#refurbished story

[imaginaryari]

Charged

The thunder is deafening as Relay5154 waits on the building’s roof for what always follows. He’s tired and soaked, been so for a while now but the sensation no longer bothers him, actually makes his purpose up here faster.

He could just go to a power plant, or siphon it from folks hoarding it. But he rather the storm, and siphoning is illegal. “It tastes better and lasts longer” is how he justifies it and as long as he’s not seen no one will know his true nature.

See, Relay5154 looks like anyone else. Average height, maybe some interesting tattoos, cropped copper hair to prevent oil and debris from clinging to him more than it needs to. No one would know he’s a battery on first or second glance.

The bolt strikes the metal pole he’s leaning on just right and he’s engulfed in burning white light. He savors the energy coursing through his veins and feels the most alive he’s been in weeks. Finally awake and alert, he stays on the roof a bit longer waiting for his body to dim. He prefers that no one knows what he is and the white light from a recent recharge is very damning.

As he waits, soaked and electrified, he surveys the rooftops again. As usual no one is around because it would be insane to leave the house in a storm this bad. Still, he can’t be too careful. The windows on the neighboring buildings are covered, the roofs remain clear, there’s barely any traffic on the roads.

And yet, he catches a flash, one he might have imagined in the wind and rain. A bird? no. something toppling in the storm? most likely. Someone hiding? he hopes not.

He doesn’t worry about it, now dimmed and ready to dry off and go back for his daily task of fixing tiny bots.

Soaked and high off the adrenaline of a successful run, Ayame trails Cannon as they seek refuge from the rain. They’re both stifling laughter after tricking the security drone on the train they’ve just hopped. Lightning catches Ayame’s attention and she looks, up towards the building it’s struck.

There’s a man on the roof, standing right where the lighting hit. She gasps as he glows bright white, confused and fascinated.

“Aya?” Cannon asks, breaking her transfixed glare.

She looks to him, “There’s a man up there!” She say pointing, but as she turns back, the glowing man is gone leaving the roof empty.

“Oh, he’s gone.”

“I would hope so,” Cannon says, “It’s crazy to be out in this weather.”

Ayame rolls her eyes at him but looks back one more time hoping for one more glance.

Thunder roars, and she follows Cannon to safety.

[sandwormb]

Do you like my creatures

[devouring-hive]

Who knows by how many years their recklessness may have cut their life short? It’s likely that they don’t know, and it’s near certain that they don’t care.

‘More’ is in what’s attainable, what’s indulged in, not what’s lost.

[bisexualmcqueen]

new tags alert

"sequel fic era" for any posts that have my yet-unnamed sequel fic (post cars 3) content

characters like lightning, tex, roger, westley, corey, takes place circa 2018-2020

and "prequel fic era" for my pre-cars 1 stuff- this one has a name and a few (in need of rewrite) chapters on ao3, titled "newly refurbished"

lightning and mack friendship. based off of a cars storybook. takes place 2004-2005

ill possibly make an "origin era" tag for mcqueen's childhood and a "midquel era" tag for shenanigans post-cars VG (pre-cars 2)

[stardustedknuckles]

My dad was being homophobic on insta so I'm counterbalancing.

[camping-with-monsters]

EVERYONE REMAIN CALM. WHY ARE THESE TWO BACK.

So I mentioned a while back wanting to completely redo everything there was to the Snapdragon Family’s story. Originally I had it where Daisy-Mae was actually an unforgivable person but as time went on (and I personally healed from my own troubles) the desire to change the narrative grew stronger.

I don’t 100% know where Rupert and Forget-Me-Not are atm but I’ve been thinking about separating their story into it’s own thing. They’re still here though. As for Daisy-Mae and Cuckoo, things have changed. Yes, Milagros did still die around Daisy’s vicinity, but Daisy-Mae didn’t actually kill Milagros. But she did freak out so bad when she found her daughter drowned in the lake seemingly by a freakish accident that in trying to wake her up, Daisy accidentally bruised her several times, losing all sense of judgement when right up to her dead daughter. She fled in extreme delirium and went missing entirely. When Rupert discovered this and reports were made, the death was ruled as a murder rather than an accident as Daisy was the only other person there and the bruises furthered that ruling.

Everyone who had relation to Daisy-Mae believes the ruling. She never showed up to prove her innocence on that department. But why? Because as she fled and freaked out, the mysterious Almighty Cuckoo, the chaotic and sporadic entity, approached the woman, taking pity on her situation. She promised to help her find solace through this and eternal safety from their false accusations. But what did Cuckoo do? He began to keep Daisy-Mae “hostage” which was what he called protection. She started to further manipulate her that she was her only saving grace, and it’s not often a godlike approaches any random human, so she best be on her best behavior. To further protect Daisy, Cuckoo even helped her fake her own death, getting her off the grid. With an identity stripped like that and all sense of what really happened distorted, and a world believing a lie… it doesn’t seem like there’s much Daisy can do on her own right now but hope there will be a sign one day.

Even besides all this obvious manipulation and obsessiveness, these two are capable of having some silly banter between each other and do try to at least treat each other as good friends, even if the power dynamic is high and the introduction is harrowing.

[hauntingofhouses]

stories about home and belonging. about parents and children. about friendship and community and family. about connection and understanding.

home as warmth and love and comfort and respite. home as familiarity and knowing. home as vulnerability but also shelter.

home as your own body. when it doesn't feel right you reconstruct it.

because homes are something you build, at the end of the day. and thus must be maintained, renovated, decorated. or you can start again from scratch. brick by brick.

[subsequentibis]

kicking my feet giggling plotting out a transformers au for john specifically

[gh-0-stcup]

Due to a woeful lack of content, I may or may not have started a Dangel game in the Sims lol.

[mango-shpango]

idk if yall agree or even care but IMO i dont like how the rides are so quickly changed to match new movies or popular franchises

[imaginaryari]

Intro

Batteries are strange—not humans but look and behave like them. not machines but built and need to recharge. Possibly a secret third thing from a distant satellite holding immense power. Relay5154 is one of these batteries and has come to this planet just to work.

The thunder is deafening as Relay5154 waits on the building’s roof for what always follows. He’s tired and soaked from the unrelenting rain and has been so for a while now. The sensation no longer bothers him, actually makes his purpose up here faster.

He could just go to a power plant, or siphon it from folks hoarding it. But he rather the storm (and siphoning is illegal). “It tastes better and lasts longer” is how he justifies it and as long as he’s not seen no one will know his true nature.

See, Relay5154 looks like anyone else. Average height, maybe some interesting tattoos, cropped copper hair to prevent oil and debris from clinging to him more than it needs to. No one would know he’s a battery on first or second glance.

The bolt strikes the metal pole he’s leaning on just right and he’s engulfed in burning white light. He savers the energy coursing through his veins and feels the most alive he’s been in weeks. Finally awake and alert, he stays on the roof a bit longer waiting for his body to dim. He prefers that no one know what he is and the white light from a recent recharge is very damning.

[penny-anna]

honestly kinda unfortunate that the only spooky library aesthetic is the victorian fancy bookshelves dark academia one bcos like. ok here's some library stories.

while i was at the university the library was undergoing a major refurbishment so for a little while the print journals were being stored temporarily down in the basement.

basically nobody ever consulted the print journals bcos 99% of stuff undergrads would be looking up is online these days so every time i went down there it was dead fucking silent & empty. you had to walk through what felt like several miles of empty basement to reach the collection, which was in a room w a photocopier shoved in the corner and a bunch of these:

u turn the handles to move these around (saves space) and every time you had to go and check the aisles first on the offchance that someone was in there so they wouldn't get u know. Compacted.

many years ago i did a week's work experience with the National Library of Scotland. here it is:

but that's just the tip of the iceberg. it keeps going down the side of the bridge, like so:

i got a tour of the stacks while i was there. it's floor after floor of this:

the bookshelves are made of metal & i was treated to the 'fun fact' that the shelves are, bizarrely, load bearing. for this reason they have to be constantly vigilant about fire hazards because even a relatively small fire could cause a bookcase to buckle from the heat, which in turn could cause the whole building to collapse in on itself like a house of cards.

this has haunted me ever since!! thank you.

[mariannasposts]

A Dress with a Story

I have taken up a new hobby in retirement all because of my daughter’s upcoming nuptials. She decided she wanted to wear a vintage dress, something from the 1940ies.  She found her dream dress on eBay, and I bid on it.  Without warning, I received a notice from the seller that the dress was no longer available. I sent the seller a note saying I was very interested in the dress. The seller’s…

[ahordeofwasps]

Trying to decide which wip to edit. Stuck between Mayday and Ghostwriter. I like both, but for different reasons. Ghostwriter is a cute bit of wholesome horror, while Mayday has a lot going on that works surprisingly well.

I'm leaning towards editing Ghostwriter as it's just a tiny novella, while Mayday is a script for a series of audiologs, which would be an ambitious project for me to bring to completion.

I likely won't edit Mayday this time, but I'm honestly happy with how it turned out. I'll likely return to it someday, when I've learned more and have more resources to properly tackle it.

[eggwhiteswithspinach]

👏 Refurbish Your Writer’s Toolkit with this Indie Short Story

[zoison]

Exterior (London)