#slax

[iamsweetcrow]

Duckvember Day 30: Nostalgic Duck

"It's Quackula! He's back! In plush form!"

I had another idea in mind with these two ducks but their faces got complicated. I had forgotten what the teeth of these two ducks looked like. And the duckling plushies didn't turn out as cute as I wanted.

Geextah and Slax are the protagonists of the series: X-DuckX. They are two best friends who like extreme sports.

Unfortunately, the series is a Lost media, both in English and Spanish.

The stuffed ducks are: Duckula, Quackula and Bill.

[iammannyj]

Reviving Old Computers: My Journey with Linux Mint and Other Distros

If you’re like me, you hate the idea of throwing away perfectly good electronics just because they’re a bit outdated. That’s why I’ve been experimenting with various Linux distributions over the years to get the most out of my old machines. I’ve tried everything from Ubuntu to Puppy Linux, but the one that’s stuck with me the longest is Linux Mint. As my daily driver, Linux Mint has proven to be…

[flamin-neko]

I love Slax

I've been listening to them for years now, because bootleg-anime-j-core-music is my hyperfixation

[linuxiarzepl]

PorteuX

Dodane do bazy: dystrybucja Linux PorteuX. PorteuX to modułowa dystrybucja Linux oparta na Slackware, zainspirowana przez Slax i Porteus. https://linuxiarze.pl/distro-porteux/

[archiveosorg]

OWASP LiveCD

OWASP LiveCD – a Slax-based liveCD of an open environment for web application security. The Open Worldwide Application Security Project (OWASP) is a nonprofit foundation that works to improve the security of software https://archiveos.org/owasp-livecd/

[strangechildproductions]

Probably a little too ambitious for the canvas size I used but have it anyway spent almost 10 hours on it

I call it guardian angel

This piece imma hold onto for either Pride or a fair of some kind to sell at a booth...

Also Easter egg of @makoto-kaiser-blog 's avatar

[blessedpanda]

Slax.

Here to give you a shit post of a yokai watch character, His gimmick? He is being the reason why your pants fall down.

[sombritas-des]

Barren Hills

It's been months already since the beheaded joined drifter in his quest their presence becoming more and more anchoring for the drifter ,The Jackal duty calls, and he must answer, but the weight of his quest bears down on him. He knows that activating the remaining obelisk will unlock the final chapter, and the thought fills him with trepidation.

The Beheaded senses the Drifter's unease, their flames flickering with concern. They know the Drifter's fears and that his stubbornness would never allow him to speak it, they won't push him as for them knowing less is better.

Together, they pour over ancient maps and codes, seeking the location of the next obelisk using passing notes of the guardian they managed to center the location.

As they prepare to depart, the Drifter's apprehension grows . He's afraid of the aftermath, of what will happen once his quest is complete. Will he lose the Beheaded? Or more important would taking down Judgment save him from his fate? His sickness is getting worst and he uncertainty gnaws at his heart.

The Beheaded, sensing his distress, grabs drifters shoulders , offering comfort a gentle squeeze on his shoulders grounds the drifter back in the room and out of his thoughts. -"We'll face it together,"- they sign, their hands weaving a gentle pattern. "Whatever comes next, we'll face it as one."

The Drifter nods, steeling himself for the journey ahead. Together, they set out, ready to face the unknown.

The Drifter's mind is consumed by the Beheaded's words, "We'll face it together," as they journey to the Barren Hills. He can't shake off the feeling of impending doom, the weight of his mortality settling heavy on his heart, the thoughts were overwhelming him taking a spiral of chaotic thoughts.

Looking at the Beheaded's slax behavior and gentle flames only serve to heighten the Drifter's anguish. He knows that their bond will soon be tested, they were almost unaware of the posible outcome and the likelihood of his survival is slim to none. He could feel the imminent doom of his quest looms before him like a specter, threatening to tear them apart. That even could be taken figuratively.

As they venture deeper into the Wastes , the Drifter's thoughts grow increasingly dark. He can't bear the thought of leaving the Beheaded behind, of not being able to stay longer than he thought . The sting of his own mortality pierces his heart, and he knows that he must find a way to prepare the Beheaded for the inevitable.

But how can he do so without shattering the fragile hope that sustains them? The Drifter's dilemma tortures him, his mind racing with the consequences of his quest. He knows that he must confront the truth, no matter how painful, and find a way to ensure the Beheaded's survival, even if it means sacrificing his own.

The Drifter comes to a stop, his firm hand holding his neckless as a comfort as the turmoil of thoughts race to be spit out of his brain. "I have a request to make of you," he says, his voice laced with emotion.

The Beheaded stops and gives him a conflicted view, sensing the gravity of the moment. Their body turns to see a deflated drifter, anxiety crawling out of him as if his shadow decided to grew larger.

The Drifter breaks, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I might die after our quest. Once we face Judgment, it might end up taking my life." He pauses, his eyes locking onto the Beheaded's. "I ask you...to take my body with you once I perish. Use it as a vessel, so we can stay together, I might be sick but I'll prove strength."

The Beheaded's expression softens, their flames flickering with concern. They might overhead what drifter said and confusion filled their core -"We'll face it together," they sign, their hands weaving a gentle pattern, recalling their earlier promise.

The Drifter's voice cracks. "No!...no you don't understand. I won't have you facing what comes next alone I'll fight , but Take my body, my heart, my soul. Carry me with you, always, I don't want to be just..." The voice of the drifter cracks unable to continue.

The Beheaded's flame flickers , their gaze burning with intensity. Their hands tremble as they sign their response. "I'll take your body, your heart, your soul. I'll carry you with me, always. We'll stay together, no matter what lies beyond, I'll make you prevail...."

The Drifter's eyes well up with tears, his heart overflowing with emotion, as he nods, knowing that the Beheaded has accepted his request. In that moment, they seal their fate. The sickness might consume him but his presence would prevail thanks to the beheaded. At least he can offer himself as a memory, a memory that might look like a selfish burden, but a memory nonetheless.

As the Beheaded holds the Drifter close, their mind begins to wander to the weighty request the Drifter has made. They think about taking the Drifter's body as their host, and a sense of unease settles in. It feels wrong, somehow - a violation of the natural order, a blurring of lines that shouldn't be crossed.

Taking a body shouldn't be hard for them right? It's just a host..they done it many times...

But as they look into the Drifter's eyes, they see the depth of his emotion, the sincerity of his request. They know that denying him would be like denying a part of themselves. They can't bear the thought of leaving him behind, of continuing on without him by their side.

The Beheaded's flames flicker with inner turmoil, their mind racing with the implications of what they're considering. They think about what it would mean to take the Drifter's body, to use it as a vessel for their own consciousness. It's a daunting prospect, one that fills them with trepidation.

And yet, they know they can't say no. They can't deny the Drifter's wish, not when it means so much to him. They'll find a way to make it work, to make this strange and unfamiliar thing into something beautiful.

As they hold the Drifter close, they make a silent promise to themselves: they'll do this, no matter how hard it gets. They'll take the Drifter's body, and they'll make it their own. They'll carry him with them, always, and they'll never let him go and once is time to go they'll cherish it as a logging memory of hope. Hope of some normalcy.

Maybe this is the time they learned how to grief, but the mere thought shakes their core, a strange mixture of anger and sadness.

Why does mortality have to be so complex and yet so endearing...

----

Don't hate me u all

[kit-williams]

Happy Baby

Hey... who wants more angst? In the Husbandry tag?

Zharth Erenor looked around the warband as he was hearing a baby cry. "Slax." His brother in question looked to him and hummed, "Is there a Night Lord with us?"

"No brother Zharth... Shall you go collect it or I?" Slax said boredly as the two looked to the now empty drug den as in the distance were screaming humans or their bodies laid littered at their feet.

"I'll go collect it. Or kill it... who knows?" He said as they both laughed at the whimsy in which Zharth said it.

He looked around as he walked up the steps and heading to a back room seeing a body looking quite blue most likely dead before they even arrived. The screaming infant was in here as they cried for a dead mother. Probably would be more merciful to put it out of its misery but this would be a fine sac-

Zharth blinked as he looked down at the baby and something inside of him shifted. His thoughts stopped and changed from how the baby would be a good offering to the dark gods to... why was his charge cold... Zharth didn't even register what had happened as he delicately picked up the small human and looked around. Slax would be outside...

"Zharth?" The Black Legionary called inside now worried. He moved with slow steps heading up the stairs and looked at Zharth's back as he could hear Zharth's unmodified voice trying to soothe the human baby. "Not you..." Slax said with his shoulders slumping.

It felt like losing a brother to the zombie plague... it just happened sometime but Zharth and Slax had been together since they were Sons of Horus. Zharth spun around bolter drawn. "Slax..."

Slax looked at Zharth and there was a strange look in his eyes a sudden ferocity... a feral like quality to them... a madness blessed by Khorne almost... a tenderness brought on by Nurgle... he had Bonded as the Prophet was calling the madness. "Brother... give me the mortal." He said softly holding out his hand.

Zharth backed away holding the baby close, having half wrapped the fur cloak around the infant. "Brother... leave me be."

"I can't do that Zharth... give me the mortal." He pleaded before Zharth fled smashing through the wall with ease and rushing out into the snowy night. Slax got on his vox to the rest of the warband, "It's Zharth! He bonded! Please try not to kill him!" Slax ordered pushing his weight around with the warband.

------

It was a long night for Zharth as he limped along the side of the road as black blood dripped onto the concrete below him. He had already snarled and postured himself enough but he was getting tired and he had no idea where he was going just he needed to keep his charge safe.

"Brother." A voice behind him bellowed and he looked over his shoulder at the approaching Black Legionary, "You look like you've seen better days." The unknown Legionary said as he was wary having heard a feral was suddenly in his territory. "Don't you know whose territory you are trespassing on? Which Warband holds these lands?" He approached with a click of his tongue until the infant started to scream again. Zharth snarled getting aggressive again but the other held up his hand. "Come with me brother my charge will know what to do."

Zharth followed the other coming to a home as some woman came out and she looked to Zharth concerned till his charge was pointed at and she rushed over and Zharth's instinct was to grab his bolter but the unknown Legionary stopped him. "My charge is a human medic. Your charge looks unhealthy and must be cold... tiny ones do not survive long... you don't want to lose your charge?"

Zharth was in such a daze as he shook his head and turned over his charge to the woman. Zharth was in such a daze he didn't notice how he was being guided after his charge by two apothecaries and the warlord was prying information from the dazed brother.

Zharth lifted his head, "My battle brother Slax... do not kill him."

"Hmmm?" The warlord tilted his head, "What makes you-"

"Do not play a Slannshi's game with me." Zharth hissed as his black and bronze armor was taken off of him.

The Warlord sighed, "Fine I shall retrieve your brother for you. Rest brother and pray to the dark gods your charge survives the coming days. The Apothecaries will take care of you."

[dustedmagazine]

Feeling Figures — Migration Magic (Perenniel/K)

Feeling Figures channel joy and angst through fuzzy, noise-bent pop tunes. Mixed gender energies bubble from jittery sweet songs, with founders Zakary Slax and Kay Moon alternating on vocals, his sardonic and half-tuned, hers gently melodic; together, in harmonies, the sound is like burnt rock candy, sugary and bitter and sharp at once. And it’s not just the tunes that flitter from hard to ingratiating. Flayed guitar anarchy flares in the interstices of these songs, while the drums gallop manically in double time. There’s certainly a thread of NZ lo-fi running through these cuts—especially track #3 “Don’t Ever Let Me Know”—but also the naïve knowing-ness of K’s historic roster, Beat Happening, especially.

The band is a four-piece hatched in New Brunswick but now based out of Montreal. The line-up includes Slax and Moon plus Thomas Molander and Joe Chamandy. A self-titled EP launched the band in 2021, and this live-recorded full-length is the sole follow-up to date. It bristles with aggression, soothes with melody and looks right down into the swirling void, all with a beat you can jump up and down to.

“Movement” is the album’s clear high point, with its thwacking one-two beat, its slurred, slacker verse, and its “kick it out” bouts of antic punk frenzy. The furor dies down periodically for the Figs’ most anthemic chorus, “Hang on tight/to paradise” sing the band’s two principals in harmonies as sloppy as a drunken kiss, yet the hook is indelible.

“Pour Un Instant” is nearly as good, a spiked sugar rush of Francophone garage punk that clatters frantically but also floats free. Strung-out, sleepy-eyed “Across the Line” hits home, too, with its jangling, ringing, wide horizon guitar clamor reminiscent of the Feelies, its dream fuzzed vocals like the Softies.

It’s not easy to write songs that sound like they’re falling out of bed, but that stick and sting and stay with you. Falling Figures takes careless licks and offhand lines and makes them memorable. Good stuff.

Jennifer Kelly

[littlelewdmable]

My Best Friend's A Monkey Faunus: Sun's Team Name

S/W, Y/X, I/A, and L/R for Sun's team.

[linuxiarzepl]

Slax 15.0.2

Została wydana nowa wersja dystrybucji Linux Slax 15.0.2 & 12.1.0 https://linuxiarze.pl/slax-15-0-2/

[archiveosorg]

Slax-LFI

Slax-LFI – a Slax based live Linux distribution which provides support for French locale out of the box https://archiveos.org/slax-lfi/

[strangechildproductions]

some Karma Doodles cuz I dunno, I'm out of power and have nothing better to do right now.

For some context Karma can shapeshift. But nothing crazy as he doesn't fully know the extent of his own abilities, he can change his attire but it always maintains the same color pallet ( because technically not actually clothes they are his skin) He can grow ( But alone to a certain point, like twice his normal size.) But he can get as small as he wants so he does that more often.

I'm undecided on who can and Can't see Karma, I like the idea of it just being Damian who can see him due to their lore but that does limit how much interactions Karma can have and sort of kicks him to the backseat as a character.... I'll figure it out

Edit; zoom in on my favorite part

[millasboutique]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Kuhl Slax Utility Pants Straight Outdoors Gray 38x30 Men's.