#the next 50 years :/ probably like half of you will make it. it could hit at any time btw’

[surskip]

As a kid I had this “10 most dangerous natural disasters in the world” book and the only thing I can remember is I would only get enough courage to maybe read 2 pages every like, month, and each new item on the list gave me nightmares for like 4 weeks. I would lay in bed awake at night going “Fuuuuck….. there’s going to be earthquakes and meteors and that mountain over there will erupt and im going to die….” And make evacuation plans in my head. None of it was even rational I was just a very scared kid. A year or two prior I got really scared of this jaws-themed valentines card my dad got my mom because I was convinced the sound it played (the jaws theme) would summon sharks that could swim on land to my location and I got around the house for like a month dashing between furniture like a floor is lava game.

[somerunner]

In my high school, all you needed to get a varsity letter in cross country was, I think, to get under 19 minutes on a 5K. Most of the varsity letter requirements for other sports were similarly easy to meet. Our school wasn't known for athletics.

My first race was a little under 22 minutes long, and every year I struggled to get my time lower than 19:50.

My senior year, I had hit puberty, so I had more strength and cardiovascular fitness than before. I figured I would make it this time, and I trained as optimally as I could. I followed the coaches' directions more closely (my brother and I were once told that, given our fitness, we should never run slower than 9 minutes a mile for an easy run; it took until senior year for me to actually follow that advice). I ate well, slept...probably poorly, and I felt pretty fit compared to previous years. My dad bought me and my brothers Garmin Forerunners, which are GPS watches that can tell you your pace in the middle of a race. He came to as many of our races as he could all throughout high school, and our mom did too (she came to our middle school races in addition to high school ones -- it was no fault of our dad's, not to come to our middle school races; I find it impressive and touching that he made it to almost all of my high school ones. In middle school it was always some random distance so we never really had a consistent distance to truly compete against ourselves with. High school had bigger teams and each race always right around five kilometers, with one notable exception).

The watches helped a lot. (I still have mine from back then, but it struggles to hold a charge for a full run unless you've kept it in the charger until the minute you go running. I don't use it quite as much; I've misplaced my charger too often, and I don't want to look for it a day in advance just so my watch can tell me my strides per minute (arguably important, but I digress). I can't pace myself any better than in high school, but I don't need to because there's no exact season or race I'm training for -- though for something big, like a marathon, I will actually use the watch. My phone can record my pace for less-important runs.)

Anyway. Back to the point. I hadn't broken 19 minutes my whole senior year, and we were down to one last race. I was anxious the whole last week. The last three days, I could practically feel adrenaline seeping into every capillary like I was a sponge. It felt good, unsurprisingly to me (though that may be surprising to you). I felt ready.

The last meet was big, full of schools. I'd just learned from my dad (either that day, or just before some other race in the past week or two) that the "strides," or short almost-sprints you do a few minutes before a race, are actually important -- they prime your body for that first 100-meter dash where you stake your position for the next mile. If you don't do your strides, you'll dip into anaerobic metabolism early, and your legs might be locked up halfway through the race, and that's bye-bye sub-19:00.

I felt like I weighed like nothing. My entire body was a spring. Side note: if you've never put on racing flats/spikes, I encourage you to borrow a pair for a short run (and I mean short! Like 100 meters if you don't run, and a mile or two if you do run). It feels like there's a weightless force field on your foot, with how light it is compared to a normal shoe. It's a surreal feeling.

When we started the race, I felt a touch desperate. I ran only a little slower than my best; you're supposed to hold yourself back for the first mile. I knew that, but I glanced at my watch to see that I was averaging a 5:00/mile pace. That was WAY beyond my target pace, and I barely even noticed. That was heartening to see, but I obviously dialed the pace way, way back to 5:45/mile or something. I needed this record-breaking adrenaline to last me for three miles, not half of one.

Frankly, all I remember of that race was that first 200-meter dash and the disconnect between what I felt and what I saw on my watch. I always have that disconnect during a race, but it was especially pronounced during this race.

The next two miles were hard but good, and I broke 19. I got a massive personal record (PR) to end my high school career with; I think it was more than a minute of improved time. Which is rather insane. Improvement tends to be more incremental than that, but things like this do happen pretty often in running, especially at the relatively slow paces I ran at.

My brother broke 19 and 18 in the same race. Just skipped right over the whole 18-minutes-something-seconds window. I was over the moon for him, of course. We'd both made it past the lettering-qualification by the skin of our teeth, and at the same time, by a huge margin.

He's kept up with consistent running more than I have. He's also gotten me back into running after I semi-gave up on it, and our older brother's gotten back into running too. We, along with our dad, decided to run a marathon/half-marathon together this summer. I'd say we all did well, though I didn't train as much for it as I should have.

I've only ran one marathon so far, and it was recent, but now I'm feeling the itch. I want to run another one, I want to absolutely demolish my time. Admittedly, this is partially because I didn't practice as much as I should have, and I've seen my brothers' times, so I know how much farther I can go.

If you've come close to your (previous) best at something, you might have realized too that it was only a false summit. Could be a project within your hobby, could be a physical accomplishment, it could be anything that requires some level of effort large or small. But I hope, when you realized you could do even better than you just did, that it felt inspiring.

It's kind of a rush.

[struwberrii]

Hi! I love your American high school headcanons! Do you have any headcanons for the Karasuno third years hehehe

haikyuu!! at an american highschool ⋆⭒˚.⋆

thank you for the request!! hopefully u all enjoy ^.^

pt. 1, pt.2

characters: tanaka, noya, kiyoko, sugawara, daichi, asahi

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

tanaka

there’s a 50/50 chance he’ll actually show up to class

drives the most beat up busted car with no tint and no bumper

he and noya in the parking lot blasting music with the windows down

cafeteria lunch defender

probably pulled the fire alarm at some point as a joke

teachers have to tell him to pull his pants up bc he sags 😭

speaker in his bookbag

has been high in class multiple times

literally has no school supplies

does interview in the halls with his phone as a mic and is constantly getting humbled by pretty girls

somehow pulled kiyoko (everyone rips on her for dating him)

falls asleep in class and snores

bro is not graduating 😭

he and noya troll teachers

noya

uses a children’s bookbag bc he thinks it’s funny (people think he’s actually a child)

tanakas #1 meat rider

always making mildly gay comments and everyone in their friend group gets so mad at him

gym try hard

doesn’t have a car but skips in the bathroom sometimes

probably smoked one time and saw literal demons now he’s too scared to ever do it again 😭

his mom drops him off at school

another boy the girls have to hit with the “hear me out”

actually gets his work done but hardly passes

brings like whole family packs of cookies for lunch

crocs all day everyday

makes fart noises in class then blames it on other people

let’s his friends hype him up to ‘rizz’ up girls and 9/10 the girls laugh at him (poor guy lol)

kiyoko

unproblematic and everyone loves her

guys probably spread rumors about her when she rejects them but nobody believes them

you either want to be her or be with her

half ap classes

accidentally starts trends (like fashion trends)

tries to help tanaka with his work but he doesn’t ever pay attention

the only thing people criticize her for is going with tanaka 😭

quiet and keeps to herself

takes super neat notes

drives a pretty nice car and it always smells like japanese cherry blossom

always has one airpod in too

probably class buddies with suga and asahi

girls in the grades below her view her as like big sister

takes low effort instagram pictures and always ends up on the explore page with thousands of likes

suga

takes ap classes

the best and safest driver and offers everyone rides

sketches and doodles on the corners of all his assignments and notes

color coordinated notes with pastel highlighters

people think he’s gay but he just likes cute stuff

shit talks with teachers

everyone trusts him and he is very reliable

boy next door

has the cutest keychains and pins on his bag

‘takes notes’ on his ipad but actually just plays roblox

probably has a job at like a pet store or bakery

daichi

him and suga are the unexpected best friends bc they’re so different

spends all his free periods in the gym working out

has social media but never uses it

drives a truck but isn’t annoying about it

curbs #1 enemy

has really random knowledge about dumb stuff, like you could be complaining about your ankle hurting and he knows exactly how to fix it

he does not tolerate disrespect, shuts it down real quick.

plays cod during his free time

takes all regular classes but his grades never fall below 90s (As)

him suga and asahi get lunch together off campus at least 3 times a week and he always drives

working out 24/7

asahi

works at barnes and noble or a coffee shop

has a car but never drives because it makes him anxious

gets rides from suga

plays word cookies in class

smells really good and citrus y all the time

the craziest rumors go around about him, like about him being a grown man and being held back or being a criminal

nicest guy in the entire school

staff has stopped him in the halls multiple times because they thought he was a grown man and had to see his school ID 😭

always gets vending machine frappes

dresses like a youth counselor

watches movies during class

underclassman call him unc

[starry-bi-sky]

Part six of "Clone Danny"

When the Waynes leave, Danny can finally relax. Even if he's once again hit with a lingering regret that worms itself into his core like a little parasite. The final night that they're there, Bruce Wayne is not downstairs waiting for him, much to Danny's faint, lingering disappointment. He kinda liked talking to him, even if he kept it brief. Probably for the best.

Damian was still there when he returned with a sprained ankle and more ectoplasm burns. Danny tries not to make his limp obvious when he enters, and his clothing smells faintly of sulfur and burnt fabric.

Damian tells him he stinks, and Danny tells him he ran into a ghost. "The Phantom took care of it." He says, gripping his mask in his pocket tightly and avoiding putting weight on his injured foot. His thermos is pressed next to it. His fingers are freezing.

"Ah yes, your vigilante." Damian replies, "The one with the bat." And Danny can see the outline of his eyes narrowing at him.

"Can we really call him a vigilante when the people he's fighting are ghosts?" Danny asks, avoiding the 'bat' comment and leaning against the back of the kitchen chair.

"Did you actually lose your bat, Fenton?" Damian's fingers tap against his arm, refusing to move on. "Despite your ridiculous behavior and attempts to avoid my father and I, I find it hard to believe that the son of two ghost hunters would be as foolish as to forget his only weapon of defense against ghosts."

Ah, so he noticed that. Danny was half tempted to mutter that the bat wasn't his only weapon of defense. He still had his beloved jawbreakers. He's quiet, wondering how to respond to implication that he might be Phantom -- he can't believe Damian picked that up in only a few short days when nobody has caught on in little over a year -- before shrugging.

"I may have given it to the Phantom instead." He says, propping his arm up to put his chin in his hand, trying to look innocent while his heart skipped an anxious beat.

It's probably not the answer Damian wants, but when his word is the only proof he has, Danny doesn't think he should be too worried about it. Even if it meant that a second person outside his friend and enemy circle knew his identity.

He excuses himself shortly after, leaning heavily against the railing to try and hop up the stairs.

(Much to his surprise, Damian follows and lets Danny put his weight on him. He complains that its because Danny will wake his father if he allows him to bumble up the stairs on one foot.)

(Danny ruffles his hair again when they reach the top, and limps towards his bedroom.)

===

Its three months and a handful of new injuries before Danny thinks about the Waynes again. A new ghost appeared in town who called itself Riftgate and he was capable of creating teleport portals to anywhere in the world.

He was a fucking pain in the ass to fight, costing Danny three hours of his night where he could have been sleeping and nearly his hand. Danny gets dragged through the other side before finally shoving Rift inside the thermos.

But he also ends up nearly 900 miles away in fucking Gotham of all places on the top of an empty roof. Great, juuuust great. Danny is tired, he is grumpy, and he is in a city so laden with ectoplasm that he can all but taste it on his tongue. Or maybe that was just the air quality.

He can't even see the stars here, and his mood worsens.

Well, he's too fucking tired to bother handling this right now. There's no way Sam or Tucker are able to help him considering their distance, and right now Danny just wants to sleep. Maybe after that he can figure out a way home.

So he does, sort of. He walks over to the door and doesn't bother trying to open it, even if there was a 50/50 chance of it being unlocked. (This was Gotham after all.) Instead he sweeps the ground with his foot and curls up at door and he's out like a light.

....Only to be woken up by hissed muttering close to his ear and a gloved hand pressing into the pulse of his neck. "No I don't know if they're dead but I don't think so." Says the unfamiliar voice, and Danny opens a bleary eye.

"He's breathing, but his pulse is too slow to be normal. I think he needs help." The voice, a boy, -- no, Red Robin, great -- continues, and Danny looks beside him to see who he was talking to. No one. "He's probably part of some kind of gang, his mask kind of reminds me of Hood's."

Danny just barely remembers that he's still dressed up as Phantom before he tiredly signs, "I'm not part of a fucking gang." and pushes the boy's hand off.

=====

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

will make a masterpost soon

Taglist: @the-navistar-carol @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @gin2212 @youracearocroatneighbour @luckybyrdrobyn @deeplyconfusedbear @epilepticnerd @beautifulmomenttodrawblank

[endlich-allein]

Till Lindemann from "Rammstein" turns 60

Good man

Von Flake Lorenz

3. Januar 2023

Till Lindemann, "Rammstein" singer and lyricist, turns 60. Congratulations from his longtime friend and keyboardist.

Actually, one would not have to wait for a milestone birthday to honor this wonderful person. You could just pause and pay homage to the force of nature on any other evening. It may also be that Till Lindemann's birthday this Wednesday is not true. Even when Bravo reported about Rammstein for the first time in the early 1990s, our dates of birth were completely out of thin air. We were way too old for the Bravo target group back then, so the editors simply made us a few years younger. That wasn't a problem because the internet was still empty.

We soon realized that it doesn't matter how old you really are. Much later, when Rammstein became successful, being old was even better. You can deal more calmly with all that nonsense and enjoy your happiness in peace. Also, a person's age is just in the eye of the beholder, at least I don't know anyone who would call themselves old. On the other hand, I can still remember how, as a young musician, I couldn't calm down when I found out that the guitarist in a band I was friends with was over 30 years old. "He can still make music?" I asked. Men over 50 were half-dead, bleating grandpas in ugly brown clothes, they were every teenager's natural enemy.

It's 1986. Till turns up the system. I'm worried: What will the neighbors think?

Till seemed old to me when I met him. That was in the mid-1980s in East Germany. Till was not only older than me, in contrast to me he was already really grown up. He lived in his own house while I was still in my parents' room and didn't even have a girlfriend. I saw Till for the first time in 1986 in a Schwerin club after a Feeling B concert. I immediately noticed him: Till was a tall, strong man who on the one hand exuded natural authority, but at the same time seemed very shy. We didn't hesitate when he offered to take us home with him. His house in the country near Schwerin seemed like paradise to me, it was incredibly comfortable, probably because he had set it up that way himself; he had knocked out the walls between the rooms and left only the half-timbering. The volume on his system was turned up to the limit, the Sisters Of Mercy screamed from the cheap speakers.

I had never dared to do anything like this in my life. What would the neighbors think? When I wanted to play a song on the piano in between, Till simply carried it for me to another room where it wasn't so loud. At some point we all fell asleep where we sat and stood, like in Sleeping Beauty, and when I woke up the next morning, I imagined what it would be like if you always lived like Till. I really liked this idea.

Of course, his life wasn't a one-stop party. He also lived in the house because the argument with his father, who was not exactly frail, had escalated beforehand. Till had hit his father, the children's book author Werner Lindemann, with such a punch that he flew into the strawberry bed. Then Werner Lindemann threw Till's things out of the skylight. Life in a sports boarding school and training as a carpenter in Rostock were no fun either. Later, as a single father, Till lived with his daughter Nele in his nest, which in turn probably saved him from being drafted into the army. Till always seemed and always seems in a good mood to me – a bit like Obelix, of course not in terms of stature, for God's sake, he looks more like Arnold Schwarzenegger, but in terms of personality he's more like Obelix. Always according to the motto: "Friends, I have a plan, let's go here and there and break everything to pieces!"

Practical: He could change a wheel on the Trabi without using the jack

When the wall was suddenly open, Till drove to Lübeck with a couple of friends and spent all the West money he had saved and exchanged on gummy bears. He sat in a doorway and ate them all. Of course, he also manages a wild boar – it was an advantage back then that he lived so close to the railway embankment. When a waiter asks Till if he liked his food, he usually replies: "Yes, thank you, it was plenty." Incidentally, he also shares Obelix's great love of small dogs. Since Till is with (allegedly) Francis of Assisi, who wrote: "The dog remains loyal to me in the storm, man not even in the wind."

And like Obelix, Till seems to have fallen into a magic potion, because he really has tremendous powers.

At that time he could change a wheel on the Trabi without using the jack. In the old days, when we had to work as stewards at an open-air festival, Till just banged his fist through a car window to hold the driver down.

If Till sees any body of water, he immediately plunges into it and plows through it like a motorboat. He tucks the boxes that we carry in the studio or in the rehearsal room under his arm alone.

If a door is locked somewhere, he just sticks me through a second-story window so I can open it all from the inside.

I've never met anyone who is so pragmatic about music and lyrics. Till would never have originally thought of becoming a singer. Although he observed that musicians in Schwerin had a hit with women and then played drums in a punk band - but in all those years I really never had the feeling that punk music particularly interested him. An effective and well thought-out stage show was always more important to him. For example, Till once put chickens in the bass drum and only pulled the cloth away after the first song, causing the animals to tumble across the stage.

Cheering crowds, prizes and honours: All of this actually leaves him completely cold

When Till was supposed to sing with us, it was very difficult for him at first, because as a singer you can't hide behind an instrument or another musician. Then he put on welding goggles so that he looked like a friendly insect. Till sang beautifully, deeply and soothingly. We stopped worrying immediately. Everything would be fine. We just needed good lyrics. So Till sat down to write them. He never pretends to be a great artist who needs to express his deep feelings. He prefers to think about what else can be lit on stage (like me). The concerts used to be a lot of fun. At that time we always looked for an attractive village inn first, in order to eat as much as possible. Only then did we set up our stuff and play.

Till loves women - and women love him. But how he manages to go through his life completely free of any affectation, even after 37 years, still arouses deep admiration from me. Cheering crowds of spectators, prizes and honors actually leave him completely cold. Organizing a party for our entire crew seems to be more important to him than any concert. Incidentally, he has renounced his rights as a lyricist for decades, so that all six of us at Rammstein earn exactly the same. In any case, Till has extended the life of the band, because money is usually the trigger for a breakup. He, on the other hand, has a very decisive influence on our band with his lyrics and his voice.

So we can still successfully defend our small East German village. By Teutates! May the sky never fall on Till's head!

(I'm not sure of this whole translation so feel free to correct me)

[zurajanaizurakoda]

Which EP that make your into ginzura ?!

I know who you are, and you know you don't want to hear this. There wasn't any episode, I first watched the series almost ten years ago and distanced myself from it because it was making me physically sick worrying about characters. I remember looking for Ginzura and not finding anything but not being particularly attached to it. Like I didn't really see g*nhiji so I figured Ginzura had at least as much reason?

I thought the most interesting relationship was between Gin and Kagura (NOT sexually or romantically, I was just fascinated by them.

When I saw that the series was all on Crunchyroll (as far as I knew except the love potion arc which I wasn't a fan of in the manga so I decided to watch the series and see how it ended. Got obsessed again. It seems like I latched on to Katsura more that time, although I remember liking him the first time through. Finally I decided to find the second movie, which I remembered liking. I was enjoying it, and then it got to the scene on the balcony where Katsura talks about the last time he saw Gin, and I was fucking run over by a 50-ton freight train of feelings. I've never had a ship hit that fast. When he started choking up it was suddenly clear that the outfit wasn't a popularity joke, Katsura was literally shattered by losing Gin. He'd lost his entire family and his Sensei and his cause and everything he'd ever cared about and he'd persisted, but losing Gin broke him. And it struck me just how miserable he was in the movie, and how no one seemed to care. Kagura flatly states that he went insane because Gin disappeared, and they go back to talking about everything else like that wasn't important. Gin makes a half joke about murdering him and goes back to worrying about Gengai. This is runaway Kotarou, his literal claim to fame is running away. He escapes all the time, even from the inescapable prison, even when he was a screwdriver. And he just sat there and let the execution happen because he was so broken down. And of course, Kagura says he talked about destroying the world, but all he talks about, both with Kondo and Gin, is how much he wants to help the world. He hates the world but he just wants to help, so badly. And he was breaking down and Gin saw the Blight guy and left Katsura and probably forgot him as soon as he was out of sight. Then during the final battle, Katsura makes the long, impassioned speech about how every single one of them is there to support Gin. If Gin hears the speech, he literally does not react at all. I wondered if this was the Katsura who had mourned Gin for ten years. Everyone else forgot Gin, but for Katsura he lost his best friend and suffered for it for a decade. Here he is finally able to do something for the person he cares about more than everything. And again, how happy would he be if Gin just took a second to acknowledge him?

And it's been the same ever since. His introduction is based on how much he values Gin, how he was willing to dirty his hands to get him back. But he accepts Gin's decision, even if he doesn't like it, and he tries to influence Gin but he never endangers him again. His next major appearance, he says the Harusame is too big for his entire organization, but when Gin says he's going, Katsura goes with him without hesitation "I'm your left hand" isn't just an idle term, he makes an enemy he's already stated he doesn't think he can defeat if it will help Gin. In Benizakura he tells Takasugi he rearranged his core beliefs based on how strong he sees Gin as. I could keep going. The constant standbys. Wanting to be in the Cartesian Arc., In the soul-switch arc he literally is willing to fight for Hijikata because Hijikata in Gin's body took him seriously and offered him a job. When he saved Gin from Nobunobu (Which again, Gin literally never acknowledges, Katsura spends most of his time talking about Gin and Gin spends the whole time playing support for Hijikata. Katsura gets his rawest line in the series, about how when you're near death you just want to be with people you care about. This reframes his asking Gin to commit seppuku with him. When he lost all hope, his one wish was to be near Gintoki when he died. Meanwhile, in the Farewell Shinsengumi arc, he doesn't get to see Gin. It doesn't even appear that Gin bothered to talk to him about Utsuro until Matako and Nobume bring it up. Gin literally fucking renamed him and it changed how his friends treated him for the rest of his life. When he stayed in the ship in The Very Final. I don't see much Ginzura in the series, but if Katsura isn't in love with Gintoki it's still obvious that a good chunk of his sanity revolves around his relationship with Gin. I truly believe there's more support for his romantic feelings for Gin than his romantic feelings for Ikumatsu, and I truly believe he cares about her and I can even see them ending up together but you cannot possibly convince me that their main bond is based around his understanding how hard it is to lose the one you love to the cause. And every time I see Katsura I want to throw a supportive Gin at him, even for a minute, even for a single panel, and it never happens. So I write.

Obviously this is all my opinion. If you really want to discuss it that's fine, but if you just want to tell me how wrong I am I'm aware my opinions are very different from most of the fandom. When I say you can't convince me it's because I'm stubborn as fuck and I suffer from cognitive rigidity, not because I think I'm the smartest person on the internet. Just assume you're right

[mountmortar]

Highschool perfectionists, hearing a college student be excited over making a 50 on the final: "Wow, these students are horrible, I will never be like them." That same student after the college experience: "The class average for exams is consistently in the 30s range can I PLS be above average and pass with a 50 to keep a 90%" 🫡 I feel you SO hard, that was me fighting to get a B in one of my courses. Congrats, and I wish you all the best!

HAHAHAHA THANK YOUUUUUUU <33333 My final is next week and it's like. Hoo boy. C'mon. All I need is a 50 (well. Probably one or two points higher but I'm not stopping to calculate the exact average right now LMAO) and I'll still pass the class with a C, which is the bare minimum that I need to move on to the next class. Ideally I would LIKE to keep my overall B- in the class but I will absolutely settle for the bare minimum. I don't even care. I was a high school perfectionist for the first two years of it before being like "You know what. I'm tired of getting gray hairs at 15/16 years old" and settling more into the motion of going with the flow. Like, really hard. Two semesters ago I had to take a statistics class (which happened to be a night class as well) and the final was scheduled from 8:10-10:10 at night, which already had me like "hrrgh fuck this". I spent the entire semester not paying a damn bit of attention and screwing around on my laptop, showed up for the final (which was all word problems), and man. When I tell you I didn't fully read a single problem on that test I swear to god I'm not joking. I skimmed through the numbers in every question, weighed the answers for maybe half a second, and pretty much chose all my answers by going "yeah, that one sounds right". Somehow, I got an A- on the exam and an A for the class overall. Flabbergasted the fuck out of me.

But unfortunately "going with the flow" is NOT a strategy I can use when it comes to calculus because I have to study overtime for the actual math problems to compensate for the fact that my brain will, most of the time, just physically refuse to process word problems, and the fact that these word problems are asking me to visualize a picture to build equations out of is even worse. I would have a better time if it was something I was actually interested in, but as it is, I get hit with questions like "A North-South highway intersects with an East-West highway at P. An auto crosses P at 10:00AM, traveling East at 20mph. At the same instant, another car is 2 miles North of P, traveling South at 50mph. Find the time they are closest to each other." and it's like man if you wanted me dead you could just say so....

[yowyowyaoi]

Zetsu’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Nagato

You can’t keep eating them without checking to see if we’re using them first.

300 miles? Is that really the closest?!

I can put you with Tobi or Hidan. Take your pick.

Put the letters where they can find them, then stay somewhere hidden to see their reactions.

Keep an eye on them please. No explosions, no sacrifices. Nothing to draw attention.

I’ve been practicing every day. Legs feel stronger.

I’d only risk it if you also want to risk being placed in a gengetsu.

I’m sure I’ll be gone before her. All I ask is she be well taken care of. It’s all that matters.

No. Under no circumstances. I need them all ALIVE and able to work, please.

You can ask but she’ll probably hit you hard enough to REALLY split you in half.

From Kakuzu

Yes well your appetite is proving quite costly.

Find where he’s hiding and I’ll give you a third of his bounty.

I’m not so sure that “intelligence” is a quality I’d associate with any of them.

Actually if you could naturally produce that we could sell bottles and make some money 🤔

Much, much too expensive.

I don’t care if you eat him but wait until I get his heart out first.

I’d rather you ate me; my body won’t be on display for him to entertain Deidara with.

It’s complicated. And by complicated I mean I let a one time physical urge turn into a years-long relationship. 

It’s the 1st. Rent and utilities are due. 

If I didn’t we wouldn’t have *anything*. Be grateful.

I’m not sure if my threads would hold for plant-skin.

Stop losing them for God’s sake each one costs $50 in materials to make!!

I’ll take your word for it. That voice creeps me out.

From Konan

Please don’t ever do that again. Nagato almost had a heart attack. 😡

It’s funny in a shouldn’t be funny way.

Wait you’ve seen him without the mask 👀

No I don’t care if they’re annoying we don’t have the time to replace them now!!

Ask Sasori to take a look. He enjoys a challenge.

I don’t care how easy it was to get, I’m NOT cooking with that kind of “meat” 🤢

No offense but do you even have nails 🤔

I’d rather we didn’t need to pick up and move again unless absolutely necessary.

Since we were children 🥰

I’d kill anyone who tried. With my bare hands.

Kisame may be able to but the rest will need it cooked.

You’re THAT old?! 😵‍💫

Stick to guys. I will remain the only woman in this group.

Can’t you eat them? Aren’t you part Venus fly trap??

From Hidan

Freak.

Then stop watching, weirdo!

Because if you take the body before my praying is finished then the entire ritual is void!!

Not to be gay but yeah I see what he sees. 

Then steal him some damn glasses next time!

But do plants even have dicks? Like is it green? Does it smell like grass? 🤔

He’s such a liar he wanted me since the day we met 😂

I saw you eyeing that cat and so did Itachi.

How do you say “Fuck you” in plant-speak?

They’re not “pink” they’re “rose”, heathen.

Ribs without sauce is like fucking without lube. Like what’s even the point?

If I could convert even one of those fucks I’d become a High Priest for Jashin.

Can’t. Kakuzu’s “withholding my paycheck” until I pay off that bounty of his that I killed. 🙄

So come with us. Everyone’s weird you’ll fit right in.

From Sasori

Elderberry, nightshade, and primrose. For now.

A mouse learns to fear other mice before it even thinks about predators.

Please stop that you gave him nightmares last time and I couldn’t work on my puppets for a whole week 😒

I don’t care as long as it has a big enough space for a lab.

Damn blue eyes trapped me for eternity.

An interesting experiment, certainly.

I have vague memories but that’s all.

You appear to be “friends” so talk to him and tell him to back off. 

Who do you think I am? That freak Orochimaru?!

I don’t buy that stupid act for a second.

If I suggested aloe vera would you find that insulting?

You and I are the least bothersome in terms of eating. I don’t, and you hunt.

I’ll contribute when the expense is relative to me.

From Kisame

So far only Itachi knows about it but the water there is clear and beautiful.

Your way of thinking is truly fascinating.

Of course you’re welcome to join us but you’ve voiced objections before to both tea and sweets.

No, I’ll BURY him myself before I let you eat him.

Crab and shrimp. Especially crab.

I’m aware. His smell is getting weaker and his chakra is shaky.

I admire your patience for it but I don’t do so well in the sun for so long.

Again? Why?? Who attracted attention this time? 😒

I don’t but Samehada seems to.

The battlefield is empty. Care to join me at the buffet? 😋

Between the prayer rituals and the constant bombing I just can’t handle either of them.

Salt is for the weak. Pure fear flavors the meat better than any seasoning. 

From Deidara

You can’t prove that was me, that could have been anyone!

If I’m successful there won’t BE anything left of me to eat so 🤷🏼

Idk you just look gray. Maybe stand in the sun for a while?

Ok we may eat more BUT his food costs more!

Wait is it real hair or like plant stuff 🤔

I didn’t this time he was dancing and he tripped on his cloak like an idiot.

Honestly not until I met Sasori lol 

Omg where?! Riverbanks are always a goldmine of natural clay! 🤩

I get that but I’m just not interested, eternity is so boring.

Low key he goes into this voice sometimes that scares the piss out of me.

Bc it’s weird man it’d be like watching my mother shower or something 😖

Like usual he couldn’t shut up and almost got us killed on the spot 😡

Not unless you want to pick the lice out of my hair afterwards.

From Itachi

Not sure of the exact dynamics but I think it’s second or third cousins.

Maybe it’s best we all just live with our own partners. Too many in one area and eventually someone figures it out.

No he’s as gentle as possible. I just have sensitive skin.

Yes but cabbage is so versatile.

You saw him? Did he look well? 👀

The glasses help some but most everything is still a massive blur.

I tried. Nagato tried. He refuses to give up on the idea.

There is no “before” and there’s no “after0. There’s just NOW.

No I know he ate it because he had the jam smeared all over his collar.

22 doesn’t really interest me.

From Obito

The right arm still twitches if I try to lift too much.

Come on weren’t YOU happy when he died?!

He can’t turn me down forever. Just picture him with the Uchiha fan on his back 😍

Yeah well he’s still my little cousin and I still worry.

I think it scares him a little, he almost walked into a tree that first time I did it on accident.

It’s not excessive; the sugar is literally the only thing pushing me forward right now.

I would bet money that he’s the worst Sensei ever to those kids. No wonder Sasuke was so weak.

The constant money woes are so tedious.

Blind or not his reflexes are unmatched and he could still take me out in one move.

We should have put more emphasis on intelligent and less on “skills”.

You’ve gotta admit the explosions DO liven things up 🤷🏻

What if you ate him and he could still talk from inside of your stomach though? Is that a chance you want to take?

Bonus: From Madara

He stopped responding two years ago he acts like I’m dead.

What? That little shit. 😡

If the blonde is giving him too much of a distraction, dispose of him.

You don’t need to pre-chew my food I’m not a baby bird.

Have you seen my good blanket?

What happened to my slippers?

🍆 I want this. I’m craving this so bad. Please bring it to me.

Tell that boy to come back I need a good bath and a haircut.

Perhaps if you hadn’t recruited so many *brats* you wouldn’t be having such an issue.

Whatever you do, do NOT let them breed.

Did you remember where I stashed my last painting of Hashirama?

If I was younger I could have eliminated the entire group within seconds. They’d never even know what hit them.

Please procure a backscratcher and industrial grade toenail clippers.

Wait until he sleeps and move several large rocks into his room. I guarantee he’ll cry.

First that young lass, then the Hatake boy, now the blonde. He never learns his lesson does he?

What do you mean he cut it?? An Uchiha’s hair is his crown! Tell him to get back here NOW.

I should have chosen Fugaku’s son instead. Likely a lot less crying.

[max-nico]

hey anon from the clothing ask here~

i meant the mobian culture around clothing but you can pick the one that you like more! :)

sorry for not clarifying

Ofc ofc !!!! You're all good Anon 🫶🏾 forgive me if I take a bit to answer this ask, I need to organize my thoughts into words lol as of me writing this sentence I'm trying to condense an essays worth of writing into somewhat easily consumable bullet points.

Hope this is to your liking 🫶🏾🫶🏾

Gloves

I've been Headcanoning gloves are worn for decency's sake, as in they are the Mobian equivalent to undergarments for humans, but I hadn't really put more thought into it than that

I'm sure it's either for practical reasons, or it's more of an emotional trust type of thing.

For example, cats typically don't let you pet their stomach or their paws unless they're sleeping and they leave them exposed to you, hence trusting you.

Or, animals typically don't all experience touch the same way. Some bugs can taste with their hands and feet, and I'm sure it'd be uncomfortable to be tasting every single hand you've ever held. So, gloves.

I'm also sure there are plenty of animals who are highly sensitive to touch or temperature, which would also make accidentally bumping hands in the street uncomfortable

I understand that, as someone who's touch averse and germaphobic I completely understand the need for everyone to wear gloves.

I'm sure some Mobians wear them less than others, like deer (idk much about deer so I could be wrong) probably can't feet much through hooves, and I'm sure their Mobian counter parts have hands but maybe the low amount of nerve endings carry over

Maybe it's more of a politeness thing? Like not wearing gloves in public is a bit of a dick move, because even if it doesn't affect you personally it could affect the person you're next to.

I also don't think young kids have to wear gloves. Have you ever tried to get shoes on a toddler who hates them, and will just take them off and lose them anyway? It's a lot of work for zero reward

You obviously have to teach your kids to wear them though. Especially once they start hitting about preschool age...

..But I'm just spit balling here lol

Clothes

I definitely think clothes are a human influence, Mobians don't really wear clothes generally. Most of our cast wears like- shoes and gloves + a jacket at most

Even Sally's original design followed that pattern

I think Mobians who grew up around humans, or have at least spent a long time around humans have adapted to wearing clothes most of the time.

Take Amy who has always worn clothes, and has basically always been in a city, compared to Sonic and Tails, who have always been living fast and free, yk?

Or Knuckles who grew up on a secluded floating island compared to Rouge who literally has a government job lol

Ofc, Shadow exists, and he doesn't wear clothes but he's also this half alien science experiment on immortality who grew up in space and then was put into stasis for 50 years and then suffered from severe memory loss

So... I feel like he may be a huge outlier lol...

I'm sure clothing for Mobians is a huge tell on where everyone's from, because Mobians from Holoska, Empire, Soleanna, and Spagonia, do not all dress the same, even if the patterns on their coat are similar

Basically the same thing people do when it comes to cultural clothing and skin color

I think it'd be cool if Mobians would've naturally progressed into face paints and hair(fur?) dye instead of clothes without human interference

Other

I was thinking about animal habits that carry over to their Mobians counterparts, then I started thinking about crows lol

Crow type Mobians, no matter where they live or are from, would typically gravitate toward maximalism and shiny garbs. But then I was like... Okay that's cool but where do stereotypes begin and instincts end?

Then I learned that crows might not actually collect shiny things and that it's probably a myth and decided to apologize to the crow Mobians I made up for stereotyping them lol

My question still stands though !! I also feel like someone asking a Mobian something along the lines of "So do you wear necklaces because wild crows like to collect shiny things?" Would be more of a human thing lol

I feel like Mobians in general have a better understanding of each other's instincts than humans do, which can definitely lead to inappropriate questions

But crows are still hoarders though... So maybe if raised by their own they all do tend to wear a maximalist style, but then would that end up being nature or nurture?

And THEN I was talking to my girlfriend about this and she was like, "well maybe these hypothetical crows all grew up hearing these stories about their ancestors that could be true or false, but they've just been honoring this traditionally shiny clothing for so long that it's second nature"

and was like wow.... And now there's even more questions to ask and we've been talking about hypothetical crows for a long time and I feel like we're getting too far from the original point bc now we're getting into specifics instead of more broad topics

But I figured I'd put it here anyways

[nicklloydnow]

“The article was published on the Kremlin's main propaganda website, RIA Novosti. It was written by Sergey Karaganov, a "Doctor of Sciences in History" and a political scientist. The article’s full title is "There is no choice: Russia will have to launch a nuclear strike on Europe".

And this is not his first such material. Less than two weeks ago, Karaganov published a similar article, the essence of which boils down to the same thing – Russia "must launch a pre-emptive nuclear strike on Europe." It was published in Profile, a private magazine.”

“As the video illustrates, it doesn’t matter much who starts the war: when one side launches nuclear missiles, the other side detects them and fires back before impact. Ballistic missiles from U.S. submarines west of Norway start striking Russia after about 10 minutes, and Russian ones from north of Canada start hitting the U.S. a few minutes later. The very first strikes fry electronics and power grids by creating an electro-magnetic pulse of tens of thousands of volts per meter. The next strikes target command-and-control centers and nuclear launch facilities. Land-based intercontinental ballistic missiles take about half an hour to fly from launch to target.

(…)

Unfortunately, peer-reviewed research suggests that explosions, the electromagnetic pulse, and the radioactivity aren’t the worst part: a nuclear winter is caused by the black carbon smoke from the nuclear firestorms. The Hiroshima atomic bomb caused such a firestorm, but today’s hydrogen bombs are much more powerful. A large city like Moscow, with almost 50 times more people than Hiroshima, can create much more smoke, and a firestorm that sends plumes of black smoke up into the stratosphere, far above any rain clouds that would otherwise wash out the smoke. This black smoke gets heated by sunlight, lofting it like a hot air balloon for up to a decade. High-altitude jet streams are so fast that it takes only a few days for the smoke to spread across much of the northern hemisphere.

This makes Earth freezing cold even during the summer, with farmland in Kansas cooling by about 20 degrees centigrade (about 40 degrees Fahrenheit), and other regions cooling almost twice as much. A recent scientific paper estimates that over 5 billion people could starve to death, including around 99% of those in the US, Europe, Russia, and China – because most black carbon smoke stays in the Northern hemisphere where it’s produced, and because temperature drops harm agriculture more at high latitudes.

(…)

We obviously don’t know how many people will survive a nuclear war. But if it’s even remotely as bad as this study predicts, it has no winners, merely losers. It’s easy to feel powerless, but the good news is that there is something you can do to help: please help share this video! The fact that nuclear war is likely to start via gradual escalation, perhaps combined by accident or miscalculation, means that the more people know about nuclear war, the more likely we are to avoid having one.”

“Article 92 of Russia's constitution lays down that if the head of state is 'incapable of fulfilling his duties' his temporary successor is the prime minister. That would be Mikhail Mishustin, a competent, low-key 57-year-old bureaucrat who is hardly a household name even in Russia.

But real power after a palace coup would lie elsewhere, probably with a Kremlin insider. Nikolai Patrushev, the national security adviser, is one candidate. His well-connected, fast-rising son Dmitry, currently agriculture minister, is another. Any such new leader would make Putin the scapegoat for the disastrous Ukraine war, and try to end it as quickly as possible.

A neat solution, but not a durable one.Many in Russia fear that what lies ahead is a 'Time of Troubles' (Smutnoye vremya), in which feuding clans battle for wealth and power. The phrase originally referred to the lawless period after 1598, when the tsarist throne changed hands six times in 15 years.

(…)

According to Igor Girkin, a military veteran with a wide following among nationalist Russians, last weekend's chaotic and violent events show that another 'Time of Troubles' has already started.

(…)

The state-controlled energy giant Gazprom has two militias: Potok (stream) and Fakel (torch). The defence minister Sergei Shoigu has Patriot, which hires experienced soldiers on hefty salaries of £5,000 a month or more — a fortune by Russian standards.

These legions serve many purposes. Apart from spearheading Russia's efforts in Ukraine, the Wagner Group — in particular — spreads Kremlin influence across Africa and was largely responsible for saving the brutal Assad regime in Syria. Yet the existence of these 'military contractors' is a sign of how deeply Russia has decayed. It would be inconceivable for British companies such as the energy giant BP, or the catering contractor Sodexo, to have private armies, let alone for Ben Wallace, the Secretary of State for Defence, to have his own personal fighting force.

(…)

The Kremlin is belatedly trying to rein in these legions. But the lesson of the past few days is that central power is weak. Just like the boyars [barons] who clashed in the first Time of Troubles, the big players in modern Russia know that they need their own private militias, and the bigger the better.

As these rivalries boil over, long-buried ethnic grievances could resurface too. Regional chiefs, who have long chafed at Moscow's intrusive rule, could all too easily try to assert their independence. The Muslim peoples of central Russia — Tatars, Bashkirs and others — could exploit the crisis to regain the freedom they briefly tasted more than 100 years ago.

(…)

In Britain we may have largely disconnected our oil and gas supplies from Russia, but that is no cause for complacency if the giant country spirals downwards into disorder. Perhaps the most alarming prospect is 'loose nukes': the thought of Russia's stockpile of thousands of nuclear warheads falling into the hands of terrorists.

(…)

Decision-makers in Beijing have long looked hungrily over their shared border at Russia's natural wealth: hydrocarbons, minerals, timber, water and crops. It would be ironic if Putin's attempt to rebuild the old Russian empire ended in his country becoming part of the new Chinese one. Yet these are not the worst outcomes. A post-Putin junta or strongman could turn the country into a nuclear-armed rogue state like North Korea or Iran, bristling with weapons and determined to make trouble. Given our repeated failures to contain Putin's ambitions, we will struggle to deal with a regime truly bent on nuclear confrontation.

(…)

One thing in all this is certain — change will catch us flat-footed. Over the past 30 years I have watched in dismay and anger as our governments have eviscerated Britain's expertise in understanding Russia. Spies, diplomats and analysts with lifetime experience in Kremlinology, their skills honed by the high stakes of the Cold War, were cast on to the scrap heap.

(…)

Whether we like it or not, the Putin era — with the illusions it fostered in Russia and abroad — is coming to an end. Be prepared.”

[llatimeria]

So, basically, for much of Tetris's history, people believed level 29 was the "last" level of Tetris, as the speed of the blocks would get so high that no human could do anything but lose; the blocks would go so fast that human hands physically could not control them. However, Tetris does not get any faster beyond that point, so if you're capable of playing level 29, you're capable of playing hypothetically infinitely.

Except Tetris, the original version for the NES, is not a hypothetical. It's a physical object, an item you can touch and hold, and it has limits. Many classic arcade-style video games have honest-to-god killscreens, where the game breaks so badly that it becomes completely unplayable. Pac-Man, famously, has a killscreen that garbles half of the playing field and doesn't spawn enough dots for the level to ever end. Tetris was assumed to be no exception, but because of the presumed-impossible difficulty of level 29, the community considered that to be Tetris's killscreen, and all high-leveled Tetris play centered around level 29 being the absolute end of your run, no matter what.

But, and if you've heard literally anything about people getting insanely good at retro games, you'll know what comes next. Of course, someone figures out how to control the game past level 29. In 2011, Thor Aackerlund discovered a technique now known as "hypertapping" (which is exactly what it sounds like, tapping very very fast) - and became the first person to play level 30.

But hypertapping wasn't enough. It was still stupidly difficult to get to, let alone past, level 30. Then this guy named Cheez shows up and finds that using an even more absurd technique, called "Rolling", which was even faster than hypertapping. People weren't just hitting level 30, but then 40, then 50, and then all the way into the 90s. Since all post-29 levels have the exact same speed, once they mastered rolling, they were pretty much good to play forever.

With levels 29+ conquered, now players could face the real killscreen of Tetris. A Tetris-playing AI got the first crash, but since it was playing a very slightly modified version (to show a larger score number, because the vanilla score counter didn't have enough digits), it only kinda-sorted counted. So the community picked apart the game's code to find where the game could hypothetically crash while completely unmodified - and found the current human record was not that far off.

So the entire community fucking scrambles to be the first person to crash Tetris, but then were confounded by another technically-not-game-ending-but-still-pretty-much-impossible-for-a-human bug; after level 138, the game stops choosing the colors for the blocks from where it's supposed to, leading it to display some truly heinously color palettes. Most of them are just ugly, but a few make the blocks you're placing next to invisible. (This was actually known about before the AI even crashed the game, and part of the reason the AI could get so much further than humans; it didn't need to visually see the blocks.)

Just next to invisible, though. You could still sorta see most of the blocks, and when you pass the level, the game pulls a new color palette, so if you can tough it out long enough to get 10 lines, you're probably gonna be able to continue your game for a while after that. It's annoying as hell, but not impossible. So, of course, the runners start getting past them and brushing up against the crashable levels.

And by runners, I mostly mean a 13 year old boy who goes by the online handle Blue Scuti. He'd skyrocketed into fame in the Tetris community relatively recently by achieving scores and levels that most adults couldn't even dream of, so of course he was among the first people to get past both impossible-palette levels, and he was able to keep going.

The game doesn't always crash in one specific spot, though. It just starts having a chance to crash after a certain point. You might have to perform some specific actions in specific windows of time to get it to crash on purpose, and it's much more likely that you'll lose control and lose your run before you achieve that goal.

Blue Scuti missed the first crash opportunity in his run. He was the first person to get that far at all, so it'd be a record regardless, but he was determined to win. He somehow keeps his cool, despite being a literal child with thousands of eyes on him (this was streamed on Twitch, of course), and never loses control of his stack, all the way until he reaches the next crash opportunity all the way on level 157.

And he fucking does it. He gets a single line clear in the middle of level 157 and the game just stops. It completely crashed. A 13 year old boy nicknamed Blue Scuti is the first human being in history to crash Tetris in this way. He is the first person ever to see Tetris's real killscreen. This game is over twice his age, and he is the first to kill it dead.

This kid fucking rules.

(if you want more detail, I learned basically all of the above from this video by aGameScout, please watch it!!)

So apparently the pro-Tetris scene is exploding right now because a 13 year old nerd just reached the game's true killscreen for the first time ever

[blindrapture]

WEDNESDAY JULY 13TH, 2011 ("Operation: RIse Against Fear")

12:32 AM We’ve hit the Kentucky border. Great. Like I care.

12:40 AM Donnie’s trying to grab my hand. I’m trying to drive! >_> Gah. One-track mind.

12:44 AM ..sorry. .____.;; I didn’t mean to get like that. I.. I don’t know. I just don’t know.

12:56 AM I hate.. I hate something. Myself, probably. It’s who I always hate, after all. I am the sickness, and I’m down. ..ooh-wah-ah-ah-ah? God, that was cheesy. …heh. Like, wow. That was insanely cheesy. Even for me. Hahahahahahaha. Ha. What was I even mad about earlier? Ah, who cares.

1:49 AM Hitchhikers!

1:50 AM They kicked us out of the car and drove off.

2:29 AM I did not miss the slowness of walking. "It definitely sucks." We can’t even listen to music. And I've got an Alice in Chains craving! "We didn't have any Alice in Chains." Yeah, it was kind of burning in the back of my mind even still. It's "The Man in the Box," I want that song. It was in Rock Band 2. "That's a good song. That was in Rock Band?" I'm telling you, the best setlists in either the games or music industry were in those games. "I liked Guitar Hero 3." Yeah, see, you're missing out. There's a whole thing, I can prove algebraically that Rock Band was leagues above Guitar Hero. I mean, RB3 was seen as a weirder setlist, but I think it just needed more time to grow on people. The fact of the matter is, the RB trilogy is unrivaled. You'd be hard-pressed to find a single mediocre song. Case in point: “Pull Me Under” is Dream Theater’s only hit single in their, what, 26-year career, yet when Harmonix decided to give them a song in Rock Band 2, they instead chose “Panic Attack.” Neversoft played it safe in Guitar Hero 4 and chose the hit single, while Harmonix made sure to choose a song that would be downright impossible to play on all instruments. Harmonix knows what they’re doing. They don’t just choose the popular songs; they choose the songs that will be fun to play. Because every member of Harmonix is a musician in some way. Who better to craft a music game? And, y'know, Harmonix were the creators of Guitar Hero. They made the first two, then went off and made Rock Band as just.. a Bigger and Better kind of thing. Meanwhile, Guitar Hero gets Neversoft assigned to them, and look, I love Neversoft! I grew up with the Tony Hawk games! THUG and THAW were my childhood! But Neversoft are good at making skateboarding games. They're not musicians; they can't compete with Harmonix, and they'd never beat them at their own game. ...literally! ...I mean. Am I going on? "I like it." :) Ah, Harmonix! You and Valve were my all-time favourite video game developers.

2:38 AM I remember reading an article, an interview with a couple Valve employees. They talked about the way Valve works. And it was like first fuckin’ contact with an alien species! They said that there are essentially no higher-ups in that company, no set agendas, no status quo, no conventional business structure at all. The way they decide what game they’re gonna make next? Someone experiments and makes a little demo— entirely by themselves or with whoever else wants to help— and tries to get more and more people to help him make it. That is it. Can you believe it? o_o "o_o" So the only reason Half-Life 2: Episode Three never came out was because nobody actually got around to finishing it. ..I’m sure there were more complicated reasons than that; I respect Valve more than that.

5:35 AM Decided to stop at the nearest hotel. We’ve been walking for so goddamn long, though we’ve been trying to make it easier by talking about just about anything we could think of. Video games, movies, even resorted to talking about porn at one point. (There were opinions to be had...) Map says we’re about halfway through Kentucky now. We’re making great progress! But then again, we just lost our car, so.. this next leg might be a lot slower than before. And plus we’ve still got to pass through Missouri before we reach Nebraska, let alone even California... ugh. Anyway, Donnie and I are talking about our plans for this journey. We know, maybe even more than trying to get to any physical destination, we’re gonna have to figure out how to find the Cipher. Me, I’m kinda hoping we’ll run into EAT again. She has her suspicions about that thing. “It’s a Fear. It’s no different from the Harlequin. It’s planning something. When we get past a Fear unscathed, we're not safe, our backs are turned. And that one knows a lot about us.” I.. don’t know what to say to that! She could very easily be right. But in the end, I told her the fact that EAT knows so much about us is also what makes it our best bet at the moment. It’s a being of knowledge; we’re X factors. It’s not gonna attack us unless we prove ourselves to be a threat. Besides. The Ciphers seem to be the answer. We scared Archie and the Musicians last time, didn’t we? ..right?

1:11 PM Awake now. Nice sleep. Dreamed of sweet foods. ..wow, Donnie looks great today. .w.; Well. Time to resume our long walk. ^^;;

1:13 PM Wait a minute. We just entered a rabbit hole, didn’t we? I mean, we’re kinda now in Rachael Land.

1:20 PM Oh, now all the Rachaels are crowding around me. I’m making sure Donnie stays close. ..oh, now they.. left. o_o

1:24 PM Donnie says they’re all glaring at her. ..I don’t see them doing that.

1:30 PM I asked a Rachael where I might find the exit to this rabbit hole. She asked which exit I wanted. I said I wanted to go to Nebraska, specifically, but anywhere close is good. Then she looked at Donnie and said she’s not helping us. So now we’re on our own. Now, I admit, I can see them glaring. Tiger Stripes is at the ready.

1:37 PM Some Rachaels are coming our way. Some are cracking their knuckles. I am so ready fo oh Donnie says she’s got this.

1:38 PM holy shit. o_o She really does got this.

1:40 PM She fucking wiped the floor. Owo;; Oh shit, look out, second wave! She threw her frying pan on the ground and pulled out the empty rifle. She's swinging it like a baseball bat.

1:44 PM That one’s got a gun. Donnie’s got her hands full. I’m not just gonna stand here.

1:45 PM HELLO MEET X-PLORER Got her hand, dropped the gun. Good. Now the Rachaels are coming for me too. Tiger Stripes, we’re gonna have to strike harder than we really want to.

1:48 PM RACHAELS WITH SHOTGUNS FUCKING REALLY? "Hold onto your hat, let's go!" yes, ma'am!!!

1:49 PM DOWN THIS ALLEYWAY

1:50 PM MOVE IT BLUES BROTHERS …WAIT

1:85 PM A voice speaks to me: "Do you want to see?" Repression, obsession, lay your character bare. You make a good pair.

4:44 PM Ugh. Where the hell are we now. It’s a house. …OH hello dead person on the floor. I’ve gotten pretty used to this by now. Where’s Donnie there she is hi. Okay. Next step is to figure out where we are.

4:48 PM This seems to be a town. Not sure how big it is yet. SCREAM what What’s happening.

4:49 PM ..a lady ran out of the house and called us monsters. o_o Now she’s chasing us!

4:58 PM Crowd of people, hoping they’re people and not zombies!

4:59 PM Yep, people. The crowd’s shutting up, the lady stopped chasing us. A man’s coming up to find out what the hubbub is.

5:00 PM The lady called us monsters, and we said we weren’t. The crowd’s pretty sure we’re not monsters. The lady said we killed the mayor. We said we didn’t; we just arrived via rabbit hole. The crowd believes us. Now the dude’s gonna speak to us in private.

5:40 PM He told us what was going on. Apparently, we found a sanctuary under armed protection. Apparently, we’re in East Saint Louis, Illinois. Just a little further west is the state of Missouri, actually. Apparently, the organization protecting this town calls themselves “Operation: Rise Against Fear.” It's a reference to the international organization, but word is flaky on if they're actually related. And apparently, the organization’s logo is a faceless suited man flipping off the slender man. Are you starting to get the picture, journal? Okay, last clue: A good portion of the people in this town keep a Guy Fawkes mask with them. These guys are Anonymous. ..well, I mean, to be exact, they were formed by various members of Anonymous. That was kind of a big project, after all. But this was one of their branches. They must be at least competent at defending people?

5:45 PM The guy I’ve been speaking to tells me a black dog’s been spotted. Well, he said the black dog. Because apparently the Black Dog is a Fear. It’s said to be a deathly omen.

7:21 PM Donnie and I have decided we’re not gonna leave these guys on their own. We’re spending the night with these guys. We support their cause. Besides, it’s about time we stood up to the Fears.

8:19 PM Dinner time, hell yes.

8:22 PM Good god. The whole town has gathered into this hall just to receive some food. These guys look skinnier than I expected.

8:30 PM I was just asked why I’ve got so much meat on my bones. …I don’t. o_o I'm kinda unhealthily thin?

8:41 PM This man wants Donnie to go with him. I asked if I can go along. Donnie assured me she’ll be fine. ..well, okay. ._.;;

9:05 PM Donnie’s back. She says the man told her we look like Fears; people don’t trust us. Apparently, it’s because we look too young, too normal. Everyone around here’s pretty much either starving or dying of some disease, and here we are, two relatively not-bad-looking kids with absurd clothing and strange weapons just waltzing on in via rabbit hole! So he gave her two Guy Fawkes masks to disguise ourselves. And then he tried to make some advances on her. She says she took good care of that problem, though; Donnie can really take care of herself. ..she winced a little after saying it. ._.

9:39 PM The people around here are offering us a place to stay. Well. I mean. I guess sleeping would be nice!

11:00 PM Knock knock. I’ll get it.

11:01 PM Oh, it’s an Anon. See, Guy Fawkes mask. It’s the mark of the culture. :3 ..o____o SHUTTHEDOOR WHATTHEFUCK WHATTHEFUCK WHATTHEFUCK THATWASN’TANANON OHMYGOD OHMYGOD WHATTHEFUCK That guy’s mask wasn’t a mask, it was his face. o__e Its mouth moved, its eyes blunk, it breathed. whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck

11:05 PM Donnie took a peek outside. There’s no one out there now. Ohhhhh, I have a bad feeling about this.

11:08 PM Guy Fawkes masks? In the trash.

11:11 PM I WISH SHIT WOULD GO WELL FOR US. I wish shit would go so well for us. ohgod

11:13 PM At the heavy advisement of my cohort, I’m.. I’m going to try to get some sleep.

11:20 PM We’re talking about methods of relaxation and stopping panic. Donnie knows a lot about it. ..hugging her.

11:35 PM ..are you sure you’re okay, ma’am? After all the excitement and after that guy.. “I’m fine.” You’re shaking. “I don't want to talk about it.” Well… you don't have to. But I want to say something. Donnie, you've been an angel to me, placing your trust in me and working to keep me up and going. Ever since we met, you've been an unexpected friend, flawless and selfless. And I need to do the same for you. I need to back you up. I need to listen to you. And I need to make sure you know that we're in this together. I've got your back. …"Thanks." We're not in a safe place here, I don't think. We're getting back on the road tomorrow. "Yeah. That's a good idea." ...I'm going to hug you now, if that's alright. "Please do."

(Attached: “As an aside: The narrative of the world, as it were, doesn’t quite match the flow of Jordan’s journals. When he and Donnie were trapped in Blackpool, a team of scientists in South America had the idea to sail to Antarctica and hold a global convention with lead scientists from the rest of the world. Contrary to what one might expect, that actually worked. In fact, the plan may have been communicated a little bit too well. When the day of the convention came– I believe the date was June 30th, not that it’s important– the hall was well beyond capacity. One headcount later, and they realized they were trapped on a frozen continent with Camper. Jump forward to this date, that of July 13th, and the narrative of the world had hit a sort of rock bottom. China had completely abandoned its west half, electing to migrate east for reasons I’m actually not all that sure about. I think it was a nasty case of Eldritch Bear. Either that or the abundant fertile soil in the east. Yeah, maybe it was that one. South Africa, however, may have been the only country not totally lost of hope. Their local sect of Rise Against Fear-ites were quite successful in recruiting members, and as much as the Fears like to boast about their ‘eldritch’ this and 'incomprehensible’ that, they don’t really fare well when against literal armies of gunfire and all-terrain vehicles. But yeah, generally people were fucked. See, for another example, Sweden. What’s that? You can’t see it? Not anymore.”)

[PREV LOG] [TABLE OF CONTENTS] [NEXT LOG]

[bluedragonbooks]

Adjacent 11

Running.

Running across a soggy field in the rain.

Elric had the Wizard over one shoulder, his Sword in his other hand and was legging it for a rocky outcrop. Gerry and I had 2 packs each and followed in hot pursuit. In between complaining about his dignity; and extorting Elric to "run faster you fool"; the Wizard fired off the odd fireball which seemed to have zero effect on our pursuer; other than possibly making it even more angry.

I risked a glance over my shoulder and measured the rapidly shrinking distance between myself and the biggest beak I'd ever seen and compared it to the distance to the rocky outcrop. We weren't going to make it.

A moment of terror induced clarity made me reach into my satchel, grab a vial, loosen the stopper and turn and hurl it straight into the beast’s gullet before turning and running.

About 20 paces later the growls of the beast stopped, and there was a distinct thud; I risked turning and having a look as the beast's momentum carried it to my feet. I prodded it, possibly dead, but definitely asleep. I called the others back and had Elric relieve it of its head to be sure.

"What did you do?" inquired the Wizard.

"Sleeping Syrup, enough to lay-down 50 Men for an amputation. My whole stock unfortunately, minus the 3 drops I used on Gerry."

"Shit, ... 3 drops" said Gerry, "Yeah" said Elric.

"What was it exactly?" I asked pointing at the beast.

"Griffon" said the Wizard, "Very territorial, seems it took offence at us taking shelter in its cave and lighting that fire."

"You don't say" I added sarcastically, "Good Eating?" I asked.

"No"

"Ah, well at least we've still got it's cave." I ventured.

"It'll have a mate, and possibly a clutch at this time of year. Have I mentioned they're territorial?"

"Bugger" said Elric.

...

"Gerry, are you any good with a bow?"

"Average, I can hit a shield at 100 paces - but that's about it."

"That's good enough. Wizard, are you willing to spring for a Bow and a Quiver full of arrows? I figure you owe me that much for saving your scrawny arse from the Griffon."

"What are you planning Dafid?" I must have hit a nerve; he usually calls me ‘lad’.

"I was planning to restock my Syrup at the next village using my supply of Mother Syrup. Now, I don't expect I'll be as lucky with a hand thrown vial next time we encounter a Griffon or something; But I was thinking; We normally dilute 1 measure of the Mother Syrup with 100 of Brandy to make the Sleeping Syrup. I reckon dipping an arrowhead in a mixture of Mother Syrup and pitch or pine tar would let Gerry give Elric a bit of help in an emergency, and at 100 paces at that."

...

As a village Healer you're just as likely to be called to tend an animal as a person. Now, I knew a large Horse weighed as much as 5 big men.

"Wizard, that Griffon - would it weigh as much as 5 large horses?"

"Probably."

"And are we likely to meet anything much bigger?"

"Other than a Dragon ... no."

Right then, so a Griffon weighed as much as 25 large men. 5 drops per man, 25 drops to the measure … 5 measures of Sleeping Syrup was enough to put 25 men to sleep, or a Griffon ... hopefully.

One Measure of Mother Syrup made 100 measures of Sleeping Syrup, which meant one measure of Mother should be enough for 20 arrows. Except, the only test had been at twice that dose, and I had no way to safely test a lower dose. Unless we went back to the cave …

So, if my 10-measure vial of Sleeping Syrup had taken the Griffon down quickly; best to use 2 measures of Mother Syrup for 20 arrows ... to be on the safe side.

Now we were getting somewhere. I just had to figure what I could mix it with to make it stick ... that wouldn't spoil it; and then figure out how to test it.

...

"Gerry, do you trust me"

"Of course."

"Do you trust me enough to let me stab you with a small pointy stick tipped with Sleeping Syrup?"

"Last time I was out of my head with lust for a day and a half."

Shit - Time to fess up. I'd been hoping to avoid this.

"This Sleeping Syrup should only affect you for 6 hours; and it'll just make you sleep; last time ... last time I used an enchantment ... but only to make you horny and help with your shyness; and I'm sorry but I forgot to break the enchantment before I left, and I only remembered later.

"Oh, so you tricked me ... tricked me into wanting you?" He sounded hurt.

"No, I didn't trick you; I knew you wanted me, and I wanted you too. But we needed to get away ... and even after the lights were out ... remember ... remember you were too shy to come into my cell, even after I took my clothes off."

"You came back to my cell 3 times after the lights went out, and you still didn't come in. I didn't use the enchantment until then."

"Oh" I could tell he was still hurt.

I kissed him, but he didn't respond.

"Would it make you feel better if I let you stab me instead? and let you use me while I sleep?" This wasn't ideal, I needed to monitor how it affected someone and being the someone would complicate that.

He grinned at the thought. "I'll let you stab me, but I get to fuck you first, and then again tomorrow after I wake up."

"You can fuck me every night for a week if you want."

I started by taking off my clothes.

[yoshimonster]

Blog Post #4: It’s Dance Time

So I didn’t write a blog earlier, even though I definitely could have after all of the dancing I did. It was a standard Friday and honestly I can’t wait to not go back next week. I honestly hope that I have significantly turned over my life in other aspects so that my default the ongoing dance sting will reduce. I’ve heard that bad things only get better if you put enough time and energy in other aspects of your life.

Well, honestly things can’t get any worse. They probably can but I am really hoping they don’t. I actually spent forever today cleaning my room and it was quite an intense endeavour. I think I’ve probably cleaned about 50% of it and honestly I have to keep it this way to avoid future conflicts and issues with finding stuff. The way that I’ve just been so unaware yet aware of random stuff in my room is actually ridiculous. And to be honest, the only reason I am moderately aware is because of unavoidable developments that happened in my life over the past year/year and a half.

The (post?) pandemic boredom is actually hitting pretty hard – it feels like I’ve woken up from a long slumber where I was the only one dreaming. Like those dreams you have where you fall but never really hit the ground at all. Constantly in between two locations; your neither on the ground or on the cliff – just up the air somewhere sort of lost, floating like the breeze. Unfortunately, the pandemic made me re-evaluate more than just surviving studies wise, it also made me re-evaluate my life habits at home and definitely we still spend way too much time at home with this recession happening all around the world. I guess this is actually a blessing in disguise but as usual I’m so very accustomed to that instant gratification lifestyle.

Right now, I’m cram watching Haikyuu, a sports volleyball anime, which is extremely popular, though I’m fairly late to the train, so I can talk about more with my friend. The origin story in Episode 1 is so heartwarming and the animation is so beautiful; to draw like that would actually be so cool! Alas, it really isn’t my forte.

Besides that, I tried to have an honest conversation with parents but it did turn into a lecture as usual. I think my point was mostly about expressing care in various ways, which if I’m being completely frank, they have done more than enough. It just sucks that things weren’t more clear to me earlier in life and I really missed quite a few experiences with them. It also has to do with how much I use technology and how I never really was physically bored enough to try to be more creative. These days I’m working on it and sometimes time just flies and other times it really doesn’t. There’s so much to catch up on!

Finally, just a quick update from this morning and Saturday, have sort of resolved the money situation with the Taylor Swift tickets it will cost me quite a bit but hopefully will be able to be a bit more conscious moving forward. Another thing, I have been feeling much better about my room – I finally cleaned more than half of it and am going to finish up while catching up on YouTube/Barbie movies. The amount of plans I’m making is actually insane – like this is what I get for being a hermit all semester long. I also am going to do more maths revision, haven’t done so for a few days now because of the room situation.

If you guys made it till this end, thank you so much, although I’m pretty sure no one in reading this update about my life. But yep as usual, will be dreading dance again every Friday – it’s basically a weekly humbling/ridiculing session directed at me. What a high case of self-consciousness that is. I honestly found it better to perform when I was in newer environments.

-yoshimonster-

[shadowsshowdown]

Deus Ex: Human Revolution Shadow’s Showdown 56

 The Zero Hour – Part 2.

Sarif Industries David Sarif's office. The 0 hour.

The alarm did not stop, and the robotic, female voice continued to repeat in a loop: Environmental malfunction, laboratory sub-section six. All lab chiefs, please report in. Adam took his phone out of his pants pocket and dialled the Head of Cyber Security’s number.

"Pritchard, I'm at Sarif's so maybe you can explain to me the reason for this alarm in subsection six of the labs," he said in a nervous tone. "I'm the one who triggered it. We're checking security with Laura and Connor. Everything is under control," he replied. "You should have done it earlier!" "Princess was resting. There was no time."

Jensen didn't want to argue with him, especially since Sarif heard everything so he just hung up.

"Everything's fine, boss. Pritchard must have checked new security features. The alarm is about to go off," he informed. "For God's sake! Couldn't he have done it earlier?" "You know him boss. He's always been like that," The Security Chief evaded further explanation, not wanting Laura to have any more problems. Admittedly, she had the day off, but in an emergency situation she should be at the company. For Pritchard, these emergencies happen every second. "You're right. If it weren't for his outstanding skills, I would have fired him long ago."

Sarif Industries Underground parking lot. 10 minutes past midnight.

Five black armoured vans impetuously broke the railings prohibiting access to the parking lot. A security guard fell out of the guardhouse armed with a pistol, seeking to respond to the intrusion. A single shot hit the concrete ceiling, and the man's body shook with spasms. A short burst from an automatic rifle perforated him like a sieve, spraying pearls of blood into the air. His bulletproof vest did not help. The bodyguard fell inertly to the ground next to his baseball cap with the Sarif Industries logo. His dead stare was frozen on the wall of the watchtower, partially stripped of paint. The roar of engines filled the space. Another series of shots were fired. A woman's scream, a man's terror. Several guards fell lifeless before they could reach for their holstered weapons. The faint lights of the ceiling lamps blinked rhythmically. Almost 50 people poured out of the vans like a sea. They were dressed in black military-style body armor with red elements and balaclavas. One of them, probably the squad leader, ordered his subordinates to split up with a hand gesture. Half moved down the fire stairs, while the other moved through the double doors of the warehouse, which were blown up almost without any sound.

Sarif Industries David Sarif's office. 15 minutes past midnight.

Another message appeared on the screen in Sarif's office. This time it came from the lobby. Adam was beginning to have doubts, but if something had happened, he would know about it.

"Boss, I'm going back to my office. I need to make sure it's still Frank." "But, son!" David tried to stop him. "Please secure the office. No one but me is allowed to enter!" he ordered.

Sarif was far from believing that someone could have attacked them, but he followed the order. After all, that's what one has a Security Chief for.

Adam fell out into the corridor, and his body was immediately paralysed by pain radiating upward from his knee. The man clenched his teeth, cursing in his mind that this was happening just now, and with a nervous movement took out a Vicodin from his pants pocket. He took two pills at once. Athene was not at the reception desk. Apparently she took the alarm seriously. The elevator was upstairs so he rode it down to his office, from which he took his gun, the Colt revolver that had been his faithful and reliable companion for many years, and some spare ammo. He also put on a bulletproof vest over a brown turtleneck sweater.

After leaving the office, he looked down at the lobby. There were only guards there ready to take action. He wanted to speak to Pritchard in person, but protecting the boss was his priority at the moment. Adam was afraid for Laura, but if Connor was there, he was sure he would be better protection. Jensen returned to Sarif's office and used the code to go through a door covered by an shell-proof wall. He was surprised to see David pointing a gun at him, which he lowered as soon as he saw that the newcomer posed no threat to him.

"I checked the Lobby. Only our guards are there," he informed.

Another wave of pain almost dazed him. With difficulty, he managed not to show anything afterwards.

Sarif Industries Chief of Cyber Security’s office. 25 minutes past midnight.

Pritchard was pleased to see everything going according to plan. The video surveillance showed perfect tranquillity, even all too beautiful. Laura felt a growing anxiety. Every alarm had the same effect on her, so she partly tried to control that unbearable feeling of fear. No one suspected that what they saw was far from the truth.

"The area is clear. Sarif's dog returned to the doghouse. Whaler's squad can enter," one of the guards heard in the earpiece.

Everyone left the lobby, heading for the floor. A hand could be seen in the ajar door of one of the restrooms, and the interior of the room was filled with corpses of real security guards. Cameras mirrored the hallways, but Frank didn't really have control over any of them.

"I think we can cancel the alarm in about 10 minutes," Pritchard muttered. "See? I have everything under control. You'll make it to Washington in time for tomorrow's speech."

Sarif Industries Sewers and ventilation tunnels. 30 minutes past midnight.

Three people reached the right manhole, which was supposed to be in the station that provides water supply to the building.

"Fuck, Namir! You're fucked up for this shit walking!" growled a man with light hair and the posture of a bull. He looked down at his heavy boots in disgust. "Shut the fuck up, Barrett!" replied a thin man with a body that looked like muscles stripped from the skin. "Calm down, both of you!" the only woman on the team tried to bring order. "We have a job to do. The Whalers have already entered, the Belltower too, so move your fucking arses."

A foreign accent, probably Russian, could be heard in her speech. The left half of her head was shaved bald, and the right half showed shoulder-length dark hair. She had an earring in her nose, similar to those which bulls had.

"Holy shit, didn't they have smaller hatches!" complained Barrett once he managed to get out. "It's a good thing we're talking through Infolink, otherwise the whole fucking company would already know about us," commented Namir.

Yelena opened the metal door and looked out into a basement corridor full of pipes, fuse boxes and cables. It was illuminated by a pale, yellowish light. All three of them found the place where the wall was weakened in a split second. They seemed to know exactly what they were doing and where to go.

"Smash the wall Barrett," ordered Namir. "Smash it, knock it down, kill it," he said with displeasure. "I'd rather fuck some nice, tight arse. Like that one which the girl with blue hair had." "After all, you didn't like her because she squalled like a butchered hog," Namir reminded. "True, but once she quieted down it was great."

Lawrence clenched his robotic hand into a fist, which he effortlessly turned a piece of concrete into rubble. They passed through a hole from which metal bars protruded, and tight corridors led them further down. Through thick pipes, they climbed higher up to a square ventilation grille. Barrett could barely fit through the rather cramped space and made it almost impossible for them to get out. They found themselves in a storage room with cleaning supplies.

"Subsection six of the labs," Namir said. "We are in place. You know what to do."

They all activated their cloaking systems, then stepped out into the corridor. Yelena moved nimbly on her robotic black limbs, which looked like the legs of a ballerina. They didn't fire a single shot. They were here to settle the matter quietly, hitting a specific target without making a mess. Of course, they couldn't vouch for the Belltower squad or the Whalers, whom they didn't even know and didn't know why they were here.

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. 35 minutes past midnight.

"Berlin reports that Delta squad has taken position. We are waiting for further orders," the Belltower mercenary informed through the communicator. "Roger. Do not fire without order. Prague out."

A man in black armour with red elements and a balaclava looked out the door into the corridor as soon as he heard the explosion.

"Fuck, this wasn't in the plan," he cursed under his breath. "Who the fuck is responsible for this mess?!" he yelled through the communicator. "It's none of ours. Maybe the Whalers? Besides, it was nothing big, it looked like some sort of diversion. Berlin out."

A group of people dressed in scientists' uniforms ran out of the room from which the noise came. Several Sarif Industries guards directed them to the emergency exits, but they never reached them. They were killed along the way and it was done quietly.

"Knife of Dunwall reports that the Whalers are already in the labs," said new voice. "Great. Those explosions are you guys?" "Confirmed. Actions necessary during a fire drill. Moving on to the next point of the plan. Starting looking for data." "What about the cameras? I don't want to have all the security on my neck." "We have full control over security. The boys are keeping an eye on everything. Knife of Dunwall out."

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. Forty minutes past midnight.

Five people sat on the floor in one of the empty offices. They were all dressed in black pants, tucked into knee-high leather boots, grey shirts and navy blue coats. Their faces were covered by masks resembling those protecting them from gas. Attached to each person's head were two cables. The end of one was in a computer socket, while the other was plugged into a data storage disk. Their eyes blinked with dizzying speed, opening wide after a moment. Then it was possible to see strings of numbers and letters scrolling through them. The Whalers were unaware of what was happening outside. They were locked in a room and had only one goal – find and copy relevant data, then destroy the original one. Their brains scanned through millions of files, filtering them piece by piece. They knew that what they were looking for was in the server room G.

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. 45 minutes past midnight.

After the alarm was called off, everyone returned to their tasks. Only a few felt some strange anxiety, but they explained it by nervousness before leaving. In the main hall, they were finishing packing the necessary things and verifying data. The order of speeches and their text were being checked.

"I hope this alarm hasn't disturbed you too much in your preparations?" said Dr. Reed, who was just coming down the wide staircase.

She observed all the research stations full of microscopes, test tubes, containers and boxes. On the walls of the huge room, occupying at least two floors, between which the ceiling had been removed, hung screens with X-ray images. From the shorter sides protruded rooms reaching from the ceiling to halfway up, storing toxic substances.

"Just in time Dr. Reed!" shouted one of the scientists. "We couldn't start without you." "Begin what?" the woman asked in surprise, rolling her eyes at the faces of those gathered. "Celebrations. I know it's still early, but I think a little toast wouldn't hurt." "Out of the question," protested the woman firmly. "We don't drink alcohol before the DC." "It's just a cup of lemonade. Please do not deny us," urged Nia. "All right, but we don't have much time." "In that case, let's drink to the success of our research!" suggested Eric.

Everyone raised their plastic cups in a toast gesture. Megan was about to say a few words at the urging, but was called back to the office. Nia and Eric also left to check carefully if they had done everything they should. The rest decided to spend their free time talking with friends. There were jokes and a huge amount of laughter. Someone climbed up on one of the research stations to make a few more toasts.

The eyes of the five Whalers stopped moving, freezing in a ghastly goggle. Everything they were supposed to get was on a disk lying on the ground, and all of the original data was destroyed. A moment later, the door to the office opened. A man in a red coat, black pants and knee-high boots materialized, then took the disk with him.

"Delilah," he said, and the heads of all five exploded. Immediately the rest of their bodies disintegrated to make identification difficult. "Knife of Dunwall reports that the Rat Plague operation has been successfully completed," he said into the communicator. "Roger. Prague out," he heard in reply, and the connection was cut. "Berlin, begin Operation Harvester." "Yes, sir. Berlin out."

The scientist who had entered the research station was just about to make another toast.

"Let's drink to our friendship and..."

The man didn't have time to finish. He wobbled and fell over onto his back hitting his head against a container made of hard plastic-like material. His body rolled inertly onto the graphite floor. A bullet hole was visible in the middle of his forehead. Someone screamed, someone froze into immobility. Chaos reigned. No one knew what had happened. At first they thought their colleague was joking. Someone brave enough checked the heart rate and shook his head sadly. Soon the room was filled with Belltower mercenaries. They murdered without blinking an eye, without a shadow of mercy they killed those lying down with a shot to the head. They knocked over bottles, threw down equipment, started fires. One of the scientists managed to run to the wall and hit the alarm button. He sank to the ground with his arm outstretched, and the room was filled with red flashing lights and wailing sirens. Soon Belltower had most of the area under control.

The Tyrants after receiving the report about the data takeover, proceeded to destroy everything they could. A symphony of gunfire rang out in the corridors and offices. Fire extinguishers exploded, people screamed, documents burned. Chaos reigned.

Sarif Industries David Sarif's office. Ten minutes to one in the morning.

"You unnecessarily panicked," Sarif complained. "Those are the procedures, boss," replied Adam. "Yes, yes, I know son," he cut the subject, not wanting to hear about the details. "Since everything is in order, we can already fly to Washington." "Let's wait some more..."

Another alarm interrupted their conversation. This time the previous message was joined by another about fires and explosions. Jensen knew that this was not a fire drill. He also knew that Megan was in the labs. Panic paralysed him.

"Can't this day be normal?!" growled David. "Adam, check what happened, maybe it's just some kind of malfunction, a misreading of the situation." "I was just about to do that," he replied, heading for the exit. "Wait. Use my elevator. It will be faster. Do you remember the code?" "0451"

The boss nodded his head. He looked like he wasn't worried or afraid at all. He looked like he was sure that his company was like a fortress that no one could destroy.

Sarif Industries Office of the Head of Cyber Security. Nine minutes to one in the morning.

"Laura, check sectors L1-L4. Connor, you take care of L5-L7, and I'll check the rest," Pritchard ordered.

At the moment there was no time for discussion and argument. The situation looked serious so they had to hurry. They sat down at the computers that stood at the back of the room and tried to figure out what might have happened.

"I don't have access to the cameras in the labs," Connor informed them. "Frank! Someone hacked the cameras in the lobby! We saw a false image the whole time," the woman said. "Fucking hell!" "Connor, let's try to take over at least one camera. We need to know what happened there," Laura said, although deep down she already knew the truth. All she needed was confirmation and she felt it wouldn't make her feel any better.

Together they launched a simultaneous attack, pushing out the enemy hacker.

"Frank, you need to see this," Connor ordered.

The woman was unable to utter a single word. She sat in front of the monitor, covering her mouth with her hand. The frame showed the scientist's body perforated like a sieve. The walls were smeared with blood. Moments later, music flowed from speakers throughout the company.

Boom boom boom boom Gonna shoot you right down Take you in my arms I'm in love with you Love that is true Boom boom boom boom

The message was obvious but only Laura knew it. She felt herself suffocating as if someone had pumped all the air out of the room. In a split second she realized what she had done - she had murdered innocent people. The woman knew Damien was unpredictable, but not to that extent. She herself opened the gate for him, which was a piece of code, the one considered safe, but about which Connor had doubts. She had lied to him. Unknowingly, but she lied.

"Pritchard, where's Megan. Did she report in yet?" Adam's voice spoke through the office speaker. "Her G-P-L implant shows she's moving through micro-chem labs," the Cyber Security Chief replied. "Do you have a camera view?" "No, something from outside is interfering with it. Laura and Connor managed to take over one of them but not for long. We saw a dead scientist. It's not good, Jensen. You need to hurry up."

Sarif Industries Subsection six of the laboratories. One o'clock at night.

Adam was somewhat reassured by the news that Laura was safe. This allowed him to focus on his task. During the elevator ride, he checked the cylinder of his Colt. He involuntarily clenched his hand on the grip so tightly that it went numb. Subsection six greeted him with the stench of burning, gunpowder and spilled chemicals. Most of the rooms along the corridor he patrolled stood in flames. Scattered pieces of paper, containers and destroyed doors lay on the ground. Glass crunched under the soles of his shoes as he walked forward. His hearing was sensitive to every sound. Fluorescent lights and severed cables dangled from the ceiling, hissing and crackling in an abrupt manner. Jensen crouched by the man's corpse he encountered, turning it over on its back. In addition to multiple bullet wounds on his torso, he found one on his forehead. Such methods of execution were used by mercenaries or special units. There were many of both so he couldn't clearly pinpoint the perpetrator. He needed more clues. When he stood up and looked in front of him for a split second he had a feeling as if space had curved. It seemed to him that he saw someone. Shaking his head, he looked again. This time the corridor was completely normal so he decided that it was just an illusion. He should hurry, but in addition to finding Megan, he also wanted to know the culprit. The leg spoke up at the worst possible moment. The Security Chief opened the Vicodin package tossing the pills onto his palm. There were only three left. It had to be enough. He took one and moved on.

"Help! I'm begging! Is there anybody out here?!" he suddenly heard a call so he quickened his pace.

The corridor turned right and continued straight ahead, but the way was blocked by a bulkhead. A scientist standing on the other side was pounding his fists on the thick glass, which showed bullet marks.

"Please help me. This is a slaughterhouse. They're all dead!" he yelled, and panic burned in his eyes. "You'll be free in no time," he assured, though it was insincere.

Adam pressed the button on the wall responsible for lifting the partition, but he knew perfectly well that it would do nothing. He tried to call for help through the communicator he had in his ear but no one responded.

"I don't want to..."

Another body slumped to the ground. Adam spotted a man. Unnaturally massive, but he disappeared too quickly. He wade further ahead, trying to call Pritchard, but the communication was broken.

All  chapters can be found: [AO3], [dA], [Wattpad] and [Tumblr]

[luxaryllis]

Oohhh the twisted wonderland older sibling riddle gave me an idea. How would the situation be if the younger sibling grew to be afraid of their sibling and mother.

Like, they wouldn’t show it in front of them, but they’d avoid them as much as they could but at the same time try to follow their rules purely out of fear of gaining negative attention.

Basically like a sibling who wishes to disappear as much as possible by not gaining their attention or ire. How would it be with Riddle Pre- and Post- Overblot? Especially post-overblot where the sibling is like ‘its okay’ but like they still flinch or avoid him out of fear.

TWISTED WONDERLAND RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS WITH A SCARED!YOUNGER SIBLING! READER

Note: Anon... OHMYGOSH!! THAT WAS EXACTLY WHAT I HAD IN MIND WHEN I WAS WRITING THE TWST WITH SIBLING READER!! AKSHAJBDHW

Ahem... anyway! I put the title as Scared!Younger Sibling!Reader, but I really do mean, "absolutely traumatized sibling reader who possibly has anxiety".

But also! This has been giving me SO MUCH BRAINROT! I received this ask while I was finalizing the Aph!Italy!MC with TWST ahaha.

Also, as I'm typing this, it's like 7:50 PM-

I might post this the next day, or maybe before I sleep- Idk lmao-

And in this, the reader is 2 years younger (or 1 and a half, up to you) than Riddle. They attend NRC as a first year (they skipped grades, let's say; or they were a special exception). Also, I wrote this with one of my OCs in mind, but it is also pretty inclusive, I hope.

Also, this will be in headcanon form (with little interaction bits), so if you wanted something else, feel free to request again, and I'll change it! And this doesn't have ANY comfort at all; I left it pretty sadly-

Anyway, let's get to it!

This has a Part 2, here. Part 2.5 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here.

Warning: Angst (tho there is a few comedic points here and there), Trauma, Mentions of Violence (they weren't specifically described), Possible Traumatic Triggers, No comfort, Domestic violence, Child abuse, tell me if I missed some

Pre-Overblot!Riddle

🥀 Growing up with a horrible mother like Mrs. Rosehearts (I seriously need to know her actual name; it's gettig tiring typing 'Mrs. Rosehearts' all the time-) is absolutely horrible and traumatizing.

🥀 Like, look what she did to Riddle! Her stupid "diet" on him made him short and probably underweight!

🥀 Anyway!

🥀 In all seriousness, because of your mother's influence, your older brother is practically like your mother.

🥀 And as Riddle's younger sibling, your mother would constantly compare you to Riddle.

🥀 As if, in her eyes, Riddle would always be better than you.

🥀 And if you failed to meet her expectations, let's just say that it gets a bit messy.

🥀 I headcanon that Mrs. Rosehearts can be pretty violent if things really don't go her way; like, a slap or a hit to whoever makes her angry.

🥀 But Mrs. Rosehearts is a doctor, so she would heal you right after.

🥀 It doesn't mean it wouldn't hurt, though.

🥀 Riddle's no better either.

🥀 Like I said, Riddle becomes just like his mother.

🥀 And so he also gets a little physical sometimes.

🥀 But nothing too much.

🥀 Also, Riddle's a huge tattletale.

🥀 If he sees you doing something against the rules, he's telling mother.

🥀 If your mother isn't there, he'll punish you himself.

🥀 His punishments aren't as bad as your mother's.

🥀 Because he's a kid, and isn't as experinced as your mother.

🥀 So he doesn't go overboard.

🥀 And when your mother gets home, he's telling her.

🥀 And the cycle goes on.

🥀 Riddle, while growing up, has had this view that you, his younger sibling, are in his shadow.

🥀 Or that, you are something that he and his mother should discipline.

🥀 He doesn't have much feelings of 'love' because he didn't know exactly what it was like.

🥀 Also because he thought that his mother's way of doing things for him was 'love'.

🥀 Tough love, except I really don't think it is love.

🥀 Riddle would be a very stern and strict older brother.

🥀 No matter how old he is, he would always nitpick at every single thing you do, and lecture you if you get even the slightest thing wrong.

🥀 You've always wanted to stand up to him; maybe tell him to go away; or tell him that what he's doing is wrong.

🥀 But you've always been too afraid of the possible punishment and lecture you'd get afterwards.

---

"That's wrong! You should do it like this! Always! Like! This!!" Riddle shouts at you, each word like poison filtering out of his mouth.

Your mother had left the house to go to work, so it was just you... and your older brother.

Your mother had tasked you to answer this workbook about College-level Mathematics; you were only 5. Riddle was 7.

Riddle had seen you use a method that your tutors, or your mother had taught you. It wasn't in the book either.

One of your mother's rules: "If it wasn't taught, then it's wrong."

You had broken a rule.

So, Riddle took it upon himself to personally teach you the "correct" method to solving.

You felt otherwise. You've done this method before, you've always got the same answer as the one using the "correct" method. In fact, you made this method yourself and feel pretty proud of doing so.

As Riddle lectured you, you thought to yourself, 'Why are you so mean? Why is mother so mean? Do you guys even love me? Will I ever be good enough? Please... stop it... stop shouting... stop hurting me... stop being mean... I don't like it...'

You suddenly felt your nose starting to feel like its burning; its getting 'irritated', you reminded yourself. You also feel like your eyes also feel weird. Your eyesight is getting a bit blurry, so you look down. Suddenly, the floor seems very interesting.

'Oh no... am I crying- no, lacrimating?? No... no, no, no! Not in front of him...'

"Hey!" You jump at the sudden shout.

"When someone is talking to you, stand up straight, and look the person in the eye!! Did mother and I not drill that into you!?" Riddle exclaims.

You take a shaky breath and looks up to Riddle.

Riddle nods in acknowledgement, not approval, it never was approval, and promptly leaves.

Once they are sure that the door is closed, [Name] slowly allows their tears to fall. They move to their bed, and cry into their pillow.

'Why... why... why, just why?! Why is it always like this?!'

---

🥀 So when you see Riddle playing outside with Trey and Chen'ya, you feel overly envious.

🥀 To any deity or gods up there! To the Great Seven! Why would you bless HIM of all people with a friend?!

🥀 Why would they let Riddle be able to do what he wants, without punishment?!

🥀 Why, why, why, why, WHY?!?!

🥀 You've never glared at Riddle behind his back so badly before.

🥀 Is there something you did wrong?! Is it because Riddle was better than you!? Is it because of that, he was able to play, and learn a lot new things; without punishment?!

🥀 It's not fair.

---

A few days after Riddle's 8th Birthday, you've noticed that he would always leave the house during his self-study time.

One day in particular, you heard a couple of noise just outside the window of your room.

Your mother rarely let you open the blinds or curtains of your room, in fear that you might get 'influenced by those lowly un-disciplined children'.

While you would usually never do so, for fear of getting punished, curiosity got the better of you. And you opened the curtain a bit. Not too much that it's noticeable, but enough for you to see.

And man, do you wish you never did.

What you see is Riddle, and two other people; one a purple-haired cat beastman, and the other a normal human with green hair, playing with each other. The boy with green hair were running around with his hands out, as if he were trying to hit someone. Riddle and the cat beastman were running away from him, though.

What game is that? Then again, you've never seen or played a single game in your life. So of course you wouldn't know a thing.

But why does your chest hurt? Why does your heart feel like its being squeezed? Why are your fists clenching themselves? They're going to bunch up the curtain and make it wrinkle...

Why can't you seem to move away from the sight? Why does it feel like something is pulling your mind towards it, but at the same time pulling away?

Why are bad thoughts going on in your head? Why are you tearing up? Why are you crying?

You forcefully let go of the curtain and cover your window immediately.

Your dominant hand moves up and clenches your heart, as you sit down on your bed.

Tears are flowing from your eyes, your nose is starting to get runny, little whimpers and hiccups are coming out of your mouth. No matter how much you try to stop them, no matter how hard you cover your mouth, bite your lip, they still come out...

Over a gazillion thoughts running around your head. But a few that constantly come back and hit really hard are:

'Why?'

'Why him?'

'Why Riddle?'

'He's mean, and just like mother...'

'Why does HE get to play?'

'It's not fair'

'It's not fair'

'IT'S NOT FAIR!'

---

🥀 When you become a student in NRC, you've always dreaded your turn for your dorm assignment.

🥀 While you knew that it was highly unlikely, you prayed to every being, deity, god, power, to the Great Seven, even, that you wouldn't get into Heartslabyul.

🥀 Not with him, please...

🥀 But the world is just SO obsessed with saying, 'Nope! Not today' to you, huh?

🥀 When you heard the words, "Heartslabyul", you wanted to smash something, anything, you wanted to disappear, or that a blackhole would open up right under you and suck you in!

🥀 But no! You've always had to get the shorter end of the stick...

🥀 The first few weeks in Heartslabyul were like even worse than the Underworld!

🥀 It was HORRIBLE!

🥀 You've done EVERYTHING you could do not bring attention to yourself.

🥀 But it's just always been your last name that gets everyone's attention.

🥀 You've always hated your last name.

🥀 You've never wanted to have your last name.

🥀 Because while most would believe that the Dorm Leader would be lenient to you, being your older sibling and all, he's not.

🥀 In fact, you can go so far to say that he probably does not care about your well-being, unless it affects him or your mother.

🥀 Because Mother Knows Best...

🥀 You've heard of the Tart Stealer, the Magicless Prefect, the Monster Student.

🥀 While you admire them for their bravery (and possibly idiocy), you want nothing to do with them.

🥀 You weren't present when Riddle was challenged for the Dorm Leader position; you heard that he was challenged, though.

🥀 But you purposefully went to miss it, and stayed in the library the whole time.

🥀 When you get back to the dorm, it's a mess and a half.

🥀 And when you reach the place where you know the fight took place, you see an unbelievable sight.

---

You look around Heartslabyul.

What happened?

The rose bushes are all uprooted from the ground, there's a bunch of leftover paint splattered around.

Most of all, it's... quiet...

Heartslabyul, while a very strict dorm, is pretty noisy and eventful most of the time.

There's a weird static feeling in the air.

As you reach the place where the duel for the Dorm Leader position was held, you hear certain words coming out of someone with Riddle's voice,

"The roses are fine being white... the flamingos are fine being pink..."

No...

"I like putting honey in my tea more than sugar cubes..."

No..

"And... I like milk tea more than lemon tea.."

No.

"I want to chat with everyone while we eat..."

No.

No.

No, you didn't say those before!!

"I wanted to spend more time with Trey, and everyone else..."

No.

No.

No.

No, no, no, no, no!

NO!

You then hear wailing. It must be from Riddle.

You then slowly leave.

You don't want to get attention on you.

Riddle never mentioned you.

He doesn't care about you...

Right?

---

Post-Overblot!Riddle

🌹 Riddle has tried multiple times to approach you after he's calmed down from his overblot.

🌹 However, no matter how much he tries, you just keep getting away.

🌹 You've always given some excuse, and he doesn't want to get mad at you at all.

🌹 He's done that enough already...

🌹 He truly wants to apologize.

🌹 He realizes that what he has been doing is wrong and wants to make it up to everyone.

🌹 During the "Make-up Unbirthday Party", Riddle notices that you were alone, and wanted to confront you.

---

As you were silently enjoying your food, you hear footsteps, and look at the direction.

To your despair, it was Riddle.

By instinct and second nature, you immediately straighten up and make sure you weren't doing anything against the rules.

"Ah! Dorm leader... how can I help you?" You ask, heart pounding in your chest, afraid of what his punishment may be for whatever you've done.

When Riddle stiffens and hesitates, you take it the wrong way.

'He must be really angry...'

"W-what rule have I broken, dorm leader?" You meekly ask, cursing yourself for stuttering.

You stiffen and close your eyes, waiting for Riddle to start shouting and screaming, but it never came.

"[Name]..." the way Riddle says your name was as if he were holding a hedgehog that may run away should his voice raise loudly.

You flinch as you see his hand move up, and suddenly start mumbling "I'm so sorry"'s as you stand up and quickly excuse yourself from the party.

Riddle quickly tries to get to you, "Wait!", he calls out. Suddenly, Trey his behind him and places a hand on Riddle's shoulder.

Riddle looks up at Trey and Trey slowly shakes his head at Riddle somberly.

Riddle feels his heart breaking, knowing that his relationship with his precious younger sibling might be impossible to mend back together...

Unbeknownst to him, his dear sibling has retreated back to their dorm room, and are crying into their pillow, as they have always done before.

---

END!

That was the end of that! So, how was it? My first take on full angst-

I hope it satisfies everyone! Feedback and comments are always welcome too!

By the way, this was posted on aroun 9:50 PM, I'm going to bed soon hahaha-

It took 2 hours, oh wow-

Anyway, I might edit any typos tomorrow morning-

Again, this already has a Part 2, here is the link.