#lexington plant

[novvaable]

Hey again! Hope you don’t mind me asking another question. So I was wondering what are your must haves for when building a house? Like lights, specific furniture pieces that are your go to or something like that if that makes sense? Thanks! ❤️🫶

I went a little rouge when it came to answering this ask - there are SO many items of cc I love and so many creators that create amazing content, it’s hard to sit and list to every single thing.

I figured it would be best to showcase cc I use frequently within my builds; it helps to highlight which creators cc I tend to use most!

novvvas rahat set - table lamp converted by martassimsbook

charly pancakes - the candle converted by twinsimming

hydra small bookshelf by hydrangeachainsaw

lexington painting frame by onxyium (tsr)

novvvas kirsal set - candles converted by martassimsbook

hydra tulips vase by hydrangeachainsaw

awingedllama blooming rooms plants converted by martassimsbook

decor slippers by leosims converted by simstiful

novvvas desino poster horizontal v1 converted by martassimsbook

mechtasims frog planter -converted by martassimsbook

smaller tulips 2t3 by kirthri (mts)

aria bed bench by mutske (tsr)

mojito home collection living room single chair & couch by cemre (tsr)

madison sofa blanket by onyxium (tsr)

ikea ypperlig pillows by mxims converted by over-waxed bannister

novvvas kirsal set part 3 sofa cushion converted by martassimsbook

hunt dining wall panel widow high by mutske (tsr)

bouquet of rose by pixelfrogslegs

novvvas rahat set - candle open converted by martassimsbook

meinkatz platform tray converted by martassimsbook

mxims ironica dining chair converted by gruesim

dining aria table 2x1 by mutske (tsr)

orinoko reed diffuser by gosik (tsr)

sunday-sims ceramic jars converted by martassimsbook

??

hydra ugly vase by hydrangeachainsaw

novvvas rahat set - leaning poster converted by martassimsbook

madison painting frame by onyxium (tsr)

novvvas decor set marta sculpture converted by martassimsbook

chicklet mid century modern bar converted by martassimsbook

syb laundry - drying rack folded converted by pixelrabbit

tantalum refrigerator - by wondymoon (tsr)

ballard kitchen counter by gosik (tsr)

ballard kitchen stove by gosik (tsr)

pot by BCS3 (?)

pinkboxdesigns spring 23 set lily of the valley converted by martaassimsbook

nordica-sims paper towel converted by martassimsbook

soloyria hibo decor set cutting boards converted by martassimsbook

akira mug rack by sim_man123 (tsr)

utensils by BCS3 (?)

soloyria hibo decor set two bowls converted by martassimsbook

wooden dish rack by ats3

I think this really highlights that I LOVE all @martassimsbook creations! the tsr can also be quite neglected due to annoying dl times - but again there’s a lot of creators with some really quality content.

it’s defo worth checking out @wanderingsimsfinds / @pis3update / @emilyccfinds / @katsujiiccfinds :)

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

ATM Carrier

Mass: 65 tons Movement Type: Tracked Power Plant: InterComBust 180 ICE Cruising Speed: 32.4 kph Maximum Speed: 64.8 kph Armor: Lexington Ltd. High Grade FF Armament: 2 Small Pulse Laser 1 TAG 8 Improved ATM 6 Manufacturer: Quikscell Company Primary Factory: Oliver Communication System: Communicator Targeting & Tracking System: FireScan with IndirecTrack Introduction Year: 3153 Tech Rating/Availability: F/X-X-X-X Battle Value: 2,359

Type: ATM Carrier Technology Base: Mixed (Experimental) Movement Type: Tracked Tonnage: 65 Battle Value: 2,359

Equipment Mass Internal Structure 6.5 Engine 195 XXL 4.5 Cruising MP: 3 Flank MP: 5(6) Heat Sinks: 10 0 Control Equipment: 3.5 Power Amplifier: 0.0 Turret: 3.5 Armor Factor (Ferro) 115 6 Internal Armor Structure Value Front 7 28 R/L Side 7/7 23/23 Rear 7 18 Turret 7 23

Weapons and Ammo Location Tonnage TAG Turret 1.0 2 Small Pulse Laser Turret 2.0 8 Improved ATM 6 Turret 28.0 Nova Combined Electronic Warfare System Body 1.5 Supercharger Body 0.5 CASE Body 0.0 High-Explosive iATM/6 Ammo (80) Body 8.0

Features the following design quirks: Battle Computer, Improved Communications, Improved Targeting (Long), Improved Targeting (Medium), Improved Targeting (Short), Improved Sensors, Power Reverse, Trailer Hitch

[itookyoudown]

tumblr user tooks, resident expert on Timmy Gutterson, do you have any thoughts about what his home life is like? presumably he rents, but is it a house? does he have housemates? does he get along well with his neighbours? I struggle to imagine him out of work mode and would value your insight OR indeed any fics about this that you may recommend…thank you…

oh hell yes i do have Tim homestyle thoughts get ready for my Tim Talk 🗣️🗣️🗣️

i'd definitely say he rents an apartment over a house. though i could see him renting a townhouse too. while the show never deigns to tell us where Tim is from (RIP) i do believe if he was intended to be a local Kentucky boy they would have told us because that would have had extreme plot relevance, so, i don't believe Tim is looking to plant any roots in Kentucky. i actually can see him moving on after he's finished his initial duty station in Lexington. Tim has such a specialized and highly desired skillset i actually feel like he'd end up in SOG at some point or in a major city.

anyways.

Tim is definitely one of those guys who hasn't had a proper home since his childhood. a house is too permanent for him. i like to think he's even afraid of having a house and therefore a home due to trauma.

as for a roomie situation... absolutely not lol. that boy needs his privacy and isolation to both wind down and break down 😌

also look. i know some folks will swear up and down that Tim's starter salary as a US marshal somewhere in the ballpark of 40k to 60k would mean he'd need roommates and be struggling...but let's be serious.

he lives in Lexington, Kentucky in 2010. and Tim, as far as we know from his unfortunate lack of canon facts about his personal life, has no living family, no dependents, and no partner. he only has to look after himself. he wouldn't even have university debt to pay off - his military service means as a veteran he had priority preference being hired by the marshals. no college degree needed. even if he's shit at budgeting and splurging on the whims of a childish nerdy young adult (and functional alcoholic), he really shouldn't have an issue affording a two-bedroom apartment for himself.

Tim's a salaried professional in a career with benefits lol.

due to Tim's work hours and being gone so much, he's probably an ideal neighbor ... until he gets drunk and plays music (and fucks) way too loud. but overall i like to think he's a considerate neighbor so long as your bedroom wall isn't connected to his. definitely the type to shovel the sidewalks in the winter and such.

overall, i think Tim outside of work keeps to himself for the most part. he drinks in his apartment unless he's looking for a hookup. reads a lot. plays a lot of video games. jogs daily. likes camping. likes to draw. takes all the vacation he gets to visit war buddies.

as for fic recommendations, i explored my take on Tim's living situation in that's amore.

also i know i just preached how i don't think a house fits Tim, HOWEVER, one of my favorite Tim character study fics does deal with that idea: The Room Next to Mine by leslielol.

and that's it. that's my Tim talk.

[alex-perry]

name: alexander “alex” perry (no relation to katy perry)

age: 32

birthday: january 22

zodiac: aqua sun, libra moon, virgo rising

place of birth: minneapolis, minnesota

occupation: architect 

neighborhood: asbury bay

mbti: infp

pinterest

this is alex and he is the most beige human you could ever imagine.

he is THAT guy who considers “meal prepping” an extreme sport.

bio:

he’s from minnesota, which is like just a giant icy wasteland filled with nice, boring people who think a wild night is a trip to ikea (maybe that's what shaped his taste in interior design but we will get into that soon). his father frank is a civil engineer. his mother susan is an english teacher. he has a younger sister named amelia, who recently graduated from college. his parents' whole philosophy is hard work and practicality, which is just code for “let’s suck all the fun out of life.”

alex's dad richard was raised uber christian in small-town in lexington nebraska, but everything changed when he went to college. cue the culture shock: he met new people, encountered different ideas, and quickly realized the world wasn’t quite like the way he was told in his little church. he met susan, a free-spirited liberal who basically turned his worldview upside down. when they decided to get married, as you can guess, richard's family did not take that well and all hell broke loose. his family basically went all 'THIS IS THE FUTURE THE LIBERALS WANT!!!' route ofc.

because of this divine union, his dad has been banished from the good ol' conservative family circle. they probably think he’s gone to the dark side. he only keeps in touch with one of his cousins. (the one happens to be the father of alex's quirky cousin andrew. and andrew is a chaotic entrepreneur, who lives in silicon valley).

he is also cousins with miss dakota @dakota-perry

so it's safe to say they don't spend much time with his father's siblings. the Perry fam only visits them during holidays.....

little alex was the type who actually did his homework on time and actually got excited about things like mowing the lawn. so it wasn't a surprise when he graduated top of his class and got a scholarship to mit. he studied architecture because.... well, bc he had no other hobbies. and i guess alex wanting to become an architect ever since he was a middle schooler played a role in that decision too.....

he aced his courses, probably wearing one of those dreadful beige cardigans, and designed buildings that weren’t about to fall anytime soon. in MIT he was the one who did all the work in a group project while everyone else was off having a good time. not because he was a control freak, it's bc he actually loved architecture. nothing got his blood pumping like a well-drafted blueprint. and as you can guess, he wasn't exactly fending off crowds of admirers with his passion for structural integrity lsfkslafkalsf

alex in a group project:

after mit, he moved to new york cityyyyyyyyyyy (pls read that with laszlo's voice). he got a job at an architecture firm called thompson & rivera architects, a mid-sized firm with just the right amount of prestige without the snobbery. he had a little apartment in hell's kitchen. his place looked like someone took an ikea catalog, sucked out all the personality, and called it home. minimalist to the point of tragedy, with a potted plant that only survived because it couldn’t be bothered to die.

alex didn’t just wake up and decide to move to asbury for the fun of it(that would be far too spontaneous for the practical prince). his design firm, landed a new project: a modern, trendy boutique hotel in town. he was picked as one of the junior architects to join the senior architects in overseeing the project. he’s not the lead designer OBVIOUSLY, but he's definitely in the inner circle, making sure everything’s structurally correct.

personality:

alex is awfully practical, grounded, and a bit of a perfectionist. and he justifies this by saying "i’m not being picky, i’m being precise". alex's idea of a VERY WILD night would be marie kondo-ing his collection of architectural books and magazines. despite his boring demeanor, he actually has a sense of humor and SURPRISINGLY he can take a joke. to mingle with the local folks, he joined the local bowling team. tbh he’s not the most outgoing person, but he values deep, meaningful relationships over casual friendships. once he is your friend, that means it's going to last forever.

outside of work alex enjoys cycling. (actually a little bit too much, he is cycling around as if he is training for tour de france). and then there’s his cooking obsession. during quarantine, he got into cooking and suddenly became that person who binged every jamie oliver video in existence. next thing you know, he be baking his own sourdough.

well, he has 'mild' ocd. and when I say mild, that's actually an understatement. he is very particular when it comes to organizing his workspace—everything has its place, and he gets mildly irritated if someone moves his things. he’s known to be a bit of a coffee snob, always in search of the perfect cup, and can be annoyingly particular about his brew (as someone who does not know shit about the coffee, I wonder how am i gonna write about this little quirk but we shall see).

OH OH OH ALSO HE IS A HUGE FAN OF THE KILLERS

connection ideas

cycling buddy: soo this dumbass is in a cycling group called "the pedal -pushers," (so original, i know). the group is full of people who take their biking way too seriously. their conversations are not the most entertaining to be honest, such as the best tire pressure or which helmet brand is the best. alex usually shows up in full cycling gear, complete with a helmet with green reflective stripes. that was his way of celebrating the brat summer.

barista (friend or nemesis depending how much they can tolerate alex): a local barista and fellow coffee enthusiast who shares his love for a perfect cup of coffee. orrr simply hating him because he always finds some fault in his coffee.

bowling team / squad: he also recently joined a bowling team. i'd love to discuss the team name and its details, so feel free to hmuuuuu

[b3thesda-b3tch]

Fallout 4 Bobblehead Locations

Concord/Lexington Area - NW

Perception bobblehead - Museum of Freedom: On a desk next to a broken terminal in the back of the room where the player character first meets Preston Garvey.

Repair bobblehead - Corvega assembly plant: On the very end of the top exterior gantry (blue balloon), southwest roof section of the plant building on top of a wooden box.

Saugus/Salem Area - NE

Explosives bobblehead - Saugus Ironworks: In the blast furnace, on the second level catwalk behind Slag's spawn, sitting on top of a control panel attached to the wall to the left of a steamer trunk.

Charisma bobblehead - Parsons State Insane Asylum: On Jack Cabot's office desk, close to the elevator, administration area.

Sneak bobblehead - Dunwich Borers: On a small metal table by a lantern, right next to the metal post terminal area #4.

Barter bobblehead - Longneck Lukowski's Cannery: Inside the metal catwalk hut, northwest upper area of the main cannery room.

Science bobblehead - Malden Middle School (Vault 75): On the desk overlooking the subterranean "training" area, within the science labs.

Central West Area (North of Natick)

Energy - Fort Hagen Command Center: In the command center, southwest kitchens, on a small table between two fridges. (Accessible only during/after the main quest Reunions).

Boston Area - Central

Lock picking bobblehead - Pickman Gallery: Last tunnel chamber where one can see Pickman; On the ground between brick pillars and a bin fireplace.

Strength bobblehead - Mass Fusion building: On the head of the metal wall statue/sculpture five levels above the lobby desk.

Speech bobblehead - Park Street station (Vault 114): In the overseer's office on the desk. Found when rescuing Nick Valentine after he goes missing.

Intelligence bobblehead - Boston Public Library: On the computer bank, mechanical room, northwest corner of the library.

Melee bobblehead - Trinity Tower: On a table in the cage where Rex Goodman and Strong are being held.

Medicine bobblehead - Vault 81: In Curie's office, southeast corner of the Vault.

Quincy Area - SE

Unarmed bobblehead - Atom Cats garage: On the hood of the rusty car in the main warehouse.

Endurance bobblehead - Poseidon Energy: On the metal desk with a magazine, near steamer trunk, central metal catwalk.

Agility bobblehead - Wreck of the FMS Northern Star: On the edge of the bow of the ship, wooden platform.

Luck bobblehead - Spectacle Island: In the 2nd deck pilot house of a green tugboat located at the southern end of Spectacle Island, on a locker shelf near the steamer trunk.

South Central Area

Small guns bobblehead - Gunners plaza: On the broadcast desk in the on-air room, first floor, west side of the building.

Big guns bobblehead - Vault 95: In the living quarters area, northern most room, on a radio.

[redux-iterum]

Excuse you, you can’t say that you have fish and not pay the pet tax.

Not when the god damn tank is so unpresentable! I will give you fish facts to make up for that:

DALLAS: Smallest molly, pure black. Well-mannered and likes following everybody else around. He is very cute and my favorite.

LEXINGTON: Orange with some black spots on his side and tail. Likes to kinda just swim in place until startled into moving. Also likes to hang out in the little cave I bought by himself.

ST. LOUIS: Yellow-and-black spotted. Good boy who causes no problems. Surprisingly not that hard to tell him and the next boy apart.

NEW ORLEANS: Yellow-and-black spotted with a yellow-fringed tail. Pronounced "Nawlins". Has scared the shit out of me multiple times by seemingly disappearing, only to be in the back of the tank or beneath a plant.

UKIAH: Palest molly, creamy-orange. Has been the subject of problems by both being harassed nonstop by the guppies I bought (I have since returned them) the most out of all of the other boys and having a single dark spot that I keep thinking is a wound, so I keep checking him and making him nervous. Very gentle lad.

SPRINGFIELD: Pure orange. He loves to lay down in this one specific spot in the tank and just hang out there all day. I don't know if he's sick or what, but every time I convince him to scoot out of there and swim around the tank, I find him back there minutes later. He's even gotten the other boys to hang out with him there too. It causes me great distress because I don't know why he's doing that, but he hasn't died yet, so maybe it's fine?

ALBANY: Mostly yellow with a good number of black spots. He's a recent purchase and hasn't really demonstrated much personality yet, so I'm studying him. So far he likes to hang out at the surface and swim around slowly.

PHOENIX: Black and yellow, but by far the biggest. He's got a very pretty tail compared to the other boys, and is the one who made me discover that mollies actually can grow like goldfish. I now hope they all only get to be about his size, because Christ. There's eight of these fuckers. I do not have the room for them all to get big.

THE JANITORS: A trio of pygmy suckermouths. Cannot tell them apart, but they're very cute and like to avoid drama. When I had the guppies they kept away and just stuck to cleaning the tank. I appreciate them for doing their best, even with the ever-growing tower of work they have cut out for them.

[warrenwoodhouse]

Bobbleheads - Fallout 4 Guide (Game Guides) (Guides) (Warren Guides)

Guide and Photo Mode photo by @warrenwoodhouse #warrenwoodhouse

CLICK HERE to see an archived version of this list. The location of the Endurance Bobblehead was changed in the Update Patch v1.12 on the PS4, Xbox One, Steam, Bethesda Launcher and PC version of the game.

Luck Bobblehead: Spectacle Island: In a locker on the 2nd floor of a green boat

Agility Bobblehead: Wreck of the FMS North Star: On a wooden platform on the edge of the bow of the ship

Endurance Bobblehead: Poseidon Energy in Quincy: original release: On the central metal catwalk on a metal desk with a magazine near the steamer trunk | v1.12 update: It’s in a room near the central metal catwalk

Unarmed Bobblehead: Atom Cats Garage: On the hood of a rusty car in the main warehouse

Small Guns Bobblehead: Gunners Plaza: On the broadcast desk in the on-air room, ground floor, west side of the building

Big Guns Bobblehead: Vault 95: In the living quarters area, northernmost room, on a radio

Medicine Bobblehead: Curie’s Office in the Secret Vault in Vault 81: In the Secret Vault area, in Curie’s Office, south-west corner of the room on top of a table

Melee Bobblehead: Trinity Tower: On a table in the cage where Rex Goodman and Strong are being held captive

Intelligence Bobblehead: Boston Public Library: On top of the computer bank in the mechanical room, north-west corner of the library

Energy Weapons Bobblehead: Fort Hagen Command Center in Fort Hagen: South-west kitchens on a small table between two fridges

Speech Bobblehead: Overseer’s Office in Vault 114: On top of the Overseer’s Desk in the Overseer’s Office

Strength Bobblehead: Mass Fusion Building: add

Repair Bobblehead: Corvega Motors Assembly Plant in Lexington: add

Barter Bobblehead: Longneck Lukowski’s Cannery: add

Explosives Bobblehead: Saugus Ironworks: In the Blast Furnace area of the ironworks

Perception Bobblehead: Museum of Freedom, Concord: In the room where the settlers are holding up

Science Bobblehead: Vault 75

Charisma Bobblehead: Parson’s Insane Asylum: On a table in the room where you find Edward Deagan near the lift/elevator

Sneak Bobblehead: Dunwich Borers: add

Lock Picking Bobblehead: Pickman’s Gallery in the North End District of Boston: In the catacombs deep underground inside a secret section of the gallery

Changelog

2nd June 2024 at 7:00 am: Moved post to my Tumblr blog

10th June 2018 at 11:00 am: Updated post with new location of “Endurance Bobblehead” as of the recent update of v1.12

14th September 2015 at 9:00 am: Created post

[fairytalemorgue]

lexington-samaaaa <3333 spookiest story/occurrence etc u can think of (happened to u or stuff u heard abt whichever) pleaseeeeee ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Hello, angelcake ^^

I saw this a while ago (grain of salt, it might have been a stunt).

So there's this app that would assign random coordinates, presumably somewhat nearby. The idea was you were meant to go there just to explore without knowing the route? I guess?

Anyway, a couple of people ended up getting a location that was in the middle of some woods, no path going directly to it, they had to even leave their bikes behind because there was no way to navigate through the dense crap growing everywhere.

When they'd arrived at the precise coordinates they'd been given, they found a car that had been very clearly involved in a huge wreck. It was destroyed, there were toys and personal effects everywhere around it... But not even a footpath that lead to it. The car couldn't have wrecked in the woods; there were trees in every direction and unbroken plants. It would have also been difficult to move it there, but not impossible (this seems most likely, that it wrecked somewhere else and they assembled it there).

They ended up hearing something in their recordings, it's been a while since I saw the video but I believe it was a child's voice, that they didn't hear while they were investigating the wreck.

Even if it was a stunt for social media, it's still a pretty eerie one.

I probably didn't explain it correctly, sorry about that, it's been a while so most of the details are gone.

[melmac78]

Here is chapter 4 of my Lexington WIP. I have one more chapter before there’s a decent overhaul of the story.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Photos include the ship when I went at night (above, though this is dusk), and the bunk I slept in on Live Aboard as well as last tour. The photos are what they’d see in this chapter.

•••••

It was a clear night in Corpus Christi. The new moon allowed for the ability to see stars aboard the Lexington if someone faced the ocean.

Soft blue lights were lighting up the tower of the carrier, reflecting its “Blue Ghost” moniker.

Inside however, there was a personal maelstrom forming in John’s mind.

He felt very claustrophobic in the dark, windowless room that was two decks below the hangar.

The feeling took him by surprise after all five brothers went to bed. It was Taps after an exciting - and slightly stressful - day on the Lexington.

It was freezing cold in their berth - and while his brothers appreciated the temps, John tossed and turned on his foam mattress.

“Maybe I should write a dissertation on how 1940s climate control is colder than space,” mused John sarcastically as he laid back on the bunk.

The sleeping bag he used on top of the mattress didn’t warm him up - though part of the chill wasn't from the temperature. It was the fact he couldn’t see the skies.

John kept his eyes closed trying to imagine himself in open space with windows.

He found it hard to imagine himself back in space on Thunderbird Five, since EOS always kept the temperature at - at least his feelings then - warmer 68 degrees for him.

This was especially true when the beds in the berth were stacked three tall, feeling like a room full of stasis pods.

Sighing, he tossed the cover of the sleeping bag off.

"I've got to warm up a little," he muttered.

Afraid he would wake his brothers, he carefully got out of the low-heighted bed, put on his clamdiggers and slipped on thin sand shoes before leaving as quietly as he could.

That was until he had a feeling as though the bunks would fall, crushing him. Giving a tiny gasp, he quickly went out the door to reach the stairway.

The feeling of panic intensified as the rough cover of the stair steps pressed into his feet like a branding iron.

John hurried as he ran through the living area and up the stairs to the top.

He quickly walked through hanger deck doorways, so focused on his quest to get to the flight deck, he nearly ran into the firewalls now up to cool the deck more for guests to hear ghost stories.

Fortunately he heard the yelps from a few stragglers heading to the berths after story time, allowing him to change course mere inches from a face plant.

The college students greeted him as he walked by. They thought he was the first one to have to do the fire checks on the ship - but for John it was as brief respite from the fire of fear chasing him.

Reaching the bridge tour entrance, John climbed up the stairs to the launching deck.

He took several large gulps of air, calming himself down physically from the quick walk he was unaccustomed too, but from his nerves as well.

John briefly thought that if he did have claustrophobia he would not tell his brothers. They didn't need anything else to add to the list for teasing.

Or worse, have to test him to see if he would be able to continue serving on Thunderbird Five.

No he’d be able to serve - it was a case of “I need space - on earth.”

Once out in the open air, the warmer sea breeze in his hair made him feel much better.

John lingered among the vintage aircraft looking at each fighter, imagining what it must have been like to fly one of them. While he could see Scott's love of older airplanes, at the same time he was glad he never had to fly one in real life. Definitely with how small the cockpits were.

The astronaut then looked at the old city bridge and watched as the colored bars shifted in various designs. Between the calming colors and gentle sounds of the ocean, John finally started to relax.

After a few minutes, he went to the flight deck's edge. He looked out, heard the far quieter and gentle fluctuations in the Gulf of Mexico below.

He sat down and gazed at the water and lights from a far off city with a similar look on his face as he wore gazing at Earth from Thunderbird Five. He was not feeling vertigo this time and just enjoyed the calming sounds of waves and the gentle breeze.

"Oh yes, this is far more pleasant." John said softly to himself.

He was glad to join his brothers on the trip but he couldn't help but think about the events of the day.

John knew he lied to his brothers - even he could tell he was on the verge of collapse. That near miss combined with the beds didn't help.

If he was honest with himself, the fainting spell a couple of days prior scared him on taking better care of his health on Five.

Oh sure he remembered feeling the symptoms as he disembarked the elevator, but thought he could fight them off. He was successful until he arrived at the lounge, when gravity, the rougher descent, exhaustion and too much calorie controlled astronaut food hit him all at once.

The rest was a bit difficult to recall without shuddering - the dread he felt knowing he was going to faint, falling, a vague touch and blurred shouts of concern as the world turned dark.

An unpleasant sensation of being carried in someone's arms, Virgil's he remembered, when he briefly woke...

Being more conscious as he felt several sharp pinches of one of many injections Brains gave John to help him recover.

One he remembered was a sedative - leading to oblivion again for who knew how long.

It wasn't until he fully came to again in the infirmary, IV in arm and famished did he realize the spell lead to several hours of medicine and forced rest.

How bad the actual spell had been he wasn't sure of, but judging by his brothers' relieved reactions, the hours waiting… it was one of the more serious ones.

None of his brothers however minced words about his collapse on Tracy Island, mixed in with the smother hen behavior.

John wondered if the incident made him feel claustrophobic, especially the nightmares Gordon had told him of being the one who caught John as he lost consciousness.

The bunks did look like hospital stasis pods in the dark, so it was too easy to imagine them himself.

Shuddering, John now thought he'd just spend the nights out on deck - or at least tonight. If not allowed, he’d sleep on the couch in the living area.

He heard a shuffle of footsteps, and turned around. "Oh, hey Jacob," he said with an awkward smile. "I’m enjoying fire watch walk?"

"Hi John... I think you mean ‘enjoying the view at night here’?" said the ship leader, who actually was on a fire watch walk.

John nodded, blushing slightly, and the Jacob smiled. Had John been one of the young boys from the from one of the troops of Boy Scouts on board, the ship leader would have chased him down below decks.

But the leader knew who John was and left him alone after the acknowledgement. He watched John for a moment, just to be sure the slight pallor wasn't seasickness - or worse - after the day’s events.

Seeing John was OK, Jacob finished his deck walk and went back down below.

The astronaut however sat watching the waves for a long time, enjoying the setting almost as much as Gordon would. His aquanaut brother had no trouble sleeping anywhere, much like Alan.

Thinking about his youngest brothers, John leaned back to put his head down with his interlaced fingers as a pillow on the deck. Now he was gazing up at the stars, thinking about his virtual colleague in Five watching them and the day.

••••••

At the stroke of 2 a.m., just when John was dozing off, he heard an engine noise. He sat up to see what motor on board had started running, but it wasn't coming from behind him or on the ship. It was coming from out over the sea.

"What on earth?" he thought, and realized the plane could be in trouble. John scanned the horizon and sure enough, he saw a pair of dots on the over the ocean, closer to the city limits, rapidly getting larger.

Soon it was large enough to see that it was a small plane, an antique with bright yellow wings.

John recognized it as a plane used in the past for crop dusting.

It passed low, right over the Lexington and began spewing fog from its underside as it got close. John barely had time to turn over so he wasn't hit in the face by the mist.

The moist fog had no odor and John couldn't identify it as anything besides wet. Still, as the plane turned, he held his breath and ran for the doorway to escape below, but the plane was already overhead. So, he leaped forward instead, landing on his stomach as the plane sprayed the deck - and him - again.

"Oh good grief," John cried out loud as he got up to run again. He ran through the hatch leading to the escalator and started down the frozen stairs. "That was just rude," he groaned as he ran his fingers through his damp hair.

He sighed, realizing he’d need to shower off the substance and briskly walked back to where his family was staying.

It took great control on his part to enter the sleeping quarters once again to get fresh clothing to prevent any recontamination of whatever he was sprayed with.

On his way, partially to distract himself from where he was, he activated his wrist comm, and said, "EOS, come in."

He jogged a short way through the rec room, kitchen and to the stairs. After descending, he took a deep breath then entered the compartment to grab his toiletries and clothes.

His brothers continued to sleep soundly and he made it back into the passageway without waking them.

Still hearing no answer from the AI, he called again.

“EOS!" He hissed, trying to keep his voice down to not risk disturbing the other campers in their nearby berth.

"Yes, John," the AI answered after a crackle on the line.

"Where were you?" he said, worried. He knew while the reception on the ship was minimal, TB5's systems were stronger and could penetrate the metal.

"I was running quick diagnostics on the comm system. I have rerouted systems around a burnt-out module. You will have to replace it when you get back up here,” she responded, then chirped happily. “Are you on your way?"

In spite of all that occurred, John chortled. "I wish, but no - I told you my trip was for two nights."

The virtual circle of lots spun in an electronic laugh. "You told me you would spend three days on earth before, and you did not last half that time," EOS said chuckling.

"Right EOS - But I need your help now,” said the astronaut, getting back to the subject. “Can you scan the Lexington's flight deck for chemicals?"

"Chemicals? Why John? The USS Lexington has not been in operation as a military aircraft since 1992."

"An antique crop duster, of all things, just sprayed me and the deck down with something." John undressed at a shower stall and placed his 'watch' on a high soap shelf inside so he could continue his conversation with EOS.

"Of course John, scanning now," she said, then a few moments later, chirped. "What an odd occurrence - do you think it's a show for the Overnight Program?"

"I don't think it's for show. I mean, having the Thunderbirds being aboard presenting demos is a pretty big thing for the Lexington,” said John as he scrubbed his face.

The AI whirled at the thought. "Could it be for a Corpus Christi Hooks baseball game?" She then inquired, who had grown to actually enjoy the sport's probabilities.

She didn't understand why a team would think a fish hook was a 'lucky' however. This was especially true when Gordon and Alan had recently impaled one in their fingers, requiring tetanus boosters for both.

Same with a seagull - especially if Virgil's comments about them "Liking Two's windows too much" were any indication.

John was washing his hair and shook his head slightly.

"They're the Blue Ghosts now EOS, but no - they haven't started their season,” said John, frowning. “Even then I doubt it’d be a crop duster show.”

"Maybe the ship needed spraying,” EOS asked.

"No - A crop duster was used to spray chemicals on crops,” he explained. “Insecticides and defoliants for cotton were common before they were all banned."

"I see, now I know why it was spraying an aircraft carrier was odd... you are on the Gulf of Mexico, not land," EOS said. "Scanning complete, John. I detected no dangerous chemicals in the moisture on deck."

John smiled as he added more shampoo to his hair. "Well, I guess that's a relief, EOS. Thank you."

"You're welcome, John.”

John sighed as he finished rinsing off. He turned off the water and got dressed.

"I guess I'll go back to our berthing compartment and try again to relax enough to fall asleep,” he said quietly.

EOS' array lit up with worry. “Virgil reported you nearly had a syncopal episode earlier,” she said. “Why can't you sleep, John?"

He ignored Virgil’s report and continued. "It's a little closed in, no windows and too cold for my comfort," John admitted, thinking about his earlier hypothesis.

"I see - if it continues you can always come back to Thunderbird Five early. I can ensure the windows stay open.”

"Thank you, but no. I want to stay at least for Scott's party - there will be cake," John said, not adding he didn't want to disappoint his oldest brother by leaving - nor miss out on real food that was not cooked by their grandmother. “See you in two days.”

"FAB, John," the AI said as she signed off.

John gathered his toiletries and went back to their berthing compartment. Using a flashlight and the dim light in the berth he looked at his bed from the doorway. He took a breath and stepped inside.

Almost as soon as he closed the hatch behind him and turned around, John felt a wave of heat rise around his chest up to his neck and across his face. It felt as the room felt as though it was shrinking with stasis pods coming to collect him…

"Oh no-no-no," he whispered and exited as quickly as he could, bumping a bed shelf on the way.

That time, his comments and the soft clang of the shelf woke Virgil up, who watched John scramble up the ladder, then yelp as his foot slipped briefly on one of the steps.

"Oh brother," yawning, the medic pulled on his jeans before following John.

After a quick inquiry about which direction his brother went by a fire patrol, Virgil saw then followed John’s path to the flight deck.

His brother had already sat down cross legged in a dry place under the SNJ-5 Texan when Virgil caught up to him.

"Can't sleep?" He said, startling the younger man momentarily.

"Oh, hi Virgil," John said after a pause in greeting to collect himself. He sighed, resting his elbows on his knees. “No, I can’t sleep.”

"Probably a little too closed-in, even for you," said Virgil, though he wondered how the astronaut, who lived in essentially an oxygenated tin can in space, could have this issue. *But he can see space - so Maybe no windows,* he mused as John cleared his throat.

"FAB, er, no - um - I was just too hot - er - cold... both," John almost confirmed, and continued, "But it isn't just that."

"Oh?" said Virgil, realizing there was more to his brother's odd behavior than possible claustrophobia. The astronaut had tried to hide it from his younger brother, but Virgil knew the symptoms.

"Something weird happened up here around two a.m."

"What?" Virgil asked, his eyebrow raised.

"I was lying on the deck, more aft," John pointed,. "About a half hour ago, an old-fashioned crop duster flew over and sprayed the deck, and me with something. I took a shower right away - sorry if I woke you."

"I wondered if it had rained up here," said Virgil, looking around the flight deck. "Weird that it was flying at night - but maybe it malfunctioned."

"Yeah, well it malfunctioned and then it turned back and malfunctioned again," said John sarcastically.

“Ok, so maybe not that,” Virgil pursed his lips, thinking. "But sprayed a mist though? If it was a crop duster, it could've been anything. You sure you're OK?"

John nodded. “Yeah. The mist had no odor and I had EOS do a scan,” he said, running a hand through his wind tousled damp hair. “She couldn't find any harmful chemicals in the residue."

The older man made a “hmmm” sound as he looked at his slightly unnerved brother. "Still, maybe I should collect a sample for Brains to take a look at - only as a precaution,” Virgil said and started walking, looking around the deck. John got up and followed.

After he caught up with Virgil he pointed ahead at a particularly wet area the elder was eyeing. "That’s where the plane crossed the deck the first time over those fighter jets - And I was over there."

Virgil did a double take. "The plane went over *you* more than once?" He asked to verify.

The younger man nodded. "Twice before I could get below deck. I don't know if it made anymore passes."

The warm breeze was quickly drying the wet surfaces, but Virgil found a puddle collected in a tire well.

Gathering a vial from a small kit Virgil always brought, he put on gloves and collected a decent amount of the water.

“There - sample collected," said Virgil, capping it.

He then looked around, thinking of another possibility for the plane.

“I ought to ask Gordon if there's any water treatments for the ocean that would require a plane to disperse it,” he said “Even then, I doubt that a crop duster would have been out in the middle of the night spreading any form of treatments, let alone water."

"Unless they have to because of the tourism,” said John. “I just hope it doesn’t happen again…”

He then rubbed his eyes as though irritated, concerning his older brother. "I should take you to see a doctor. Just because EOS said it was OK, we need to be sure,” Virgil stated as his younger brother looked at his watch.

"No, I feel fine. It's about 3 in the morning now, I’m tired and I need to get some sleep. Plus, I dont want to miss in on some of Scott's birthday cake." said John, "Besides, EOS found no insecticide, defoliant or evidence of any other harmful chemicals. Plus, I’ll sleep on the couch like I did earlier.”

Virgil pursed his lips, debating arguing, but then conceded.

"Alright John, I’ll humor you. That said, you let me know if you feel bad at all - *any* sign or symptom that might mean you aren't feeling well," said Virgil. "I don't want you keeling over... leave that for the boats."

"Yes Doctor," John said sarcastically.

Virgil gave his brothers shoulder a squeeze and headed to the bunks to send the sample to Brains.

Still, after Virgil left to go below and tell the others what happened, John stayed on deck for a further 15 minutes l, watching the skies and the horizon in particular.

[landboundstar-writing]

Mr. Unlucky

A little bit of fluffy October writing - reposted from main blog and AO3. Enjoy a little Nightmare Before Christmas fic. If you like, please consider tipping. And reblog, please.

To a guy from Kentucky, I am Mr. Unlucky, and I'm known throughout England and France. Jack Skellington - Jack's Lament - The Nightmare Before Christmas

Jake Smiley hadn't planned to go hunting on Halloween night, but moonshine and money had a way of filling in Jake's schedule for him. So, when the moon rose on Halloween, he was walking down the side of one of the hills that looked out over Lexington with a rifle on his back to keep an eye on his uncle's fields. He'd had enough moonshine and whiskey that his steps staggered a bit, but he managed not to trip over vines or roots, keeping his footing enough to not tumble down the hill, rifle and all. Messing with farms was a big problem in their part of Kentucky. Horse farms especially were protective in case anybody wanted to mess with their thoroughbreds. His uncle's vegetable farm still had its own problems though. Most of the year, it was people taking shortcuts through the fields and trampling the growing crops. But in October, he had a devil of a time  just keeping the local children from sneaking out into his pumpkin patch at night. There were those that wanted to steal pumpkins for jack o’lanterns or pies, some who decided to sneak across the field for fun, and, the worst of all, those who just came into the field to smash pumpkins and tear up the plants. It had been a rough month this year, and Jake understood why his uncle was worried about leaving the pumpkins unguarded while he drove to go pick his aunt up from a trip to help take care of her mother.

Picking his spot like he would for a hunting trip, Jake sat down, and took a pull on the flask that still had a touch of whiskey in it. It wasn’t as cold as it got some years, and Jake had just started to let his mind wander a little when the familiar sound of rustling pumpkin leaves started. Carefully, Jake listened for the normal giggles and taunts that he expected to hear. But instead, he just heard rustling leaves coming from the field. And it was plain as day that there was someone else in the pumpkin patch with him. Slowly, they were pulling themselves up from the ground. 

Jake was steadying himself as the rustling grew louder. “You better stop right there, Mr. Unlucky” Jake called out, with his hand resting on the butt of his gun, hoping to scare the intruders off before it got to the point of having to raise a gun. He didn’t want things to get that out of hand if he could help it. But the rustling kept getting louder and louder. Taking a breath, he started to raise the rifle before he started to see what was actually rising up.

This was no child or poacher. Instead, a bony hand lay on a leaf, and a man in a suit, clean and crisp as if he was getting ready to head to church and not sitting in the middle of a farm field at night, started to rise up. His head was down, like a sleepwalker or a doll until he was all the way upright, and then he raised his head up and Jake Smiley looked in horror at a smiling skull.

Then, Jake Smiley did what he had never done since he had first gone hunting as a boy. He dropped his rifle. It hit the ground and went off with a startling bang as he ran off down the hill towards town, flagging down a car as he went. There are people around that part of Kentucky who claim you could hear him screaming the entire time, although Jake would deny it.

Of course, there is another person you could ask about this story, if you can find the right door in the woods one day.

[cricketpress]

New poster for Lexington Parks & Rec celebrating...

National Parks & Rec Month

July is National Parks & Recreation Month. The month is one of the busiest times of the year for Lexington Parks & Recreation, with summer camps in full swing and numerous events and programs each week. For the third year, each Friday of the month a different local business will celebrate and feature a collaborative release, with a portion of proceeds going toward planting trees in local parks.

Poster Details: 3 color screenprint 12" x 18" Edition of 50

[max--phillips]

Chicken and Ramps

TFW the blurb u just wrote turned into 949 words. Anyway, thought process behind this was “damn. I wanna forage back near Lexington KY where I was in October, but like, now with all the spring stuff… lol what if Whiskey retired from Statesman and lived on a very rural plot of land in KY, and reader spotted some stuff on his land and got caught” so here . Have this

Pairing: vaguely implied future retired!Whiskey x gn!reader

Warnings: nothing glaring, mild cursing, Jack has a shotgun but it’s never pointed at anyone, since he’s retired I decided to give him graying facial hair so y’know

Words: 949

You were driving through some back roads carefully, though not so slowly to cause suspicion, hunting for something. Fairly easy to spot if you knew what you were looking for; it was bright orange most of the time after all. You’d been trying to keep track of what was and wasn’t occupied property so you didn’t accidentally trespass, plus you intended to stay pretty close to the road, and that would at least give you plausible deniability if a resident came out and complained.

Finally, after some time of driving and a handful of stops for other things you spotted, you came upon your target: a fallen log, just a few steps in from the road, adorned with a plethora of bright orange shelf mushrooms. Chicken of the woods.

You cheered, slamming on your brakes and throwing your car in park, turning the hazards on just in case. You grabbed one of your foraging bags and hopped out of your car, looking around you carefully to ensure you were both alone, and no cars were coming. Met with an empty road and empty woods, you crossed, and began harvesting a few mushrooms. You wouldn’t take all of it, of course, a responsible forager only takes what they need, leaving some for other foragers and the wildlife that also needed to eat.

Once you were set, you stood upright and fastened your bag closed. As you did, a touch of bright green caught your eye in the leaf litter several yards from where you were standing.

Ramps?! This late in the season?!

You weighed your options. Get further from your getaway vehicle and risk actual trespassing, or cut your losses and get back in your car. But ramps… You thought for another moment, took a deep breath, and stepped around the fallen log, towards the ramps. You bent down, and started picking some leaves. This was a pretty big patch, and you would only take a leaf or two from each plant, so you were getting plenty.

Then you heard someone clear their throat, and you about jumped out of your skin.

“Fuck!” You scrambled upright, looking over in their direction, taking a couple steps back. A tall, handsome gentleman with a salt-and-pepper mustache and scruff looked back at you with a slightly amused expression. He wore a cowboy hat, a denim jacket, different colored denim jeans, and cowboy boots. He also had a shotgun, thankfully resting on his shoulder and not pointed at you.

“Y’know, you really shouldn’t be taking things from someone else’s property,” he said. His accent was far too smooth to be from around here, but there was an Appalachian twist that made you think he’d lived here for a good while.

“I-I didn’t—I’m so sorry, I thought this lot wasn’t occupied,” you said, holding your hands up, still gripping your foraging bag and ramps. Unfortunately this was not the first, nor would it likely be the last, time you’d been threatened with a gun. “This is all I’ve taken, there’s still more, but I’ll give them back if you want.”

He looked at you for a second, then to your hand with the ramps. “Those ramps?”

“Uh, yeah, I noticed them while I was picking some chicken,” you answered. “It was a lucky find so late in the season, I couldn’t pass ‘em up.” You gestured to the patch next to you.

“Huh,” he said. “Never noticed those back here for some reason. Good to know.” He sauntered over, squatting down and picking a couple himself before standing up again. “What’s your name?”

You gave it to him. “Again, I did not intend to trespass, if you want this back—“

“Nah, keep it,” he said. “More’n enough for both of us. My name’s Jack.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jack, I’m sorry if I scared you or anything,” you said. “You also have a pretty good chicken of the woods crop by the road.”

“I was actually on my way out here to check that log, taken some from it before,” he said. “That’s how I found you.”

“Oh, well, I’ll, uh, let you do that and get out of your hair,” you said, gesturing that direction.

“Now hang on a minute, you got a phone on you?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course, why?”

“Go on and take it out, lemme make a new contact for ya,” he answered.

So you did. You opened your phone, went to your contacts, and started a new one. He put in his name and number, and an address. One road over, must be his home.

“Now get your car off the side of the road there and park it in my driveway, and I’ll show you some other stuff I got growing around here.” He got a little closer to you, his voice low like he was afraid someone would overhear even though you were alone. “I may or may not know a very good spot for morels.”

You gasp. “Jeez, Jack, isn’t that a little fast? We just met!” you teased.

Jack laughed, and you grinned. “Not often I see anyone foraging out here. Usually just hunters who think they can set up wherever they want without consequences. Plus you look like you can keep a secret.” He then winked at you, and you felt your whole body heat up a degree.

“Trust me, I know better than to divulge an armed man’s morel spot,” you told him, raising your right hand as if to swear, even though you were still holding those ramps.

“Very good. Alright, sugar, move your car, we’ll get this show on the road.” He winked again, then turned and started walking.

[rosemaryreaper]

WIP Whenever (2)

And here’s the second snip for @dumpsterhipster’s WIP not-Wednesday! I’ve been having too much fun not to share the final part of this scene. Enjoy more of Ros and Nick being Ros and Nick.

* * * *

When he reached into his pocket, she warned, “Try anything and Winnie will trample you. She can outrun a deathclaw.” With a functioning leg. Seventy percent of the time.

Winnie stomped her hoof in emphasis, nothing if not committed to the bit. The synth chuckled. “I believe her.” Addressing the horse, he said, “Winnie, was it? It’s a pleasure.”

Winnie bobbed her head, less committed to the bit. Ros was ready to hit her head against a wall. She settled for retrieving two boxes of bullets from her saddlebag instead.

“Gorgeous robot. Your handiwork?”

She held up the boxes. “I’m trading ammo, not secrets.”

“Fair enough.”

The synth produced two stimpaks in his fleshless hand. The exchange was swift and simultaneous. Her fingertips brushed cool metal. Soft plastic skimmed her palm.

She inspected the new syringes in her possession. The seals were unbroken. No cracks or dents. No leaking liquid. And the expiration dates were…unexpired?

She frowned at him, not that he could see it. “What’s a syn—a you…? You. I didn’t think you needed…” She cleared her throat. Broadened her stance. “Retry. You a chem dealer on the side, or what?”

He gave her a wry smile. “Not that far off. Only I don’t get paid for it.” He pointed at her Mag. “I know an idiot who has the unfortunate habit of getting shot every week or so. She carries the same kind of gun. Takes a special kind of person to bring a revolver to a shootout.”

“Sounds like you would know. S&W?”

“Colt. It has more personality.”

“You can afford to be a hypocrite if you don’t bleed, I guess.”

“Heh. Try telling that to my secretary.”

She had…no good response to this. Who in their right mind would have a good response to any of this?

She waited for him to ask about Winnie again. He didn’t. She had been waiting for him to snatch her, or shoot her, or try to steal her horse, but he hadn’t done any of that either. He hadn’t approached her just to make a bad deal, that much was obvious, but maybe his motives weren’t for a human to understand.

The deal was done. They continued to stand there. She toggled her V.A.T.S. one last time. No change. She glanced back at the factory. No movement.

“Quiet around here,” she said awkwardly. “Who cleared out the Corvega plant?”

“Noticed that, did ya? The Minutemen did a while back. They give it a cleaning every month or so, keep the pests out, but it’s empty. Won’t find much in the way of salvage there.”

Ros said, “What the fuck.”

“The place is a pain to maintain,” he continued, as if it was no big deal the local militia had raided an entire fortress. “The General wants to repurpose it for something. Another habit of hers. I’ve lost count of the number of perps I’ve chased to the top of that thing while it’s been sitting on the to-do list. Wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve left behind a screw on every scaffolding.”

She said, “This has been a very weird day.”

He chuckled again. “This is no Capital Wasteland, that’s for sure.” His eyes met hers through her black visor. Yellow eyes, like an animal’s. “Or Appalachia.”

Instinctively, she grabbed Winnie’s halter. He couldn’t see her face. She knew that, but— Time to go. “Well, it’s been fun, but I got a lotta miles to go, so…”

“There’s a Red Rocket in Lexington.”

“What?”

“There’s a Red Rocket to the north of the factory, if you’re looking to fix her foot.”

A chill crawled down the back of her neck. She had to be sure she could hold her voice steady before she replied. “I’ll wait till the next one.”

“Suit yourself.”

He stepped off the road, allowing her plenty of room to pass. She clicked her tongue, urging Winnie to adopt the fastest pace they could manage without giving off the impression of running. The synth didn’t move to stop her.

She made it twenty paces before that gravelly voice called after her: “I didn’t catch your name, Rider.”

“Good!” she shouted over her shoulder. She could’ve sworn she heard him laughing behind her.

She could feel his eyes follow her retreat for the next twenty paces. And the next. But when she glanced over her shoulder again, his back was to her, already some distance away, moving in the opposite direction.

[fourohfourrealitynotfound]

Double Agent

For @flashfictionfridayofficial #FFF230 - Fool Me Once

549 words

"I've got her! Stay after the others," I said, planting my hand on the corner of the building and swinging into the alley after the girl.  

She was still on fire, the blaze on her shoulders growing taller than her head. She was trying to reach a fire escape ladder on the building to my left, but she was just a hair too short. The flames on her fingertips licked the bottom rung every time she jumped up. 

I pressed a finger to my ear, muting and silencing my comm. "Hey," I said, softening my voice as best I could around my panting breaths. 

The girl started and whipped around. When she recognized my uniform she tried to back away, but she just ended up with her shoulders pressed to the bricks behind her. 

"I'm not going to hurt you." I started to raise my hands up beside my head, but thought better of that gesture when she flinched. Instead I clasped them behind my back and knelt. The pavement bit my knees at their sudden meeting, but I ignored the spike of pain. "I just want to help." 

Slowly, the girl's fire died down, leaving a low burn at her hands. I could see her face finally: she was younger than I'd thought, only ten or eleven. Her eyes were wide, and the tip of her long, dark braid smoldered. 

"You should head towards Lexington Street," I said. "There's people there who can help you. Do you know where that is?"  

The girl chewed at her lip and shook her head. 

I exhaled. "Okay . . . when you get to the top of that building, find the Spire. Keep it on your right. The buildings will start to look older and worse. That's where you want to be. Stop and ask for directions to the old Cherry Lane Theatre. You got that?" 

She nodded.  

"I'm going to lower the ladder now, okay?" When she nodded again, I latched my eyes onto the fire escape and pulled down the ladder, keeping my hands behind my back. 

I watched as she scrambled up. Just as her sneaker disappeared over the lip of the roof, a voice behind me said, "What do you think you're doing?" 

My heart hopscotched its way into my throat. I whirled around to find blue eyes freezing me in place. "Finn!" I gasped. "I—she was just a kid! I don't think she meant to--" 

"Chill," he said. "I agree with you; that was a good call." He nudged my shoulder with his fist. "Since when have you been so nice?" 

I shrugged. "She didn't seem like she meant to be using her power. I think she was just scared."  

I didn't say that this was my first time letting someone go, but I didn't admit to my sins, either. If Finn didn't see through my lack of admission, then could it really be called lying? 

A grin spread across Finn's face, and he shook his head. "There's hope for you yet. Just invite me the next time you decide to be rebellious. I'll keep lookout."  

"Uh-huh," I said, but I was already calculating ways to keep my next rescue mission away from his sharp eyes.  

"C'mon, we've gotta tell the boss man how your target 'got away.'" 

[aggravateddurian]

OC Associations - Val (Prime)

I was tagged by @katsigian and @byberbunk2069, a few days ago. As I was going through some stuff, I've left it for a bit, but I've finally come around to it.

Animal: Lynx, Grizzly Bear

Colours: Pink, Blue, Gold

Month: August (her birth month)

Plants: Pink roses, Birds of Paradise (crane flower)

Numbers: 3 (number of ill-fated relationships before she met Melanie), 8 (it's considered a lucky number for Filipinos)

Songs:

You Don't Know What Love Is - Chet Baker

Out of My League - Fitz and the Tantrums

Connection - Elastica

???

(There are more songs, but I can't remember them all)

Smells: Campfires, roses, mango

Time of Day: 5PM to midnight (it's when Val gets her best work done)

Food: Homemade Spring Rolls, Filipino Sweet Spaghetti (made with banana ketchup sauce), Japantown market noodles

Drinks: NiCola, Vodka, Rum, tea

Elements: Val is very much fire-coded

Seasonings: Chili, whatever is in adobo

Weapons: Quickhacks, monowire, Militech combat knife, suppressed Liberty, M-10AF Lexington

Places: Japantown Cherry Blossom Market, Lizzie's Bar, Rancho Coronado Housing Estate, Overpass Pillar (Arroyo)

Sky: Night, slightly cloudy

Weather: Clear (it stings when it rains)

Candy: M&Ms (or whatever the closest Cyberpunk equivalent is), dark chocolate

Hobbies: Hacking, modding cars (especially her Quadra), racing

Artstyle: Pablo Picasso (Val is a big fan of cubism)

Fear: Something happening to Mel. Losing her family.

Clothing Item: Blue Mirror Dual-Shield Crystaljock Bomber, or Ocean Armor Aramid-Weave Edgerunner. Blue button-up shirt. Most of her outfits revolve around these items.

Three Emojis: 🧠🚗🔪

Starsign: Virgo ♍

I would like to nominate: @luvwich @jornaquin and @theviridianbunny

[landboundstar]

Mr. Unlucky

I think I might have previously posted, but I felt this deserved an October reshare.

Mr. Unlucky

To a guy from Kentucky, I am Mr. Unlucky, and I'm known throughout England and France. - Jack, Nightmare Before Christmas

Jake Smiley hadn't planned to go hunting on Halloween night, but moonshine and money had a way of filling in Jake's schedule for him. So, when the moon rose on Halloween, he was walking down the side of one of the hills that looked out over Lexington with a rifle on his back to keep an eye on his uncle's fields. He'd had enough moonshine and whiskey that his steps staggered a bit, but he managed not to trip over vines or roots, keeping his footing enough to not tumble down the hill, rifle and all. Messing with farms was a big problem in their part of Kentucky. Horse farms especially were protective in case anybody wanted to mess with their thoroughbreds. His uncle's vegetable farm still had its own problems though. Most of the year, it was people taking shortcuts through the fields and trampling the growing crops. But in October, he had a devil of a time  just keeping the local children from sneaking out into his pumpkin patch at night. There were those that wanted to steal pumpkins for jack o’lanterns or pies, some who decided to sneak across the field for fun, and, the worst of all, those who just came into the field to smash pumpkins and tear up the plants. It had been a rough month this year, and Jake understood why his uncle was worried about leaving the pumpkins unguarded while he drove to go pick his aunt up from a trip to help take care of her mother.

Picking his spot like he would for a hunting trip, Jake sat down, and took a pull on the flask that still had a touch of whiskey in it. It wasn’t as cold as it got some years, and Jake had just started to let his mind wander a little when the familiar sound of rustling pumpkin leaves started. Carefully, Jake listened for the normal giggles and taunts that he expected to hear. But instead, he just heard rustling leaves coming from the field. And it was plain as day that there was someone else in the pumpkin patch with him. Slowly, they were pulling themselves up from the ground. 

Jake was steadying himself as the rustling grew louder. “You better stop right there, Mr. Unlucky” Jake called out, with his hand resting on the butt of his gun, hoping to scare the intruders off before it got to the point of having to raise a gun. He didn’t want things to get that out of hand if he could help it. But the rustling kept getting louder and louder. Taking a breath, he started to raise the rifle before he started to see what was actually rising up.

This was no child or poacher. Instead, a bony hand lay on a leaf, and a man in a suit, clean and crisp as if he was getting ready to head to church and not sitting in the middle of a farm field at night, started to rise up. His head was down, like a sleepwalker or a doll until he was all the way upright, and then he raised his head up and Jake Smiley looked in horror at a smiling skull.

Then, Jake Smiley did what he had never done since he had first gone hunting as a boy. He dropped his rifle. It hit the ground and went off with a startling bang as he ran off down the hill towards town, flagging down a car as he went. There are people around that part of Kentucky who claim you could hear him screaming the entire time, although Jake would deny it.

Of course, there is another person you could ask about this story, if you can find the right door in the woods one day.