#test electric fence

[fencefacts1]

How to Test Electric Fence Energizers: A Detailed Guide

As someone who has worked with electric fences for years, I know that the energizer, or fence charger, is the heart of your electric fence system. It’s crucial to regularly check your fence charger, especially if you’re experiencing issues with fence voltage.

In this guide, I’ll walk you through how to test an electric fence energizer using simple tools, based on my own experiences.

Read Detailed Guide on: https://fencefacts.com/test-electric-fence-energizer/

How Does an Electric Fence Energizer Work?

A fence energizer works by generating a high voltage, low amperage pulse, similar to an automotive ignition system. When current enters the energizer coil, it creates a magnetic field, producing a high voltage (5KV to 12KV) due to electromagnetic induction. However, exposure to moisture and rain can cause rust and lead to poor performance.

To protect your energizer, install it under a cover on a wall away from flammable materials, and where children and animals can’t reach it. Regularly inspect the wiring and circuits for loose connections, and use rust cleaner to keep it in good condition.

Tools Needed to Test an Electric Fence Energizer:

Screwdriver

Electric fence tester

A digital electric tester

Step 1: Safety Measures

Before testing, wear insulated gloves and shoes. An electric fence charger inputs 120 or 240 V AC and outputs high voltage (5–10KV), which can be unpleasant to experience.

Step 2: Test with a Screwdriver

Turn on the fence charger.

Attach the screwdriver’s metal part to the ground terminal.

Move it near the live terminal.

If the energizer is working, you’ll see a spark jump from the live terminal to the screwdriver, indicating a current pulse.

Step 3: Test with an Electric Fence Tester

Attach the tester’s metal pin to the live terminal.

Connect the black probe to the ground terminal.

Read the voltage on the tester. It should be above 5KV.

A good fence energizer will show a strong voltage reading. If the voltage is significantly lower than expected, the energizer might be faulty.

Step 4: Test the Output Voltage with a Multimeter

Although not recommended for precise readings due to the pulsing nature of the energizer, a multimeter can still provide a rough idea.

Set the multimeter to the AC voltage (V〜) at a higher range.

Insert the red probe into the VmAΩ port and the black probe into the COM port.

Connect the red probe to the live terminal and the black probe to the ground terminal. A functioning energizer should show between 5–12KV. If the reading is low, there might be an issue.

Step 5: Test the Amperage with a Multimeter

Set the multimeter to AC amps (A〜) in the milliamps range.

Connect the probes as before: black to ground and red to the live terminal.

An electric fence should output very low amperage (0–500 milliamps). Higher amperage could be dangerous.

Testing a Solar Fence Charger

Solar fence chargers store energy in a battery. Here’s how to test one:

Unscrew the plate on your solar energizer to access the battery.

Unplug the battery wires and fully recharge the battery.

Use a digital tester to check the battery voltage. A 12V battery should read around 12–12.6V.

Attach the battery to the energizer and turn it on. If you hear clicking, the battery was the issue.

If the problem persists, inspect for improper ground connections or shorted wires. Clean any corrosion with a rust spray like WD-40.

Frequently Asked Questions

1. Why is my electric fence clicking but not working?

Check the output voltage. Disconnect the wires, turn on the charger, and measure the voltage at the terminals. If it’s low, the charger is faulty.

2. How to test an electric fence without a tester?

You can use a piece of grass, a screwdriver, a tester screwdriver, a non-contact voltage tester, a compass, a tube light, or a light socket.

3. How to connect an electric fence to an energizer?

Connect the ground terminal to the fence rod and the live terminal to the fence wires using galvanized wires and clamps to prevent rust.

Conclusion

Testing your electric fence energizer is essential for maintaining a functional fence system. Follow these steps to ensure your energizer is working properly. If you have any questions or need further assistance, feel free to ask in the comments below.

[paladingineer]

Time to add my Regret Prison headcanon to the community pile.

My Rook had the regrets shown in-game. What she saw was exactly what we saw in canon. What was different was how she got out. She didn't grapple with her regrets and come to terms with things. She did the exact opposite.

She went into Crow Mode. This is all very sad and complex but this is all Rook's problem and there is no Rook, there is only The Contract. She doesn't have time for Rook's Emotions, she has a job to do. Everything else can wait.

Adava De Riva dissociated so hard she ejected herself from the fade.

[darkwood-sleddog]

yeah sorry neighbors your dog does absolutely *not* stay behind his invisible "fence" and absolutely does *not* listen to you.

[hyperfixiation-station]

Okay got another idea, this time an apocalypse au

You are immune to the virus, the only one, far as you can tell. You avoid living in one settlement, to scared of being experimented on to stay in one spot.

Instead you roam the continent, connecting settlements, delivering mail, keeping an eye out for survivors. Like some sort of desperado, you fought your way through hordes, marking city after city off your list as you looked for sanctuaries and survivors.

One day, you're walking, trudging through the wilderness. You're running low on supplies, and you're paying you find another settlement before you starve.

You stumble upon a cabin, closed off but looking...lived in. There's a greenhouse, with fresh food inside.

You want to go inside, but no better than to just waltz right in. From the looks of things, this person was a doomsday pepper, and who knows what kind of things are hidden under the ground.

But you are sooo hungry...and they even have a water system.

You prowl around the gate looking for an opening. There is none, so you resort to trying to get the attention of whoever lives here...you're not willing to test if the fence is electric or not. You collect a small pile of rocks, flinging them at the windows, but no one responds. Frustrated, you walk around the gates again, looking for any way in.

You spot a tree handing over the fence, and quickly scale it it, dropping into the yard. You scan the ground, looking for any sign of traps. Th ground looks undisturbed, so you take hesitant steps forwards, creeping towards the greenhouse. You're just gonna nab some food and then leave...everything will be fine.

You know you should knock on the door and ask, but you know to be wary of survivors outside the settlements, especially when they live like this. Clearly, this person didn't need the safety of a settlement. So you just keep walking, slipping into the greenhouse as quietly as you can.

You sigh at the warmth that greets you, your eye widening as you start at the small array of fruits and vegetables inside. You grab just a few carrots and slide them into your bag, starving for more but still not willing to steal even after all that has happened.

You turn back towards the door, gasping at the hulking figure standing there. He fills the door way, holding gun and a...is that a skull on his face? You don't have enough time to see though, because there's a loud bang, a moment of burning pain, and the world goes dark.

[foldingfittedsheets]

We had the most egregiously evil little pony horse when I was growing up. I know everyone says that. Ponies are one of the animals that truly understand how to commit crimes but she was really deeply atrocious. One time she tried to murder me. Her name was Fancy.

I feel I should slightly explain here. See, my parents bought two acres with a house and a barn and pasturage and went “We’re farmers now!” They had absolutely no idea what they were doing. And at a certain point along that journey my mom got her hands on a horse. Technically she was half pony half horse so she was this weird middle size.

Fancy belonged to a friend of hers and he showed her how to saddle Fancy. And that was it. That was all we knew about this horse. So my mom brings her home and saddles her and we decide to go for a ride on this new creature in our lives. But Fancy, being the savvy bitch she was, was far too canny for our dumb asses.

Her maiden ride went to my older brother and ended rather abruptly when the saddle slid completely sideways and my brother toppled off her, miraculously unharmed but unwilling to ever try again. This made me like Fancy somewhat, because I hated my brother.

Those familiar with horse trickery would have caught her ruse but Fancy had deliberately held her breath to make the saddle seem tight enough. But in stride she let the breath out, the saddle loosened, and my brother came toppling down. She planned that fuckup.

I was a bit more game, being a dedicated horse girl. I wanted to succeed where my loathsome brother had failed. Keep in mind: none of us had ever ridden. We had no idea what we were doing, and in the only defense I’ll ever make of that hoofed demon it was probably not pleasant to have a human flopping on her back like a sack of potatoes. But I paraded around in a circle until she scraped my leg against a fence post. I lasted longer than my brother but had to admit riding an animal radiating malice at you is not comfortable.

We didn’t really ride Fancy much after that. She was a decorative aspect to the fields. Sometimes I’d sit on her bare back while she was eating. Every so often she’d buck me off for assuming familiarity with her.

But Fany's coup de grâce took several months. Most of the pasturage had electric fence running along it to keep the livestock from testing the fences or getting a taste for freedom. My parents were constantly moving fence posts and reallocating land to different purposes which is how one of the major gates ended up with electric fence running over top. During a move the wire got left up from the last border and now it was strung over what should have been an open passage.

I was taking a ride on Fancy, living in a fantasy that I had any idea what I was doing. My mom was out working in the yard, and as she passed through she left the gate open, forgetting the wire hazard. You know who didn't forget?

Fancy.

She beelined for the open gate and I realized a second too late what her plan was. I hauled back on the reins with all my strength but she powered through, charging at the wire. If I'd caught on sooner I could have tipped forward and probably cleared it.

It was roughly chest height. But she was too savvy, keeping a slow pace right up until the passage, and I didn't have time to react. The thought of getting electrocuted sent me down into a terrified backward limbo, desperately trying to flatten myself along her back.

Her assassination almost worked. But instead of beheading me the wire caught under my chin, pressing back into my neck like a garrote. The only good news was that the wire wasn't live, but I was still in terrible danger. I squealed and wiggled and managed to twist my neck enough that the wire scraped over my face instead of pressing deeper. Once we were through Fancy stopped and turned to regard me, disappointed that her murder had failed. My neck was bleeding but my head remained attached.

My mother was absolutely terrified and I was pretty shaken myself. We unsaddled Fancy for the last time, as full on attempts on my life were a bit more than I was willing to bear for the sake of pretending to be a fantasy hero on an epic journey. My neck still has a faint scar from her homicidal tendencies.

Fancy got to remain a decorative horse for many years after that, free of our attempts to ride her. Her last torment was when my mother decided to try to breed her to achieve an animal that was less interested in murder.

But Fancy, true to form, brutally attacked the stallion sent to service her, even when hopped up on horny hormones. There would be no foals from Fancy, and her saga ended when we sold her to another unlucky soul.

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 4

Last episode ended with Simon coming home to a smashed window, this episode starts the morning after, Simon takes the bus to school, while Wilhelm is anxiously waiting for him.

Culture: At a high school level in Sweden, there's national tests in Swedish, English, and Math. Like everywhere else, the purpose of these tests is not only to grade students, but to align all schools across the country to combat grade inflation.

Blink and you miss it: Vincent is trying to cheat by looking at Nils' answers.

Blink and you miss it: Vincent draws a dick in the gravel while waiting for the others to be done with the test.

Subtext: This entire episode is overflowing with examples of privilege. For Vincent, and many other rich kids like him, studying and learning doesn't matter, they'll graduate regardless, so he doesn't care about the exam, he only cares about the graduation party.

Cinematography: Even with Felice and friends being completely blurred out in the background, you can still see Stella and Fredrika turning to look at Sara, and then turning their backs on her.

Culture: In the US, a lot of people are using "socialism" as a catch-all phrase which means politics they don't agree with, regardless of its actual ideology. Likewise, in Sweden, a lot of people use "communist" in the same way about generally left-wing politics, which is what Vincent is doing here.

Subtext: Wilhelm asks Simon if he can reconcile the conflict of dating a royal while being anti-monarchy, but the real question is of course if Wilhelm can reconcile the conflict in himself.

Subtext: This is where the show's political stance shines through, and this argument, that Wilhelm wasn't allowed to choose his life for himself, is the main argument they're gonna use in the finale.

Subtext: Wilhelm is weakly defending the monarchy, but just ends up repeating what his mother told him; it's a privilege, not a punishment, but does he believe it himself?

Subtext: The letter-to-yourself plot is mainly there in order to help August along his redemption arc, but here the show is using it to reinforce the point of the previous scene. Who does Wilhelm want to become? Does he have a choice?

Culture: In Sweden, Säkerhetspolisen, SÄPO, is the government agency in charge of national security, which includes providing security and assigning bodyguards to the royal family.

Subtext: Note the great use of passive voice here by Farima to avoid taking responsibility for the decision to force August to join the birthday foundation event. She's also expertly bargaining with Wilhelm to get what she wants.

Subtext: We know it was the far-right assholes who posted comments to Simon's videos a couple of episodes ago.

Blink and you miss it: Jan-Olof really perks up when Linda talks about moving to Gothenburg, because that would probably mean the end to the relationship between Wilhelm and Simon, which would solve all of his current problems.

Subtext: Like Farima, he bargains with Linda and Simon to get what he wants, for Simon to stop posting things to social media. It's almost as if their strategy was to do nothing at the start, waiting for things to blow up so they could swoop in, help out, and start making demands in exchange...

Blink and you miss it: The option to inactivate and hide your social media account is right there, but of course Simon has to choose to delete everything, because it will cause more drama and anguish.

Blink and you miss it: Fencing! Woohoo! I did fencing for five years as a kid until 8th grade or something, but I only did foil, and not épée like these students. I have absolutely no idea where these two are coming from or going to though, where would they practice? Is there a hidden fencing hall somewhere on the grounds that we haven't seen yet? How many kids at Hillerska are fencing? Also, he's carrying a practice blade and not an electric competition blade, so that checks out. Of the three types of modern fencing, épée is unique in that the entire body counts as a valid target, while in foil only the torso counts, and in sabre only the upper half counts. Oh wow, it looks like the gear is now wireless and every fencer carries their own indicator lights. Cool! Back in my day you had to be strapped in with a cord for competitions.

This tumblr is now about French School fencing. Allez! Touché!

Subtext: The narrative is that it's perfectly ok for the crown prince to be gay, as long as he's not gay gay.

Culture: The show keeps saying this, but in real world Sweden it's no longer the case. Supporting los jibbities is viewed as a completely mainstream and inoffensive opinion, on par with supporting human rights in general.

Subtext: Another example of privilege is being in a position to do a lot of good, and then just not caring about it. Simon is fighting for the causes he believes in, so seeing Wilhelm just casually throw it away is extremely disappointing for him.

Subtext: Unlike Vincent, August is actually a natural leader, someone people listen to, which is why he manages to quiet down the room when Vincent is unable to. Maybe a good quality in a future king?

Subtext: Simon is continuing the argument from before. Wilhelm could have shown solidarity with mental health causes or LGBT causes, but chose not to. However, he immediately decided to join in solidarity with the other rich kids protesting the school rules, which is rather selfish.

Subtext: Colour theory! Sara in purple, because part of the reason she's back at school is that August asked her to? And Simon in yellow, because he sure isn't loving Wilhelm very much right now.

Subtext: Just a reminder that Sara has actually been completely out of the loop since the end of season 2. She has no idea about the school rules, what's happened at home, how it's going with Simon and Wilhelm, or what's happening at school.

Blink and you miss it: Fredrika is so close to stop striking as soon as she's threatened with repercussions.

Subtext: I keep hammering this point home: The culture is in the walls, it's not something some of the kids made up. The visiting alumni were also hazed as new students and kept it going as third years. Same for the parents of all these kids. They're all part of the system, they all kept the cycles of abuse going, because they want the school to be like that.

Subtext: Privilege is thinking you can get things your way with almost no effort. None of these kids have ever struggled or protested something for real and then not been given what they wanted, so they seriously believed they'd win immediately.

Subtext: Another theme of this season is bringing secrets out in the open. We've all seen August struggling with body dysmorphia and an eating disorder since season 1, but no-one has ever called it out and put words on it, until Simon immediately recognizes it and calls it out.

Subtext: ...while the rich kids are just stuck in denial, because eating disorders is for poor people or something, it's not something that happens to them. And if it did, you certainly wouldn't admit it to anyone else.

Subtext: August tries to jokingly fend off Nils because he doesn't want anyone to know that the letter actually meant something to him, until Nils pushes too hard, and August punches him.

Subtext: Vincent talked a big game about striking in solidarity, but when they're caught as hilariously unprepared as they are, they're not pooling their resources in solidarity with each other, and instead resort to selling them to the highest bidder. Capitalism in a nutshell, illustrated perfectly by the behaviour of spoiled rich kids. Also, pet peeve, the English word for the currency of Sweden is "kronor", not "crowns".

Lost in translation: They're actually repeating a single word in Swedish, "svikare", which is pretty hard to translate. The verb, "svika", is a bit worse than letting someone down, but not as bad as betraying someone. The adjective, "besviken" typically means disappointed. So "svikare" means a person who is letting other people down, disappointing them, or betraying them.

Subtext: The culture is in the walls of the place, but the kids are also pretty damn complicit in continuing all the shitty traditions. This looks like a game of strip poker or truth or dare that went off the rails and just resulted in more bullying, with everyone joining in.

Subtext: The other girls are upset with Felice because she broke the code. You don't snitch to outsiders, you don't tell the truth, you keep up appearances.

Blink and you miss it: Henry won the potato chip auction, happily ate the entire bag, and passed out in a chair, clutching the bag. Mmmm, sourcream and onion.

Subtext: Speaking of closing ranks towards the outside, this also applies to this strike. It would be bad PR for the school if anyone outside found out that it happened, so it's better to solve it quietly and discreetly. Vanessa can trust the kids not to snitch. Vincent is also right, the parents, who are paying the tuition fees, are on their side.

Subtext: Felice can't be seen talking to Sara, so she checks that the coast is clear, and then drags Sara into a private bathroom to have their conversation.

Subtext: Likewise, Sara was probably Felice's first real friend.

Subtext: Nice little foreshadowing. I would have loved seeing Simon's drawing though!

Subtext: Well, he could have just made his social media private, but the show has to maximize the drama, so here we are, piling on more examples of how Simon is losing himself to the monarchy, that maybe he can't reconcile the conflict.

Subtext: Erik spent three years living at Hillerska, of course he wouldn't have told his then twelve year old kid brother about all the shit going on at the school. August spent an entire year living with Erik at the school, seeing what went on first hand, so of course he knows a side of Erik that Wilhelm doesn't.

Subtext: August has been trying to keep his mouth shut and avoid Wilhelm, but since they have yet another fight, he decides to drop the bomb about Erik to hurt Wilhelm.

Subtext: Again, the culture is in the walls. This is not something that only Erik's class did, once. It's probably been happening to all the boys for decades. It happened to the current second-year students, it happened to Erik, and lots of students before him who kept this shitty initiation tradition going.

Culture: Let's talk about the gay porn hazing a bit more. To me, this is an urban legend. I heard about it when I was a teenager back in the 90's, but I don't personally know anyone it happened to, or anyone who did it to anyone else. It was always hearsay, it happened to a friend of a friend's brother, or a classmate's cousin's friend or something similar, as is typical of urban legends.

Let's also make one thing absolutely clear: It doesn't work. The homophobic idea behind this shit is that if you are forced to watch gay porn and get a boner, you are gay, and if you don't, you're straight. But that is actually not true, erections don't work that way, and the fear of being found out is quite the boner killer. Also, what if you like guys, but the guys in the porno aren't your type? There's just so many ignorant misconceptions behind this idea.

I've also seen a lot of fan comments that keep playing into this ignorance; that the only reason Nils decided to stop the tradition was because he obviously failed it. Or that the only reason August is against it is because he failed, and the only reason he failed is because he's secretly not straight. No. Remember that the test doesn't work. Nils probably passed, despite actually being gay. August might have failed, despite being completely straight. Regardless of what happened, they both found it humiliating, and that is why they made a pact to stop it.

[raspberryslxt]

UNEXPECTED TURNS - PART 3

OBX X TVD FANFICTION

jj maybank x gilbert!reader x rafe cameron

-

The Outer Banks was full of secrets, and y/n could feel them pressing in on her from every direction. The Pogues had their treasure hunt, Rafe had his demons, and now even Elena seemed to be caught up in something back in Mystic Falls.

Y/n had thought coming to the OBX would be an escape, a chance to leave behind the pain of losing her parents and the suffocating weight of everything she’d been through. But here, the lines between right and wrong, trust and betrayal, were just as blurry—if not more so.

It was just past noon when y/n arrived at the Chateau, her bike skidding to a halt in the sandy driveway. She could hear the sound of raised voices before she even reached the porch, the Pogues clearly in the middle of another heated discussion.

“Are you guys always this dramatic?” she asked, stepping inside and letting the screen door slam behind her.

JJ was the first to look up, his signature grin spreading across his face. “There she is! Our honorary Pogue, here to save the day.”

“Save the day from what, exactly?” y/n asked, raising an eyebrow as she joined them around the table.

John B gestured to a crumpled piece of paper in the center. “We’ve got another lead on the Royal Merchant.”

“And by ‘lead,’ he means another half-baked idea that’s probably gonna get us all arrested,” Pope said, crossing his arms.

“Have a little faith, man,” JJ said, slapping Pope on the back before turning to y/n. “So, what do you say? You in?”

Y/n glanced at the map, then at the eager faces around her. She’d only known the Pogues for a short time, but their passion and loyalty were infectious.

“Of course I’m in,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Atta girl,” JJ said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. His touch lingered just a second too long, enough to send a jolt of electricity down her spine.

John B quickly outlined the plan, detailing how they’d need to sneak onto some private property to investigate a potential clue. Y/n couldn’t help but notice the way JJ kept glancing at her, his teasing remarks softer than usual, as if he was testing the waters.

“Y/n, you good with playing lookout?” John B asked.

“Sure,” she said, though she could feel JJ’s eyes on her again.

“I’ll keep her company,” JJ offered, flashing a grin that made her stomach flip.

Kiara rolled her eyes. “Of course you will.”

-

A few hours later, the Pogues and y/n found themselves crouched behind a row of bushes, the sprawling estate they needed to search looming ahead.

“Remind me why we always have to break the law for these plans?” y/n whispered, glancing nervously at the security cameras mounted along the fence.

“Because breaking the law is way more fun than following it,” JJ whispered back, his breath warm against her ear.

Y/n shot him a look, but she couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face.

The group split up, John B, Pope, and Kiara heading toward the main house while JJ and y/n stayed near the gate.

“So, what’s the story with you and the Camerons?” JJ asked after a few minutes of silence.

Y/n frowned, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” JJ said.

Y/n hesitated, unsure how to explain. “Ward offered to take me in after my parents died. He and my dad were friends.”

“Oh. You never told us your parents passed away, i’m sorry” JJ said.

”I don’t like speaking about my emotions”

„What about Rafe” JJ asked.

“What about him?” y/n asked, though her cheeks flushed at the mention of his name.

JJ smirked, leaning closer. “Don’t play dumb, y/n. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

Y/n opened her mouth to protest, but before she could respond, the sound of footsteps made them both freeze.

“Shit,” JJ muttered, grabbing her hand and pulling her behind a tree just as a security guard rounded the corner.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as they crouched together, JJ’s arm brushing against hers. When the guard finally moved on, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“You okay?” JJ asked, his voice unusually soft.

“Yeah,” y/n said, her pulse still racing. “Thanks.”

JJ grinned, his blue eyes sparkling. “Anytime, princess.”

-

That evening, y/n returned to the Cameron estate, her head still spinning from the day’s events. She was just about to head upstairs when Rafe appeared in the hallway, his expression unreadable.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

“Out,” y/n replied, brushing past him.

Rafe grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. “Out where?”

“Why do you care?” she shot back, pulling her arm free.

Rafe stared at her for a long moment, his jaw tightening. “You don’t belong with them, y/n. They’re not like us.”

“Us?” y/n repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Rafe, in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly fit into your perfect little Kook world.”

Rafe stepped closer, his gaze intense. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean you should be hanging out with Pogues.”

“Why do you even care?” y/n asked, her voice quieter now.

For a moment, Rafe didn’t answer. Then, he reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Because I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Y/n’s breath caught, her heart pounding as his fingers lingered against her cheek.

“Rafe…” she began, but before she could finish, he pulled away, his expression hardening.

“Just… think about what I said,” he muttered before walking away.

-

The next morning, y/n was sitting on the back porch, sipping her coffee and watching the waves, when Ward joined her.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the chair beside her.

“Sure,” y/n said, though she felt a pang of unease.

Ward settled into the chair, his gaze thoughtful. “I’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with John B and his friends.”

Y/n tensed, unsure where this was going. “Yeah. They’re nice.”

“They’re also trouble,” Ward said, his tone firm. “And I’d hate to see you get caught up in something dangerous.”

“I can take care of myself,” y/n said, her voice sharper than she intended.

Ward nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. “I know you can. But you’ve been through a lot, y/n. And I just want to make sure you’re not… losing your way.”

Y/n frowned, unsure how to respond.

-

That night, as y/n lay in bed, her phone buzzed.

“Elena?” she answered, sitting up.

“Y/n,” Elena said, her voice shaky.

“What’s wrong?” y/n asked, her stomach twisting with worry.

“I need you to come back,” Elena said, her words rushed. “Something’s… happened. I can’t explain it over the phone, but I need you here.”

“Elena, what’s going on?” y/n asked, her heart racing.

“Please,” Elena said, her voice breaking. “Just come home.”

Y/n hesitated, torn between the world she was starting to build in the Outer Banks and the life she’d left behind in Mystic Falls.

“I’ll think about it,” she said finally.

“Don’t think too long,” Elena replied before hanging up, leaving y/n alone with her thoughts and the weight of her sister’s words.

-

[minniethemoocherda]

Stars and Stripes and Suns

A/N: Merry Christmas @keferon! I could not stop thinking about your Jazzprowl Mecha Au! I am obsessed! And I could not stop myself from thinking how Sideswipe and Sunstreaker would fit into it! So feel free to ignore any of this for your own personal headcanons lol! It is your Au after all! I tried my best to fit this into the established au lore but there's a lot so I might've got some stuff wrong 😅. Anyway I hope you enjoy the fic! Xxxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

It had been a no brainer, back then.

Spend another stint in juvie or fight in a giant metal robot.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe hadn't even needed to share a look before they both said yes.

Shockwave had selected them specifically. Sunstreaker still didn't understand the science of it all but those early mecha that Shockwave built were too much for one brain to handle. However with him and Sideswipe not only being twins, but being identical down to their DNA, they were able to survive the neural load in a way that non of the scientists other test subjects had. Whenever he hocked them up they weren't Sunstreaker or Sideswipe or the mech anymore. They were just one.

Sure having their brains ripped apart and stuck back together over and over and over again hurt like shit. Still, Sunstreaker would take it over going back into foster care and being separated from his brother.

It helped that they were already a formidable pair of fighters, synched to each other's side in ways neither could explain that the neural link only made even closer. Sunstreaker could turn their left arm into a sword the same second Sideswipe stabbed it through a drone whilst both twisted their torso to gracefully glide over the electric fence Shockwave had flung at them.

And even when the aliens showed up, Sunstreaker couldn't complain. He knew he shouldn't, but he enjoyed cutting them up. He enjoyed the thrill of slicing the tentacles from their heads and their heads from their amalgamation of faces like they were cuts of meat. Having been told his whole that he would never amount to anything, Sunstreaker felt a sick sense of satisfaction that he had proved to the world that there was something he was good at.

Technically they had been working under Shockwave as an apprenticeship so whilst the tests themselves were shit the pay was even shitter. But they had their own room that they could decorate however they wanted. So Sunstreaker had covered his in paint from the window of the art shop they used to sleep outside of whilst Sideswipe built a wall out of every toy car he had ever wanted.

The pay got better when Swindle showed up with other pilots. And even more so when they were revealed to the public.

Sideswipe was a pro at talking to the press whilst Sunstreaker preferred to pose for the camera. As usual the pair perfectly balanced each other.

The only time they got into a true disagreement was over what colour the mech should. It had been grey originally but Swindle had wanted something distinct to put on posters. Sideswipe had voted for red whilst Sunstreaker wanted yellow. In the end Swindle settled it with a coin toss that Sunstreaker still wasn't convinced his brother hadn't bribed the result of. But at least his twin let him pick out the shade as Sunstreaker was not going to be seen in that gaudy cherry that Cliffjumper was somehow happy to walking around in. Instead opting for a shining crimson the same shade as blood.

They both decided on the name. They'd been calling it the Lambo anyway after the mech's resemblance to their favourite sports car. And after Swindle cleared it with their copyright team, it became official.

Sunstreaker wouldn't say that fighting the Quintessons was easy. And ultimately he'd rather countless amounts of people weren't dying due to the invasion.

But he couldn't deny that he enjoyed being a mech pilot. That he enjoyed the fame and freebies and fashion he finally had the freedom to afford. And that he and Sideswipe wouldn't have to worry about being starving or separated ever again.

Then as per usual, everything in their life went to shit.

Jazz disappeared. Then the base got blown up. Not that they had been aware, because they had been on the other side of the country, where for the first time, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe found themselves in a fight they could not win.

"Finally a fucking fight!" Sideswipe grinned, glaring up at the Quintesson ship the size of a city.

Sunstreaker had always known what his twin was thinking even before both their minds had melted into one. So he knew that under Sideswipe's bravado, his brother was scared shitless.

That didn't stop Sideswipe from smiling as they charged towards the ship.

With their shield, they blocked the incoming blasts, giving civilians time to escape whilst their sword slashed through the remaining fire.

Together, they were the perfect balance of stealth, speed and strength. And eventually, miraculously they actually made it within touching distance of the ship.

Out of the corner of his scope, Sunstreaker saw a Quintesson soldier strike. He didn't even have to think to ask before Sideswipe had slammed their shield into its neck. At the same time Sunstreaker soared themselves over the now dead soldier, striking the sword into the side of the ship. Sunstreaker felt the air shake as something inside it shrieked then blew up.

"Think we might actually succeed in shish-kebabing these shitheads!" Sideswipe smiled, surrounded in the smouldering embers of the burning alien spaceship.

Then a tentacle shot out of the ship, slamming into their side like a skyscraper. Sideswipe didn't even have time to scream. But Sunstreaker did as he experienced his brother's death. He screamed as his soul was stretched and squished and shattered between himself, his mech and his twin. He shot and sliced and screamed until something finally snapped and everything went black.

The next thing Sunstreaker knew was shouting. He opened his eyes, to see the blurred shape of grey and ginger hair next to his bed.

"He was a child!" The blur yelled and Sunstreaker belatedly recognised the voice as Ratchet even though their injuries hadn't been severe enough to see the head medical officer before now.

"Sunstreaker is twenty-one." Shockwave replied in his usual monotone, apparently unaffected by the fact that one of his pilots was now dead.

"And you've been fucking with his head since he was FIFTEEN!" Ratchet screamed. The entire med-bay silenced at the outburst, not even Shockwave daring to make a sound until Ratchet spoke again.

"Once I've fixed him up, I am done. I will not be apart of this anymore."

But Sunstreaker barely registered the words. All he felt was the emptiness of his brother being gone.

He had felt the feat and the pain and the nothing of his brother's death. He had experienced what no living human could and his head could not comprehend it. All it could do was hurt.

Shockwave had ordered him to pilot the Lambo again, to compare how it functioned with only one twin instead of the set. Sunstreaker tried to strangle him, only being held back by the combined force of Brawl, Blast-Off and Onslaught. Even Swindle told Shockwave to fuck off.

But in the end, Sunstreaker couldn't blame Shockwave for his brother's death. They had both signed up of their own free will after all.

Sunstreaker had been in it for the fight and for the fame. Sideswipe had been the one with heroics in his heart. It should have been him who had lived. He would have stayed because it was the right thing to do. Whilst Sunstreaker stuck around because he had nowhere else to go.

Blurr was still around, even more broken than before but still posing for the camera and doing PR. Sunstreaker couldn't do press anymore without his brother.

He couldn't do anything anymore with out his brother.

And if it weren't for the nothing that he knew was waiting for him that no one else could ever understand, then he would have joined his brother in death.

Stuck in stagnation, he did Shockwave's stupid experiments and signed his name on posters he couldn't even look at and tried and tried and tried mech after mech after mech. But he couldn't even sit in one without being sick, the melding of his mind with the mechs making his skull split in half. Each day bled into the other until eventually Swindle came to see him.

"Look kid, I know you don't want to hear this and I hate to he the one to tell ya. But we've tried every pilot we got left and the Lambo ain't working for anyone. So if you don't give it a go, then I got no excuses left to not strip it for scraps."

So Sunstreaker forced his feet into the hanger he hadn't been in since the day his brother died.

They had repaired the Lambo's right side. It's crimson coat as clean as the day Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had spent painting it.

Sunstreaker touched the tips of it's pedes. For some reason, he had been expecting it to be cold. But it felt as warm as before, the thumping pump of machinery pulsing away underneath the metal.

Something snapped inside Sunstreaker's head. But instead of it all falling apart, it felt like the pieces of a picture snapping into place.

Sunstreaker could not save his brother. He might not be able to save the Lambo either. But he had to try.

Besides the single chair, the cockpit was the same as ever. Someone had even kept their stickers.

Sunstreaker hocked himself up to the neural net and instead of being sick all he felt was a sense of serenity. Suddenly the pain in his head was gone, replaced with the sound of Sideswipe's voice that snorted "Took you long enough."

[chacharealsmoothwithme]

I'm gonna give u my black brothers hc because i have no one else to share them with:

-they both have a resting bitch face. pure dead stare.

-sarcastic little shits

-sirius face is completely "blank"while regulus has so many freckles

-they both have grey eyes and they don't like change with the light or anything,at best they become darker during thunderstorms

-sirius listens to glam rock and classic rock while regulus listens to indie and rap(not the cringe kind obv)

-sirius wears moon/star earings while reg has sun/star ones,the stars were the same pair they split it

-they don't like spending money but it's because they think they don't need anything (they feel like they're aren't enough to buy stuff for themselves) but they also feel guilty about that because they know they have the money

-sirius is nonbinary/genderfluid and just lives dressing badass,clothes don't have gender

-regulus is trans and feels euphoric wearing evans' shirts because he's like MANLY MAN!1! so yk, (evan is not that but shh)

-they both did ballet and fencing(muggle au)

-they were taught: piano,violin,transverse flute, they also took individual singing lessons and were part of the church's choir

-sirius learned on his own to play the guitar (classic and electric)

-and then he taught reg how to play it

-reg learned on his own how to play the bass and the drums

-they are spooked by the sea but find it fascinating

-sirius had to take his drivers license test twice bc there was a deer in the street and he thought it was prongs (when they told him he pretended it wasn't him but it actually was(moon's idea)) (sirius still thinks it wasn't him)

-regulus loves to drive Sirius' bike and every time he comes back from a ride he pretends to have scratched it by accident and sirius believes him every time

-i almost forgot,sirius has wavy hair while reg's is very curly

-[this is the second thing I'm adding sorry]

they speak: english,french,italian,japanese,german

they also know:latin, ancient greek,and old japanese,plus ancient runes

[fencefacts1]

DIY Methods to Test Electric Fences

Electric fences are vital for protecting your property, but they need regular testing to ensure they’re in top-notch condition. From checking voltage to locating faults, here’s how to test your electric fence effectively.

Before diving into testing methods, let’s understand why it’s crucial. An electric fence acts as a barrier, deterring intruders or animals from entering your property. However, factors like grounding issues, short circuits, or wiring problems can compromise its effectiveness. Regular testing ensures it’s working optimally, providing reliable security.

Tools You’ll Need

You’ll need specific tools to test your electric fence accurately:

Electric fence tester is designed to precisely measure fence output power.

Non-contact voltage tester is widely used for voltage testing, ideal for quick checks.

Screwdriver sparks when touched to live fence wires.

Compass detects magnetic field irregularities caused by electric current.

Indicator light or bulb glows when connected to live wires indicating power.

Multimeter, while not ideal, it can measure voltage and current if no other option is available.

Electric fence fault finder helps measure power & locate faults like short circuits quickly.

Testing Methods

Testing the Energizer: Start by checking if the energizer is outputting power. Take a screwdriver & touch it both output terminals of the energizer and there should be spark if the energizer is outputting power. Same as you can you can test fence wires by touching the screwdriver.

Testing fence with Grass: This simple DIY methods involve using grass to check for electric current. Hold a piece of grass against the fence; if you feel a light pulse, it’s charged.

Using Electric Testers: Non-contact voltage testers or electric testers indicates power in fences with glowing bulbs. Simply touch them to the fence, and they’ll glow, if there’s power in fence.

Using a Compass: A compass can detect magnetic field irregularities near the fence, indicating the presence of electric current. Just take it near the charged fence wires & the needles should move.

Indicator Lights or Bulbs: Connect an indicator light or bulb to the fence; if it lights up, there’s power.

Electric Fence Tester: The most accurate method involves using a dedicated electric fence tester. Connect the tester’s probes to the fence and ground, and it will display voltage readings.

Multimeter Testing: While not ideal, a multimeter can measure voltage and current. Set it to DC mode, connect the probes, and measure the values.

Electric Fence Fault Finder: If you suspect a fault, use a fault finder to locate it quickly. Follow the device’s instructions to identify and fix the issue.

Conclusion

Regular testing is essential for ensuring your electric fence functions correctly. By using the right tools and methods, you can quickly identify any issues and address them promptly. Protect your property effectively by testing your electric fence regularly.

Reference: https://fencefacts.com/test-electric-fence/

[primatechnosynthpop]

Losing My Mind In This Isolation- Part 3 of 3

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Ryan stirred at the creak of his cot shifting under additional weight. Pushing through the sickly-sweet cloud of drowsiness he'd spent the past few days lost in, he forced his eyes open and raised his head the few inches he could manage. The spots dancing in his vision didn't go away, but the blur before him gradually sharpened into someone sitting on his cot with a tray in their lap. A familiar person.

"Kev--" he started, voice rusty, then broke off with a a cough and shook his head. "No. Not Kevin. You..."

To his meager credit, the scientist didn't bother trying to string him along this time. He just laughed humorously, scooped a smear of gray paste off the tray with a plastic fork, and shoved it in Ryan's mouth. Ryan gagged at the taste and texture, but the scientist didn't remove the fork until he swallowed. It hurt his throat going down.

"You're a sick freak, 09, you know that? If it were up to me I'd have you put down already for what you did. Instead I have to keep you alive while my bosses decide what to do with you." The scientist paused as he served Ryan another mouthful, looking down at him with sheer disgust. "They'll probably decide to put you down anyway. I hope they let me do it."

Ryan said nothing. His throat was still too tender to speak, and his head remained too cloudy to formulate a good response anyway. Each forkful of slop made his stomach curl in on itself in displeasure, and he wouldn't be surprised if it came back up later. If so, he doubted anyone would come by to hose down his cell. The residual stickiness of days-old dried blood still clung in patches to his skin. All he remembered since his last test were the occasional snatch of disdainful words and needles pushing into his skin.

When the tray was empty, the scientist drew out a syringe. "At least in the meantime I can knock you out," he muttered as he pumped the contents into Ryan's thigh. "Maybe if I 'accidentally' give you enough you won't wake up."

***

Kevin eyed the concrete building warily as they approached, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. "So this is the place, huh?"

"According to the map Lauren gave me, it must be," Neil replied. He gestured emphatically with the map in question, which showed the larger Plymouth County area with a route drawn in sharpie from the warehouse they'd gone to earlier that week, out past city limits to this place. Supposedly the woman Neil met had found it in the pocket of a jacket someone left lying around. "There's no other buildings around for acres."

That was true, and rather unnecessary to say aloud since Kevin had spent the last two hours driving there down a winding series of country roads. Dense forest boxed them in on every side. The building itself was nearly featureless, with no signage and no visible doors in the front, and surrounded by an electric fence with blinking cameras mounted atop and a bored-looking guard standing at the gate. Past the fence, he could make out a parking lot with at least a dozen cars gleaming in the mid-morning sun. Bushes grew flush against the building's other side.

Kevin pulled over to the unpaved shoulder of the road and took the keys out of the ignition. Neil opened the glovebox to put away the map and took out a surgical mask and goggles which he fastened over his face. He then grabbed two labcoats out of the backseat, one of which he shrugged on while the other went to Kevin. They'd used these same costumes for their medical drama webisode a month ago-- funny how much higher the stakes had gotten since then. The coats and Neil's accessories were cheaply made, but hopefully realistic enough to fool the staff so long as nobody stopped to take a close look.

The guard came to intercept their approach and motioned for Kevin to roll the window down. "You're late." It sounded like a neutral statement, not necessarily tinged with suspicion.

"I know, sorry. I just had to circle back to pick up the new hire..." Kevin reached over to pat Neil on the shoulder with a chuckle that he hoped sounded natural. "His car broke down and, y'know, it's not like we can catch a bus to work."

To his relief, the guard let out a soft huff of amusement at that. "Or call a taxi," they added with a smirk. "Unless we wanted to assassinate the driver afterward."

"Right, yeah!" Kevin forced himself to laugh despite how hard his heart was pounding. His gaze flickered to the side mirror, where he could see Neil furtively ducking down to pull something out from under the seat and slip it up his sleeve. "...So, can we just come right in-- uh, like normal?"

The guard nodded and walked to a panel on the fence where they dialed a combination on a keypad. The gate parted with a creak and they drove on through.

The parking lot was modestly sized, with almost no open spaces save for a handicapped spot which Kevin didn't feel too bad for stealing in this case. Another guard was posted outside the double doors at the back of the building. Kevin's eyebrows shot up his forehead. Even after seeing the evidence with the first guard letting them in, the whole doppelganger thing was a little hard to believe, but it really was like looking in a mirror. Neil, apparently noting Kevin's stunned reaction, crossed his arms and remarked "I told you so."

Lucky for them, the guard seemed too preoccupied scrolling on his phone to notice that his identical double had just pulled up. Neil crept out of the car and tiptoed over to tap the guard on the shoulder. They started talking and Neil pointed toward the bushes that edged the property. Kevin couldn't hear their exchange from inside the car, where he shrank low in his seat in case the employee happened to look over, but Neil led the guard past the treeline and then a few seconds later popped out to wave his arms in an okay signal. That bottle of chloroform sure was a good investment.

By the time Kevin jogged over to where his double was sprawled unconscious in the underbrush, Neil was already searching his pockets. "Check it out," he whispered. "This guy's got a gun!"

"Woah, cool!" Kevin took the weapon and lifted it experimentally up and down, dazzled by its weight in his hands. He shook his head to snap himself out of the trance; this wasn't the time to get sidetracked. "What about something we can use to get in?"

There were keys, but the locked doors didn't have a keyhole, just a number pad like the one on the gate. Kevin frowned as he patted his unconscious double down. Medicine bottle; syringes... doesn't this guy carry anything useful? Then he pulled out a badge with photo ID of his doppelganger emblazoned with the Von Reuter Psychic Institute logo. Ah-hah... That might come in handy. He tucked it away in the breast pocket of his flannel with a couple pats to make sure it was secure.

"I think this is it," Neil announced. He held up a crumpled sheet with what looked like a map of the building on one side and numbers scrawled on the other. Neil set the paper down on the grass and smoothed it out before pointing to a spot on the map. "See, this is where we are, and then..." He traced a finger to a point circled in smudged red ink, which he tapped vigorously. "That must be where they're keeping Ryan."

"Let me see that." Kevin took the paper and turned it over to try and make sense of the numbers. Two strings of digits at the top were labeled "gate" and "door", followed by a series of crossed out numbers going from "01" to "08". The last number, labeled "09", wasn't crossed out but had an angry face drawn next to it. Kevin chewed the inside of his cheek. "...You think these are codes?"

"Probably," Neil agreed. "Let's try the one that says 'door'. I bet that one works..." He paused as if for dramatic emphasis, only to shrug as he lamely concluded: "On the door."

It was a good guess. The light on the keypad turned green when Kevin entered the combination, and the door slid open with a beep. He exchanged one last apprehensive glance with Neil before they filed inside.

The inside of the building was as unremarkable as the outside. Gray floors; white walls; unmarked doors... as they wandered down a long corridor, Kevin found himself staring at each door they passed. Was Ryan locked away behind this or that one? How would they know? Sure, Neil thought that red circle on the map was the answer, but that could just as easily have been the breakroom. Soon the hall split off in four different directions, and Kevin came to a stop and laid a hand on Neil's wrist so he'd stop too.

"Maybe we should split up," he whispered. He hoped Neil couldn't tell, but his heart was hammering so loud he was afraid the staff here would hear it.

Neil shook his head. "Bad idea," he replied, voice muffled by the mask. Then he perked up and pointed. "Hey, here comes somebody! They'll know if we're going the right way."

Sure enough, a tall older woman in a labcoat was coming down the hall at a clipped pace with a stack of papers held to her chest. She paused to exchange a nod with Kevin, then stopped, brow furrowing, when her gaze landed on Neil. Before she could ask, Kevin stepped forward with a hand on Neil's shoulder in a silent "don't worry, I've got this".

"Just showing the new hire around the place. Poor guy got some nasty burns in a lab accident, so he has to keep his face covered up. Uh, I was hoping I could show him where we keep Ryan Murphy," he added before the woman could ask any follow-up questions. "Is that okay?"

The woman stared at them for a long moment, and Kevin fought to keep his casual smile in place while cold sweat ran down his back. Keep it cool, he told himself. If all else fails, you've got a gun.

"Oh, you mean 09," she said finally. She shrugged and angled her head down the hallway to their left. "It's probably sleeping, but knock yourselves out. It might be your last day to see it alive, from what I've heard."

Kevin's blood ran cold at her casual words. Neil, whose disguise must have made it easier to keep up the act, moved in front to block the employee's view of his horrified gaping.

"So, uh, he was showing me this map, but I don't know if I trust his directions--" Neil snatched the map from Kevin's hands and showed it to the employee-- "It's this red circle, right?"

The employee nodded. "Be careful," she added as they rounded the corner. "If it wakes up, you'll want to have a sedative prepped."

"Thanks," Neil called over his shoulder. Once they were several metres down the hall, he dropped character and wrapped his arms around himself with a shudder. "Did you hear that?" he asked in a whisper barely audible through his mask. "If we don't get Ryan out of here today..."

Kevin nodded grimly. "Yeah. We won't get another chance."

With that ultimatum hanging heavy, he picked up the pace. All the identical doors passed by in a blur. Then they turned another corner and the doors started having little slots in them. Neil's pace slowed and he crouched in front of the nearest door, raising his goggles to peer through the slot.

"It's an empty cell," he reported after a moment. "Looks like some kind of weird stains on the floor. I hope wherever Ryan's staying isn't that gross."

The placement of the circle on the map wasn't exact enough to help them anymore, so from there it became a tedious game of crouching down to peer through every door in the hall. Neil made the process harder for himself by putting his goggles back on and taking them off again in between every door. Kevin's back protested against all the bending over; he mentally chided his spine for its slacker attitude. Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably about ten minutes, he found a cell whose cot was inhabited by a figure in a hospital gown.

Even though that was what they were looking for, Kevin jumped at the sight. The pale shape lying there facing the wall, long brown hair dangling off the edge of the cot... it looked like a ghost in a horror movie. From this distance, even when he squinted he couldn't tell if the figure was breathing.

"Neil." His voice came out hoarse, too low to get his friend's attention; he swallowed down the heart that was trying to jump up his throat and tried again. "Neil, I think I found him."

Neil hung back, eyes no doubt wide behind those opaque goggles, as Kevin dialed in the code labeled "09" and tentatively pushed the door open. With the tension so high, it felt like the door should creak or an alarm should immediately start blaring, but instead they were met with silence. Upon taking a deep breath Kevin coughed at the odour that hung in the air-- his first thought was that it smelled like death, but he banished that word with a shake of his head. Neil closed the door behind them and they tiptoed to the cot.

If getting a glimpse through the door was scary, seeing the state of Ryan up close was a waking nightmare. Bandages and bruises littered his skin, whose overall complexion was almost waxen compared to the shade it bore when he was healthy. Clumps of dried blood matted his hair and beard, which had grown in thicker but more uneven than Ryan would have let it get normally. His face was gaunt, and his entire frame seemed to have shrunk beneath the ratty hospital gown he wore. Kevin sunk to his knees, throat clenching, and tried to hold back the tears blurring his vision. Even this close, he couldn't tell...

"Ryan..." He ran a shaking hand over his friend's head only to grimace at the texture of his hair, and instead settled for cupping his cheek. Neil pressed two fingers against Ryan's neck, right under a thin purplish bruise that ran across lengthwise, but Kevin didn't take his eyes off Ryan to see what verdict Neil gave. He was scared to know. What started as rubbing circles with his thumb quickly escalated into frantically slapping Ryan's cheek, praying for some flush to appear. Any sign of life. "C'mon, bud, please... don't do this to us."

Ryan's eyes snapped open.

They were wild, bloodshot, and their intensity only made the dark circles around them more pronounced. But they were open. Kevin choked back a sob of pure joy. He grabbed Ryan and pulled him in--

Ryan's arms braced against him. Before Kevin knew what was going on, Ryan's head snapped back and his mouth parted as though in a silent scream.

GET AWAY

The words weren't spoken aloud, but they went off like a nuclear bomb in Kevin's head. He clamped his hands over his ears and fell to his knees screaming in agony.

***

Neil's gaze whipped between Kevin sinking to the floor and Ryan, almost lifeless a moment ago, now bolt upright and spasming like he had on TV. Somehow it was even worse to watch in person. Neil wasn't sure if that was the only source of the dizzying nausea that washed over him, or if it came from the same psychic force that had Kevin debilitated. Either way, this was no good.

"Stop it, Ryan!" Neil cried, grabbing his friend's shoulders and trying to hold him still to little avail. "It's us! We're here to rescue you."

Ryan didn't react. His lips moved, repeating a message: "Get away from me". His eyes weren't rolled back this time, but they seemed to look right through him, which was almost worse. Gulping, Neil glanced at the surveillance camera mounted overhead. Its blinking red dot stared back in a silent challenge. He took a deep breath and removed his goggles, then lowered the surgical mask from his face.

"It's me," he whispered, grasping Ryan's head and holding it steady so they were eye-to-eye. He felt the veins on Ryan's forehead pulsing under the pads of his thumbs and tried not to shudder at the sensation.

For a moment there was no reaction. Neil could see himself reflected in Ryan's dilated pupils, and behind him, Kevin thrashing on the floor. Neil gulped and tried not to pay attention to his friend's bloodcurdling screams. He got the feeling there was nothing he could do besides stop it at the source.

After an agonizing delay, Ryan's convulsions slowed to a stop and the haze cleared from his eyes. On the floor behind Neil, Kevin rolled over with a groan. For a moment Ryan and Neil simply stared at each other, the latter breathless while the former's chest heaved, tears welling up in both their eyes. Then Ryan surged forward and buried his face in Neil's chest with a loud sob.

Crouching on those grody tiles, his friend's alarmingly frail hands clutching hard enough to rip his flimsy labcoat costume, Neil recalled another time not so long ago that he'd come to Ryan's rescue. Back then he'd leaned away from his friend's embrace, not wanting to get wet. The dried blood and who knew what else that streaked Ryan's face now was a lot worse than a bit of cold water, but that didn't matter. Their weeks of separation left a wound in Neil's heart that still ached even as he wrapped an arm around Ryan's back to hold him close and brought the other hand up to cradle his head.

"Neil," Ryan's voice came weakly from amid the folds of the labcoat. "You're really here?"

Neil nodded with a teary smile he knew Ryan wouldn't see from his angle. "We're here to take you home," he whispered against the crown of Ryan's head. After a beat, he smoothed out a relatively less dirty patch of hair and pressed his lips there in reassurance.

"Hah!" Something like a triumphant laugh burst from Ryan, and the sound made Neil's chest swell with hope even when it quickly dissolved into more tears. "I knew it. I knew you were real. They tried to tell me I made you up, but... but I didn't believe them... I knew..."

He trailed off at the end like he wasn't sure if those words were true. Neil's gut clenched with renewed rage at the institute and sorrow for his friend. He and Ryan held each other tighter and rocked lightly back and forth in place, Neil stroking Ryan's back while he wept.

Kevin sat up, rubbing his head. He lowered a hand from his ear and it came away with a smear of blood that he grimaced at and wiped off on his pant leg before reaching out to lay a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Glad you're okay, Ryan," he said. "Don't ever do that again, you hear?"

Neil wasn't sure if that meant making them worry he was dead or the psychic blast thing. Either way, Ryan flinched away from Kevin's touch, clinging tighter to Neil with a whimper. Neil frowned and gave Ryan a couple pats on the back.

"Hey, c'mon, it's just Kevin. I couldn't have gotten here without him."

Ryan shook his head and hid his face in Neil's shoulder. Tremors wracked his body; when Neil ran a comforting hand up and down Ryan's arm he felt goosebumps. Sighing, Neil motioned for Kevin to stand back as he helped Ryan get to his feet. Whatever trauma Ryan had (and come to think of it, he bet that doppelganger was to blame) working through it would have to wait until they got home. He turned and pushed the door open--

And came face-to-face with the barrel of a gun.

Half a dozen scientists blocked their path, half of them with guns drawn and the rest poised to draw if needed. Among them was the woman they'd seen in the hall earlier. Neil gulped and took a step back. He curled his arms protectively around Ryan, who shook like a leaf and let out a plaintive little warble, as though to hide him from the VRPI employees' cold stares.

"Uh-- um," he stammered despite knowing full well it was pointless, "I was just..."

Five gunshots rang out in quick succession. Neil shrieked. He instinctively dropped to the ground and pulled Ryan down with him, and the two clutched each other hard enough to bruise, eyes wrenched shut, until silence fell over the cell and Neil realized with slow-dawning relief that despite his labcoat sporting a fresh spattering of crimson, he and Ryan didn't have a single bullet hole between them. He looked up to see Kevin holding a smoking gun, breathing heavily and staring straight ahead with a haunted look in his eyes.

The scientists lay sprawled in a tangle of bloodied limbs. An alarm's shrill cry filled the hall. Kevin looked down at Neil and Ryan, exchanged a slight shaky nod with Neil to confirm they were alright, then tucked the still-smoking gun back in his pocket and jerked his head toward the door.

"C'mon, we've gotta go."

Ryan was too weak to run very well, and he still refused to let Kevin touch him, so it fell on Neil to hoist his friend into a clumsy piggyback ride. Ryan's weight slowed him down, and they lagged several paces behind Kevin, who sprinted down the network of identical halls at an appropriate speed for someone who'd just shot several of that building's staff. The gap between them only widened with each turn. By the time Neil rounded the final corner to see the door at the end of the hall, Kevin was already slamming a fist against the wall and shouting curses.

"The combination doesn't work," he explained when Neil and Ryan caught up, angrily waving the map crumpled in his fist. "None of them do."

"They must have disabled it when they figured out we're intruders," Neil realized. He let Ryan slide down so his feet were on the floor, though he continued to lean against Neil's back and cling to him for support. Gaze shifting to his friend, he asked: "Ryan, is there another way out of here?"

"I don't know."

"No, I mean..." Neil bit his lip. He hated to do this after what Ryan had been through, but... "Can you find out? With your powers?"

"...Oh. Right."

The hollow note of disappointment in Ryan's tone only drove the stake of guilt further into Neil's heart, but he slowly nodded. Ryan's eyes fluttered shut and began flicking rapidly beneath his eyelids. His head tilted back, then jerked suddenly to the side. Neil held him upright when the spasms overtook his body and wished with an awful clenching in his gut that it didn't have to be this way.

"Y-yes," he rasped. A tiny red droplet formed at the base of his nostril and Neil tried to thumb it away but just ended up smearing it across his face. "There's an emergency exit... on the roof."

"Okay!" Kevin clapped his hands together, glanced back at the map, and pointed down a hall which he then took off down at a sprint. "Stairs are this way!"

Ryan sagged against Neil with a wheeze. Neil stumbled back at the full force of his weight, then managed to hook his arms around his friend to hold him up and get a good look at him. Ryan's eyes were glazed and his breaths came as shallow pants. Checking his pulse revealed an elevated heartbeat. Neil pursed his lips. How could Ryan make dozens of far-flung predictions a night only to collapse from divining the layout of the building they were in? Something didn't add up... His eyes traced over all the little bandages-- all located around where veins would be-- and he got a sinking feeling about what this institute might have been up to.

His thoughts were interrupted by gunfire. Neil's head snapped up to see Kevin doubling back in a hurry, arms thrown over his head like that would provide much cover from the small army of armed scientists rounding the corner after him. Neil sprung to his feet with a yelp and practically threw Ryan at Kevin, who hoisted him over one shoulder in a way that made it look easy. Luckily (well, not luckily, but--) Ryan seemed to be unconscious and thus couldn't protest to Kevin handling him. Any previous heroic stoicism gave way to panicked wailing as they scrambled down the halls, the map's directions forgotten, just swerving any direction they didn't hear footsteps.

Somehow they made it to a stairwell. Bullets pinged off the door just as Kevin locked it shut behind them. When they burst out onto the roof Neil dropped to his knees, panting, and stripped his labcoat off-- he was sweating like a pig under that thing. The warm air clung to his skin, only eased by a light breeze. Kevin walked to the edge of the roof, where he set Ryan down and draped his own labcoat over him like a blanket. He stretched and wiped sweat from his brow before peering over the edge to assess the drop.

"Doesn't look like too far down," he reported. "We should be able to-- uh."

Neil was about to ask why Kevin had cut himself off, but didn't get the chance before the answer became all too obvious. A shot rang out from below. Neil gasped and ducked instinctively. Kevin fell back to skid across the rough tiling of the rooftop before coming to a stop between Neil and Ryan with a smoking bullet hole in his chest.

***

There was a strange sensation on Ryan's skin. Gradually he realized it was the warmth of the sun. And that other, more subtle feeling-- that was a breeze tickling his arms; making his hairs stand on end. Shifting somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, he wondered if he were still in his cell merely dreaming of rescue. He'd think so if the sensations didn't seem so real. His non-prophetic dreams hadn't been so vivid, and in fact had been quite scarce since coming to the institute. But now he could hear leaves rustling, insects buzzing, and birds chirping in the trees. He could smell something like asphalt, and above that make out notes of tree sap. But there was another scent closer by; enveloping him. One that was warm and familiar.

BANG!

Ryan's eyes snapped open at the gunshot. He jolted upright just in time to watch Kevin skid across the roof. Sitting up so fast made all the blood rush to Ryan's head and for a moment he thought he was seeing things. But when the stars cleared from his vision nothing changed save for the dust settling around the supine form.

"I guess that was the famous Kevin I kept getting mistaken for? Gotta say, didn't really live up to the hype."

Ryan's blood ran cold at the smug voice coming from below. The words were barely decipherable, chopped up by the breeze, but he'd know that voice anywhere. It belonged to the man who lay sprawled on his back with smoke trailing off his chest. But he wasn't speaking. It was someone else. A distinct entity. (He'd known that. He'd known all along. So why...?)

"I know you're up there, 09," the doppelganger went on. "Or should I call you Mr. Murphy, since you're such an entitled celebrity?"

A muffled boom and metallic crash echoed from within the building. Ryan looked back at the rooftop door with a shudder. He didn't have to use his powers to know the VRPI staff were coming. A few feet away, Neil's gaze whipped back and forth between the door and the edge of the roof with his face twisting into a look of deeper and deeper dismay, body tense like he wanted to jump up and run and yet remaining anchored in place.

"It won't be long before my bosses break that door down," that leering voice continued. When Ryan crawled a few paces to the edge he could see him standing by the treeline with leaves stuck in his hair. Any other time he might have laughed at the visual. Instead his chest tightened with such rage he could hardly breathe. "Why don't you come down here and maybe your other buddy won't have to get blown away too?"

Ryan's shoulders shook. That man down there-- how could he ever think-- how could he have let that bastard's existence cloud his judgement? His fists curled into the labcoat that lay abandoned at his feet; he clutched it to his chest and buried his face in it. The scent that clung to that coat, flannel and motor oil and grass stains, was one the VRPI employee who electrocuted him and talked about wanting to euthanize him didn't have.

Hot tears began to roll down his cheeks, washing away the dried blood that had stayed there for days. A trembling hand reached into the pocket of the labcoat and curled around sleek metal still warm from its last use. (Were the hands that had fired it still warm, or had the body already gone cold?) In his periphery he vaguely registered Neil running to Kevin's side, shaking him and shouting his name. Ryan took a shuddering breath. He rose slowly to his feet, legs shaking beneath him, and fired a hole through the doppelganger's face.

No sense of catharsis came when he watched the scientist crumple to the ground. The thuds against the door were getting louder and the metal was beginning to groan. Ryan pressed the trigger again and only got clicks-- out of ammo already. He kept pressing anyway and spat out a string of incoherent curses at the corpse on the ground. Better than turning to face the identical corpse behind him.

Neil ran up and grabbed Ryan's arm. "Ryan, it's alright! That's enough."

"But..." Ryan's lip wobbled. His arm went slack in Neil's grip and the gun slipped from his fingers. It bounced off the edge of the roof and fell to the ground next to the body it had originally been issued to. "But... K-Kevin..."

"It's alright," Neil repeated more firmly, sliding his hand around Ryan's wrist.

He stepped back, and Ryan didn't want to look but he did anyway. Kevin was still lying there, but-- Ryan's heart skipped a beat-- he was stirring. With a groan he slowly raised his head and propped himself up on one elbow to glance blearily around, only to wince and clutch his chest. Ryan watched, breathless, as Neil knelt beside Kevin and helped him sit up. He didn't understand until Kevin pulled something out of the tatters of his shirt pocket: a VRPI ID badge with a bullet embedded in it.

"Huh," he remarked. "I thought this thing might come in handy."

At that a teary laugh spilled from Ryan's lips and he dropped to his knees to give Kevin the embrace he'd denied him earlier. "I can't believe you," he sniffed. "Lecturing me for making you worry and then pulling a stunt like that..." He buried his face in the crook of Kevin's neck. "You big dummy."

"Heh..." Kevin pulled back to flash Ryan a lopsided sheepish smile, hands resting on his arms with their foreheads just touching. "Guess that makes us even."

The hinges of the door gave a warning creak as it began to buckle. Neil grabbed Ryan and Kevin's hands and helped them to their feet, and they exchanged a glance of confirmation before running to the edge of the roof and leaping off.

The door crashed down and a round of gunfire rang out across the roof just as they landed in the bushes surrounding the property. It was a rough landing; twigs snagged Ryan's already frayed hospital gown and opened a few fresh gashes on his skin, and a jolt of pain shot up his legs when his feet came down. He crouched on his belly amid the leaves and held his breath while the scientists on the roof barked orders to each other. It was hard to stay still when the heart-pounding adrenaline told him to get up and run, but if he closed his eyes his mind would burst with unwanted visions of getting gunned down. To his side, his friends exchanged urgent words in hushed tones.

"So what now?"

"I don't know. If they locked the place down, the gate is probably closed... I'm not sure I'd have time to hack it."

"No kidding, and that's if we even make it to the car. Guess we're not driving out." A beat as Kevin sighed. "I really liked that car..."

Neil patted him on the arm. "Don't worry; we'll save up to buy you another one."

"Then we'll have to flee through the woods on foot," Ryan interjected. "I should be able to navigate... it might be hard, but I'll do anything to get out of here."

And so, as soon as the footsteps receded from the roof, they burst from the foliage and sprinted for the treeline. Moments later, the door at the back of the building slammed open and another stream of scientists poured out. Bullets tore through trees and sprayed wooden shrapnel inches from Ryan's face. His ears rang from their proximity. He didn't dare pause to check if his friends were alright when he heard Neil shriek. He hoped, desperately, that they'd all make it out. But spending another hour at that facility simply wasn't an option. He was going home.

He wasn't sure how long they ran until he realized the gunfire had stopped. There was no one else running or shouting after them; only three sets of footsteps crunching the ground and three sets of lungs gasping for breath. Ryan staggered to a stop and slumped against the nearest tree, chest heaving. The bark was rough against his skin; he dug his fingers into it and rested his forehead against a cool patch of moss. His throat burned for water. His legs were on the verge of collapsing into jelly. Now that he was out in nature it fully hit him how disgusting he must have looked and smelled after giving up on hygiene toward the end of his stay. Still, even as he panted to fill his aching lungs, he couldn't stop a grin from spreading over his face. They'd done it. He was free.

***

The next few days were rough. The rest of their trek through the woods was a slog, and once they made it back into city limits Kevin insisted they bring Ryan to a hospital (but scoffed when Neil suggested he should get his chest wound checked out while they were there). There, all the needles and surgical attire sent Ryan into near-constant bouts of panic thinking he was still at the institute. At least the beds were more comfortable and the food, while by no means good, was a marked improvement. They had jello. He never got that at the VRPI.

No longer being sedated on a daily basis made him moody and restless, which only compounded the more physical withdrawal symptoms from the sedatives. He spent many sleepless sweat-soaked nights thrashing and clutching his stomach, positive he wouldn't survive. But he'd wake up the next day and pale sunlight would be filtering through the curtains, and if he was lucky, one or both of his friends would be waiting at his bedside to brush his hair back and give him an encouraging smile.

One evening, while Ryan sat up in bed slowly chewing a watery vegetable mix he'd hesitate to call soup, the muted TV mounted above his bed transitioned from a vacuum cleaner infomercial to jarringly familiar grainy footage of a long-haired man in a black suit. The sight made Ryan's stomach clench and the spoon clattered from his hand onto the plastic tray, though it took several long seconds to consciously register that he was looking at himself.

"For the past several weeks, the world was dazzled by the psychic predictions of local amateur filmmaker Ryan Murphy," the subtitles read. "Now, after only three short episodes, the world says goodbye to this rising star too soon. The Von Reuter Psychic Institute reported that Murphy died last Sunday of an overdose..."

Staring up at those words, layered over a clip show of footage he barely remembered filming, Ryan's stomach churned. For a moment he found himself wondering if it was true. Was he dead? Was this all a dream? Who was he?

A nurse stepped into the room. She had dark hair in a bun and glasses-- Ryan's heart skipped a beat. It was that woman from the facility. He scrambled back, spilling soup all over the blankets in the process, only for his back to quickly bump against the wall. The machines he was hooked up to beeped fast and shrill as though in warning. Was that an alarm going off? Oh, god, the VRPI had caught them and they'd all be shot...

"Mr. Murphy? ...Oh, dear." It was a different voice. A different person. Of course-- Ryan had killed the scientist he mistook this nurse for, hadn't he? He wasn't sure whether to be comforted by that thought. The nurse grabbed the remote off the bedside table and shut the TV off before kneeling down to wipe up the spilled soup. "I don't know what on earth that broadcast was, but you're safe here, Ryan," she told him firmly. "Just breathe."

Ryan gave a shaky nod and did his best to follow the direction. On the now blank TV screen he could see his present state reflected. He still had a few bandages, and he'd have bruises on his hands for a while yet thanks to the IVs, but most of his other marks were fading. He was clean, his hair and beard had gotten a trim, and he was slowly regaining weight. Though he could still feel the phantom sting of injections dancing over his skin, rubbing his hands slowly up and down his arms found no new marks. He was solid; present. Slow but sure, he was breathing. Now he just had to keep doing that.

***

"I can't believe after all that they just decided to fake your death," Neil muttered, shaking his head at the video playing on his laptop screen. Ryan was finally home, and they were gathered on the couch in their clubhouse like nothing had changed at all, stomachs full from a home-cooked breakfast. "I guess I'm glad they're not still trying to go after you, but..."

"That might be because I'm not their only psychic," Ryan said quietly, more to himself than to his friends. The remark clearly got their attention, though, so he lifted up his hair to show them. The number on his neck was one scar that wouldn't fade for a long time; he didn't wear ponytails so much these days. "I think this means I was the ninth."

"Good god..." Kevin traced a hand over the brand with a shudder; the brush of his fingertips was mildly ticklish. "That must have hurt."

"Actually, I don't remember if it did," Ryan said with a shrug, releasing his hair so it fell back in place over the brand. "I was pretty drugged up for all the invasive medical procedures. Most of what I actually remember is just sitting around in my cell."

He told them that in an attempt to lift the mood, but it seemed to have the opposite effect, as his friends now looked vaguely ill. "Still, it all sounds pretty horrible," Neil ventured, laying a hand on Ryan's knee. "I wish we could have gotten you out sooner."

"Oh, me too," Ryan chuckled.

The exchange left an uneasy silence hanging over them, which was just what Ryan didn't want. He was just glancing around in search of a change in subject when Neil's laptop chimed. Immediately all eyes were on the device. Neil pulled the laptop closer to read what had appeared there; his face pinched with a serious-sounding hum.

"What is it?" Kevin asked. He glanced warily at Ryan and scooted a little closer to Neil, dropping his voice, though not enough that Ryan couldn't hear. "It's not another email from the VRPI, is it?"

Neil shook his head. "No, my friend, this is something even more urgent. It's a message from the Studio!" His disposition flipped to perky as he turned the laptop around and held it up for them to see. "It says they want us to make a surfing webisode this time."

"Surfing, huh?" Kevin scratched at the back of his neck with a raised eyebrow. "Will the weather be any good for that kind of thing?"

The question wasn't directed at anyone in particular, but almost on instinct Ryan closed his eyes and let his mind drift forward-- not a lot; just a few days, and only for the immediate area. There was a faint tingle in his head as the answer came to him which quickly faded when he opened his eyes again. No headaches; no nosebleeds; no seizures. Just a good old-fashioned premonition.

"We'll have sunny skies and balmy temperatures all next week," he reported with a grin. "But we'd better get it made fast, because the week after that there'll be a thunderstorm!"

Neil and Kevin exchanged the briefest flash of a concerned look, then slowly nodded in unison. Neil snapped his fingers as he hopped up and remarked, "First we'd better find a surfboard."

And so they filed out into the morning sunlight, off on a new mission, eagerly swapping script ideas all the way. Things were never going to be quite the same-- Ryan still flinched at the sight of needles to the point where he couldn't watch their completed medical drama webisode, and he got random pangs in his neck sometimes. But in moments like this, when he tossed his head back and laughed at an idea Neil came up with, he could almost forget all that. He knew exactly who he was. Not the world's Psychic Friend, but Neil and Kevin's friend who just happened to be a burgeoning psychic.

That was more than enough for him.

--End--

[ohbo-ohno]

Picturing Ghost and Soap using one of those electric dog fences connected to a collar on reader.

They give her a chance to roam around outside, but only where they set up the fence's boundaries, not quite trusting her to not run away.

And poor reader doesn't know the collar is a special collar and tries to run as soon as they aren't looking, but gets a shocking surprise when she passes the fence's boundaries.

She yelps and drops, rolling a bit as she paws at the collar, and when she settles, Simon and Johnny are standing above her, tsking in disapproval and disappointment.

"Looks like we have to punish you again, pet."

HEY. HEY YOU. GET BACK HERE.

prefacing this with idk shit about electricity. please do not send me asks about healing from the injury this scenario would cause irl because i do not know how to answer it. we're holding hands and playing pretend ok?

you hadn't really believed it when they'd offered time outside - alone - as a reward for recent good behavior. the last time you'd ask for alone time as a reward they'd both gotten weird about it, johnny somehow even clingier than usual for like a week and simon being weirdly touchy.

so this... time to be in the backyard, without them??? holy shit. it's like a dream come true.

they don't take the stupid fucking collar off, the one that's heavy enough for you to never forget it's there, the one that will not break no matter how hard you tug and pull when they lock it onto a bolt in the floor. you hate the thing, but they're obsessed with it.

you still don't quite believe it when they wander back inside. the windows are closed, you can see the blinds and curtains are both shut... there's no way they're actually letting you stay out here alone, right?

you test the waters a little. duck to the side of the house out of view of the windows, just in case they're peeking and you just can't tell. nothing. you walk the perimeter of the fence, all the way around, and nothing. you stand at the gate. nothing. you open the gate. nothing.

the hope that swells in your chest is something you couldn't push down even if you wanted.

past the gate is... a forest. a sparse one, really just a few trees, but certainly no houses.

you stand there in the open for a second, unable to believe it. there's no movement at the house - not the door, not the windows.

you know it's got to be too good to be true. but you can't not take the risk.

so you take a deep breath, turn around, and take off at a run.

and fall to the ground almost immediatley.

the shock doesn't register for a moment. your vision is blacked out, and even when it comes back there's large parts of it that just dark. your hands and knees hurt, you mouth is filled with blood and your tongue feels swollen, your face is soaked with tears, your limbs numb.

everything hurts, and you're terrified.

it takes another few moments for you to hear the voices around you. some distant part of you knows they belong to simon and johnny, but the part of you still focused on your hurts doesn't catch that.

"you were doing so well, bonnie."

"hm."

"why do you keep doin' this? huh? we don't want too punish you lass. you just can't stop breaking the rules, can ye?"

"it'll be thirty with the belt for this."

"really? that many?"

"she was warned, johnny."

"i know, but..."

"no buts. she knew. she ran anyways. how else will we teach her if we don't stick to our promises?"

"ok, ok, you're right. i know. i just hate having to watch her get so scared, you know?"

"hm. i know. but she's learning. she'll understand eventually."

"wish she understood now."

"me too, puppy."

[plantanarchy]

so this mum season has just been:

(under a cut because it is my whining and complaining and got so long)

part of the nursery got relocated to the former mum field

no new mum field

belgian mums get planted inside the new greenhouses. it is 120 in there during the heatwave. those got planted ok but the drip lines were not set up right away so some of them definitely dried out too much and have struggled to re-wet

the kind of granular fertilizer we use will sizzle a baby plant to death if allowed to sit against the stem or is dumped on top. guess what boss forgot to tell the kids dumping granular fertilizer.

so every other belgian pot has one or two completely fried plants in there, waiting to see if they'll survive

none of the irrigation anywhere has been tested and no drippers have been tested to see if they actually work.

the mum space we do have is at the very back of the old field which previously already did not really get good water pressure or if good water pressure, poor fertilization. and it's a slope.

no pre-emergent was used anywhere this year and some of the field is just. old weed cloth (full of holes) over turf grass. the weeds are going to be next level.

on days i'm not here a lot of the field is being planted too close together

deer plow through the field nightly knocking over pots, removing drippers, and eating mums. the ones they don't eat, they pull out of their pots. they ignore all deer deterrents. deer have never done this before on this scale. they generally don't eat mum beyond the flower buds. recent development and road construction means they have basically none of their old ecosystem left.

boss put up an electric fence. on one side of the field. deer simply walk down around it and back in then get stuck inside aksdjf;lasjk

the upper mum field is not accessible by cart so having to. carry potted mums long distance

boss is going on vacation this week

excessive heat warning and air quality alert daily. black weed cloth and bare ground amplifies that to intolerable levels.

i'm probably forgetting something that went wrong

probably more things will go wrong

[rip-regulus]

random things I associate with the marauders + reg

james - the sun, cooking in an apartment with warm lighting, summer road trips specifically in a beaten up truck, red converse, the beach, wired ear buds, laying in a flower field, climbing trees, lighting mcqueen, the laurie love confession, a cd collection, pasta bakes, crying in the shower, treehouses, shotgunning a beer, forgetting to wear your glasses, singing on top of a table, large houses that are still really cozy, smiling really wide, frat parties, your mom jokes, slushy machines, doodles in the margin, polaroids

sirius - the stars, electric guitar, messy black sparkly eyeshadow, making snow angels, rings, having a bonfire, black chipped nail polish, a back pack covered in pin badges, drawing on a car window, smoking after sex, the arctic monkeys, motorbikes, david bowie vinyl, leaning out of a window, hickeys, zippo lighters, men walking the runway, bootcut jeans, setting off fireworks, mummy issues, blasting the radio, talking to the sky, leather jackets

remus - the moon, reading by a fireplace, black coffee, gatekeeping music artists, messily stacked books, really loud booing, grandpa sweaters, smoking in public, mars bars, scars, bed head, a swear jar, mismatched socks, playing chess, crisp autumn air, covering things in stickers, falling asleep in random places, writing a letter, anger issues, listening to records, studying for a test, leather book satchels, high alcohol tolerance

peter - the earth, telephone booths, potted plants, cobblestone streets, knowing secrets, tripping, crossword puzzles, not strong enough by boygenius, digital camera photos, gaming, decorating with picture frames, the end credits of movies, barbed wire fences, sleeping on a mattress on the floor, being exasperated, breaking your arm, big ears, fish eye lens, not being the first choice, welly boots, gambling, hardwood flooring, crayons

regulus - the ocean, paintings with a blurred face, smashed ceramic/glass, winged eyeliner, black cats, the story of icarus, reading poetry and classic literature, graveyards with overgrown grass, piano, religious trauma, bloody knuckles, freshly fallen snow, abandoned churches, nihilism, the movie coraline, gothic architecture, ballet, art museums, being at a crossroads, those windy staircases, the smell of rain, driving gloves, daggers

[miyahopscotch]

Gotta love hove I just can't stop changing up her design constantly.

Okay, but for real, I wanted more uniqueness (alongside the night fury motif).

✨️anyways✨️

I also wanna discuss other things too such as:

Role changes

Is the lead of the predacon faction, ya know straight up girl boss.

She is actively trying to wipe out the existence of both autobot and decepticon.

She has no intention to harm organic life and if anything treasures it.

Did at one point try and persuade the dinobots to join her side of the predacons but was denied.

As far as "team Optimus" goes, she's on the fence with them.

She does enjoy the company of Bumblebee and Bulkhead quite a lot given their very strong bond with Sari.

Essentially, she projects her emotions onto that as she has an organic who she considers family all the way up in Canada.

Her connection with those two though, falters and becomes distant.

This happens when she makes her final decision to eradicate both autobots and decepticons.

It's an "either you're with me or against me" moment.

She was actively part of the war on cybertron but briefly.

She lost quite a bit of memory around that time, so she barely remembered that.

Created fresh out of the lab to be a mindless soldier, but this was around when project predacon failed and when the decepticons lost the war, so to speak.

She was stored in a test tube to be terminated, but the ship she was on crashed in the far northern regions of earth.

She stayed in stasis for like, maybe 100 years at most.

Shockwave being her creator is literally what she would consider a neglecting parent. Although that being said not really as she wasn't created in his image, let alone with any parts of himself. She was just a drone to be tested and later cloned (which never ended up happening).

For at least 20 years, she lived with a family in Northern Canada in which she was named after Noah's (her human companion) late sister who died from an illness.

Her bond formed with him not only emotional but also part of her programming.

She was supposed to imprint on megatron but never got to at the time of her creation, and Noah being techno-organic made her able to unintentionally imprint upon him.

Her initial "name" was V04, not exactly a name, so to speak, but it's what she was assigned to as being just a number.

Abilities

Fueling by draining energon from other cybertronians.

Shush I like vampires....

She has a lot more of a size advantage, now being roughly the same height of, let's say, starscream or blitzwing, as opposed to when she was maybe the same height as Optimus at most.

Can summon electrical currents with her tendrils.

Can pick up on scents but is unable yo have any tracking abilities regarding that with organics as her main purpose was to be an "autobot hunter."

She has a weird tongue that paralyzes victims.

Extreme intelligence.

Fast flight speed is able to make it to mach speed.

Her hands transform into sickles as a closer combat weapon.

While in her alt mode, she can fire concentrated beams along with electrical type blasts.

Splitting jaw and in her alt mode has multiple rows of teeth.

[cottonpuffmouse]

God I’m such a fool to not be writing Kunikida in love as Kent Davidson in love with Sue.

No, Kunikida will not out right flirt with you. He will wait several months, possibly several years, to ask you out. You would be lucky if you got a few drunk kisses inbetween that. It’s a harsh reality of Kunikida’s character: He Is Methodically Cautious.

But in the middle of a semi-serious meeting, where Doppo has more less been playing hardass all morning, you make a joke about the case.

And he laughs. It’s a quick, ‘blink and you’ll miss it laugh’. But he laughs! It’s funny! He does not scold you about speaking out of turn about the case either.

When he calls you with bad news, instead of straight “Here are the facts as of now:”, he says “I’m sorry. Here are the facts as of now. If you need anything, I will be available after 7PM.” And he means it!!! If you said you needed groceries, he would come with groceries!!! He would demand a small hassel delivery fee but it would be reasonable considering the groceries would be on him.

And perhaps most damningly for a Kunikida trying to hide his affections for you: He trusts you to be competent. Atsushi, Dazai, Ranpo, etc need to be checked on constantly to ensure their good behavior - (in a day to day setting anyways. In crisis they are obviously perfectly capable. They save their energy I think.)

But you can be trusted to just…do the fucking job.

You have no idea how crazy this drives him. I’m not exaggerating when I say it almost turns him on how he can ask you to perform a task and know, beyond any unexpected issues, it will get done. It’s truly epic for him. You are taking a chunk of the world off his shoulders.

He’ll admit it one day. Dazai will start a weird count down on his desk with a calendar that started in May. Every few months he would turn to the next month and he’d made a big show of it. He started in October. It would now March of the following year. Dazai’s calendar would have you believe it is June.

Life was bad tolerable until about Dazai’s Calendar’s March and Kunikida started acting fidgety around you.

On every mission he stayed close to you, constantly gently bumping into you - like someone testing an electrical fence. He became fond of getting between you and dangerous opponents. Doppo starts ensuring your snacks were bought with your grocery budget - you’ll be never without Matcha tea cakes and berry tea again!

The day the calendar reached May again, Kunikida formal courted you.

When asked about this weird way of counting down, Dazai insisted he was psychic. When that failed, he said his actual ability was to read minds of fussy people. As he was rattling off his third bit, Ranpo insisted.

“A clock would have been better? Because it always ends at 12, your calendar has extra months.”

“I had to account for him adding more of those stupid requirements when he changed the final one,” Dazai said with a grin. “Plus a calendar is what I hand in hand.”

(Last bit for all my fellow “I could never met his ideals”-ers. His ideals would change!! To you!!)