#nut and bolt company

[humanjeff]

a tiny problem

this probably hasn't made the news in other countries - huge mining company Rio Tinto managed to lose this little capsule (8 x 6 mm) somewhere in West Australia:

it's caesium-137, the stuff that has made Chernobyl uninhabitable, and you don't want to be standing within 5-10 meters of it, because it's blasting out beta and gamma rays. you REALLY don't want to pick it up, because it'll give you radiation burns.

what's nuts is it seems to have somehow escaped from its "secure" container and fallen out of a bolt hole while being transported, and then nobody noticed for TWO WEEKS.

anyway there are fire fighters on their sixth day of scouring 1,400 km (!) of desert road right now, but it's so small that it may never be found (I think the detection radius with the equipment they're using is maybe 20m). it's so small that it could have stuck in a car's tire treads, or been picked up by an unfortunate bird or other wildlife. it has a half-life of 30 years, which means it'll be dangerously radioactive for centuries.

it's just an incredible fuckup on so many levels.

[sepia-stained-sunset]

Sometimes he needs to outbid an alias of Tim's for the company, because Tim had the exact same plan.

headcanon that bruce gets in the habit of occasionally buying random ass small companies with zero pattern or connection so that when he needs to buy a company for batman reasons it doesn’t stand out and this has lead to him owning some real weird businesses

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Kickstarting a book to end enshittification, because Amazon will not carry it

My next book is The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation: it’s a Big Tech disassembly manual that explains how to disenshittify the web and bring back the old good internet. The hardcover comes from Verso on Sept 5, but the audiobook comes from me — because Amazon refuses to sell my audio:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/the-internet-con-how-to-seize-the-means-of-computation

Amazon owns Audible, the monopoly audiobook platform that controls >90% of the audio market. They require mandatory DRM for every book sold, locking those books forever to Amazon’s monopoly platform. If you break up with Amazon, you have to throw away your entire audiobook library.

That’s a hell of a lot of leverage to hand to any company, let alone a rapacious monopoly that ran a program targeting small publishers called “Project Gazelle,” where execs were ordered to attack indie publishers “the way a cheetah would pursue a sickly gazelle”:

https://www.businessinsider.com/sadistic-amazon-treated-book-sellers-the-way-a-cheetah-would-pursue-a-sickly-gazelle-2013-10

[Image ID: Journalist and novelist Doctorow (Red Team Blues) details a plan for how to break up Big Tech in this impassioned and perceptive manifesto….Doctorow’s sense of urgency is contagious -Publishers Weekly]

I won’t sell my work with DRM, because DRM is key to the enshittification of the internet. Enshittification is why the old, good internet died and became “five giant websites filled with screenshots of the other four” (h/t Tom Eastman). When a tech company can lock in its users and suppliers, it can drain value from both sides, using DRM and other lock-in gimmicks to keep their business even as they grow ever more miserable on the platform.

Here is how platforms die: first, they are good to their users; then they abuse their users to make things better for their business customers; finally, they abuse those business customers to claw back all the value for themselves. Then, they die:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

[Image ID: A brilliant barn burner of a book. Cory is one of the sharpest tech critics, and he shows with fierce clarity how our computational future could be otherwise -Kate Crawford, author of The Atlas of AI”]

The Internet Con isn’t just an analysis of where enshittification comes from: it’s a detailed, shovel-ready policy prescription for halting enshittification, throwing it into reverse and bringing back the old, good internet.

How do we do that? With interoperability: the ability to plug new technology into those crapulent, decaying platform. Interop lets you choose which parts of the service you want and block the parts you don’t (think of how an adblocker lets you take the take-it-or-leave “offer” from a website and reply with “How about nah?”):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah

But interop isn’t just about making platforms less terrible — it’s an explosive charge that demolishes walled gardens. With interop, you can leave a social media service, but keep talking to the people who stay. With interop, you can leave your mobile platform, but bring your apps and media with you to a rival’s service. With interop, you can break up with Amazon, and still keep your audiobooks.

So, if interop is so great, why isn’t it everywhere?

Well, it used to be. Interop is how Microsoft became the dominant operating system:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

[Image ID: Nobody gets the internet-both the nuts and bolts that make it hum and the laws that shaped it into the mess it is-quite like Cory, and no one’s better qualified to deliver us a user manual for fixing it. That’s The Internet Con: a rousing, imaginative, and accessible treatise for correcting our curdled online world. If you care about the internet, get ready to dedicate yourself to making interoperability a reality. -Brian Merchant, author of Blood in the Machine]

It’s how Apple saved itself from Microsoft’s vicious campaign to destroy it:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay

Every tech giant used interop to grow, and then every tech giant promptly turned around and attacked interoperators. Every pirate wants to be an admiral. When Big Tech did it, that was progress; when you do it back to Big Tech, that’s piracy. The tech giants used their monopoly power to make interop without permission illegal, creating a kind of “felony contempt of business model” (h/t Jay Freeman).

The Internet Con describes how this came to pass, but, more importantly, it tells us how to fix it. It lays out how we can combine different kinds of interop requirements (like the EU’s Digital Markets Act and Massachusetts’s Right to Repair law) with protections for reverse-engineering and other guerrilla tactics to create a system that is strong without being brittle, hard to cheat on and easy to enforce.

What’s more, this book explains how to get these policies: what existing legislative, regulatory and judicial powers can be invoked to make them a reality. Because we are living through the Great Enshittification, and crises erupt every ten seconds, and when those crises occur, the “good ideas lying around” can move from the fringes to the center in an eyeblink:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/12/only-a-crisis/#lets-gooooo

[Image ID: Thoughtfully written and patiently presented, The Internet Con explains how the promise of a free and open internet was lost to predatory business practices and the rush to commodify every aspect of our lives. An essential read for anyone that wants to understand how we lost control of our digital spaces and infrastructure to Silicon Valley’s tech giants, and how we can start fighting to get it back. -Tim Maughan, author of INFINITE DETAIL]

After all, we���ve known Big Tech was rotten for years, but we had no idea what to do about it. Every time a Big Tech colossus did something ghastly to millions or billions of people, we tried to fix the tech company. There’s no fixing the tech companies. They need to burn. The way to make users safe from Big Tech predators isn’t to make those predators behave better — it’s to evacuate those users:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/18/urban-wildlife-interface/#combustible-walled-gardens

I’ve been campaigning for human rights in the digital world for more than 20 years; I’ve been EFF’s European Director, representing the public interest at the EU, the UN, Westminster, Ottawa and DC. This is the subject I’ve devoted my life to, and I live my principles. I won’t let my books be sold with DRM, which means that Audible won’t carry my audiobooks. My agent tells me that this decision has cost me enough money to pay off my mortgage and put my kid through college. That’s a price I’m willing to pay if it means that my books aren’t enshittification bait.

But not selling on Audible has another cost, one that’s more important to me: a lot of readers prefer audiobooks and 9 out of 10 of those readers start and end their searches on Audible. When they don’t find an author there, they assume no audiobook exists, period. It got so bad I put up an audiobook on Amazon — me, reading an essay, explaining how Audible rips off writers and readers. It’s called “Why None of My Audiobooks Are For Sale on Audible”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

[Image ID: Doctorow has been thinking longer and smarter than anyone else I know about how we create and exchange value in a digital age. -Douglas Rushkoff, author of Present Shock]

To get my audiobooks into readers’ ears, I pre-sell them on Kickstarter. This has been wildly successful, both financially and as a means of getting other prominent authors to break up with Amazon and use crowdfunding to fill the gap. Writers like Brandon Sanderson are doing heroic work, smashing Amazon’s monopoly:

https://www.brandonsanderson.com/guest-editorial-cory-doctorow-is-a-bestselling-author-but-audible-wont-carry-his-audiobooks/

And to be frank, I love audiobooks, too. I swim every day as physio for a chronic pain condition, and I listen to 2–3 books/month on my underwater MP3 player, disappearing into an imaginary world as I scull back and forth in my public pool. I’m able to get those audiobooks on my MP3 player thanks to Libro.fm, a DRM-free store that supports indie booksellers all over the world:

https://blog.libro.fm/a-qa-with-mark-pearson-libro-fm-ceo-and-co-founder/

Producing my own audiobooks has been a dream. Working with Skyboat Media, I’ve gotten narrators like @wilwheaton​, Amber Benson, @neil-gaiman​ and Stefan Rudnicki for my work:

https://craphound.com/shop/

[Image ID: “This book is the instruction manual Big Tech doesn’t want you to read. It deconstructs their crummy products, undemocratic business models, rigged legal regimes, and lies. Crack this book and help build something better. -Astra Taylor, author of Democracy May Not Exist, but We’ll Miss It When Its Gone”]

But for this title, I decided that I would read it myself. After all, I’ve been podcasting since 2006, reading my own work aloud every week or so, even as I traveled the world and gave thousands of speeches about the subject of this book. I was excited (and a little trepedatious) at the prospect, but how could I pass up a chance to work with director Gabrielle de Cuir, who has directed everyone from Anne Hathaway to LeVar Burton to Eric Idle?

Reader, I fucking nailed it. I went back to those daily recordings fully prepared to hate them, but they were good — even great (especially after my engineer John Taylor Williams mastered them). Listen for yourself!

https://archive.org/details/cory_doctorow_internet_con_chapter_01

I hope you’ll consider backing this Kickstarter. If you’ve ever read my free, open access, CC-licensed blog posts and novels, or listened to my podcasts, or come to one of my talks and wished there was a way to say thank you, this is it. These crowdfunders make my DRM-free publishing program viable, even as audiobooks grow more central to a writer’s income and even as a single company takes over nearly the entire audiobook market.

Backers can choose from the DRM-free audiobook, DRM-free ebook (EPUB and MOBI) and a hardcover — including a signed, personalized option, fulfilled through the great LA indie bookstore Book Soup:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/the-internet-con-how-to-seize-the-means-of-computation

What’s more, these ebooks and audiobooks are unlike any you’ll get anywhere else because they are sold without any terms of service or license agreements. As has been the case since time immemorial, when you buy these books, they’re yours, and you are allowed to do anything with them that copyright law permits — give them away, lend them to friends, or simply read them with any technology you choose.

As with my previous Kickstarters, backers can get their audiobooks delivered with an app (from libro.fm) or as a folder of MP3s. That helps people who struggle with “sideloading,” a process that Apple and Google have made progressively harder, even as they force audiobook and ebook sellers to hand over a 30% app tax on every dollar they make:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/doctorow/red-team-blues-another-audiobook-that-amazon-wont-sell/posts/3788112

Enshittification is rotting every layer of the tech stack: mobile, payments, hosting, social, delivery, playback. Every tech company is pulling the rug out from under us, using the chokepoints they built between audiences and speakers, artists and fans, to pick all of our pockets.

The Internet Con isn’t just a lament for the internet we lost — it’s a plan to get it back. I hope you’ll get a copy and share it with the people you love, even as the tech platforms choke off your communities to pad their quarterly numbers.

Next weekend (Aug 4-6), I'll be in Austin for Armadillocon, a science fiction convention, where I'm the Guest of Honor:

https://armadillocon.org/d45/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/31/seize-the-means-of-computation/#the-internet-con

[Image ID: My forthcoming book 'The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation' in various editions: Verso hardcover, audiobook displayed on a phone, and ebook displayed on an e-ink reader.]

[alteredphoenix]

Been watching raocow play Banjo-Tooie and a bunch of BK/BT speedruns and it's making me yearn for Banjo-Threeie to be an actual thing.

[roll-fast]

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[pastelclovds]

thinking about red riding hood laios with big bad wolf shifter!reader…

cw: forest sex, knotting, male!reader, size difference (reader is 3 ft taller than laios), blood (laios gets scratched a bit sooo), reader and laios are obsessed with each other, cock slut laios, everything’s planned cause laios and reader are FREAKS

your laios looked gorgeous in the outfit you hand picked for him to wear in this… lewdly hot scenario he wanted to act out with you.

you knew how fascinated laios was of you, especially with your abilities to transform into any creature at will. you also knew just how blunt he was when it came to his needs, and you willingly fulfilled every single one of his wishes. no matter how outlandish they were. your laios was a creative, horny nerd.

you were enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence one day when out of the blue he asked you, “have we ever had sex in the woods before?”

that question made you cough out your water as laios looked up at you with curious eyes that quickly turned dark. ravenous scenarios popping up in his head left and right. you knew that smile of innocence was fake as he asked you if you wanted to “try something”. you didn’t refuse, of course.

and that’s how you ended up here.

naked. in your werewolf form. in the middle of the woods. secluded far away from prying eyes. at midnight where the moon was high and creating light bright enough to make the forest visible. but even if it didn’t, your night vision would’ve helped you.

and even if you didn’t have your vision, you could track laios’ scent from miles away. it smells like a mix of nuts and spices. it’s so addicting, you would die happy if it suffocated you.

your cock is already leaking pre at the sight of his ridiculously short frivolous red skirt barely being able to cover his satin panties. the cape attached to his hood sways as he takes cautious steps over leaves and puddles.

he isn’t carrying kensuke or any other weapon in his basket. just snacks, tissues, and containers of water for after the fun. the fact that he trusts you that much that you’ll protect him makes your heart and cock throb.

when laios purposely steps on a branch, its crunch filling the deafening silence of the forest, it was your signal to make yourself known. your paw makes a loud thump as you step foot from your place behind the tree.

laios trembled in both fear and excitement at the sight of your towering form. the sharp claws on your hands scraping against the bark of the tree, your fluffy chest rising and dropping from your heavy breathing, and tail raised in anticipation.

his eyes drift to the hardened cock hanging between your furry thighs, your balls heavy and ready to be emptied, and your dilated pupils say everything else. hungry. savage. predatory.

show time.

laios turns his heel and bolts away from you. you let out a low growl as you lower your body, place your palms on the ground, and dart after your mate like a wolf chasing its prey. with your increased speed and stamina, laios only ran off ten feet before he was tackled. he gasps when his chest hits the ground.

he’s still as a rock when he feels your claws grip onto his cape. he glances up behind at you in false terror. your razor sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight as you grin devilishly at him.

“what’s a pretty thing like you doing in my woods? don’t you know better than to go inside someone’s home unannounced? naughty boy…~” you said mischievously, you suddenly flip laios on his back, making him squeak in surprise. you could clearly see the raging boner tenting his skirt, a tiny wet spot growing from where his twitching cock spilled pre. he quickly closed his legs to block your view, cheeks blooming in red.

“i believe that rude intruders—” you effortlessly push his legs apart and teared his skirt to shreds, laios cried out in embarrassment as now all he had to cover his privates was his satin panties, “should be punished.”

laios eyes tear up as he pleads, “i-i didn’t know this forest belonged to you. please have mercy!” you laugh cruelly as you lean down to lick his salty tears away. his belly twitches from where your claw rests above his waistband before tearing his panties in two as well. now he’s completely vulnerable beneath your gaze, his cock laying uselessly against his stomach.

“you really are adorable, naively believing you’ll go scott free by saying a simple please.” you flip laios on his chest once again, raising his ass in the air with your palms on his waist, as if he weight nothing. laios grows unbelievably harder. he wishes he had superhuman abilities like you. you were so strong and powerful and cool and hot— GODS he wanted you to take him already. he freezes when he feels your throbbing cock against his ass.

he wanted to be used for all he’s worth, filled to the brim with hot cum, he loved how your knots forced his hole to stretch out in order to pop inside, oh he loved you so so much—

laios sobbed when he felt the tip of your cock prod his well lubed hole, one of your hands left his waist to roughly press against his back so that only his ass was up, obediently presenting to you like a bitch in heat. he felt your labored breaths against the back of his neck as you growled out, “you’re mine, pretty thing.”

laios claws at the dirt below him as he felt you slip inside him inch after glorious inch. he yelped when the head of your cock nuzzled right against his prostate. you knew laios was ready to start, so you didn’t bother with waiting to begin.

you started with a quick but rough pace that left laios moaning helplessly at the great pleasure you gave him. pulling out a few inches before slamming into your mates tight hole, balls slapping wetly against laios’ ass as pre drips from his cock and makes a puddle of whiteish liquid on the dirt. without warning, laios cums. his body halting abruptly as his climax washes over his body, his eyes roll back when you don’t cease your thrust. overstimulation prodding at his nerves like the head of your cock hitting his prostate at every thrust.

you pull your head back to listen for anyone nearby, thankfully you don’t. probably because the only thing your senses can focus on is laios. your fingers brushing his hair, your nose overwhelmed with the smell of sex and sweat, laios loud moans and whimpers filling the silence of the forest, your eyes hyper focused on the sight of your pelvis lewdly slapping against his ass. nobody else mattered at that moment but him. your gorgeous laios.

you groan when laios tightened around you, your pace faltering as you felt your belly grow hot and your knot thickening at the base of your cock. laios’ toes curl when he feels your knot catch on the rim of his asshole, a pure euphoric smile overtaking his features as pleasured tears fill his eyes.

“i’m close, i’m gonna fill you up. would’cha like that, pretty thing?” you managed to ask, laios frantically nods his head in a ‘yes’ motion as he grinds against your growing knot. “yes yes, please do it! i-i’m gonna—” white pleasure crashes into him again just as your knot pops past his abused rim, locking you inside him as ropes of warm cum fill him until he felt full and hot. Laios’ legs give up holding his weight as he laid weightlessly on the ground, your palms are the only reason why his ass is in the air. your balls clench for the last time, finally releasing all you had into him before going flaccid.

laios whines when you attempt to pull out, streams of your cum leaking out of him. “nooo, stay inside. you feel so warm, so good— hah-” laios pleads, desperately grinding against the base of your cock, trying to find your knot to plug him up again. you chuckle under your breath, you should’ve known one round wouldn’t be enough to satisfy your mate.

laios whimpers when he feels your cock slowly harden inside his loose hole.

a/n: I’M BAAAAACK ⁉️ hope you enjoyed :)

[asnutbolts]

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[aa356]

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[mbbmz]

Can’t look away from you!

Shinichiro x reader

I swear I have so many drafts for y’all requests but I’m too lazy to finish them T-T (sorry if I made any spelling mistakes, English isn’t my first language!)

Warnings : semi public sex, oral sex (m receiving), porn without plot

He was trying, really, really hard to focus. But it seemed like he had been tightening the same damn bolt for the past ten minutes. Why, oh why did he think it would be a good idea to take his girlfriend to his shop? His girlfriend who has been so clingy and affectionate since early in the morning, so much he couldn’t help but ask her to keep him company.

Oh was he regretting this decision.

You were looking at him with those eyes. Those you had when you wanted something. And he knew exactly what.

But he couldn’t give in now. He was supposed to be working. Beside, anyone could come in at any moment! His friends, his brother, who all chose his shop as their hangout spot, or even any customer!

In the span of ten minutes, you went from leaning against a wall, to sitting next to him, to sitting on his lap. He was hard, and you knew it. You were just playing with him at this point, waiting for him to break, to lose the battle against his morals and his decency.

And there was a limit to what a man could take, and you made him reach that limit when you laid down, resting your cheek on his thigh.

His resolve crumbled, leaning back as he let out a loud sigh.

- "Fuck… come here, babe…"

You smiled in victory, watching him unbuckle his belt. He looked around one last time, pressing his lips in a thin line, before taking out his semi-hard cock.

You smiled, immediately wrapping your hand around him in a firm grip. As much as you wanted to savor it, even you knew that it had to be done quick.

You looked up at him, noticing he was still looking around nervously, as if someone might magically appear into the shop. Your free hand found its way to his chin, gripping it so he would look at you instead. He let out a silent gasp at the sight, that devious smile stretching your face as you started pumping his shaft in a tantalizingly slow movement.

- "Eyes on me, love."

You muttered sultrily, giving his blushing tip a slow, sensual lick. God, he was so weak for you. You swore you could feel him twitch from the sight.

His free hand rested on top of your head, fiddling with a strand as if he was fighting the urge to just shove you down his length, while the other was on the floor, trying to support his weight so he could lean back even more, leaving you space.

You wasted no time putting both of your hands to work, pumping him while your tongue was brushing against his tip hastily.

His grip on your hair tightened, his breath shaky and his messy black hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat. This was such a beautiful sight for you, which only encouraged you to pick up with the pace.

- "F-Fuck… just like that baby…"

He said, his voice stifled and shaky in reaction to your lips wrapping around his length. He wanted to keep looking around, looking for eventual unexpected guests, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you and your bobbing head.

Fuck, it had to be one of the most erotic sights ever. Your lips stretched around his dick, trying to adjust to his size while tears were starting to prickle at the corners of your eyes. Oh fuck, he might just nut right now-

He didn’t even have the time to give you a warning before he shot his load deep down your throat, making you cough, quickly pulling away as you made him ride his orgasm with your fist.

He stared at you, his gaze apologetic yet lustful as he looked at you, cheeks flushed probably from the performance you put up a few seconds ago.

You glared at him, pushing his shoulder lightly, a slight pout on your face. He chuckled, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck as he sat up straighter.

- "Sorry baby… sometimes you’re just too damn hot, I can’t hold back…"

He caressed the top of your head, his other hand putting his softening cock back in his pants. He helped you sit up, scooting you over him. He looked around one last time, before looking back at you.

- "Spread those pretty legs f’me, time to return the favor…"

[nightisawkward]

"Another challenger… it has been ages. Perhaps you have forgotten how this game is played. Allow me to remind you."

Happy halloween fellas!!! Hermitcraft/Life SMP inscryption AU ft. Boatem gang I cooked up awhile ago but never got around to posting B-) Wild life smp has reminded me how mentally ill I am about putting these Guys in Situations so here I am

Mild to major inscryption spoilers under the cut!

For those familiar with the game, the general roles are:

Luke Carter - "Challenger"/Grian

In this AU Grian is still a trading card-based youtuber who's recording all this nonsense going down real time as in canon, but has closer ties to the GameFuna company equivalent, named "WatcherCorp". His old college roommate/best mate Jimmy went to work for them, but mysteriously passed away in a fire at their headquarters. He found the Inscryption cards in Jimmy's leftover personal belongings a few years after his death, and decided that the best way to honor him would be to make a video featuring the project he put his heart and soul into... in more ways than one.

Key difference from canon Inscryption: Grian's mind is sucked into the game of Inscryption whenever he is playing. He is able to enter and leave the game at will, but he doesn't realize this until he first dies to Leshy/Pearl and ejects himself unconsciously out of fear of dying. The only reason he realizes he isn't hallucinating is because his camcorder footage proves he actually enters the game. He obtains the "Watcher's Eye" during Act 1, which he keeps for all future acts and allows him to see things he shouldn't see as a Challenger.

P03 - "Scarred Stoat"/Scar

Despite being the one who convinces Grian and the other Scrybes to stand up against Pearl, no one seems eager to spend any more time with the conniving conman than absolutely necessary. This may have something to do with Scar's history of backstabbing and cheating both Scybes and Challengers whenever it benefits him most. Which makes it rather unfortunate that Grian is must spend time with Scar in order to gather as much information as possible.

In the beginning, Scar and Grian do not get along in the slightest. Grian finds Scar's attitude too "fake", while Scar finds Grian's "cowardice" to be irritating. At some point, the two go from passive-aggressive fighting, to a grudging truce, to more friendly, lighthearted banter. Neither person seems to trust the other, but it doesn't seem to stop the two from being ✨saddled with unnecessary feelings✨. Scar's Act 3 world is much like Leshy's Act 1 world, with much more emphasis put on environmental storytelling and general Vibes than actual gameplay. Even if his game is a smokescreen for his true goal of Ascension, he feels strangely obligated to give Grian his best shot.

Scar in his proper Scrybe form appears more steampunk than canon P03. Think of a Grumbot with Scar's boatem base aesthetic and tons of missing nuts and bolts. P03's bastardous tendencies+ Scar's steampunk base made this role perfect for him.

Magnificus - "Horned Wolf"/Impulse

Impulse is a talented artist and an even more talented programmer. His future sight stems from his literal sight: His eyes are able to see read the code veil behind Inscryption, allowing him to predict likely futures based on what code is running. He often laments his status as an NPC, claiming that if he were given administrative privileges and the actual ability to modify source code he would have been able to escape Inscryption long ago.

He is rather absent in Act 2, focusing on finishing his "artwork" as soon as possible. He uses his brush to create a menagerie magical creatures with strange abilities in hopes that using one in battle might trigger a unfixable bug, allowing him to rip a hole through the source code. It is unclear whether he was able to accomplish his goal before Act 3 roles around, but it seems like Scar's method of Ascension seems awfully similar to Impulse's... perhaps a sneaky spy was able to steal Impulse's information?

As a proper Scrybe, he resembles a walking mop or a yak with overgrown fur. Most of his features are indistinguishable, save for his small horns and his glowing goat eyes.

Lemora - "Distinguished Stinkbug"/Mumbo

Mumbo is by far the most easygoing Scrybe in the cast. While he would greatly prefer an eternal slumber over yet another temporary ceasefire amongst the Scrybes, he is willing to work with the others in Act 1 simply because he finds his stinkbug form too uncomfortable to sleep in. Mumbo's goal is simple: to delete the game of Inscryption, and therefore himself, and finally rest. However, finds the constant power struggles in the world of Inscryption rather tiring and simply can't be bothered to make a grab for power himself to achieve this goal. This hasn't stopped him from asking Grian to destroy floppy disk of Inscryption. Unfortunately for him, the temptation of the o̷l̵d̷ ̶d̸a̶t̷ [REDACTED] mysteries within Inscryption are simply too powerful for Grian to resist.

As a proper Scrybe, he looks almost exactly like Mumbo's minecraft skin: A pale, mustached man with blood red eyes who resembles a vampire. Mumbo denies all vampire allegations. While he is the most "normal" looking Scrybe, Grian would still hesitate to call him "human" ...there's just something slightly off about his appearance that sets him on edge.

Leshy - "Game Master"/Pearl

Pearl is an unforgiving gamemaster that puts more emphasis on providing the player a challenge than her canon counterpart. After her self-proclaimed "tutorial", there is no more handholding and she gives Grian an absolute hellish time. Grian is only able to get a slight edge when he discovers all of the Scrybes, who provide him with stategy help to even the playing field. It is unclear whether Pearl actually enjoys running her Act 1 game or not: she seems to derive an animalistic pleasure from defeating Grian, but there are times where she seems tired and fed up with the endless gameplay loop and intentionally throws during key fights. She switches between manic and depressed at the drop of a hat.

During Act 2, she barely even tries to give Grian a challenge, allowing him to progress straight to her boss fight without any side quests to "get it over with quicker". She seems to hold a deep grudge against Scar for some reason, which is the only thing that motivates her to take action to stop him during Act 3.

Mysteriously, Grian finds a burned and unusable Unicorn card within her Act 1 cabin. Upon discovery, Scar immediately suggests that Grian leave it where he found it. Some things are best left forgotten, after all...

[ariseur]

congrats on 500 followers! for your event could i request putting together ikea furniture with pre-nibelheim sephiroth please? seph doing mundane tasks is such a cute concept to me ��

thank you!

“. . are you sure it’s supposed to be put together like that?”

you huff, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you look back at sephiroth from behind you. you wouldn’t have minded some company from him any other time, but seeing the way his lips curled into a smile as he watched you struggle with the stupid nuts and bolts that wouldn’t fit in their proper locations, the hot sensation of frustration couldn’t help but prick at your ears.

“i’m trying,” you turn back to your project — maybe one that was failing a little bit but nonetheless still a project you wouldn’t give up on.

the size of sephiroth’s shadow grew as he made his way to crouch down next to you, the scent of bergamot and a fresh, woodsy cologne hitting you in the face as you look over to him. watching as he cocked his head, slit pupils darting along the set as he held a curious finger to his lips.

“would you care for me to assist you?” whether it was the close proximity or the way his voice lowered when he assessed the small instructional pamphlet that came with the furniture ( maybe it was a mixture of both ), but you couldn’t help but gaze at him.

truly a rare sight you had been gifted with. sephiroth no longer armor clad with the discomfort of his battles clinging onto him, instead you’re met with a white t-shirt perhaps a size too small as it hugs the firmness of his body. or.. perhaps you’ve just forgotten how strong he really is. it’s a nice change of pace, getting small notes of your body wash when he finally whips his head around to look at you.

he laughs, “let me rephrase,” the way his eyes crinkle with the soft chuckle you unintentionally evoke out of him is satisfying, you’d really like to hear it more often. “do you need me to assist you?” he alters the previous question. the way his eyes follow yours when you try to subtly avert his gaze is intense. he finds it cute, though — he remains still as he awaits your answer.

“i mean. . .” you trail off. you look back at the instructions and back at the screwdriver that lies limp in your palm, the redness of your hand still evident from how hard you were gripping the tool making you wince before you’re met with the cool hands of your beloved wrapping his around yours. his fingers curl around the tool before he uses his other hand to close your hand on his.

you look back up at him. he smiles once more. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

and you must admit, sitting on top of the couch while your boyfriend works at building this unnecessarily difficult desk chair you had been begging to go look at while he still had a day off, wasn’t so bad. you truly were spoiled by him, he thinks, but then again — he wouldn’t have it any other way.

your lips twitch upwards at the small sight of his pink tongue slipping through the corner of his lips in concentration, only darting out to moisten them a bit before they purse back into an assiduous pout.

“it’s not polite to stare, you know,” he mutters. you don’t falter, merely resting your head on your palm.

“i can’t admire the beautiful man before me?”

he lets a huff of amusement escape through his nose, maybe a combination between a scoff at how often you had managed to slip it in the conversation. he shakes his head at you fondly. “i suppose you could,” he mumbles.

you smiled as you tuck a silver strand behind his own ear, watching as he picks up another tool and gives you a half-smile from the corner of his peripheral. yeah, you thought, truly a rare sight you had been gifted with.

𐙚 join my taglist!! ; @snoopicle @ch3rryfiles

𐙚 dottie’s 500 follower event — 🍡 action prompt activity!

𐙚 regular requests are open — august second, 2024 [ 9:19 pm ]

[zvaigzdelasas]

Zimbabwe’s got itself a brand new iron and steel manufacturing plant, courtesy of the Chinese. This U.S. $1.5 billion Chinese-built plant’s blast furnace recently came online and is already producing pig iron, a crucial ingredient for making steel.

The team over at Dinson Iron and Steel Company (Disco), the Zimbabwean subsidiary of Chinese steel giant Tsingshan Holding Group, announced the production of their very first batch of pig iron on June 13. The Mvuma steel plant, situated about 120 miles south of Zimbabwe’s capital of Harare, is slated to be Africa’s largest integrated steelworks. According to a report in the South China Morning Post, it will also be one of Africa’s leading iron and steel producers.[...]

The Chinese firm plans to take things up a notch next month. That’s when the new steel manufacturing plant will start producing billets, the precursor to making steel. There are also plans to begin creating steel products like pipes, bolts, nuts, and even smaller slags, rolled tubes, fences, shafts, wires, and bars.

As part of the first production phase, the new plant recently set a target to make 600,000 tons of steel annually. Later, after the final phase, that production target grows to more than 5 million tons. The plant will also create jobs for the people of Zimbabwe. In the first phase alone, the new steel manufacturing facility hopes to employ around 2,000 people. This figure would double in the second phase. [...]

According to some experts, the steel plant could be a game-changer for Zimbabwe. The country has wanted to revive its iron and steel industry for a while now, especially after its largest steel plant shut down during the reign of ex-president Robert Mugabe.

In the coming years, the plant hopes to make use of Zimbabwe’s ample deposits of iron ore, chrome, coal, and more to produce iron and steel products that will strengthen the country’s value chain. Government officials recently stated that companies will mine and process these raw materials locally, with reserves projected to last for a whopping 100 years.

As a nation, Zimbabwe remains blessed with a wealth of natural resources like precious metals, nickel, ferroalloys and coking coal. According to analysts from inside and outside the country, these resources have the potential to help alleviate the country’s economic crisis.[...]

For over two decades, the U.S. and some European countries imposed sanctions on Zimbabwe. In March this year, the U.S., while terminating a Zimbabwe sanctions program, reimposed curbs on eleven individuals and three entities. This included the country’s president, Emmerson Mnangagwa, accused of human rights abuses, among other things. Chinese entities have capitalized on the situation by funding various projects in Zimbabwe, including dams, airports and a new parliament building.

Zimbabwe is also rich in lithium, a critical raw material for electric vehicle batteries. As a result, Chinese companies such as Zhejiang Huayou Cobalt and Sinomine Resource Group invested millions of dollars in acquiring lithium mines and over U.S.$1 billion in constructing processing plants.

12 Jul 24

[foone]

So during a meeting the question came up "is Meccano the same as Erector Sets?" and I had to look it up.

So Meccano started making a constructor set in 1901, in England, where metal strips are connected with other pieces using nuts and bolts. It was an important introduction to mechanical engineering for a lot of kids.

And in 1913, a construction set was launched in the US, called Erector. It similarly involved metal strips that could be connected together with nuts and bolts, and was an important introduction to mechanical engineering for a lot of kids.

So they're not the same, just similar toys in different countries.

Except, in 1990, Meccano purchased the Erector brand, and unified their toys. And both companies, now merged, were purchased by the Canadian toy company Spin Master (creators and owners by PAW Patrol) in 2013. They're still making Meccano in Europe, but Meccano sets in the US are sold as "Erector by Meccano", to tie back into the name brand better known in America.

Anyway, if you want to ask me "are you a boy or a girl?", this is the kind of answer I'd have to give you.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Hi! I wanted to try asking a Talk Shop Tuesday thing but unfortunately I cannot find the freaking post (trying to find things I know exist on tumblr sometimes drives me nuts) so I am throwing an 'elaboration on an au' query out there.

What do the 212th and possibly the other troopers think about Edlritch-Horror-Wrapped-in-a-Disney-Princess Obi-Wan? Aside from dedicating a cult to him just like. That's a really fun au so what do you think was their reaction to him?

I know the frustration of tying to search for something on this site. IF you happen to find the post, send it along.

Back to the Eldritch in a Disny Princess Obi Wan.

So it is important to remember that, for all that Mace Windu called it, the 212th cult was not deliberate, nor did they realize they were forming a cult until well after the fact. In fact, it was not until after the war, when a reporter brought up the possibility of having their religion recognized that their devotion to Obi Wan is religious (among other things).

From the first moment Obi Wan met the 212th, he has radiated a protective energy about the clones. This is an intense feeling for those who encounter it. The 212th, Ghost Company in particular, quickly acclimates to the feeling, even beginning to crave it. The 501st, as battalion next most frequently in contact with Obi Wan,  do not notice as much, but the other battalions say that going into battle with Obi Wan is a bit off putting, akin to having a heavy blanket being wrapped around their minds (no one is quite sure how to describe it).   

Obi Wan does change the people he loves on a fundamental level, after a certain level of exposure is reached. It is utterly unconscious on his part. The 212th hit that level of exposure about six months into the war.  It’s subtle, though everyone noticed that the casualty rate of the 212th, already the lowest in the GAR, dropped even further. But the 212th clones do take on aspects of being something Other that only become obvious when they are standing next to thor non 212th brethren. 

Rumors begin to circulate through the GAR, spread primarily by the natborns. That the 212th sacrificed to something for their luck. That they have made some deal. The other clones will vehemently deny their brothers doing anything wrong, but every so often Cody will kick a clankers head clear across the battlefield orr Helix will race to an injured clone an the blaster bolts will seem to pass right through him an the non 212th clones that witness it will glance at each other, uneasy.

The unease lessens and vanishes the more a battalion spends time with the 212th (for the clones and the Jedi at least, the natborn officers tends to get more uneasy the longer they worked with th 212th- strangely enough there tended to be a direct correlation between how badly the officer treated the clones and how hunted they felt around the 212th). 

[writing-havoc]

Let it be that

♡ Summary: It's late in the night when his demons wreak the most havoc. You're there to keep Nikolai company.

♡ Pairing: Nikolai x reader

♡ Fandom: Shadow and Bone, Grishaverse

♡ Warning(s): None,,,, I think. There's a bit about a snake swirling in a gut if that's a particularly bad ick

♡ WC: 2.4k

Yooo a Nikolai fic for the Nikolai lovers.

This is written in sort of a weird in-between stage? He has control over the nichevo'ya in him, so the sleeping tonics aren't really necessary anymore, but he's still king. So do with that what you will.

It's basically 2k+ words of him yearning.

Please excuse any spelling or grammar mistakes.

Hope you enjoy <3

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

Eye bags threaten to weigh down his entire face from beneath the wanning tailored mask. He was told by Zoya he looked as if he lost a fight with an ambidextrous boxer. And if the tired, yet handsome, man in the mirror truly was him, then she was right.

He really needed some sleep.

But it refused to come to him. Tonics and blood coming to mind at a mere glance of his bed. It makes his stomach turn and gives him the uncomfortable urge to constantly look over his shoulder, despite the threat being inside. And when he realizes that, he can't stop staring at his hands and chest, and it almost looks and feels like the black that covers his fingers is trailing up his palm, and then he blinks and it starts all over.

No matter how in control he feels, some days there's just a lingering anxiety about it.

Sleep isn't coming. Not for a long time. Not until he physically exhausts himself and passes out, and then still he may resist.

But it's not like he has anything to do. His quarters are barren of anything he may find interesting at this hour, and he would rather not get piss drunk just to pass the time with an early meeting tomorrow- today?

He takes a look out his window, marking the positions of the shadow from the moon, and confirms that it is, in fact, today.

It only makes his eyes hurt, a low growling coming from in his mind and possibly escaping his throat.

A knocking on his doorway startles him out of it.

"Enter." He says a lot more curtly than he intends. He bites his tongue.

"I don't think I want to anymore given that tone." Immediately he bites it harder, if only to stop a long winding nervous ramble about the new flower placed outside his window, which also happens to be your favorite.

You stand in the space of his open doorway, hand on the handle and your body half ready to tuck tail and flee. "May I?"

"Of course." He says, a bit too fast, and takes out his chair from his desk and drags it over to beside the bed.

The door shuts with a grand thunk, and your footsteps pad over quieter than ever. He places a pillow on top of the hard wood, just how you like it, and gestures for you to sit.

"I know you aren't a fan." You say, sitting atop the pillow. "So I wanted to hang out for a bit."

He smiles softly, and vaguely notes the roses drifting in at the corners of his eyes. "You mustn't stay up just for me. Beauty sleep is vital, especially for someone as attractive as thee."

You snort, giving him a look that at surface level reads annoyance, but he knows better, seeing the fond disbelief for what it is. "'Someone as attractive as thee?' Really? Didn't know this was a poetry class."

"I have to keep you on your toes. Can't allow you to know everything now can I? How would I ever surprise you?"

"You surprise me every day, Nikolai." His heart thrumps against his chest. "I don't think a change in vocabulary is required."

He snorts. "You have me there."

"That I do."

He takes in your appearance, and nearly gets on his knees when he realizes the soft white cloth that covers your torso has small embroideries on it, all of which hold a certain interest to your craft and possibly his own.

Gears, nuts, bolts, and wires stipple along your shoulders, falling down to your torso, where they plunge into flowing water at the hem. A design similar to a grisha kefta dances along your other sleeve, the same color at the bolts with dashes of purple if you look close enough.

He realizes you are the one that embroidered the details into the shirt, your signature shading technique used throughout the piece.

"How long did these take you?" He barely brushes his finger over the hem of the shirt, then presses down to feel the individual stitches.

You pick up the hem, feeling your own work as well. "A lot longer than I would like." Your voice is low and rumbly as you try to remain relatively quiet. "I kept messing up and changing the color part way through. I actually had to change shirts because I restarted so many times on the first one that the threads didn't want to hold together."

He believes it.

The care you take to make sure every line serves a purpose is inspiring. It makes him want to tinker with the parts around his room, take apart a clock like the young boy he once was did, now that all the clocks are his.

Perhaps he could sneak to Lazlayon. David will probably still be there. The three of you could work until his meeting.

But you'd be cranky the rest of the day. You'd have no problem staying up late to accompany him until it becomes a problem, and then you do yourself the disservice of playing it off like it's fine when everyone else is giving you a very wide berth in the halls and courtyard.

He would like you to have a social life.

"You alright?" He hears you ask.

You're half smiling when he looks up, trying really hard keep his eyes locked on yours and not elsewhere. "I'm not that readable. I know I'm not."

"You had nothing on your face." You admit, leaning in. "And that was the problem."

And doesn't that make him feel bare, vulnerable. To be known so well that even a lack of an expression is an expression in and of itself.

He feels his lips pull apart, the slight stickiness of his mouth slowly separating as he tries to think of something witty, something fast, and it feels like his mind is blank except for the blaringly obvious reason.

"I can't sleep." He whispers, eyes fluttering. "I can't sleep, and everything that could help is exactly the reason why I can't." He let's the hem fall from his fingers, dragging what feels like 40 pounds of dead weight back over to his own lap. "And you're sitting here, staying with me, and there's nothing I can do about the ocean of guilt my stomach and heart and any other organ that has the capacity for feelings are swimming in."

Guilt is the reigning emotion, making it feel like a snake is swimming through his gut, playing with his liver and choking his heart and lungs. If he thinks about it he can feel the tongue flickering and tickling stomach.

He's grateful you're here, but he wants so badly to either force you to leave or drag you into his bed so that you might get some modicum of sleep.

But you'd fight him every step of the way, pushing your heels into the floor (which would scratch them up and you'd complain about it tomorrow) and getting yanked out by his guards when they assume the worst.

And if he chose the second one... it twists his insides in a more pleasant way, but makes his head swim, and really really scares him. Because if you take it the way he really wishes it was, the way he dreams about, then he loses you, and may be seen as just like his father. And that's the worst thing he could ask for.

So he's stuck. He's stuck with the guilt until you decide to leave.

"I feel like we have the same conversation everytime I'm here." You chuckle, and he chuckles too.

"It's probably because we do. Or at least some version of it with varying words of vulnerability."

You lean forward more, arms crossed over your chest. "And it always ends up the same."

It does. It always ends with you sitting there for a few hours until you tire and then he has a guard guide you back to your room.

"But it doesn't need to." He scoots along the side of the bed, sinking into the sewn cloth filled with wool and feathers. "You're tired when you walk out of here and need an extra four cups of coffee when you wake up, and you hate coffee."

"But I like you." You turn in his chair facing directly towards him and he can't breathe anymore.

He doesn't know what way you mean that, if it means in any capacity the way he yearns for it to be. So he waits, with baited breath, for you to elaborate.

"I like you." You emphasize once more. "I like staying up into the latest hours of the night, either talking about everything and nothing or sitting in silence. I look forward to them, actually. Just existing in your presense is enough to make the obscene amounts of caffeine worth it."

It's on the edge. It could be a confession or it could just be you being nice. And he would rather throw himself into the unsea than be one of those guys he hears you complain about.

"I want to be here." You stand and move your chair, pushing it away from the bed. He barely has time to sit up straight before you're right in front of him, legs falling open to allow you closer as your hands come up and rest on his cheeks.

"I want you, Nikolai, wholly and completely, just as you are now. With every flaw and blemish etched into your being, a demon awaiting in your chest." Your thumbs gently glide over his bottom lip, coming to rest at the corner of his open mouth. "But there's a small part of me that fears you do not want me in the way that I want you."

He doesn't know how to respond. He couldn't possibly begin to string together any number of words that could convey even a semblance of the sincerity you ambushed him with.

He's a king for saints sake. Words are supposed to come to him in times of need.

But his mind is an endless fog, and the only thing he can think of is you.

You standing above him, pads of your fingers touching him so gently, palms radiating a warmth that makes him want to lean in and soak in it (he does), and a perfect mouth and mind that pair so well.

He needs to convince you. He needs to somehow tell you that you mean everything to him and more.

"Did you know my favorite drink is brandy?" He asks, looking you right in the eye.

Your eyebrows crinkle, but you smile. "I did."

He tugs you towards him, hands sliding up your back as you take tiny, unsure steps closer and closer. His fingers trail under your shirt, right against your warm skin and in the divet of your spine, and squeeze you until you're completely between his legs, chest leaning back just to get a look at him.

"If there was ever a time where you wanted the last drop of it, saints, the whole bottle, I would give it over in a heartbeat." Goosebumps dance along his skin when your fingers meet the base of his neck, toying with the hair. "If you hated the way a painting looked, i'd throw it out of the castle, and have it burned on the steps if it should please you. If you wanted a pastry from a shop two hundred miles away, i'd fly there immediately, ride there as fast as I could, or sprint the entire distance, if it meant you could eat it."

Your eyes scittered around his face, watching his brows, his eyes, his mouth, and even his ears, for anything. Anything he would give you to tell you he was lying.

But there was nothing to give.

He really would give you the last drop of brandy. He really would fly, ride, sprint two hundred miles for a pastry. "I would kiss you right now if you should request it, or leave from my own chambers should you request that instead."

"Nikolai." You whisper his name, his eyes fluttering the same time as his heart.

"I want you." He tells you forthright. "I want you in the way you want me. If you should ever need to be confident in something, let it be that."

Please, please let it be that.

You look at him, and all he can see is someone he wants. There isn't a thing about you that makes him turn away. Not your eating habits, not your hygiene, not your smell or your walk or your stance.

And as you lean down, placing those perfect lips right over his, definitely not your taste.

It's coffee and whatever berries were leftover from supper, the stickiness of sugar coating your lips from when you licked them clean.

You lean back, and he feels your lips press themselves over his cheek. His stomach turns and turns and turns and it won't stop. It makes his breath shakey and his closed eyes roll even further and further back in into his skull until he's sure they won't ever come back.

But more importantly it makes him feel warm, and warmer yet as you place a kiss over his eyes, the corners of his lips where your fingers rested, between his brows, the awkward bridge and tip of his nose, his chin. Your hands are gentle as they rest in the space between his neck and shoulder, and even still as your fingers find his nape and your lips kiss his again. Each part of him feels raw and exposed.

It's terrifying, and every bit as pleasing.

When you lean back a second time, he opens his eyes, and sees you smiling.

He hums. "If this is where not sleeping gets me, I'm going to have to do it more often."

"You already do it almost every night." You chuckle. "Besides, you don't need to go through all of that just to get a few kisses. I'd be happy to hand them over whenever you like."

"Whenever?" He presses.

"Whenever."

"Now?"

"If you like."

"I would like very much."

He's not all that surprised when you indulge him.

[doobnnoob-tf2]

The Mercs go to the park. What are each of them up to?

Scout: he's the first one out of the vehicles, not even waiting for them to completely stop before he's out of his seatbelt and throwing open the door. he starts off attempting to flirt with a few moms there, before he turns his attention to a group of kids playing catch. he spends the rest of the afternoon there teaching them how to properly play baseball

Soldier: no one knows how he did it, someone suspects he stole a bag of peanuts from an old lady. but he's gotten together all of the squirrels in the area and has trained them into being his own, personal army. some are even wearing acorn caps as tiny helmets and they all sit up in trees and pelt every adult, child, and animal with various nuts as they pass by below

Pyro: they immediately bolt for the play equipment before anyone can stop them, which startles quite a few of the parents. however, when a group of older kids enter the park and start to bully some of the younger kids, they're quick to scare them all off. after that, the parents appoint them the park babysitter for the afternoon and they spend the rest of their time playing on the equipment with the kids

Demoman: it's hot outside, so he grabbed his swim trunks and goes right for the water area with all the sprinklers and whatnot. he gets many looks, but no one bothers him after he starts pretend fighting the giant dragon that sprays water out of its mouth from time to time. it's entertaining for the adults and kids. it all comes to an end when after he thinks he's defeated the beast, it blasts him in the back. he has a very dramatic death scene and the kids all go pick flowers to lay on his "corpse"

Heavy: he goes and finds a shady bench to sit at with Medic, both to people watch and to feed the birds. he brings along one of his books as well as a portable music player to enjoy since they wanted to have their own private space without bothering anyone else. eventually, he has to take over feeding the birds solely and ends up covered in them by the time they're due to leave

Engineer: he already knew the park had a cookout area, and brought along things to cook for the team. what he didn't expect to have happen was for everyone else there to start bringing over things they brought as well for him to cook too. often paying him in beer to do so. he doesn't mind at all and enjoys the company it brings. however, there are several husbands and dads that glare at him from afar for showing them up when suddenly no one wants their cooking anymore

Medic: he finds a nice, shady, quiet spot with Heavy to sit and listen to music and chat and feed birds with. what he wasn't expecting however was for there to be a stowaway. not long into feeding the birds, he has a very jealous Archimedes attacking his head for daring to give other birds attention. which quickly turns into him watching Heavy feed the birds while he handfeeds Archimedes on his lap

Sniper: he said his plans to everyone before leaving: he was going to find a spot in the grass and lay down and take a nap. and when he got there, that's just what he did. he found himself a very nice spot, laid down, and dropped his hat on his face to sleep. someone eventually looks over and sees he's missing. no one thinks of it until they hear talks of a man who was currently in the dog park area, covered in dogs and playing with them all while their owners watch on

Spy: he sees the lawn care people leaving as they're pulling in and already knows what's to come. he smells the fresh cut grass the moment Scout opens the door and bails out and he can feel his eyes watering and getting itchy. he has a grass allergy and ends up turning into a miserable, grouchy mess, finding himself a bench far, FAR away from the others to sit at. he sits and complains to himself in as many languages are he can, sneezing and resisting every urge to rub his eyes