#so i needed to make a bone meal farm

[moths-in-a-coat]

idk i'm kinda fucking with both the pale oak and the cherry together. like the white with pink accents are growing on me. this "draft" staircase i made has a lot of unstripped logs because it reminds me of neapolitan ice cream

[hostvicmichaelis]

wait ok im still thinking abt wilde west au. How do all the characters fit into the town??

tysm for asking bc i have THOUGHTS. this will be a hopefully brief crash course, some of them are more fleshed out than others but...

Robby: traveling doc who comes to help out a small town and gets more than he bargains for

Dana: owner and manager of the saloon, one of the pillars of the town. does most of the town's medical stuff by default, a lot of patching up day-to-day injuries and plenty of midwifery too. can treat a concussion with an ice pack and a shot of whiskey bc it's like 1938 who cares

Jack: the only doctor who lives in the town. came back shell shocked from ww1 with an amputation to deal with, too. keeps to himself, has a lot of bad habits thanks to Everything about having PTSD in the 1930s. Robby brings him out of his shell by being a stubborn asshole about it

Heather: town sherriff as she DESERVES. not super sure about Robby at first which leads to some very fun tension. immediately thinks he's hot which unfortunately for Robby makes her even more initially hostile

Frank: owns and operates the local general store. went to college, has a business degree, used to be insufferable about it but more chill now. he's a great husband and slightly overwhelmed dad

bonus - Abby: has to handle a lot of upkeep of the general store while also raising five children. will have a very important arc pretty early in the story because five kids is more than enough, thank you, and she and Dana show Robby that sometimes the less official, more under-the-radar medicine is what the patient needs

McKay: one of Myrna's working girls. first came to town when Harrison was a baby, running from the law after shit went down with her ex. hates men when she's off the clock. fast friends with Dana bc Dana is a girl's girl!!!!

putting the rest under a cut bc this post is getting long rip

Mohan: she's a farmhand but she bounces around between farms. she helps plan fields and markets and everything. when she first came to town people were skeptical but in the Dust Bowl economy someone as bright as her to help with the penny pinching is invaluable

Mel: works at Langdon's store in exchange for room and board. she and Becca live in a small attic apartment but they're close with Frank and Abby and are often invited down for meals. Abby appreciates having Mel for extra hands and Mel appreciates not being the only one there to watch after Becca

Santos: Trinity is the reason Dana and Myrna have beef. she came to Myrna's when she was WAY too young to be doing all that, and she already had plenty of trauma from the path that led her there. naturally Dana just fucking adopted her. Fourth Evans daughter. it takes Robby an insanely long time to learn Trinity is not, in fact, biologically related to Dana (she also works at the Saloon now, one of the few people Abbot tolerates)

Whitaker: his family owns a cattle ranch so that takes up a lot of his life. but he's kind and he's smart and he's gentle so he helps out Dana and Jack with some of the harder injuries-- he has a knack for setting bones or tying slings. when Robby comes to town he struggles between wanting to pursue medicine more or staying loyal to his family when they need him

Javadi: her father is the pastor, and her mother is very influential in town. she's fascinated by some of the crazier things going on but doesn't want to get into trouble. she gets super curious about the medicine and Robby and Abbot's whole Vibe when they show up. Eileen is exploding Robby in her mind bc of this

Perlah & Princess: work with Dana at the saloon. responsible for keeping the town gossip mill flowing-- a crucial job!!

Mateo: farmhand who's friends with everybody. I'll probably let him and Javadi get together bc I'm a sucker for sweet romance

I intend for most of the side characters to make appearances too but this is what i have so far!! came up with a lot of this while writing this post lol. thank you for asking bc i am Insane over this au

[a-twistedheartslonging]

sometimes people will pay mc to clean/cook for them. all are using it as an excuse to get a scent on you

epel appreciates home cooked meals, don't bother paying for ingredients, just use ones from his farm. he'll keep you company prefect

jade and floyd (who has taken to calling you his Cleaner Shrimpy) jade thinks it's cute to see you cook, he would love to see you swap recipes, learn your taste, do add extra mushrooms to his food please. floyd enjoys following you around while you clean and trying to mess things up so you can't leave. he always make jokes about lockin' you in. what do you meeeeaaannnn you have other clients? maybe he should bite you so they learn to stay away :) maybe he should lock you up right here :)

azul? come work for the mostro lounge! clean up the mess after work, only work for him, he'll pay you double just don't go spend time with others. why don't you start with his office and finish up after people leave. is what he would say if he lost all words the moment he gets to close to you.

jack is just helping a friend >:( don't get the wrong idea just hang out in the room when you're done, he does enjoy your cooking, he knows you'll make a great little mate and a great parent too, he does always compliment the chef.

riddle and vil will critique you but ultimately try to get you to stay

malleus follows you around while you clean all of diasomnia. he pays extra just to not clean savanna claw

sebek yells how you should be grateful to work for malleus, silver ears every meal with a smile and always compliments you and how he can tell you worked hard on it, lilia tries to have a cook off with you. you didn't have the heart to roast his cooking.

leona is used to the women hunting, cooking is almost like that, he'll pay you double is you drop the dragon, he'll say come over to clean but you're just a body pillow lol

ruggie uses those big old puppy dog eyes to get to give him a home cooked meal for free ninety nine.

by the end of it rook just pays to watch you go about your business in his space. it's creepy. but he always does write a 20 page thank you letter complimenting your skills, unless he decides to keep you in his nest ofc

trey wants to swap recipes remarking something about "well fed children", deuce is enamored with your cooking and raves about you to his mom, ace pretends not to care but will just throw his laundry at you for you to do, he tried to pay you in a hoodie of his but you refused to accept. carter says he'll make a post promoting your innovative idea but is trying to keep it to himself, he doesn't want some other stinky guy on you >:(

idia is to shy to ask but ortho has needed this for a while

jamil is thrilled when you too can cook together and try each others food, and you give him a break from cleaning after parties? kalon thinks it's a sign you love him that you offered (and his parents are thrilled to have a human work for him) and jamil gets to hang out with the cute little human and take a break? god send

eventually whoever gets the most from you is OBVIOUSLY a status symbol and will be shown off.

anyway sorry if you didn't like this

Oh, I love this, I talked before about Yuu getting a little cleaning and cooking side business going since a lot of guys suck at taking care of themselves, especially the well-off ones that prob had a maid take care of everything.

Jamil and Ruggie both need breaks/some help. Leona and Kalim are working these poor boys to the bone. Ruggie is def hounding you for leftovers.

I can imagine Idia is kind of embarrassed and might clean up or hide a few things before you come over, doesn't want you thinking he's gross. I'm picturing him in his web looking flustered as he pretends to act all focused on the game his playing on his tablet but he's actually just watching you clean and fueling his house waifu/husbando fantasies.

I would def run a hoodie tax for doing laundry.

Rook is another that would hide the things he doesn't want you to see before you come over to clean, not that there's much for you to do. He's very neat and organized but always looks for an excuse to get you into his nest. Probably offers you extra to scent a few things for him.

Cleaning for Leona...you know those cats that lie on the bed when you're trying to change the sheets and nap on the fresh from the drier clothes? He diffidently does that. He totally keeps trying to get you to only work for him and lays on you so you can't leave, threatening to charge him overtime doesn't deter him in the slightest. He also sticks close when you're cooking, the man loves food and wants to be fed by hand by you.

Oh man, Mal, Silver, and Sebek are so grateful when you take care of the cooking. Seb refuses to admit it though. You really need to keep an eye on everything, or else Lilia will sneak something into what you're making.

With the trouble that Ace and Deuce cause you're probably called to their dorm often to clean up some mess they made.

You would definitely get a lot of extra work from the octo trio, if it's not their rooms you're taking care of then it's help with the lounge. The eels are big-time fans of your cooking, but neither will leave you alone when you are trying to clean, and it makes the jobs take a lot longer. Not too bad if you're charging by the hour at least.

[hollow-pocket]

M.erlin hunger kink fic. implied m.erlin/a.rthur.

Contains: accidental meal missing, painful hunger that is eventually sated, both characters being into it in a way they don’t understand

“Arthur,” Merlin whined. “Why can’t we just go back?”

“We haven’t hunted enough for the feast yet,” Arthur replied, eyes scanning the treeline. “And stop complaining, you’re going to scare away all the pray.”

“Could I just stop and cook one of the rabbits?”

Arthur glared at him. “What part of ‘for the feast’ did you not understand?”

Merlin lapsed into sullen silence, and Arthur rolled his eyes and turned back towards the forest.

After a few minutes, a loud, rumbling growl echoed from behind him. He turned to see Merlin clutching at his stomach.

“Stop that!” Arthur said. “The prey will hear you, idiot, and we’ll be out here even longer.”

“It’s not like I can control it!” Merlin protested, jabbing long fingers into his belly. Arthur watched, then hurriedly turned away.

“We’ve barely been out here three hours.”

“You made me get your horse ready while you ate,” Merlin replied. “I didn’t have time for breakfast before you dragged me out here. And riding always makes me hungry.”

Merlin’s stomach rumbled again as if in agreement. Arthur sighed.

“Fine. We’ll set up some traps.”

Merlin accepted this for the compromise it was, and helped Arthur arrange the traps, clutching his belly all the while.

They waited in the cover of the brush with their horses, and Arthur heard Merlin inhale sharply a second before his stomach let out a long, hollow groan.

“We really aren’t going to catch anything like that,” Arthur hissed.

“What do you expect me to do about it?” Merlin demanded. “Either let me go and find something to eat or deal with it!”

“You can’t just leave me in the woods alone, I’m the crown prince,” Arthur said, half unsure why he was saying it. Merlin could probably go forage while Arthur finished with the traps, and that would solve both problems.

Something about this though…

Merlin’s stomach whined again, trailing off into a series of gurgles.

“Come here,” Arthur said before he could think better of it.

“What are you going to do?” Merlin asked warily.

“Get the growls out so you stop scaring all the animals. Honestly, your stomach sounds like a predator.”

Merlin inched forward, and Arthur lifted his thin shirt and pushed his thumbs into the skin under Merlin’s ribs.

He wasn’t as thin as he’d been when he first came to Camelot, several years eating regular meals and not doing the constant work of subsistence farming was finally starting to give him a healthier build. Arthur’s fingers met a layer of softness rather than skin and bone, which pleased him. Merlin was a subject, after all, and all subjects should be taken care of.

Arthur explored the slightly concave area beneath Merlin’s ribs, surprised at how much give there was. Merlin really must be hungry, not that Arthur had needed convincing.

Arthur pressed hard into Merlin’s stomach, gripping his waist with both hands. He felt as the organ under his fingers twisted and shifted to let out a loud growl that he felt reverberating through his palms.

Merlin gave a choked-off groan, and Arthur stared up at him. Hungry, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed.

Arthur yanked his hands back, and in an embarrassingly rough voice said, “right.”

Then he grabbed one of the chords from around his waist, and wrapped it tightly around Merlin’s, just slightly digging into his flesh.

“That should keep it quiet for now,” Arthur said, and went back to looking at the traps, trying to keep all the blood in his body from pounding in his ears and rushing places it wasn’t needed.

Merlin was surprisingly quiet as the last few animals they needed were caught, and he played with the tight chord below his ribs as he helped Arthur tie them securely to the horses.

Arthur heard a small gurgle or two escape from the tight belt, but it worked quite well overall.

When they returned to the Citadel, Arthur dropped off their haul in the kitchens and got a plate of food to take up to his chambers. Then he summoned Merlin.

“I need my belt back,” he said as Merlin burst through the doors, without knocking as usual.

“Oh, right,” Merlin said, fumbling with it.

Arthur sighed and went to help, untying it deftly.

The moment Merlin’s hollow stomach was free from its confines, it let out a groan that Arthur wouldn’t be surprised if people down the hall could hear.

Merlin flushed, and turned to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“To deal with this, ideally!” Merlin said, gesturing at his belly.

Arthur tilted his head towards the plate of food he’d placed on his desk.

Merlin blinked at him, uncomprehending.

“Eat,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes. “It is my fault you missed breakfast.”

Merlin opened his mouth, clearly searching for a clever retort, but his stomach whined like it was begging before he could come up with anything.

Merlin lifted a hand and pressed it to his belly, hunching over slightly.

“Alright,” he said, and began to carefully eat.

Arthur was amazed at his self control. When he came back from patrols or missions hungry, he tended to devour everything in sight to ease the gnawing ache in his stomach.

Merlin savoured the food, even as his stomach rumbled loudly for more.

Arthur puttered around, listening to the sounds, wondering what had gotten into him.

When Merlin was done eating, he sent him off with an order to make sure his good shirt was clean for the feast, an attempt to return to the status quo.

He thought of how Merlin’s belly had felt under his hands, and cursed every god he could think of that this bumbling fool had fallen into Arthur’s life and given him a million questions he couldn’t afford to be asking.

[allsadnshit]

hi! i’m wondering what foods you eat/don’t eat to help with endo? :) i really appreciate the resources u share :) thank you

It's different for everyone so it takes time and I don't really recommend following someone else's diet cause I am of the belief what you stomach well has to do with where your ancestors are from and also physical constitution in Chinese medicine varies more than just like having endo or not! I personally eat a lot of small farm non gmo meat from what's local which is a lot of stuff in PA, local seasonal vegetables (most squash, potato, and leafy greens), bone broth, spices and herbs, drink matcha everyday, and cook strictly in high quality grass fed butter, ghee, or beef tallow! it is expensive and daunting at times but overall I think I save money now that I cook a lot and have a really organized fridge/pantry over just shopping on a whim and trying to make random meals from it. It's a big commitment to make but if you've ever gotten so sick that you lose your mobility and ability to do basic functions, I think it becomes clear it's worth the money in a very health is wealth way.

I personally can't stomach gluten, onion, or garlic (I use scallion instead) but I am not of the opinion any of those things are bad for you! And I'd like to eventually be able to eat them again when my stomach and nervous system has healed. I also do not eat seed oils, which although controversial and really political now - I think comes down to it being a super cheaply made product and has more to do with how its made than what the main ingredients are! That's probably the hardest one to avoid but I do feel different when I am strict about it but it def eliminates most eating out options realistically which I know for most people just doesn't work.

It might be worth it imo to find some quizzes online for what your chinese medicine physical constitution says you need vs looking up "endo diet" and learning more about eating and lifestyle habits that come along with it because I think even if you eat super organic whole foods all the time if you aren't sleeping and resting and working out I think it can only do so much on it's own!

Americanized health sciences do not understand the root cause of endo (and they admit that fully) so I think there's very little information or help to be harvested from people who consider themselves experts on the topic unless they themselves have endo and have found things that have made a huge difference for them - but otherwise I think western perspective on endo and the body is very small and rigid and worth exploring outside of as a good place to start if what's been given as resources to you so far hasn't changed things in a meaningful way for you!

[pinkwhiskerglitter]

Pepper poppers

Chapter 4: chickens and water color

[Shane’s POV]

The luau is usually an unpleasant thing for Shane, joja closes, the saloon closes, and he’s surrounded by the entire town. He finds himself huddled by the buffet table eating random foods and watching Jas. He knows she’s safe and won’t fall into any trouble but there’s a pinch of worry in him with the image of her playing by the dock over the ocean.

Out of the corner of his eye he notices someone walking up to him. He tries to think of something snarky to scare them off but was caught off guard with a beautiful big red pepper by his face. His head went blank and for once at a loss of words.

“what?” he says

“Try one, I need to make sure they’re as good as they look before I put them in the soup and I know out of everyone you’ll be honest.” the farmer smiled.

He just shrugged and bit into the pepper immediately, being met with the spice and richness of the flavor. This was the best pepper he’s ever had. All Shane could muster out was,

“not bad.” which seemed to get the farmer to walk away to add them into the soup. Shane finds himself in a hurry to finish this beautiful work of art of a pepper enjoying every bit of its flavor and for once looking forward to the soup.

By the time the soup was ready everyone was fighting to get the most peppers, but he secretly won the battle and enjoyed his bowl. He usually doesn't think much about the flavors of things and never spends more than 10 minutes on a meal but this time he finds himself slowing down and taking his time with the soup.

The sun begins to fall and Shane holds a sleepy Jas in his arms as he and Marnie walk back to the farm.

“That soup was delicious, those peppers were amazing” Marnie chirped

“Yea. It was pretty good.” Shane says quietly hoping Marnie won’t bring up the subject much further.

“You’ve met the farmer right? Marnie sneaking a glance at him.

Shane only grunts as a yes, a response Marnie is no stranger of.

“I went to visit her a few days ago, I found a cat in the woods and thought she could use a friend. Poor girl working herself to the bone to get that farm into shape. I can’t help but worry.” she rambles, confusing Shane on the whole point of this topic she brought up. “I want you to invite her to have dinner with us tomorrow. You must come too, no Saloon.” Marnie suddenly stared at him.

“Fine.” Shane says weakly and refuses to meet her eyes. Well great. He has to interact with that silly girl and on top of that can’t get a few beers in?

They finally reach the farm and Marnie is unlocking the house. Shane puts Jas to bed and when he closes her door Marnie is already waiting for him on the other side.

“I know you don’t want to be around her, but she needs to be around people.” Marnie took Shane's hand and looked into his eyes, with almost a twinge of sadness and something else, “I think it would do you good to be around people, not shut yourself off. This is a perfect opportunity to create a friendship. I'm sorry, I just worry. I love you.” Marnie lets go of his head and goes to the barn to care for the cows.

Now Shane is left with the weight of her words. It kills him knowing she worries so deeply about him, and burns that he simply doesn't care to get better. Guilt seeping in as he rethinks all the attempts Marnie has made to get him on a road of recovery just for him to ignore it. It’s not that he wouldn’t want to get better and become a better guardian for Jas and a better person for Marnie but he’s been lost for so long he no longer knows who he is without the sadness and addiction. He felt the tears building up inside, his heart racing, and everything felt shaky.

“You’re pathetic…” Shane mutters to himself, dragging to his room only to break down.

Next thing he knows, the sun has risen and his body is aching. At some point during his meltdown he sat on the floor and must have passed out. It was Friday so Shane got dressed into his work uniform and left his room. Marnie was at the sales counter chatting with Lewis before her attention was caught by the blue uniform.

“Shane dear, please don’t forget to ask the farmer for dinner tonight. Text me when you get a yes.” she smiles.

Shane nods and walks outside, deciding to take a longer route to work by going through the farmers' land. On his way to the path he sees Jas playing around. Her eyes lock in with his and she runs up jumping all around his larger figure.

“UNCLE SHANE HIIIII” he smiles and lifts her into a hug. “Where are you off to?”

“Going to invite the Famer for dinner tonight, then heading to work love.” Shane said, putting her down on the ground and continuing walking towards the farm.

“I wanna come” Jas said and bounced along her godfather on their way to the farm. Shane's protective side would direct Jas on where to walk since this section of the farm has yet to be cleared but once they got to the cleared section of the farm his eyes widened. She really has worked herself to the bone. The place looks nothing like it did just a month ago, there’s fields of crops and a small coop with happy chickens. In the corner there she was, tending to whatever it was that she was growing.

The farmer looked up and spotted the two coming towards her and a big goofy smile lit up her face as she waved

“Hey strangers” she yelled over. Jas already ran up to the girl and began yapping up a storm, something Shane couldn’t figure out as the girl was saying since she was out of breath. The farmer seemed to also struggle to understand because while she did just smile and nod the look in her eyes seemed lost.

Shane cleared his throat bringing both girls' attention to him.

“Marnie wants to know if you'd like to have dinner with us tonight. You won’t need to bring anything, that woman cooks enough to feed the entire town.” He says awkwardly trying to avoid too much eye contact.

“Of course! I’d love to.” The farmer smiles, “thank you for the invitation Shane”

The farmer's eyes don’t stray from Shane watching him as he awkwardly looks around the farm.

“Well, I got to go to work, come on Jas we better get you back home” he said mentally kicking himself in the head for letting Jas tag along now, which means he’ll definitely be late for work now.

“NOOO I wanna stay with [farmer]” the girl whines, big crocodile tears build up in her eyes.

“Jas-” Shane was suddenly cut off

“She can stay with me, it's fine, I’ll bring her back for dinner. If that's okay with you that is.” the Farmer interrupted. Standing up to become face to face with Shane.

“Yea, that’s fine. Jas be good, use your manners.” Shane says giving a mental sigh of relief “thanks [farmer]” was the last thing he said before hugging Jas and heading off to work.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------[farmer POV]

“thanks [farmer]” Shane said before hugging Jas and leaving.

This was the first time the farmer has heard Shane call her by her name. For unknown reasons this made her extremely happy. Her attention is now on the little girl bursting with energy.

“Miss Jas would you like to keep me company while I fed my chickens or would you like me to set you up on the TV in my house?”

“CHICKENS!!” Jas squeals, already halfway to the coop.

The farmer giggles and follows her to the coop where she is met with a much calmer Jas carefully petting the chickens, the complete opposite of who she was a few seconds ago.

The farmer cleans the coop and makes small talk with Jas while she carefully picks up eggs and whatnot.

“Did you know, my uncle Shane raises chickens. I help him with them. He says you have to be gentle and loving with them to make them happy.” Jas says stroking the chicken who laid in her lap. The farmer sat down as well enjoying this tender moment and listening to the girl.

“I did not know Shane liked chickens” farmer replied, her heartstrings being pulled at the mental image of such a gruff man being so gentle with such a small creature. “What do you do for fun here Jas? I finished my chores early so we can spend the rest of the day doing whatever it is you like.”

The small girl sat there and pondered for a bit. The farmer could see the moment the light bulb in her head went off and she snapped and turned to the girl, “what would you do for fun in the city?”

The farmer was slightly caught off guard and took a second to think.

“Well, I used to make art, like painting or drawing, for a living and nail sets. When I wasn’t in the office doing boring adult work, I was being an artist.” She said, a little sadness seeping in as she reminisces on the things she used to love doing.

Jas seems to light up at that response. “Could we do that then? Make art!”

The farmer smiles and pulls her and Jas out of the coop and heads into the house. The house isn’t much of a shack anymore, Robin upgraded it a bit so now she has a kitchen and her bed separated from the main part of the house. The farmer looks through her storage bins and finds her old art supplies.

“This here is all of my prized possessions.” The farmer motions towards the box “whatever medium you want, we can do together.”

Jas is amazed by the abundance of options and her eyes basically pop out of her head by everything. She soon picks up a watercolor palette and looks up at the farmer.

“What’s this?” she questions

“Oh! Watercolor, my favorite. Here I’ll set up at the table and show you how to use it.”

The rest of the day was spent with the Farmer teaching Jas different art mediums and being crafty together. Soon enough the sun settled and the clock said 5pm.

“We should start heading over to your house,” the farmer smiles. Before Jas could protest, the Farmer picks up all of Jas's artworks and admires them, “I bet Marnie and Shane would love to see all the lovely pieces you’ve created today.” That comment seemed to motivate Jas to want to go home now.

The farmer picked up Jas’ work and took the girls’ hand as they walked to Marnie’s house.

A/N:

Sorry for the MIA on chapters. I was out of my country but I’m back now

Prefer ao3? Read here

[acti-veg]

how can I respond to "Do you know how expensive is to farm without animal products? A huge part of all of it would need to composting costing so much. It's not just manure: bone meals, blood meals, guano, etc, that help to grow it. Meanwhile the crops don't usually go to the animals, it's mostly forage and very low quality grains that don't benefit us"

"Couple this with the fact there isn't enough fertile land. Only a part of all it can be cropped and the percentage is not enough to sustain +8 billion people.What you want is IM-POS-SI-BLE. Physically, it CAN'T be done. You literally contribute nothing. Calling for better welfare is the way to go." Anyone making specific truth claims like this needs to be able to back them up. Ask them for a source, that would be the first step. Break the argument into premises, and ask for proof for each one. Premise 1: It is more expensive to farm without animal products. Source please. (They won't be able to give you one.) Premise 2: It is mostly forgage and low quality grains that don't benefit us. Source please. This one is sort of true, but 14% of grain fed to animals is fit for human consumption, and this also doesn't include the massive amounts of land devoted to growing crops specifically for animals, such as alfalfa, where that land could be used to grow crops for humans.

Premise 3: There isn't enough fertile land to feed our population if everyone ate plant-based. Source please. (This one is objectively, uncomplicatedly not true.) In this way, you'll see their argument fall apart. It is not up to you to research their claims for them, the burden of proof is on them. So ask them to prove it, which they will either not do, or attempt to do by providing sources that are either completely unreliable, or reliable but don't actually conclude what they are arguing.

[scribeofskyrim]

Turdas, 4th of Sun's Dusk, 4E 201

We got to Ivarstead too late to reach Orphan Rock, so we're staying at the Vilemyr Inn for the night.

Aside from a lot of wild animals on the road and some skeletons, I would count today as a quiet one, but we did see something amazing!

We left Mistwatch, and saw some ruins in the shallow spring in front of it. They looked like an old extension of the fort, so we decided to investigate to see if we could find anything.

All we found were three skeletons laying on stone slabs that got up and tried to kill us.

Still, I got some bone meal, so that's handy.

We kept going across the springs, towards Darkwater Crossing. The weather was still terrible, and I was thankful when the little mining camp came into view. A Stormcloak soldier told us that Anneke was in the mine, so we went in to look for her.

She taught me some techniques for moving about in light armor in exchange for us taking care of the bandit chief on the Winter War. She said she'd be willing to come with us, but I declined. I'm sure she's an able fighter, but taking care of all of us and a dog is hard enough already!

We left the mine and crossed the river to the road so we could make the long trek up the mountain.

Lucky for us, the weather cleared as we crossed the bridge. I wasn't looking forward to the hike in the first place, but not having to deal with a thunderstorm on top of it was a blessing.

The way up the mountain was quiet, aside from a lot of bears, wolves and frostbite spiders. I was able to fill a handful of the soul gems I've been collecting, which is good. Recharging all of our enchanted staves and weapons eats through them!

I've had Soul Trap for a while now, but I always forget to use it, and I keep running out of arrows for my enchanted bow because the others need them more than I do. I've gotten good enough with Conjuration that bound weapons I summon will do Soul Trap automatically, so I've been trying to use my bound bow more.

It's a lot stronger than my Elven bow, too, so I'm thinking I might just… Not carry one. I dunno. Might feel weird to not carry one, but at least I won't run out of arrows.

The only bad thing about the bound bow is that it takes about three times as long to summon it and get an arrow nocked as it does to get my regular bow out. I mean, all bound weapons are like that, but having the extra space for loot is nice!

Eh, I'll think about it.

Anyway, we made our way to Ivarstead, and along the way I noticed a bright glow coming from a farm that we've passed by before.

It's a bit back from the road, so I haven't paid much attention to the place in the past. It's right by where the first assassin attacked me.

The others could see it, too, and as we got closer we could hear a familiar chiming sound coming from the glowing field.

We couldn't believe it! Erandur, for once, was speechless.

The field was full of nirnroot!

I'm nowhere near the alchemist Erandur is, but even I know that nirnroot only grows wild.

At least, I thought I did!

There was an older Dunmer woman tending to a neighboring field full of normal crops, and we went to ask her about the nirnroot.

Poor Septim. He doesn't like the sound of it, and frankly, neither do I. Too shrill for me. He ran back to the path and stayed there while we spoke.

Her name is Avrusa Sarethi, and she owns the farm. She says she's the only person alive who knows how to cultivate nirnroot from seed, and I believe it! She said it was tiring work, essentially running two farms and taking care of her little sister.

She and Erandur chatted a bit, and she said she used to be alchemist. Apparently she'd had a shop in Vivec City before Red Mountain erupted. She might reopen one here in Skyrim, perhaps.

She then leaned on the fence railing and said something in Dunmeri to Erandur.

All right, I've never seen him do this, and I had to pretend to look at the nirnroot field to keep from laughing. His whole… Everything shifted, and I think I got a peek at his old self. His stance changed, his shoulders loosened, and even his expression turned to something that I can only describe as… Well, he looked rakish!

Dru and I usually avoid men like that. They know the game too well and make terrible marks.

Anyway, Avrusa was obviously flirting with him, and while I know he rebuffed her, he did it in such a way that she actually laughed. In fact, after a short conversation, she thanked him (for what, I'd learn later), and went back to work.

We left, and once we got to the main road, the rest of us burst out laughing. Erandur groaned and pulled his hood farther over his face.

Valdimar asked if he could explain, and Erandur told him to go ahead. He said that she'd made a comment about how opening a shop would be easier if she could find another alchemist to "partner up" with.

Erandur had politely refused, citing his dedication to Mara and how someone like him would only hold "a woman of her astounding talents" back. We laughed and Valdimar continued, saying that while she doubted that, Erandur was quick to point out that she was doing what everyone thought was impossible. The "impossible" isn't easy, she said, and asked him if he could help her out.

Avrusa said that jazbay grapes are essential to growing nirnroot (good to know) and asked for twenty. She simply doesn't have the time or the energy to go looking for them.

Or course he agreed, and that's what she thanked him for.

By this time Ivarstead came into view, and we headed straight for the mill to hand Temba her bear pelts. She was glad to have them, and gave me an enchanted axe for my troubles. I can't buy any lumber from her yet, but maybe once she's done grumbling about the bears I'll be able to.

I admit, as we walked here, I did my best to ignore the signposts. I know Septim sensed something was up. He fell into step beside me, and the others I know were trying to distract me from them.

Anyway, we got rooms here for the night and had dinner. I ordered some drinks from Wilhelm after we ate, and while he poured we got to talking. He was thankful we took care of their "ghost" problem, and said that since we were good at solving problems, we might be interested in a bounty letter he had from the jarl. Some bandits were causing trouble, and the Jarl of Riften was offering a reward to whoever took them out.

I made a note of the location, and thanked him for the information before I carried our drinks back to our table. Once we were settled with our drinks we couldn't help but tease Erandur about his behavior earlier, and he said he couldn't help it! When someone's clearly flirting with him, he does it back. It's practically a reflex.

Valdimar raised an eyebrow at this over his food, and did his Thinking Face. Lydia and I traded our "we'll gossip about this later" looks.

That's exactly what we did after drinks! We'd both seen Erandur pour on the charm when Avrusa started coming on to him. He's clearly very skilled at it, and we couldn't help but wonder if they taught him that in the Cult, too? It would come in handy, and no doubt those skills are well-suited to crime.

I should know!

He also didn't look flustered at all. Not even a tiny bit! So why does he get flustered when Valdimar does it? If he doesn't think Valdimar's flirting with him (he said he'd do it back otherwise) then what does he think? And what was with that face Valdimar made earlier? Is he reconsidering some tactics or something?

ARGH this is confusing!

Anyway, we agreed to keep a close watch on the both of them to see if we could figure anything out. Lydia promised to pry whatever information she could get out of Valdimar.

Part of me thinks I shouldn't care so much about this, and that it's just a distraction, but I need it. When I start thinking too hard about the road ahead, and the war, and having to go up the 7000 steps to talk to the Greybeards, I feel like crawling under the blankets and not coming out.

Or walking up to the bar and drinking Orcish Forgewater until I forget.

Those work great for breakups and jobs that go bust, but not having to deal with Destiny.

Oh, well. Right now my Destiny is bed. Tomorrow we get Nettlebane from the hagravens, then go from there.

---

Back | Next

[iantimony]

a tired tuesday

going back down to FL to clean out my grandma's apartment tomorrow. incidentally I am also about to get my period. this whole 6 months of dealing with grandma shit every time has lined up with my period so I would like to kermit actually

listening:

I am slooooowly getting my spotify playlists off of spotify. here is my melancholy playlist that I have the files for now

reading:

more Evil As Humans

this substack from some people who I went to high school with

I have officially abandoned "The Creative Act: A Way of Being" by Rick Rubin after about 40 pages. I am bored by it. too much Jung, very repetitive, everything I have read feels like common sense to Me so I am probably not the target audience.

watching:

idk some youtube i guess

playing:

turbo fallow

making:

way more fallow than it should be. I need to paint that kituba…………..

oh I finished a new neocities page! my bookshelf! it's very bare-bones, will probably slowly link notes/goodreads reviews to everything, maybe reformat somehow, but at least I have a basic List Of Hard Copies That I Own! I still have to add the ones I have in my apartment, these are the ones in 'storage' in my childhood home :-)

eating:

made some old standby recipes for the fam and friends! first was 'pork cutlets escorial', a recipe from ? some random cookbook of my roommate's mom I think? it's very good but a little time consuming because it does involve making a brown sauce, however it makes a Lot of brown sauce and that can be frozen and used later as well so!

the brown sauce: make a roux with 1/2c butter and 8 tbsp flour. brown that bad boy. add 4c of beef broth, 1c dry white wine, 1 sliced carrot, 1 medium onion coarsely cut, 1 white part of leek quartered, 1 clove garlic, 2tbsp tomato puree, 1/2tsp dried thyme, 1 large bay leaf. I personally blended all the veg together with a little of the broth to make it smooth but follow ur heart. I also added like 2-3 extra cloves garlic and subbed a shallot+scallions for the leek, and 1tbsp tomato paste for the pureed tomatoes. and technically chicken broth. whatever. boyf brownwed the veg but idk if that's truly necessary, then mix with the roux, cook down a bit, and add salt and 1/2c Madeira (or in my case a random dry red) wine to taste. this makes a whole quart of brown sauce!

for da pork: 4 boneless pork cutlets, pat dry and smear both sides with Dijon mustard and pepper. saute until brown in 2tbsp of butter until mostly cooked, put pork on a plate, and to the pan drippings add 1tbsp flour, stir until mixed, 1c white wine, bring to boil (pan sauce!), stir consistently. then add 1/2c cream (I used normal milk lol), sliced olives (as many as your heart desires), and 3tbsp brown sauce (we used way more than 3. follow your heart). put pork back in for a few minutes til all warm thru. that's a meal baby. serve over rice or potatoes or couscous or starch of your choice. yes we made all that brown sauce for Three Tablespoons.

second thing I made was the one pot chicken meatballs with greens because there was chard for sale at the farm stand near my boyfriend's place! I used beef instead of chicken I think it tastes better that way.

[thenovelartist]

Cowboys and Angels - Honkai: Star Rail fanfiction

Sun streamed through the window, illuminating the bare bones bedroom in the run-down cabin. Boothill stirred, scrunching his eyes against the morning light.

He rolled over, away from the light. Wasn’t often that he slept in until the sun got to this point, but for days now, he’d not been feeling right. He couldn’t put his finger on what was amiss, which irritated him to no end.

“Daddy, daddy!” A tornado on two legs came tearing into his room, leaping up onto the hard mattress and well-worn blanket he had draped overtop of him. “You’re so late!”

“Sorry, Pumpkin.” He rubbed a hand down his face, the rough calluses on his fingertips scratching his eyelids. “Musta… had a weird dream. Don’t feel like a slept a wink.”

“You can sleep in. I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Nuh-uh.” That right there was one of those sentences that could throw him up outta bed faster than a twister could. “I know what the kitchen looks like after you’ve had your hand at the first meal of the day.”

“Breakfast in bed!” his daughter screamed, dodging his attempts to grab her as she scurried out of the bedroom.

“Son of a biscuit,” he grumbled, smile pulling at his lips no matter how hard he fought to tamp it down. Ever since he picked that scrawny, screamin’ little thing up out of the woods, he’d spent the years wrangling in his foul mouth. A six-year-old didn’t need to be dropping language the way he did just yet.

He dared spare a second to throw the bed back into a state of semi-order before grabbing a pair of pants hanging over the lone chair in his room. He snatched a clean shirt from the closet, sliding it on and buttoning it up as he made his way to the kitchen.

His daughter was already there, sliding the cast-iron skillet onto the stove. A bent wire basket full of fresh eggs sat on the counter. Hot damn, had the little squirt managed to get morning chores done while he’d slept in?

He ought to make up for that.

“What we having with the eggs?” he asked her. “Think we still got sausage in the cellar.”

“It’s brown.”

“Bad brown?”

“Bad brown. And it smelled kinda funny.”

He grimaced. Looks like they got to that too late. He hated wasting food. “Bacon?”

“I didn’t see any.”

“Really? I doubt that.”

“Really!”

“Betcha yer morning biscuit that there’s bacon down there.”

“I’m tellin’ ya, there’s not!”

“So if I go check, I’m not gonna find nothin’?”

“Nope.”

“Yer on.” He ruffled her hair, getting a giggle out of her before heading to the cellar entrance.

Five minutes later, he came up, slapping a wrapped pack of bacon on the counter. His daughter’s eyes blew wider than saucers.

Smirking, he reached for leftover biscuits on the counter. “Now,” he said, unwrapping the towel to reveal three biscuits. “Which one is—”

“Noooo!” she cried, reaching for the biscuits. “You can’t have mine!”

He lifted them out of reach before she could snatch one. “You bet yer morning biscuit. Mine now, Lil’ Bugger.”

“I didn’t see the bacon! I swear!”

Chuckling, Boothill put the biscuits back on the counter. Immediately, his daughter snatched one, cradling it to her chest.

“Put that back down ‘fore it crumbles all over the floor," he told her. "I ain’t gonna steal it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He took one of the two remaining biscuits, twisting it in half before shoving one of the disks into his daughter’s mouth. “I ain’t gonna snatch it. This time.”

With her mouth holding her half of the extra biscuit, she couldn’t protest. Instead, she tentatively set the biscuit cradled protectively against her chest down on the counter. It allowed her to take the round out of her mouth. “Fine. But you cook the bacon. You make it better.”

AKA, he didn’t burn it black, smokin’ up the damn kitchen in the process. “Will do.”

~~~

After breakfast, they headed out to the barn, ready to saddle up the horses and check the farm for the day. But man, food was sitting like a rock in his gut. Had been for days now. Hadn’t a mother-truckin’ clue what was going on. It wasn’t like he was eating anything out of the ordinary. It was more like… his whole body felt funny. Something just wasn’t sitting right in his bones.

Well, as long as he could get his chores done for the day, that’s all that mattered. He’d think on the strangeness of it all later.

His daughter bounced ahead, her twin braids swinging below her wide-brimmed hat. She wasn’t old enough for a proper Stetson yet. When he was just a pip squeak, the rule was you had to finish growing before you earned that.

He slowly meandered toward the pasture, giving his daughter enough time to snatch the halters and lead ropes from the tack room. Quick as a jackrabbit, she bounded back, halter hanging off each shoulder. He took the black halter, leaving her with the older red one that was so worn it was more of a pink.

“Wanna bet who’s gonna catch their horse first?” Boothill challenged.

“First one back to the barn wins.”

“Yer on.”

He gave her a head start, allowing her to run toward where the horses were on the opposite side of the pasture. He watched as she slowed down to a walk, properly approaching an old chestnut mare from the side.

He grinned. He’d raised her well.

The little girl swung the end of the lead rope over the horse's neck, “catching” the horse. Then she undid the knot on the side of the halter, offering it to the horse. Not all horses would be so willing to put their nose inside, allowing the pipsqueak to properly secure the halter over its head, but the good ol’ timers did. Horses like that were worth their weight in gold.

Seeing as she finished securing her horse, Boothill decided to whistle at his own.

A dark bay picked up its head, ears pitched forward on full alert.

Boothill whistled again. In a blink, the horse began cantering across the pasture. The closer it got, it slowed to a haughty trot, tail raised and fluttering with each prancing step.

“Atta boy.” Boothill reached out, patting the horse on the neck. The horse snorted, leaning into Boothill in an attempt to knock him around a bit, but he didn’t budge. Moving your feet first might as well have been announcing your loss to a horse. Hence, he pushed the horse’s face away, warning him to behave.

Boothill spared a glance across the pasture, noticing his daughter had crawled up on top of the wooden fence post. She threw her arms out to the side, as though protesting his cheat. Then, she flipped a hand in the air. She might have been a bit too far for him to see the gesture clearly, but he’d assume a certain finger was raised up at him.

Hot damn, that was why he put so much effort into trying to temper his language. Soaked up everything like a sponge, the lil' lass did. One slip on his part, and she’d be mirroring that for weeks afterwards. Last thing he needed was her learning how to drop a line of curses and throw the middle finger just as quick.

He slid the halter over his horse’s nose, tying it off behind the ears. As he led the horse over to the gate, swinging it open, he could hear the gallop of horse hooves. He turned just in time to see a certain chestnut mare tearing through the pasture, tiny cowgirl bouncing on its bare back. “Hold the gate!” she shouted.

“Whoa!” He backed out of the way real quick as the horse bolted out of the pasture and headed to the barn. “Slow it!” he shouted at the retreating form. He closed the gate behind him, turning just in time to see her stop the horse right in front of the hitch post.

She didn’t slide off, instead flipping around on the horse so she was sitting backwards. “First one back to the barn!” she shouted, shit-eating grin plastered 'cross her small face. “I win!”

That little shit.

He wanted to be mad. Too bad he couldn’t.

He especially couldn’t considering she finally figured out how to tie the lead rope into reins properly. Apparently, all it took for her to get that knot right was a little competition. Good on her. She was on her way to becoming a true cowgirl yet.

~~~

Horses all tacked up, they began their morning rounds. Boothill knew they’d have to fix that dadgum fence on the north end. Then the cows would have to get moved into that pasture from the other. Then they'd have to check those fences, part of which would have to be mended because heaven only knew the baling twine would only hold another couple days. Cows the loved testing that part of the fence, and Boothill had no inclination to go wrangling a loose cow.

Or loose herd.

Piece by piece, they started fixing the broken sections of barbed wire as well as tightening up the loose segments. This was such old hat by now he could probably finish it in his sleep. Yet, he was hit with this strange wave of déjà vu. Like he wasn’t just fixing a fence, but that he’d fixed this exact portion of fence before. In some other life.

Just like he felt this morning, something wasn’t right. Could feel it down in his bones same way Pa felt a storm abrewin’. He just wished he could put his finger on it…

As they fixed yet another section of fence, his daughter started humming. Normally, he’d be able to peg the song in ten seconds or less seeing as he’d taught her most of the things she knew, but he had a hard time with this one. Which was strange. He swore he knew the melody, almost could hear the lyrics in his head, yet couldn’t name the artist or even the song.

“Alright, I give up,” he commented. “Whatcha singin', Singing Queen?”

That name caused him to freeze. That wasn’t one of his daughter’s nicknames. That was his nickname for—

“Miss Robin.”

Exactly.

He blinked a few times, this world seeming to tilt on its axis around him. He almost tripped over his own blasted boots and fell into the barbed wire. A flash of feathers and golden halos shot through his mind before it danced just out of reach.

He ran a gloved hand down his face, pressing hard as though to scrub the wooziness away. He didn’t like that one bit.

~~~

That evening, after all the hard work was done, they headed back to the barn.

“Pumpkin,” Boothill began, unlatching the cinch and pulling off the saddle. “Strike you a deal?”

“What kinda deal?” Even though she was short, that didn’t stop her from pulling up a bucket to help her reach her own cinch. Young she may be, she could saddle a horse just as well as any other cowboy he knew.

“You wanna brush down the horses, and I get dinner started?”

“We ain’t headin’ to Pawpaw’s?”

“Not tonight.”

She whined as she pulled the saddle off the horse, careful not to lose balance on the bucket under the weight. “Okay.”

“I’ll make steak.”

“Ohh! Okay.”

With a chuckle, Boothill took the bridle from where he’d laid it over the hitch post, hanging it over his shoulder before taking all the tack back into the barn. He hung the saddle on the rack, then set the saddle pad aside. Before hanging the bridle up, he wiped the bit clean.

His daughter copied his actions, her movements well practiced for someone of her age. She then grabbed the bucket of grooming tools before marching back to the horses, the brushes rattling in the bucket with each step.

Seeing as it was shaping up to be a nice evening—that cool breeze blowing in and cutting the heat of the day was a welcome friend—Boothill decided on a fire outside rather than in the house. The fire pit wasn’t that far from the hitch post, meaning he could watch his daughter effortlessly curry out the saddle marks from the horses’ backs while telling them what good horsies they were.

The scene brought a smile to his lips.

By the time the fire was rip-roaring and the prepared food was just waiting to be cooked, his daughter had finished brushing the horses. She untied the horses’ lead ropes from the hitch post and led them back to the pasture together.

Boothill settled a couple cast-iron pots in the fire, one without a lid to cook the beans, another with a lid for the cornbread. Then in a pan, he threw in a scoop of lard, ready to fry up that last bit of summer squash that had practically taken over Ma’s garden. Lastly, he lowered the grate over the fire to cook the steaks, listening to them sizzle as he dropped them on.

It was a supper like any other, filling after a hard day’s work. Yet, something struck him as odd about this one. Like it was a little extra special?

He didn’t like whatever haunting feeling was hangin’ round. Didn’t like it one bit.

After dropping the halters back into the barn, his daughter came scampering back. “Don’t burn ‘um like last time.”

“Hey!” Boothill swung out with the grilling tongs, pretending that he was gonna smack her little sassy derriere but purposefully missing. She still squealed and skipped out of the way.

It wasn’t long before dinner was finished cooking. His little girl had brought out two cups of water as well as two plates and silverware to set on the nearby picnic table that had seen better days. Instead of setting the plates up so they’d sit across from each other, she sat them side by side, facing the sunset.

“That’s a real purdy view right there,” Boothill commented, taking a seat on the warped bench.

His daughter eagerly nodded her agreement. “Real purdy. Like a painting.”

It was like a painting. So much so it almost didn’t feel real.

Because it’s not.

There it was again. That creeping feeling. But today… today was the final straw, and he knew it. Dinner tonight was extra special… because it would be their last. Don’t ask him how he knew that. He just did.

“Daddy, who’s that?”

Boothill looked up just in time to see a figure marching toward them. Her white dress captured every color of the painted sky, and her gold halo sparkled in the warm evening glow.

He stood, his heart skipping a beat in a chest he shouldn’t have. Flesh and blood and bone. A heart that thrummed and felt and hurt. This body wasn’t something that clinked when he tapped on it. Something that ran on gears and wire. Something that could be forged into a weapon akin to the six-shooter that hung on his hip.

“She looks like an angel,” his daughter continued.

Boothill cleared his throat, hoping to clear his mind along with it. “That’s ‘cause she is.”

“Really? A real angel?”

He looked down at his daughter, all grins and glittering eyes as she looked up at him. His mind scrambled to capture this moment in perfect clarity. “Yeah, darlin’. A real, honest-to-goodness angel. Stay put, and behave.”

“Yes, sir.”

Giving his daughter a pat on the head, Boothill started marching toward the angel before him, drawn to her as though captured by a siren’s song. Caught in a beautiful melody before he drowned.

As they closed the distance, Robin’s smile widened. “Well, in terms of dreams… this certainly is a beautiful one.”

A dream, she called it. A dream. Something that lasted but a moment before waking up to cold, unforgiving reality. “It’s my life. No dream.”

Her smile turned sad. Pitying. “Mister Boothi—”

“None of that 'Mister' stuff, Singin’ Queen.”

“Then… Boothill.” Her voice was soft, sweet, gentle. So much so it was impossible to imagine that voice doing any damage. “You are no fool, and I will not treat you as one. Which is why I will only say… you know better than to get lost in a dream, don’t you?”

He did. Damn it, he did. He wished he didn’t. Wished things were different, but that was like wishin’ on a shooting star that disappeared in the blink of an eye. “I ain’t ready for the mornin’,” he admitted, his voice cracking at the end.

She reached out, taking hold of his hands. His were so big compared to hers, so dirty compared to her pristine gloves. He’d wager his hands were as smooth as the silk that covered them, a stark contrast to the calluses on his own.

A stark contrast to his cold, metal replacements.

“If I could pause time,” she said, stepping forward to close the distance between them. “I would. Yet, it must march on. As must we.”

He looked away, unable to stand staring at this angel of truth anymore. He knew she was right. Problem was that knowing the truth didn’t make accepting it any easier. He took a heavy breath, one that rattled his chest uncomfortably, before turning to face Robin again. “Then before that dadgum sun rises… come meet my little girl? Even if it’s only a dream, I can hope for more than one person in this world to remember her.”

Robin’s expression was bittersweet as she gave his hands a squeeze. “I’d be happy to.”

Taking one of her hands, he placed it in the crook of his elbow.

“What a gentleman,” Robin remarked, allowing him to lead her back to the weathered cabin that he was almost embarrassed to show this high-bred, fancy lady.

“I’d like to think I was raised right.” In some areas, anyway. Besides, he knew his little girl would look to him for how a man should treat her. He was determined to set the right example here. For her sake.

“Your homeland is lovely.”

“It’s no Penacony,” he said. “But I refuse to think there’s a prettier view anywhere in the cosmos.”

“I think the fact it’s not Penacony adds to that charm. It feels like… like you can breathe here.”

“That’s what I think, too. I won’t say there’s no beauty in cities, but it ain’t hold a candle to this.”

They were closing in on the cabin when his daughter came to greet them. “Who’s that, Daddy?” she asked. “You didn’t pull a gun on them.”

He choked, coughing to cover the embarrassment that hit harder than a cow kick. Did he greet that many people 'round these parts with a pistol to the face?

Nah, he definitely did.

“W-well,” he stuttered out, “You don’t pull them on nice ladies.”

His daughter tilted her head in confusion. “What about Aunty?”

“Aunty ain’t that nice a lady.”

“She’s meaner than a rattlesnake,” his daughter agreed, dead serious.

She wasn’t wrong.

He cleared his throat. “This very nice lady,” he introduced, “is Miss Robin.”

She gasped, her eyes sparkling. “The singer?”

“The very one.”

“Hi! I like your music,” his daughter excitedly greeted, bouncing on her toes. “You look like an angel.”

Robin giggled, bending down slightly. “Thank you. You look lovely yourself.”

“Are you snoggin’ Daddy?”

Again, Boothill choked. “Pumpkin, where’d you learn that?” he asked, voice maybe a little too loud.

“Aunty.”

“Mother fu... case and point,” he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. He quickly corrected, “No. A lady like this… well, she’s a little too nice for Daddy.”

Robin hummed in quiet disapproval. Was it just him, or did she lean against this side a bit?

He ignored that for now. This was, after all, just his dream. Nothing more.

“Oh.” His daughter’s gaze fell, and she kicked at the dirt in disappointment. “I thought I was gonna have a mom.”

If he could give her one, he would. He’d love to have a lady ‘round the house. A partner to share this life with. To sit on a porch swing and watch the sunset pretty as this with, just like Pa and Ma. But a wish like that was nothing more than a dream.

... like like what he was trapped in now.

Well, hell. If he was trapped in a dream, then why in tarnation couldn’t he press his luck? “Wooin’ a lady proper-like takes time, Pumpkin. It would mean I’d have to give her my hat.” He turned down a wink at Robin. “But I ain’t certain a lady with a halo fit for the aeons would accept it.”

Her eyes widened, those long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings as she blinked at him. But then that surprise gave way to mirth, those pretty purple eyes of hers dazzling extra bright. “Why, that sounds like quite the honor.”

“Then…” Boothill took his hat off, sliding it carefully on Robin's head and getting a blush from her in the process. “A man’s bound by cowboy law to take care of anything under that hat.”

“So!” his daughter began, “Does that mean she’s my mom now?”

He shook his head, one that might as well be filled with cotton balls the way it was fuzzy and warm. “Nah. It’s just one of the steps.”

“How many steps are there?” she asked, deflating in childish exasperation.

“It’s a complicated answer,” Robin answered for him. “You’ll learn one day when you’re older.”

“Everyone says that,” his daughter grumbled, crossing her arms. “I wanna get older now.”

“Whoa, slow down, kiddo,” Boothilll said, getting down on one knee to be at eye level with her. “Bein’ an adult ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Enjoy growing up.”

“You always say that, too.”

“I know, but… I mean it. Because one day—” His voice cracked, his forced grin faltering. Damn, this human heart thing was more painful than he remembered. Might as well have been lassoed and hogtied, face flat in the dirt with how hard it was to breathe. “One day, I’m gonna blink, and you’re not…” Not gonna be there. “Not gonna be my little partner anymore.”

She frowned, brow pinched in confusion. “I’ll always be your little partner.”

He really didn’t know what to say to that. “Y-yeah, kiddo… Always and forever.”

She tilted her head, her furrow deepening. “Is something wrong?”

Everything. Everything was wrong in this all too fragile dream. Forget a bullet shattering it, he was gonna drop a casing and it would be in so many little pieces he'd not be able to so much as put two back together. And he was gonna be broken right along with it. “I gotta go away for a little bit. That’s why Miss Robin is here. She…” he swallowed, giving him time to concoct a lie. “She was looking for a superhero to help her.”

His daughter’s eyes lit up. “You have to help her.”

“I know. But that means you’re gonna have to be in charge. Can ya do that?”

“I know how to do all the morning chores,” she assured with all the overconfidence that could possibly fit inside her tiny body. “And how to fix a fence real good. Pawpaw says I learned from the best.”

“Speakin’ of… can you go stay with them for a bit? Take the horses.”

“I will. But I can stay here tonight?”

“Yeah, ride out in the morning. Don't need you runnin' into a coyote or nuthin."

"Or rustlers."

"Or rustlers," he agreed, a mirthless chuckle escaping him. "Don’t burn the eggs. You know how hard it is to clear smoke from the kitchen.”

“I know how to make eggs.”

“I know you do. You know what to do when something unwelcome comes 'round?”

She nodded, lips pursed in all seriousness. “There’s a pistol under your pillow and ammo under the floor. You never point the barrel at something you don’t want to shoot, and never put your finger on the trigger until you want something dead.”

He affectionately smacked the brim of her hat down, getting a squeak out of her when it covered her eyes. “That’s right,” he said.

“See!” she said, tilting her hat back up, standing a little taller as she did. “I know how to be all growned up.”

There was nothing more he wanted than to see that happen. Part of him wished this dream would last long enough to let him see it. Too bad it was about to end, right along with that sunset. “Just don’t grow up too much while I’m gone, okay? I gotta go now.”

“Wait!” She took off her hat, dropping it so she could slide out of her red poncho. She then draped it over his shoulders. “Superheroes need a cape.”

Tears sprang into his eyes. “Yeah. Guess they do, don’t they?” He then took her face in his hands, tilting her head forward so he could press a kiss to the top of her head. “Love you, kid.”

“Love you, too, Daddy. You gotta come back soon, okay?”

“Trust me, I’ll come back soon as I finish this mission.” Finally, something that wasn't a lie. Because he didn't see himself lastin' beyond his mission of revenge. Of seeking his own justice for the little cowgirl before him now.

She threw her arms around him one last time. “Best daddy ever.”

He held her a little extra tight. He knew Robin was waiting, but he didn’t let up easy. This was the farewell he never got. Even if it was only a dream, he thought he had the right to be a little delusional.

“Dad," his little girl grunted out, "you’re squishin’ me!”

“I git the right!”

She groaned dramatically as she tried to wriggle out of his arms.

Eventually, his laugh at her antics weakened his hold to the point he had to let her go.

“I can breathe!” she cried, dramatically clutching her neck.

That got a giggle out of Robin behind him.

Upon remembering they had an audience, his daughter shaped up her attitude right quick. “Don’t worry, Miss Robin. Daddy will take real good care of you. Ain’t nuthin’ gonna happen that he can’t fix.”

“That’s exactly why I came to your dad in the first place,” Robin assured, her expression soft and voice sincere. “You should be very proud of him.”

“I am!”

Boothill bit his cheek, hoping the waterworks wouldn’t start. Instead, he picked the hat up off the ground, brushing it off before dropping it on her head.

She adjusted it before turning one last smile up at him. “Good luck!”

“Thanks, kiddo. Tell the others I’m sorry I’ll be gone for a while, okay?”

“I promise.”

“Tell them I love them, too.”

“Nah, you can say that when you get back.”

He supposed he could. He then turned his attention to Robin. “We should head out.”

“We should,” she agreed. She turned a bright, actress smile back on his daughter. “But it was lovely meeting you.”

“You, too, Miss Robin. Take care of daddy! He sometimes burns the steak.”

He lightly smacked her on the shoulder. “Hey!”

Robin giggled. “I’m afraid I’m not the best in the kitchen, either. But between the two of us, I think we’ll be okay.”

Before Boothill could decide to rebel against waking up, to cave to the urge to root himself to this dream, he took Robin’s hand in his before leading her away. Yet, the further they walked away from the house, the less it was him leading her and more her guiding him off into that fading sunset.

“Bye bye!” his daughter yelled, now standing on the edge of the table bench and waving.

He waved back, watching as she hopped down and scrambled inside, plate in each hand.

“You can’t go back,” Robin very quietly coaxed. “You know that.”

“I do…” He sucked in a breath. “I just don’t wanna let her go.”

She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “We never let go of our loved ones. They break off a piece of our hearts to take, but in return, they give us a part of theirs to fill the hole. Even when we’re apart, we carry that piece of them to live with us. Until we see them again.”

Until they saw each other again, huh? Under a painted sky, just like this, blurring like watercolor in the rain.

Or bitter tears.

“Boot—”

Thankful she was still in his hat, he tipped the brim down over her eyes, ashamed for her to see him in this state. With a strangled sob he couldn’t hold back, the tears came loose on their own. A sensation he hadn’t experienced in the years since his body had turned from flesh to metal.

Shit, if this world was gonna blur away under his own tears, forcing him back into his cold reality, then he’d let it. Under his breath, he finally let the word slip that his damn voice synthesizer never allowed.

“Fuck.”

~~~

Once everything got put to rights and he’d shoved a boot so far up Skott’s ass it was gonna require surgery to retrieve it—he’d send Skott the bill for a new set of boots; Aventurine would be very helpful in ensuring he got reimbursed—Boothill ordered one too many drinks at the dreary bar in Dreamflux Reef. Despite sipping from all, he couldn’t taste any of them. He already couldn’t taste anything, but he couldn’t even feel the burn of his system turning the alcohol into fuel. It was like the world wasn’t even there.

Hell, he was so out of it that he startled when someone slipped onto the barstool next to his. Hot damn, he needed to pull himself together. No one got the jump on him and got away with it. Too bad the pretty little thing that had slid into that seat was one Boothill couldn’t chastise. “Why, if it ain’t Singin’ Queen. Pleasure ta see ya one last time before I ride off into the sunset.”

While she gave him a smile, it wasn’t the one he’d hoped for. Wasn’t even an actress’ smile: perfect in every possible way. Instead, the corners of her mouth didn’t pull all that high, and her brow was pinched. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I should be askin’ you that. Wasn’t like you had an easy time in that mess, especially considering your position in Penacony.”

“I’ll be fine. As the head of the family, managing events such as this is part of the territory. So is conversing with the other heads about how best to handle certain… problematic persons. However, I wasn’t the one who was forced to face the past.”

“Like I said,” he brushed off, forcing a grin he really didn’t feel, “t'was a long-related reunion.”

“That might be… but it also was a second parting.”

That grin of his fell. Shit, she knew, and he wasn't stupid enough to attempt to pull the wool over her eyes. She wasn't stupid, and he wasn't stupid enough to treat her like she was. “You saw it, didn’t ya?”

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed.

With a sigh, he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the bar. Before him, he stared at the six drinks. Ma, Pa, his siblings, and… His eye caught on the strawberry pink one, one frothy with milk. His little girl. No, his little angel, now. “So,” he began, the words struggling to break out. “That was you in my dream, wasn’t it?”

Robin opened her mouth, only to close it, glancing away. “Yes, and no,” she eventually answered. “I could not directly enter any of the dreams without losing the bet I made with my summon. However, I could watch, meaning I noticed when ‘I’ appeared in your dream. I didn’t know if you could hear me, but I took a chance, hoping my voice would span across the dreamscape. So while the ‘me’ in your dream was not the real me, I was speaking through her.”

He shrugged. “Close enough, then.”

“I’m sorry to have broken such a meaningful dream.”

“Don’t even worry your pretty little head,” he assured, finally gaining the courage to look up at her. “I knew I couldn’t stay. You just helped close the doors on the temptation.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But fudge, those Penacony dreams are something else, aren’t they? That thing was sweeter than your dadgum soulglad. Company and all.”

A touch of red kissed her cheeks, her wings fluttering around her ears. “By the way… that was rather insulting, thinking I was too nice for you. You’re a good man, Boothill. And a good father.”

“Don’t give me any ideas, angel,” he whispered, leaning in close. “I ain’t that good.”

“I beg to differ.”

Despite being made of metal, a certain warmth bloomed in his chest. Fudge, he hoped that was lingering mermoria from the dreamscape and not a fried circuit. Caving to the desire, dropped his hat on her head, tipping the brim down over her eyes. It was the only way he was confident enough to lean in so close she could smack him with those ear wings of hers. “Angels aren’t supposed to be the temptation,” he whispered. “It doesn’t suit you.”

He pulled away, dropping his hand from the hat. Tentatively, she peeked out from under the brim. Not even the shadow could cover the blush that painted her cheeks now. “The giving of a hat,” she remarked. “You did it in the dream as well, but I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with this gesture.”

“It means a man’s itchin’ to buy a rock, put it on the hand of a lovely lady, then build her a house and let her make it a home, throwing whatever flowers and doilies she darn well desires inside. But… that’s only if I were human. With this body of mine, a gesture like this can only mean I give you special permission to call me whenever you’re in trouble. This Galaxy Ranger will drop everything and come runnin’. I’m sure the Head of the Oak Family could find use in that.”

Her eyes sparkled, and it wasn’t just because of the lights. The brim of the hat shielded that pretty purple gaze against the neon decorating every damn inch of this place. “That’s very flattering.”

That warmth in his chest found a way to his cheeks. Son of a bitch, what broke in his circuits? Because no matter how bashful he felt under her sugary stare, there was no way in hell he was blushing. “Sorry. I… shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll bet little Miss Singin’ Queen has love confessions thrown at her all day long. And… at risk of shovin’ my foot in my mouth again, you’re missing an overprotective brother to chase away the idiots showing up on your doorstep. So I’ll see myself out.”

“On the contrary.” Before he could leave, she laid a hand on his arm. His gun-slinging arm. If the contrast was stark in the dream, this was black and white as could be. She was a diamond ring, forever dazzling a rainbow under the lights, and he was an old barstool, damned to fall apart after enough alcohol-influenced fights. “I wouldn’t want to dismiss one that is so meaningful.”

Though this might still be a dream, he knew this place had its limits, and he’d already tested his luck enough. “I ought to head out, Darlin'. But thank you… for everything.”

He hated how disappointed she looked. Hated even more when she pulled her hand away. Hated most that he couldn’t even feel the warmth of her touch. “Oh! Your hat.” She extended it to him. “I wouldn’t want you to lose it.”

“Keep it,” he said, not daring to touch it. He needed some distance to get his head on straight again. “As a token of our deal. Don’t you forget it, neither. Ya hear me?”

She held it close to her chest, over her heart. “I promise. I also promise to remember your daughter.”

Ugh, he was gonna have to stop to get his circuits rechecked. Damnit! He didn’t want to have to waste the time, but his chest, right where his heart should be, was burning something awful. “Thank you, Robin. Means the world to me.”

“By the way… I don’t think I ever caught her name.”

“Her name…”

In the usually still, stale air of Dreamflux Reef, a breeze cut through the city, catching the name off his lips and carrying it away into the night.

[ranchracoon]

"Blood, Flesh, and Bones"

Ch. 1 Disappearing Act

Master Post

Prologue

A new dawn begins with the rising of the sun as you startle awake back in the uncomfortable familiarity of your bed. With one heavy heave, you shove the covers off yourself and step onto the cold wooden flooring. Ania and your mother are awake as well to prepare the morning in peace before your father wakes. Mother works on breakfast, you tend to the stock, and Ania helps with morning chores. You don't mind the commute from your home to the farm, it's only a short walk downhill on the edge of the woods. The morning dew soaks your thin clothing but the shivers remind you that you're alive, and you can just be alone in existence. The first chore is emptying the food scraps from last nights dinner into the pig pen, mixed with their regular diet of rotten vegetables and grains. You open the pen for the chickens, they all come clucking out to greet the morning dew and peck at the pests in the field. All while you collect their portion of the rent. The few cows and goats chatter impatiently awaiting for you to relieve them of their milk which used to take you hours to finish. 

You could realistically get it done within an hour, but you take your time with each and every one to prolong the time spent alone. When all is done, you heave the containers of milk over your shoulder and carry the eggs in one hand. By the time breakfast is laid out and ready, your father awakens from his drunken stupor only to scarf his meal down like a ravenous dog, then get himself functional enough to tend to his job. He watches you the entire time, as he sloppily shoves food into his mouth. Every suitor he's tried to find you has mysteriously disappeared, he knows you have something to do with it; these disappearances have been happening for months since your grandmother's death. He just doesn't have the proof.

The moment he leaves everyone can breath a little easier. When you were younger, you would beg your mother to leave him, run away to the city where they can be safe but she was always too scared. You've squirreled away some money every time you get some, and you're so close to having enough. Today at the markets will make or break that; you just need a little more to get you and your sister out of this town. Your mother has made her bed. 

At the markets you sell the excess produce and animal products from your farm to surrounding towns and even some city folk who drive in just to get 'farm fresh' vegetables. Today was an especially good day, making record profits and sending you well over your monetary goals. As you're about to close up shop, a close personal friend of yours named Amber comes running up to you, hugging you from behind. You chuckle softly and turn around once she releases you, her beaming smile and radiant aura are always infectious. 

"Hey Morgan! Are you doing anything tonight?"

"Just the usual. Why?"

"Well, I heard that a couple people from the next town over are having a bonfire tonight and we're invited."

"Are you sure that's a safe decision? With all the people disappearing-"

"It'll be fine! We're going as a pretty large group, and I hear there's going to be some city girls there too."

Amber bounces excitedly, she's the only person in this whole town, other than your grandmother, who truly knows how you feel. You could care less about having a husband, or any man near you for that matter. You grind your teeth nervously, you could easily sneak out and go to this, but the vast amount of people who have gone missing makes you nervous. Then again, the last time she snuck out for a party was in high school, when she got drunk for the very first time. 

"Just think about it. We're meeting by Danny's Pub around 9, and Jason is going to drive us."

When you return home you do the same routine as you have done since you could walk; drop the money made onto the table for your father to waste on alcohol, go to the field and bring in the goats, cows, and pigs for the night, then heard the chickens in. Mother makes dinner, and Ania finishes cleaning up the house before your father stomps in with his dirty boots, dragging mud, dirt, and who knows what else into the house. He comes home an hour late, slumping into his chair and taking a bite of his food. No one can eat until he does.

"This is cold!" He slams his fork down.

"I'll heat it up for you" your mother gets up from her seat and grabs the plate.

"I work my ass off all day, the least you can fucking do is have a hot meal and a cold beer ready for me. God fucking damn."

She returns the plate and he takes another bite, after a few more bites the rest of your family begins to eat. When he finishes he sits back and looks around the table, taking a long drink from his bottle before sighing loudly. He takes the stack of money you left and counts it before shoving it into the pocket of his overalls, then he smacks his lips. 

"I'll be leaving for a few days" he proclaims. 

"Going where?" Your mother asks carefully. 

"Me and a few boys are going to travel to the city. Apparently there's a few other nearby towns that are also experiencing some disappearances. Dan said he tried to contact the county sheriff and was left on hold, so we'll be going in person. Otherwise, we're gonna set up our own search party."

You look at your father from the corner of your eye, taking a slow, deep breath to contain your excitement. This is exactly the opportunity you've been looking for! You've make up your mind; tonight you'll go to the party for one last hoorah, then when your father leaves you take Ania and bail. Mother won't do anything to stop you, and with your father gone that gives you at least a day or two head start. Everything is coming together. 

That night you sneak out the window as you've done thousands of times, landing softly on the ground below. You zip up your hoodie to keep the chill air at bay as you scamper across town to the pub. Amber spots you first and waves to you, squealing with excitement that you decided to come. Including you and Amber, there's ten people total; five in Jason's car and five in Rossela's. The car ride is filled with laughter, music, and a little pregaming for those not currently driving. You arrive to the party, seeing strangers from 'rival' towns all gathered to have fun, and for once in a very long time you let yourself relax. 

As the night goes on, the alcohol runs faster, you've managed to only nurse a singular drink  but you pretend to keep refilling it. Amber finds you eventually and drags you all over the party, trying to find you someone to dance with but not having much luck. Instead she dances with you, trying to get you to loosen up which works. How can you say no to her? She refills your cup, brings it to your lips and tips it up for you until your previous anxieties are melted away. Once your head is nice and fuzzy, you follow her blindly considering she's the only person you really know here. 

She takes your hand and guides you off, away from the party. Your heart starts to hammer in your chest, you won't deny you've always had a secret admiration of your best friend. How could you not? She has gorgeous red hair that flows down her back, cute little freckles that show up when she's been in the sun too long, and the most hypnotizing green eyes. Maybe all your sick fantasies are coming true, as she drags you deeper toward the woods. The whispers of warning on the wind fall on deaf ears. 

She turns around, holding both of your hands in hers as she smiles up at you, but her genuine smile turns into that of sadness as you're ripped from her grasp. You tug and fight with all your might, managing to toss one of the people holding you, and forcing another to take their place. The two people fight and struggle with you, until you are brought up and tossed into a literal dog cage with the lock clamped shut with a padlock. 

"Amber? Amber what the fuck! Get me out of here."

Amber approaches, her brows furrowed in sorrow as tears run down her face, "I'm sorry Morgan. They have my sister! This is the only way I can get her back."

You sit there hopelessly as your once best friend turns away from you, and you look around seeing numerous others from the party also locked in different sized cages. A man dressed in all black approaches Amber, motioning toward a pickup where Amber's sister, Lara, comes running out. They embrace each other tightly, Amber sobbing quietly as she clutches her little sister. You sit back on the hard steel frame, sighing heavily as you bring your legs to your chest and rest your forehead on your knees. Could you truly say you wouldn't have done the same for Ania?

Chapter 2

[blake447]

Minecraft Machines

I'm bored so i want to show off some old minecraft machine from the most recent server i was playing on with a friend, and ATM 10 server. Machine one: The moss machine

This one is relatively simple, basically it used Integrated dynamics as a cable system for both logic and item transfer. Integrated dynamics is a little cumbersome to use, but its extremely powerful for creating complex logic. Luckily here, very little complexity is needed

This top loop of cables is item input distribution, set to distribute stone round-robin style to each of the auto placers. A block reader detects if one of the spots (chosen arbitrarily) is occupied by stone, and if so sends a firing signal to a series of auto-breakers through the bottom wires, that then distribute the moss blocks mined into the output chest

The next machine is fully enclosed. It utilizes create so it needs some source of rotational force. I'm still using basic water wheels, because they are scalable and get the job done. There's a simple clutch system to detach my machines from the array of water wheels, so that multiple machines can be connected, where the one thats needed at the time is simply flipped on

This ones pretty simple actually, its just a cobblestone generator that allows for diorite production, that then gets piped into some crushing wheels to drop like nether quartz like 10% of the time. But when you're grinding several stacks at a time, it adds up. Really the only hard part about this one is that the crushing wheel was locked behind a fair amount of nether quartz, but I was able to process some prismarine clusters or break down blocks with a modded machine to initially acquire it.

This one here hypothetically creates infinite sand and clay. Theres a cobblestone generator behind the scenes which gets squeezed into gravel which gets crushed into sand which gets bulk washed into clay (25% of the time). Each step is accompanied by a buffer chest, so that once the machine has been up and running to jamming point, any of the resource steps are available for grabs in a pinch. Lava needs to be replaced and i haven't hooked up the RF power so currently non-operational.

I think finally for this workshop area at least, this is my basic tree farm. Bone meal is pumped in through an access bin, activated by a lever. Upon receiving signal from an integrated dynamics block reader, checking that the tree has grown, a tree milling construct built from create components mines the tree and pipes all the output into a grid of mechanical bins, of which the bottom middle acts as the sapling supply.

Now these were fun to build, but i have a much older server yes. One filled with all sorts of beautiful and fucked up shit. Zero cool down skeletons, ingot singularities, distant worlds. Thats right its Dungeons Dragons and Space Shuttles babyyyyyyyyy~ DDSS's philosophy is simple. Why make 2, when you can make 1000? Recipes are expensive, complicated, and often require several, several intermediary steps. Servos, motors, computer chips, everything seems to need these stupid fucking transistors. Crafting most shit needs some form of liquid, ranging from syngas, to methane, to liquid fucking starlight, and is often crafted on a 5x5 grid with 3 supporting tools. Point being crafting in this modpack requires some serious shit. And that means the machines border on the absurd. I'm going to post just a bunch of minecraft machinery from it here once it finally loads, but i'll put it into its own post so you can simply appreciate their beauty

[azzydoesstuff]

behold, my massive fucking moonshine factory (in minecraft for legal reasons)

so basically, i've been goofing around with the create mod the last few weeks and i installed quite a few addons to add way more content. one of these addons, "destroy", adds chemistry and stuff. but that's not important, all that matters is that it adds ILLEGAL LIQOUR BREWING

knowing me, i'd of course spend almost a week or two building a 100% fully automatic moonshine brewery and distillery.

the only thing that isn't completely automated is the heat from the blaze burners of the steam engine that powers this behemoth, which have been fed with creative blaze cakes so i don't have to build a blaze fuel farm too (i'll do it at some point)

here's some screenshots

and here's a top-down view, with and without legend

Steam Engine (absolute beast, provides power to the entire factory)

Emergency Waterwheels (in case the steam engine overstresses, i can disconnect it from the main mechanism and start it up using these, no need to restart it up manually)

Ingredient Sorter, Left Wing

Ingredient Sorter, Right Wing

Aging Barrels, Left Wing

Aging Barrels, Right Wing

Water Pumps (collect water for the moonshine)

Distillation Bubble Cap Mechanisms (three of them for maximum liquor potence)

Final Fluid Tank (stores fully-distilled moonshine before it is bottled)

Automatic Cobblestone Generator

Cobblestone Crushers (two sets of crushing wheels per belt, one crushing cycle turns cobble into gravel, the second turns gravel into sand)

Bulk Blaster (create mod's equivalent of a super-smelter. smelts all of the sand into glass)

Mechanical Crafters (craft glass into glass bottles)

Bottling Station (spouts sploosh moonshine into the freshly crafted bottles)

Final Storage Vault (where the bottled moonshine finally ends up. has a storage space so massive it'll basically never stop growing)

Automatic Wheat Farm (wheat is one of two ingredients for moonshine, uses a gantry carriage contraption to sweep the mature crops and then deposits them into the vault sorting system)

Seed Composters (uses the leftover seeds from the wheat farm to make bone meal for the mushroom farm)

Semi-Automatic Mushroom Farm (relies on the wheat farm for bone meal, but besides that, is fully automatic. repeatedly plants a mushroom, bone meals it into a giant shroom, then cuts it down with a mechanical saw to get more shrooms in return)

Mushroom Crusher (grinds mushrooms into bricks of yeast, the other ingredient in moonshine, then flings it into the yeast vault)

Wheat Vault (stores wheat until it's time for another brewing cycle)

Yeast Vault (stores yeast until it's time for another brewing cycle)

Wheat Farm Sorting System (wheat is deposited into the wheat vault, seeds are flung into the mushroom farm's composters, and any other items that might've ended up there by mistake are incinerated)

Distilled Water Disposal Pipe (transports any leftover water from the moonshine distillation into the steam engine, thus getting rid of it)

Catwalk Elevator (thought it'd be cool to have a lift bring you up to some catwalks above the whole factory, so i made it)

[fallenangelofsalt]

Purple Gold 4 (major TW for drowning and fear of death, plus some wild murder-related imagination)

Masterpost

@styck-figure @whirld-of-color I think I went a bit overboard on the metaphors here.

It's been two weeks since your fall.

You wake up with tear stains in your pillow and corndogs in your mouth, like you've done for fourteen days now.

You get up with a wince and aching legs, and bite into a carrot to chase away the taste in your mouth. Your mom liked to slip them in your meals when she wanted you to feel better, the crunchyness of the raw slices pleasant in your teeth even if the taste got funny sometimes, but now it always tastes like bone.

(It tastes like eating pork ribs and scraping your teeth on the bone to chew on the last scraps of meat still clinging to it, the rock salt caught around the edges of your mouth keeping the picked clean leftovers deliciously salty on your tongue. Dad made it with love, and you can tell with every bite. You really miss him.)

You walk outside to check on your small farm, aches fading into mild numbness after a few steps in the sun. Your carrots grew well, the wheat, beetroot, watermelons and potatoes just a few steps behind. You reap the full grown crops and plant new seeds calmly before dumping the fruits of your labor inside the small chest already filled with seeds, hastily harvested mushrooms, apples, bones, bowls and some fish.

(You wonder at the other, bigger chests in your base, filled almost to the brim with enchanted books and bows and fishing rods, iron and gold, music disks and name tags, saddles and horse armor, redstone and gunpowder. You wonder if it was really meant to be that easy to find those moss-filled rooms, if the stuff you fished up was really that easy to get. You swear you feel the sunshine wrap itself around you, a gentle but impossible hug, just like the laugh you hear in the wind.)

Your weapons and tools never left your inventory, but you to take a couple minutes to stock up on food and put on your armor, iron leggings, chainmail chestplate from a zombie that dropped in oddly perfect condition and leather boots from five days ago where the only thing you managed to get in six hours of fishing was four chests worth of heavily damaged leather boots before you gave up and went to sleep, but not before combining all of them into two less damaged ones.

You head out towards the jungle biome you found a while ago. Before the fall. You remember seeing cocoa beans and cookies on gameplays during your past visits to the outernet, and wonder if you could make hot chocolate in this world. Maybe it would help with the nightmares of hugs and love and laughter and happiness and dad you've been having lately.

(You avoid the pumpkin patch that wasn't there before, every carved out gaze aimed towards your base, your bed, you. You avert your eyes, pretend you don't hear the squirming, and hope they'll go away while you're gone.)

~

You reach the jungle by sunset.

You know better than to stay outside at night, so you take out your shovel and make a quick dirt hut to wait for dawn. You made a clock a while ago so there is no need for doors or windows for mobs to spot you.

The wait is long and boring, but you have plenty of food on you, and at no point do you hear the telltale noise of creepers.

The next morning you exit the hut, iron axe slung over your shoulder as you search for cocoa. You catch glimpses of ocelots darting out of sight and collect plenty of melon slices and jungle saplings between cutting down trees and harvesting cocoa beans.

You even find some sugar canes at the edge of a river, and make a mental note to get some cows and chickens later, you've been itching to try some cake.

After a while of chopping wood and a near-full inventory, you look up at the towering two by two trees that nearly block out the sun entirely, and wonder if you could climb far enough to reach the leaves at the very top.

(A childish goal, but you can't help but think it sounds fun, and maybe, on the back of your mind, something childish and small and fragile like glass whispers that he will catch you if you fall. You don't know who he is, but maybe you want to believe in the glass dust inside your bones, even as it scrapes you raw from the inside out.)

You approach the tallest tree in view, covered almost entirely by vines swaying to the gentle breeze. You place your hands on the vines, and pause, taking off your heavy armor before you take a deep breath, grab the plants once more, and start climbing.

Your hands hold on to vines and uneven bark, ignoring the slight scrapes left on your fingers and the way the wood seems to shift beneath your grasp, the vines tangling just under your feet every time your grip slips even slightly.

You reach the lowest branch, taking a break to rest your limbs and taking a look at the jungle from your new vantage point. You see ocelots peeking out of the foliage, gazing curiously at you. You munch on a carrot before returning to your goal.

As you get closer, the jungle seems to cheer you on. The meowing of ocelots growing louder the further you go, the wind almost deafening as it ruffles the leaves and vines like a playful challenge.

Finally, you reach the upper canopy, leaves getting stuck in your braid as you squeeze yourself between them, until your hand breaks free above it all and you finally stand at the very top of the jungle.

Drunk in childish triumph, you look up at the sky in unrestrained joy, a shout of delight tangling with the laughing wind, and as you gaze at the flourishing biome from the top of the platform of leaves you swear the sky smiles at you.

(The sun squints with fondness and the clouds mimic your excitement, but the teeth you pretend aren't there shift into a shape of spirals and fractals that could only be described as mischief.

There is no malice there, but maybe that should scare you more.)

Suddently, the leaves vanish, your feet sinking into air like they were never there, and you fall.

Your fall only takes a couple seconds, and maybe you'd be grateful for landing on water, but the river where you found the sugarcane had been left behind hours ago and a panicked glance around before you hit the water revealed no nearby land.

You fight to keep your head above the surface, but your father never bothered teaching you how to swim, and your mom had been too sick to do it herself. In barely any time, you sink.

Holding your breath and flailing your limbs frantically, you look around in panic for something, anything to keep you from drowning, and yet there is nothing.

(He can't save you here. He won't.)

Clawing desperately in the direction of the light, you barely notice yourself opening your mouth, begging for him to save you-

You notice your mistake-

You end up inhaling anyways, water flooding your lungs, salt burning on the cuts inside your bones and leaving you full of tears that won't go away no matter how much you claw at your throat. Your screams and sobs go unheard, silenced by the blue caging you on all sides.

The darkness is almost gentle when it closes in, but you know what comes after.

You wake up once more, in that not-quite-space, with something formless holding you tight in its unphysical grasp.

This time, it doesn't rip you open right away, and yet maybe it does, something sharp and soft cracking your head open like taffy and ripping your stitching anew until your waterlogged lungs and bleeding ribs are exposed in the bright darkness of the unlife. Glass dust lands on your heart and spine, burrowing into your flesh and causing beads of your namesake to well up and float off to rest between sky-spiral teeth.

You want to squirm, to cry, to beg. Yet you are terrified of moving, of making a single sound, of the thought of the fingers caging you in starting to squeeze and crush until you pop into leftover nonexistence, of the sharpness you feel around your heart biting down on it like a bitter, sour apple, purple-coded blood driping down the sharp nothingness of its mouth to pool inside your small pocket of unreality.

None of it happens. The sky bares its teeth with love instead.

It stitches you back together once more, and your skin feels tight and loose and off-color for a moment before you fall back into existence.

You wake up in bed, a sharp ache in your body and pineapple slushie on your tongue.

When you finally muster up the strenght to get up, you note more gold in your hair and a pair of strange eggs in your inventory.

(The pumpkins are still there when you go outside.)

[balkanradfem]

I have important question, what do you use as fertilizer for plants? I don't really want to buy one and I read there are options, like veggie broth or tea, but I am unsure what works best. I read some use a bit of menstrual blood diluted in water, which I am tempted to try, but wonder how weird it is.

I use menstrual blood diluted in water every time! But there's not enough of that to be a consistent fertilizer, or to work for the entire garden. Here's stuff that I have tried out:

urine dilluted 1:10 with water! It has a great amount of nitrogen and trace amounts of other minerals, do not use it more than two times a month, and not on tiny plants. It's the best for green growth

fermented nettle: for this, fill a plastic container that you can close, with big nettles, and then pour water on them, all the way to the top, and close it up. Leave in hot sun to ferment for 10 days. Once it's done it will stink, and I mean, stink badly. Dillute 1:10 before watering your plants with! Don't use on peas, beans and other legumes, they do not like the nitrogen.

fermented comfrey: same as nettle, has so many good nutrients in there, has tons of calcium, will help your plants a lot!

menstrual blood diluted with water: safe for all plants, plants absolutely love blood

if you suspect your plants are lacking in some minerals you can use egg shells, or even crushed shells from the beach/river, and put them in your soil to make sure there's enough calcium in it! I didn't do a lot of this but the plant lady is always doing it

Mulch: it means putting organic material on top of the soil, this can be hay, straw, cut grass, dried leaves, pine needles, cut off tree branches, plant cuttings or leftovers, whatever has fallen off a plant or a tree is in this category. Now what will happen is these materials, exposed to the sun and elements, will start to degrade and compost themselves into your soil, and you will have fresh organic compost on top of your soil. Once your mulch degrades to compost you can add more material! Endless fertilization and fixing the soil and making sure you little worms have food to eat.

Stuff I've only heard of:

coffee grounds: apparently they're very good for soil and feeding the plants!

if you have leftovers of food in the forms of fish or bones, those are great for fertilization! There even are specific fertilizers called 'bone meal' or 'fish fertilizer' because plants really love that kind of stuff. It's better to compost them first though or add them in crushed form, they need to be reduced to the elements before plants can absorb them

Mushrooms: if you can get any fungal growth in your garden it's extremely healthy for your plants! If you're only looking for potted soil disregard this. But garden plants love having mushrooms around and if you have any mushroom growth it means your soil is super healthy

compost tea: I am sure this one is amazing because 'Roots and Refuge' farm used it to rejuvinate their soil after it's been poisoned by herbicide. I'm not sure how I would do it with my outside compost pile but the idea is to put your half-composted leftovers into water, leave it there for some hours, and strain it out, so the water has taken tons of nutrients from it, and then you water your plants with it! In general, whatever you use dissolved in water will have immediate effect because your plants will draw that water in immediately. It takes a bit to absorb stuff you put in the soil!

I guess I shouldn't leave out the 'traditional' fertilization methods, which is animal poop, just in case you have like, chicken or bunnies or something making a lot of poop, that can be used as fertilizer. Do look up what poop needs to be composted for a while first though! Some animals like cows produce poop so nitrogen-rich it would fry your plants if used immediately, it needs to sit for a year first.

Good luck to your plants, you never have to buy fertilizer because there is so much of nutrients in nature you can always get it for free, with just some basic knowledge of how to get to it :)

[trickstarbrave]

i hate when ppl dont understand how intertwined all the fucked up systems of capitalism are. they present it as "take away [x] and things will work better!" when that damn well will not fix it. or they dont even realize the problem is actually capitalism not some other thing they have been fixated on

like. veganism argument: "we subsidize grains to feed livestock. if we stopped feeding livestock, we would have more food for everyone! the problem is livestock are eating too much of grains we could be eating"

a lot of the corn they are eating are byproducts of the ethanol industry. we are not in fact just growing huge fields of grains and refusing to eat them bc we can feed cows it instead. that would be way too costly. "subsidies" wouldn't cover it. at no point was the corn being grown for human consumption. most of the corn in the US is grown for biofuel. without livestock, we would not have MORE food to eat, we'd have a lot of leftover slop we have to toss out to slowly degrade in landfills.

its not the most healthy option to pump them full of byproducts. they should be allowed to forage and walk. but the problem is much more complex than than just "get rid of the cows to make more food for people!!" the cows eating the byproducts is whats making more food for people. not less. you can't just look at "grain products" and decide all of those were fit for human consumption. most of the stuff we feed farm animals is NOT fit for human consumption. for better or for worse.

and this is only one problem. some are relatively easy solutions (once all of the, yknow, capitalist incentive is removed) like how we have more houses than homeless people. just give people houses. except we should also look at: where are these houses being built, are they being built for quality and to last? because the answer is: they are built mostly in suburbs for cheap with lazy building standards and poor quality materials. we are tearing down homes with better bones and foundations for cheap, paper thin wood, new construction houses when many of them can be saved. these are homes far away from doctors and jobs that you actually need a car to get around to important places, so many people who don't have reliable transportation will still have many problems once settled in. to create more sustainable, walk-able communities and to have better public transportation we are still gonna need to tear a bunch of these down and rebuild communities, which is going to be a daunting task too.

food insecurity: okay we'll just give people food! except they might not have reliable ways to cook that food either. a lot of people who are food insecure grew up food insecure. they grew up in food deserts where microwave self stable meals were the norm. they might not have pots and pans or know how to find a recipe or make one themselves. many are chronically ill or disabled and don't have a lot of time and energy to cook. many people still think its better to give a food bank 10 cans of green beans that you forgot about and don't plan to use in donations rather than just giving the food bank 30 bucks.

idk. i dont really have an answer i suppose. i just wanted to complain about how messy and complicated these problems are. and i think if you're a serious activist you are going to need better, long term plans and big picture perspectives. these problems can seem incredibly easy to tackle on the surface to lots of online activists but are very complex issues to actually dismantle and combat. we can't just keep complaining and hope society collapses so we can rebuild from scratch. there is no after the revolution when everything will be good and perfect. no after the end of the world to pick ourselves up and make a utopia from the ashes. we gotta figure out the problem and start untangling it and deal with the first steps NOW. start with realistic goals. contacting local government. creating bettering, temporary solutions that are better than what we have now. disrupt the system bit by bit. get other ppl in on it. the world we wanna live in will not come to us overnight. we gotta build it brick by brick.

capitalism counts on it being too daunting of a task. they count on ppl just complaining and wishing it was better to sell them the solution without any real change. but real change has to come from small shit first. maybe start a community garden if you want a more sustainable community. make your own garden if you have the ability. collect rain water (YES ITS LEGAL IN ALL 50 STATES just heavily regulated in some. dont tell me its illegal in the US). create alternatives for companies you boycott. tell your local representative you want public transport and ask how to get it and rally your community for it enough that they have to bother ppl higher than them and actively have to start considering it. do ride shares. help out food banks with real stuff they ask for. look around your community for small problems you can address and find solutions.