with Eggabro, but I didn’t wanna leave you for long.” He let go of the bag of seaweed, leaving it stagnant in the water. “Egg said she hopes you’re well.” He quoted.

“Nice of her to be concerned, ah… Is Wiggle still around?” Snorpy glanced away at a table covered in cloth and photographs, with pebbles holding them down.

“Wiggle’s doing great, I heard her and her sister play-fighting. It’s nice to see sisters being sisterly, isn’t it?” Chandlo turned away, moving over to his side of the room.

“I suppose so.” The axolotl had swam over to his table and was now readjusting the pebbles. “Hm… I am a bit concerned about what to do in the coming months…”

“Why wouldn’t we do what we did last year?” The shrimp raised an eyebrow, “That, or we can go with the Reefburg group! Filbo invited us to join them.”

“Eh…” Snorpy turned to a pile of soggy maps near the edge of his bed. Picking one up, he grabbed a pebble, and traced a path across it. “…No, if we go with them, we’re bound to be captured by Grumpbeard. Too many seagrumps all in one place.”

Chandlo looked away, unsure. “We'll do whatever you want, Snorpdawg.” He let out, resting on his bed.

“Hmph, if we did whatever I wanted, then I’d be sleeping through the winter. Unfortunately I would starve by December.” The yellow seagrump put the maps down, then swam over to the suspended bag of seaweed. “Thank you for getting the materials, but where is my sewing kit?”

“You have a sewing kit?” The green seagrump’s eyes widened, confused.

“I hardly believed it either, but I found it a few weeks ago!” The axolotl looked under his bed, perked up, and then pulled out a metal container. “Some landgrump lost an entire sewing kit, thread and all!” Opening it up, he revealed a smaller container of needles, a bunch of buttons, and several unrestrained spools of thread. “The box says that it belonged to some “C. Quizsparkle.” It’s on them for dropping it into the ocean.” Picking out a needle and thread, he grabbed a bushel of seaweed.

“…Hm.” Chandlo fell silent with a smile, watching his counterpart set up and begin to sew. It was a long, cold swim from Reefburg to their home, and he was always a little tired afterwards, so being able to watch a simple activity made the fatigue wash right out of his body.

On land, and undersea, grumps had jobs to do and roles to play. But soon, they’d be more connected than they ever thought they could be.