#the sims card slot is fucked up

[wildestheart4ever]

My sister has demanded that I figure out the passcode to my old phone [Why, maybe she wants to use it??? She's been talking about replacing her current phone] and I'm like.....

Girl, I haven't used this thing in years, you think my shitty memory is gonna remember???

[bibleofficial]

so turns out verizon fucking locks all new devices for 60 days but just … failed to tell me or my parents before we got it to fucking MAIL OUT OF THE US -_-

[soullesslantern]

Guess who fucked up in class today by rebooting their phone, forgetting their SIM code in both their memory and their muscle memory, failed the 3 attempts to enter their SIM code and got locked out of their phone, resulting in them having to fucking maCGyver their phone's SIM card slot open with a god damn compass (the math kind) and is now dependent on schools WiFi until they can contact someone to help them deal with this

Hint, their pfp is a shroomish

[indescriptequilibrium]

wait putting the IMEI number on the sim card slot is actually so fucking stupid cuz U CAN SWITCH THOSE BETWEEN PHONES. THUS FUCKING UP EVERYTHING. AAAAAAAAAAA

[thatforgottenbasilisk]

Jonathan Sims Is Dead In The End

Chapter 6: Asch et al (1951) (AO3)

chapter summary:

The Asch conformity experiments (1951) were on how likely people were to conform to something that they know is incorrect. Participants were given a simple line-measuring task, and asked to determine which of the lines out of a series of options was the same length as a sample line.

The groups were composed of one participant, who said their answer aloud after most of the other people that they believed to be participants as well, but were actually confederates for the researchers. In the beginning, all said the correct answer aloud, until all confederates chose the incorrect answer; often, the real participant would choose the incorrect answer as well, in order to fit in with the rest of the group.

Sasha's standing in line at her usual coffeeshop on Wednesday morning, staring very intensely at the menu they've got written above the coffee machines. She's looking nowhere near the barista who's got a dark burn crawling up his neck, one that she Knows was the result of barely escaping something to do with the Desolation.

She hadn't seen anyone else with a Statement on Monday after work, nor had she seen anyone like that yesterday, so of course she's going to be subjected to it for an extended period of time today. She doesn't remember seeing him later on, when the hunger had first set in, but she supposes it's more likely than not that he'd simply quit before she would have had any idea that he had a Statement to give. The turnover rate at customer-facing jobs is much higher than at other sorts of places, so he'd probably just been lucky and dodged her when she'd been at her worst, last time around.

She doesn't want to change breakfast places, though, because she's been going here since before she was transferred out of Artifact Storage, but she might go back to eating frozen foods at home in the mornings for a while until she's sure she won't see him again, won't be tempted to take his Statement.

She's only got one person ahead of her, it's fine, she can manage for just a few more minutes while she gives her order and then stares at her phone for the rest of the time. The cashier takes the order of whoever's in front of her, and he pays in cash; she's waiting anxiously for her turn, hoping to just get it over with so she won't have to keep studiously ignoring the man.

The cashier dismisses the man in front of her, then turns to the man with the burn and goes, "Yo! Isaac! I'm taking ten, you got till?"

To her horror, the man with a burn waves off the cashier and moves to the till next to hers. She tells herself to suck it up, it's just a damn coffee order, it'll take two minutes! Two minutes of not taking a Statement, that's it! Doesn't matter that the three that she's had in the last two days have felt staler than ever because she's read them already, doesn't matter that Beholding's practically clawing at the back of her mind begging her to take it, she can't. She won't. She refuses to be like that again, become the thing she was, the thing that led to the end of everything as anyone knew it.

She says her coffee order too fast for the man- Isaac- to catch it, so she has to repeat it twice over. It's just a damned latte and a bagel, but she's so desperate to get away from the situation that she's managed to fuck up saying even that. She takes out her card with a trembling hand, staring down at the card slot, making sure she doesn't look up. Finally, the transaction is over, and she feels like a complete mess of a person but at least she felt no fear coming from the new cashier.

The coffee and bagel don't take too long, and she walks out of there like she's trying to politely run- which, to her credit, she is. She walks the rest of the way to the Institute, passing the metro exit she'd climbed up yesterday and the day before. She eats the bagel on the way, trying not to drop too many crumbs, not wanting to attract pigeons to get trampled underfoot in London morning foot traffic, and finishes it just as she gets to the doors.

The paper that the bag came in goes straight into the bin just as the clock above Rosie's desk ticks to 9:00, and she ducks quickly past with a wave as she practically dives through the door to the Archives.

She's got a plan for today. She couldn't enact it yesterday, still too early in the week, but today she can make an attempt. She'll have to act fake casual, which she practiced all of yesterday to mixed success, given that Tim was clearly still jumpy around her, but she also doesn't have much of a clue why that originated in the first place, so. Mixed success.

She goes into her office with a soft greeting to everyone else in the Archives, keeping with her "night-owl" sort of attitude that she'd had at this point in the timeline- it wouldn't do for her to "suddenly" get very used to being an insomniac and act awake at all hours of the day. She puts her bag down and starts poking through some papers from that box Elias had pushed at her on Monday, grabbing a few fake statements that she'll spend until lunch disproving.

She puts her purse in the way of the door, a temporary doorstop for until she gets a chance to go out and buy some general office supplies. She'd been using the communal ones in Research for far longer than she's proud to admit, and borrowed enough pens from Tim that she probably owes him a decent debt already.

Speaking of Tim... he's still uneasy around her. He's somehow managed to shift himself and his desk so that he constantly has a clear view of her in her office, without seeming at all odd to the others. She hasn't got any idea why he would be doing this, what she managed to do wrong in just a moment or two on Monday and continued to do wrong since, but she hopes there'll be a way to fix it. Their communal spiral into suspicious paranoia about one person hadn't gone well last time, she highly suspects that it won't go well this time, especially if she's the object of suspicion this time.

All of this is why, come lunch, she waits until all of the assistants are in the breakroom before going in herself, and clears her throat to get Tim and Martin's attention. She waits for Martin to nudge Jon, and for him to take his headphones off, before she tries out what she's been planning since Monday evening.

"I know that Tim, Jon, and I have already known each other for a while, and I don't want you to feel like you're being excluded or anything, Martin, so... do you all want to go out for drinks on Friday night? I'm hoping this isn't going to seem like a- a sort of 'boss' thing, because I just want us to be friends down here. It's a small department, so there's no reason for me to be stuffy and uptight about things like this, and we could all benefit from getting to know each other a bit more now we don't have any other coworkers, so... yeah?"

Contrary to how she's saying it, she'd actually worked on the phrasing of this request for much of last night, making sure it sounds just casual and unsure enough to be nonthreatening for Martin, as well as to convince Tim and Jon that she actually does want to go out instead of making it a 'team-building' thing like their old Department Head at Research had done sometimes.

Martin doesn't hesitate for long before nodding his assent, because he'd always been that kind of social person who wants to be invited somewhere but won't make his own events- anxious and extroverted at the same time, she remembers when she'd been like that, when she'd first started out and hadn't known anyone. Tim is quick to agree, too, just after Martin does, and the quick, near-unnoticeable glances he throws between the two of them betray that it's intentional. He's probably trying to ensure that Martin doesn't end up alone with her, judging by his hushed conversation with Jon on Monday.

Jon waits a little longer to agree, as well, and Sasha smiles to herself. She knows that it's probably going to be awkward, at first, but she wants things to be different from last time. She wants there to be a trust between them that wasn't there last time, she wants that spiral into paranoia that most of them had had to be damn near impossible this time around.

She wants to integrate all of her assistants into this group, into trusting each other and her, so that one suspicious event- or even a series of them- doesn't put one in isolation from the others, doesn't lead everyone into thinking that they're going to be the next Jane Prentiss, no matter how true it ended up being. The suspicion and hostility, though as subtle as they could manage, hadn't done Jon any favors last time, and she doubts that it will again. The events that followed, the consistent isolation of everyone by the end hadn't done Tim or Martin any favors either.

She smiles, a nice, normal smile, and says, "Great!" before grabbing her own lunch and bringing it to her office.

She won't force herself on them now, not when Tim and Jon know that she's a workaholic and Tim clearly started looking more and more nervous the longer she'd been in there. She knows, once the door to the breakroom closes, that he's probably whispering his suspicion of her to the others, but she hopes to be able to fix whatever she'd done on Friday, and she doubts he's being specific on why she isn't to be trusted, anyway, if Monday was any indication.

She goes back to the fake statement she'd been pointing out inconsistencies in earlier, and hopes that maybe, just maybe, this'll be the start of a happier ending.

[tarraxahum]

✨ An extinguished candle gives off too much smoke? No problem *SLAPS HER HAND ON THE CANDLE AND BURNS HERSELF*

✨ Need to check if a skillet is hot enough. No, I won't touch it, what am I, stupid? *TOUCHES IT WITH A METAL FORK AND THEN TOUCHES THE FORK, BURNS*

✨ The damn cord is stuck in a socket, surely if I tug harder-- *RIPS THE SOCKET OUT OF THE WALL*

✨ The sack of potatoes got stuck on a door hinge, surely if I tug harder-- *RIPS THE DOOR OFF THE HINGE*

✨ Can't get a SIM-card out of the slot, wonder if it needs to be clicked in a certain wa-- just kidding, I'll just yank it harder *BREAKS THE SIM SLOT AND HAS TO TAKE THE PHONE TO THE REPAIRS*

✨ This girl at school condescendingly patted my cheek, I better return the favor 'cause what the fuck was that *ACCIDENTALLY FULLY SLAPS THE GIRL ACROSS THE FACE*

from creators who brought you the great 00s hit:

✨ I'll just go pick my hat up from the ground, why would I need to look around for that *GETS A METAL SWINGSET TO THE HEAD AND FLIES THE FUCK AWAY*

Anyway, really, why do I play barbarian or berserk-adjusted classes every time there's a roleplay setting, a mystery for the ages.

[justtogetthrough]

Before loading up the video game I decided to fuck around with my new phone now that Apple let me back into my account after 5 fucking weeks.

On one of the phone calls the person had mentioned I would need an eSim for the iphone (god I hate even admitting I bought an iphone) and so I was like okay, add to the mental list I need to contact my provider to ask how to get that.

I'm with a budget provider because I never leave my house (and also... $24 a month) but I quickly discovered just now they don't support eSims. Phones need to be "compatible" in order to use their service. I PANICKED. I bought this phone outright (open box, but still) and spent FIVE WEEKS fighting with Apple to let me back into my account and now I find out it's NOT EVEN COMPATIBLE?!

Anyway, I googled it, apparently American iphone 14's use eSim but in Canada they use actual sim cards. Lord, let me tell you, my hands shook while I pried the case off it to see if there was a fucking sim card slot or not. With how my life goes, I fully expected there to not be one.

Miraculously... there is. I removed my sim from my android and put it in the iphone and it worked, I don't even need to do anything it seems, because within 5 seconds I got cell phone service.

I would have cried if it wasn't compatible and I had to go up to a big telecom and pay $100 a month. This is typical of my impulsiveness - I have been mentally pondering switching to iphone for over a year but did zero research on it and so never considered that it may not be compatible with my carrier. The actual purchase was an impulse of its own. My house had just sold and my android phone was pissing me off so I went for it without putting much more thought into it. And then the 5 weeks of account problems where the phone was unusable because you can't use iphones unless you sign into an apple id, and I only have one email (I tried to think of a new one but couldn't), and I didn't want to lose all my media from when I had an ipod touch.

Apple customer service was horrible and they truly don't care about customers and it was such a stressful 5 weeks. I had given up hoping I'd get into my account and resigned to having a bricked new phone until I could come up with a new email address and then I'd have to see about begging Apple to reimburse me with store credit to replace the things I lost (the most important being Carl Sagan's Cosmos series).

Anyway.

My heart is still racing.

My friend has been bugging me lately to get my new phone set up and going (I have to log into all the apps, arrange them etc) cuz she really wants to facetime with me and such and not have to make me get my work phone to do it. She's sleeping right now before work tonight so when I know she's up and getting ready for work I'mma be like "hey" because she keeps asking when my text bubble is going to turn blue (for imessage) :')

Anyway so that was a wild ride tonight. I'm going to actually load up the game now lol fuck

[astraxh]

My parents took out the SD card from my phone and put in a second sim like thanks but i dont really need or want extra minutes if i;m not going to be able to have over half of my phone’s memory jfc

[lambourngb]

fossils ?

more of 3x04 coda - where it's probably dated but 3x03 ended on such a cliffhanger, who could have guessed we wouldn't see Alex for 2 episodes?? Also I thought Kyle's injury was going to be handled differently, lol.

***

His mission had revolved around finding out just what they knew about aliens and if there was a benevolent element at work in the background, after the abject failure of the military’s involvement at Caulfield. Finding out there was a power structure operating, that not even his dad could access, had appealed to the part of himself that measured his honors against his father’s long, unremarkable career as a NCO.

However, at no point had he wanted the organization to learn more from him, than he learned from them, but with the turquoise now under the narrow focus of the white-coated technicians, he had a sinking feeling that he failed on that front.

Worst-case scenarios flickered through his thoughts, keeping his mind from finding rest as he laid flat in a featureless, windowless room on a bare cot. The Lockhart machine had sent the facility on lockdown, with all members recalled to start the analysis of data. Alex had, for once in his life, used his prosthetic leg as an excuse to plead fatigue as he reviewed his options silently. He was still only a few days into it, and while his discharge papers were still wet from being stamped, Ramos had only presented knowledge as his employment offer, not a binding contract.

Yet.

They had the turquoise that Michael had given him, and there was a pendulum of consequences swinging before him. Could Deep Sky find more answers than Michael, propel the science behind space exploration, or would they use the rock to unravel the secrets that Alex vowed to protect, reveal the existence of survivors outside of the original crash?

He couldn’t stop thinking about what they were doing with the rock. Had he wiped it down enough, rolling around in his pocket, so that his story of lucky happenstance stood up? Or had Michael left any source of his DNA on it? Could it be used as a tracker of some kind? The way it had reacted to the Lockhart machine worried Alex.

It resonates with our tech, I don’t know why.

Alex closed his eyes, pondering the resonation of electrical current. The circuit had closed with the presence of turquoise, activating and focusing the power of the machine. With the “switch” of turquoise identified, could Deep Sky use it to source the power? Isolate the frequency of radiation to identify more objects that used the same resonance as the Lockhart Machine. He couldn’t help but remember there was a half-completed alien ship console in Michael’s bunker. Maybe it was fully complete, a lot could happen in a year.

He leaned over the cot and fished around until he located his discarded pants to pull out his cell phone. Rubbing his finger over the lifeless screen, he considered what to do next with trepidation. As soon as he had entered Deep Sky, he had powered it off and removed the battery and sim card out of precaution. Paranoia. No matter how he had left things with Michael, he should probably let him know the turquoise was no longer in his possession.

Wincing as he tried not to picture Michael’s response to that, he carefully slotted the sim card and battery back together and powered it up. The screen lit up with missed calls. Thirty missed calls, from Maria, from Isobel and from Greg. Then a flurry of chirps signalling rapid-fire incoming text messages. All from the same person. All from Michael.

Pick up your phone.

Where the fuck are you?

You’re not home.

Pick up. Goddamn it. If you blocked my number-

Stop fucking your library twink and call me

Alex. Please. It’s important.

Alex dropped the phone on the bed, and started to reattach his prosthesis to his leg. The skin was still red, protesting the long use without a break, but he scarcely paid that any mind as he rolled the liner into place and pulled his pants up around his waist. His fly was half-done when his phone rang.

[xcziel]

Between Dusk and Dawn

@alxina & @xantissa

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Characters: Wu Xie/Wang Can Characters: Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Can (DMBJ Series), Wang Meng (DMBJ Series), Liu Sang (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling

Relationship: Wu Xie/Wang Can

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, AU, Undercover, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, First Time, Angst, Humor, Romance, The 10 years when Wu Xie was a mob widow Summary:

Summary:

When Wang Can stumbled onto Wu fucking Xie while hiding abroad, he expected everything but being told to play a goddamn honeytrap on the man!

Sex he could deal with, but emotions were not supposed to be a part of this.

-

Wang Can set down the water bottles and the food containers on the tiny table that came with his room, gritting his teeth at the lack of foresight on his part when he’d chosen to get the cheapest hotel possible - and the cheapest room there - when he arrived in Mumbai. When the only man here, who served not just as the receptionist, but also as the handyman and the room service person, had widened his eyes at Wang Can’s request for a non-AC room, he had felt confident in his ability to survive the heat here since he had spent the last few months in the intense heat of the Sahara, and the recorded temperatures here weren’t really that high by comparison. What he hadn’t factored in was that it would be this humid.

He flung the windows open, pulling the curtains wide so that there would at least be some air circulation in the room, and cursed again, sitting back on the bed with his food. He had arrived here yesterday and had spent almost an entire day sleeping off the jetlag, only waking up to ring for food. Which had taken a hell of a long time to appear, at which point he’d realised that it was only that one person running the entire establishment. So, as he felt mostly awake today, he’d set out to get his own food and found it far less of a hassle than trying to call the reception, where his call never got picked up even after several rings.

His hair kept sticking to the back of his neck no matter how he put it up, so, in a huff, he had pulled it all up into a bun and let it stay that way. If he wasn’t so incredibly tired he would have never been able to sleep in this heat like he had yesterday. He made his way through the food quickly, swallowing it down with the thankfully chilled water, then took out the new handset and sim card which he had purchased here. He laid them down on the bed, popped out the new sim card and inserted it into the slot in the phone, and set it to charge while he pulled out the phone he had used until now. He hadn’t switched it on even once after he decided to leave, and he hesitated a little before switching it on now. There was a chance that he could be tracked, but since he had decided to destroy it anyway, he thought that he could take a look at his inbox once before that.

As his phone came back to life, it started chiming with a dozen messages and Wang Can squinted to see who they were from. All of the recent ones were from Old Lecher.

He blinked at the first few, only slowly realizing that they were sent right after he had left that morning, sent only a few minutes apart from each other, and something twisted in his stomach as he read them.

Wang Can, where are you?

[sburbian-sage]

Strifing Without Specibus: How To Weaponize Your Sylladex & Other Harming Implements

One’s Strife Specibus is one of the more important tools in the game. Defending from Underlings and PK’ers, facing down the final bosses and Unreal Heirs, fruitless sparring with your Guardians and Coplayers, and the time honored tradition of getting into dick-measuring contests with your friends, seeing who can make the coolest or most absurd method. Some people allocate their Specibus accidentally, but as their improvised weaponry grows on them, they “main” it, trying as hard as they can to keep using it in future sessions. Your average Player will use a variety of Strife Specubi, from typical weapons like bladekind, pistolkind, and hammerkind, to weird choices like bookkind, peprmillkind, or rulerkind (measuring sticks, not governing bodies). Some people choose theirs because they like it, some choose for versatility, and some choose for metagaming purposes.

Sometimes though, the Strife Specibus isn’t enough. You’ve got some wimpy kiddy scissors that just won’t cut it while an Ogre prepares to swing. You’ve got a lance, but a winged Imp flies out of reach. You’ve got enough mangrit to toss a dryer, which you conveniently have on-hand, but no dryerkind, and the strange abstracted game-y nature of reality thus prevents you from attacking with it. In such cases, instead of un-abstracting your Strife Deck for the purposes of tossing it on the floor and stepping on it, perhaps you should get good and learn how to weaponize your Sylladex.

We’ve all been there. We’re having trouble fighting things, so your smarmy know-it-all friend tells you “a hyuk hyuk why dont u fite with your sllyadex yuo fucking scrub” and then doesn’t tell you how to actually do it. So you flail around, then learn how to do it kind of, and then stop doing it and rely on your Strife Specibus. Then years later, someone with less experience than you is having trouble fighting things, so you tell them “a hyuk hyuk why dont u fite with your sllyadex yuo fucking scrub". With typos, because you’ve turned into a silly mspaint strawman comic man. And then you cry. It’s a vicious, dehumanizing cycle, and you probably want to punch that guy or yourself, but you can’t because you don’t have fistkind you fucking scrub. You also can’t throw stuff at him, because you learned the bare basics of Sylladex fighting so you’re very shitty at it. So I’m going to help you break that cycle, and teach you actual lessons of fighting with your Sylladex. That way, you can walk right up to that dude, then toss a bunch of cream pies at him, then watch him scream and cry like a silly mspaint strawman comic man. Then you can do it to your past self. Then go mad with the power of throwing things.

The Fundaments: How Do I Shot Web?

I wrote this section after all the others because I realized too late that some of you might not even know the basics of weaponizing your Sylladex. That’s sad and pathetic, but it’s not unlikely, and best to put it here now rather than get accused of putting the cart before the horse later. Basically, you know how if your Sylladex is full, if you captchalogue something else, it goes flying out at high speeds? This is the mechanic you are exploiting. Catchaloguing an item such that it ejects something you’re holding on. The following section will be divided into Taos (even more fundamentals) and Zens (more advanced tricks), because I read a book that did this once and I thought that was cool.

Also, you should know that Hope players will be better than you at this. [Eject] is a Hope-exclusive ability that automatically ejects something from their Sylladex, and it’s very easy to learn, and it completely removes half the challenge from weaponizing your Sylladex (that is, finding something to put into the thing). While you’re scrambling for rocks so you can launch your fridge, they’ll be launching fridges at a whim. If you’re not a Hope player, then do what everyone else does. Bitch about it and move on.

Tao of Sylladex Strife: Know Your Fetch Modus

If you’re going to be using your Sylladex to fight, know how it works. Even babies know how to pick stuff up, but sometimes babies get confused by how their particular Fetch Modus actually works. And maybe you’ll get confused even if you’re not a baby (read: teenager), particularly if you get dropped into a new Session and the guy whose place you’re taking is a hipster and decided to grab one of the most esoteric Fetch Modi known to man. So make sure, before you even THINK of mis-using your Sylladex for violent purposes, that you understand how it works. And check the back, because there might be settings.

Once you’ve done that, you need to re-learn it again. This time, understand how it works in combat. Particularly, how does it eject, and how can you use it? FIFO and FILO Sylladice will eject the earliest item. Hashmap ejects the item occupying the slot you’re attempting to fill. Tree doesn’t eject so much as stuff falls. Array is wonderful for inventory management (even though I prefer Index), but it ejects stuff randomly. Enabling the “detect collisions” setting also makes inventory management easier, but considerably slows down the speed at which you can weaponize your Sylladex. How long does it take to actually captchalogue items? Is it complicated, or unwieldy? When something gets ejected, how does it fly? It’s somewhat complex, re-assessing your understanding of your Sylladex, but some general tips are as follows.

Knowing what will eject is better than random ejection.

More space means more stockpiling, but it becomes harder to keep track of your stuff.

Less space means you know your inventory better, but you have less room to maneuver and can’t stockpile as well.

Turn off “detect collisions” if you want to use your Sylladex in battle.

Short and uncomplicated captchalogue mechanics are better.

Tao of Sylladex Strife: Know Your Inventory

Now that you understand how your Fetch Modus functions, you need to understand its contents. Your Sylladex will serve two functions. An inventory, and an arsenal. “Inventory” basically means “stuff for use in puzzles and alchemy”, “arsenal” means “stuff I will use to commit murder with”. Just as it’s good to have a Fetch Modus that can serve those two functions, it’s good to have a balanced inventory. Key items, and tossable junk items. It’s also important that you know what’s going to be used. Safely take out keys, and toss your dishwasher, not the Glass Orb of Not Softlocking The Game.

As for your arsenal, understand what does and doesn’t make an effective weapon. Straight razors and sharp and fly fast and long, but they’re small and might break. Fridges are big and heavy, so they’ll do a lot of damage, but also destroy the environment and have bad range. Make sure as shit you’re out of range of your impact bombs when you let them loose, and don’t toss garden gnomes if you’re trying to knock back a Giclops. While they fill the role of bullets (with the Sylladex as the gun), they’re more like specialized tools that are all used by hurling them at people you don’t like.

Tao of Sylladex Strife: Know Your Surroundings.

Understanding your battlefield is not only important in general warfare, it’s also important when considering your throwables. While most Players who stick to their guns (so to speak) will mainly traverse their Land only looking for that which is essential to winning the game, you need to traverse it while understanding it on two levels.

The first level is the Strategic Level. Understanding your Land as a whole, and how to utilize the TOYS (Tools Of Your Surroundings) within. If you find yourself low on Sylladex weapons, where you can stock up, and what will you be stocking up on? What’s the fastest route to those locations from where you are? Does a certain location have better weaponry for the specific foes you’ll face later on? Stuff like that.

The second level is the Tactical Level. This is understanding your immediate surroundings while in a fight. What items can you quickly get to? Which ones should be used for ejection, which are best for softening the enemy up, and which are best for dealing lethal blows? Is it at all possible to make new items, like smashing the tile floors or breaking a window and captchaloguing the ensuing debris?

It’s a bit difficult to give blanket lessons on this Tao, but it’s always keep an analytical eye. You should know where your TOYS are before you need them, lest you get caught with your pants down.

Zen of Sylladex Strife: Art of the Adventure Gamer

You could tag SBURB as a lot of games. AR MMO survival psychological action adventure with house sim elements. Early-access too, considering how shitty it is. But don’t forget the adventure part. Have you ever played those point-and-click adventure games like Monkey Island or Sam & Max, and been amused with how the protagonists will take completely random and sometimes absurd objects because they could be useful? Well stop smiling, because they’re always right and you need to start doing that too.

First of all, you should already have been doing that. SBURB is also a puzzle game, and not only can potentially any item help you with puzzles, but every item could be useful for Alchemy purposes. Well now you need to add “killing stuff” to the list of potential uses for every item. Diagnose yourself with severe kleptomania and start acting like it. Grab everything you can! Use everything on everything! Stack up on Captchalogue Cards! Seriously, they’re dirt cheap for the Alchemiter. And speaking of Alchemy...

Zen of Sylladex Strife: Alchemy Isn’t Just For Weapons

Everybody loves going down to their Alchemy Pad and making new weapons, new armor, new tools, and a whole lot of useless bullshit. It reminds them of the satisfaction of upgrading their equipment or buying a new level of gear in the other video games they’ve played. Those video games, however, also tend to teach you that upgrading your ammunition or spending money on special ammo is a waste of time. It is, but not necessarily in SBURB. While improvised weaponry for Sylladex fighting is comparable to ammo, the ease of Alchemy means that not only is is usually cheap to make “upgraded ammo”, but they can be pretty effective. For example, throwing a couch at someone will hurt. Steel nails are very easy to acquire. A bit of Grist and the || function later, and you’re throwing a steel couch at someone. Not to mention, like that couch, some ammo is easy to retrieve. So next time you settle down to celebrate Gristmas, consider loading your Sylladex with some harmful objects.

Zen of Sylladex Strife: Mod Your Modus

Now that you know you should know your Sylladex, you should begin experimenting with it. If you can, grab a Modus Control Deck and a couple of extra Fetch Modii. If not, then you could try Alchemy or perhaps programming. Mix-and-match modii until you have something stronger, then once you’re settled, get to understanding that. Try to find a way to circumvent the weaknesses of the one you’re currently using. It’s kind of like sitting down at a gun bench, except your gun should also be able to carry stuff effectively, and is infinitely more confusing to comprehend.

Speaking of the Modus Control Deck, remember that you can use it to change the Fetch Modus you’re currently using. It’s possible to change Fetch Modii manually, but I find the MCD is more elegant and simple. So it might be a good idea to have several Modii for several occasions, and use the one you think you’ll be needing. For example, use something Inventory-suited like Index when exploring, and when you’re expecting a fighter, switch to something Arsenal-suited like Fingerbands. Just remember to not displace the MCD, or you’ll be running around with the one you’re using forever.

Zen of Sylladex Strife: Fighting At Full Power

This is the Zen that makes you feel like a warrior. If you intend to fight with your Sylladex, you need to remember that it is one of at least two weapons at your disposal. You also have a Strife Specibus. You must use both if you want to truly succeed. Throw something heavy at a Giclops, then pepper him with bullets. When locking blades with a Lich, stun him with a surprise vase, then riposte. I once saw a guy with Hammerkind augment the swing of his sledge with a safe going at breakneck speed, so his strike went at terminal velocity and tore a Basilisk in half. You’re going to have to learn how your Strife Specibus factors into all of this, and probably practice, but by mixing conventional warfare with captchalogue warfare, you become significantly harder to predict, and much more deadly.

[bluejayblueskies]

marionette

Part 5 of Whumptober 2020

Fandom: The Magnus Archives Characters: Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood, Basira Hussain, Annabelle Cane, Georgie Barker, Melanie King Tags: Whump, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Gun Violence, Manipulation, Spiders

Read on Ao3

“For the record, I hate this plan.”

“Yeah, well, if you can think of anything better, I’m all ears.”

Martin waits. When Basira doesn’t respond, he sighs and says, “Yeah. This is it, then. So, are we good? Because I really don’t want to wait any longer.” Something twists, deep in his stomach. “I… I’m afraid we might already be too late.”

Basira’s hand travels, briefly, to the gun strapped to her hip. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re good.”

Martin feels a bit nauseous. “Good.” He steels himself, then turns to face the house that had once been Hilltop Road. “Then let’s go.”

.

Jon thinks he sees an opportunity, when Annabelle Cane leaves the house. “Be back in a flash,” she says with a Cheshire cat smile, and then she’s gone.

The webs are sticky and tightly wound around Jon’s wrists and ankles, pinning him neatly in place against the wall like a mounted butterfly. But he twists, and struggles, and screams, and manages to rip an arm free. Then a leg. And then he’s collapsing onto the floor, his muscles screaming from disuse, his chest heaving in equal parts exhaustion and agony.

It takes him too long to get to his feet and stagger toward the door. That was his mistake, he thinks distantly, as he’s woven back into place in the webs that crisscross the house. He was too slow. He’d only been able to take a single, euphoric step over the threshold, a single breath of tantalizingly fresh air, before a pair of spindly black legs wrapped around him quick as lighting and pulled him back, his scream cut off by the slam of the door. The Spider was quick, and he should have been quicker.

He’s caught, a fly in a web, and it won’t be long before he’s consumed.

.

The door won’t open.

“Banner start, Martin,” Basira whispers. “It’s not like we go in through the front door was ever a good plan to begin with.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the Web—trying to outsmart it is kind of off the table,” Martin hisses, pulling his attention away from the door for a moment.

When he looks back, the door is ajar.

They stare at it for a few seconds. “Great,” Basira says finally. “Because that’s not suspicious as hell. Martin, don’t—”

Martin pushes the door open and steps through.

“Welcome,” Annabelle says, and the plastic smile on her face reminds Martin unsettlingly of a ventriloquist’s doll. “We’ve been expecting you.”

There’s a moment of unsettling silence. Then, quietly, Basira says, “We?”

.

There are spiders in his throat.

There are spiders in his veins.

There are spiders in his eyes.

All of his eyes.

But Jon can still see. He can see segmented legs, and hairy abdomens, and fangs that puncture skin and sclera. He can see the threads that wrap in and around him, knitting themselves in line with his muscles and pulling him taught. He can see the web, knotted around him in a pattern far too intricate to be anything other than the product of years of subtle stiches.

He can see the Spider, and the Spider can see him.

The Spider lays its final thread, and pulls it tight.

.

It’s Jon, but it’s not. Martin tells himself that, as a hundred threads pull and twist and walk Jon’s body across the floor in a series of not-quite-human motions, too angular in their design to be natural. The not is apparent in the way that Martin sobs at the sight, or in the way that Basira instinctively draws her gun, snapping a quick, “What the hell are you playing at?” at Annabelle where she smiles benignly from the corner of the kitchen. It’s apparent in the way that the thing that’s not Jon sits at the table and says, in a voice so horribly familiar yet so gratingly wrong, “Why don’t you sit, Martin? We have much to discuss.” It’s apparent in the way that Martin unthinkingly takes a seat at the table, without willing his body to move.

The Jon is apparent in the desperate, pleading look Martin can see when he looks into Jon’s eyes. And that’s all Martin needs to have hope.

“Fine, then,” Martin says tightly. He won’t look at Annabelle, but he can feel her eyes like weights on the back of his neck. “I’ll listen. But not until you give Jon back.”

Annabelle laughs lightly, and Jon mirrors the motion perfectly. “I’m afraid that’s not my decision to make. But you will listen, Martin Blackwood. Of that, I am certain.”

And Jon begins to speak. And Martin begins to listen.

.

Jon’s screaming, but no one can hear him. He’s crying, but no tears spill down his cheeks. He wants to wrap his arms around Martin, and hold him tight, and press kisses to his forehead and nose and lips, but instead he sits at a table and smiles and tells Martin that everything’s going to be okay. That the Mother of Puppets has a plan, and it’s ultimately to the benefit of the world, so Martin need not worry about the Spider as he does the Eye. That once the Spider is done with Jon, it will give him back.

At this, he wants to laugh, to scream, to cry, because the lie is hot and sticky on his tongue, and it tastes of poison. But instead, he places a hand on Martin’s cheek and says, so sweetly, “I do keep my promises, don’t I, Martin?”

The threads that wrap around Martin’s body guide him into a nod, and Jon wants nothing more than to be able to cut them. But his are thicker, more consuming, and much, much older, so much so that he thinks that, were they removed, he may cease to exist entirely.

“Lovely,” Jon says with a smile. “I trust you know where the door is.”

.

“Fuck this,” Basira says, and pulls the trigger.

.

Moment One:

Annabelle Cane smiles, unharmed. “You forget,” she says, glassy-eyed, calm, “that this place does not answer to you.”

Moment Two:

Blood begins to blossom, scarlet and thick, against a dark coat.

Moment Three:

“Oh,” Jon says, in a voice all his own.

Moment Four:

“Oh,” Annabelle Cane says, in a voice that has perhaps never been her own.

Moment Five:

The strings are cut, and Jon collapses.

.

dark; cold; blind.

“—Christ, what were you thinking, Basira? God, look at him, he—Jon? Jon! Jon, can you hear—?”

dark; cold; blind

“—think we’re losing him. Jon, you have to wake up.”

“Why isn’t he healing? He- he should be healing. Why isn’t he—?”

dark; cold; blind

Silence, but for the sound of quiet, shaking sobs.

Jon tries, desperately, to hold on.

.

Jon wakes up to a splitting pain in his chest, an even more splitting pain in his head, and a cat sitting on his feet.

The groan Jon lets out when he tries to sit up must have been loud enough to hear from the other room, because it’s less than five seconds before the door’s flung open and Martin rushes in, startling the Admiral so badly that he leaps off the bed and runs through the door into the other room.

“You scared the Admiral,” Jon croaks, and god, his throat hurts. What had he been—?

Oh.

Jon remembers the legs, scurrying along the sides of his bones, and is immediately sick, managing to lean over the side of the bed before regurgitating the meagre contents of his stomach. In less than a second, there’s a warm hand on his back and a voice saying, “Jon! Are- are you okay? God, no, of course not, you were shot, but I meant- Christ, you know what I meant.”

Jon coughs and immediately regrets it as it sends a fresh wave of pain throughout his abdomen. It’s a moment before he has enough breath to say, shakily, “Oh, god. The- the house, Annabelle, I- what happened?”

Martin helps Jon lean back in bed, and he continues to rub soothing circles into Jon’s shoulder as he says, “I don’t know about Hilltop Road, or- or Annabelle. We- um, Basira, she- I don’t know how much you remember, but she, uh, shot you, and that seemed to break through whatever the Web was doing to you. But only because, um. You died for a bit? Which I, hah, didn’t think could happen anymore, but then you stopped breathing, and I- I just kept seeing you lying in that hospital bed.”

Jon reaches, despite the pain, and lays a careful hand on Martin’s cheek. It’s wet with tears. “Oh, Martin. I’m sorry.”

Martin smiles and reaches up to cup Jon’s hand with his own. “It- it’s fine. You’re back. I suppose it- it was like back then, in a way.”

Quietly, Jon says, “They Eye didn’t want to let me go.”

“Yeah, well, for once I agree with it on something.”

Jon smiles softly. “You know there’s really no it to agree with, Martin. The Eye is—”

“Yes, yes, it’s unfathomable, closer to a thought than a person or an object, like a color comprised of fear, I know. But it’s also staring at us right now from the sky, so I think I’m entitled to refer to it as an it.”

“I… I suppose.”

“Back from the dead again, then?” Georgie says, coming in through the door and leaning against the wall. Melanie and Basira are close behind; Melanie has the Admiral cradled in her arms, and her fingers are slowly carding through his fur.

Jon gives her a weak, tentative smile. “It appears so.”

Melanie sighs. “Well, that’s one ‘will-this-fix-the-world?’ option taken off the list, I guess. What’s that, number 20 out of, uh, infinity?”

“We’ll get there,” Basira says curtly. “For now, we should regroup—figure out our next move. We’re not safe here, but it’s better than where we were before, so we have some time, but not much.”

Jon shifts, and he can’t quite suppress a wince. “Enough time for a nap?” he says with a wry smile. “I still feel a bit like I’ve been- well, like I’ve been shot.”

“Technically, I saved your life,” Basira says, but she pushes off the wall and heads toward the door. “Like I said, we don’t have much time. Just… just come out when you’re ready.”

Georgie and Melanie follow her out, and then it’s just Jon and Martin again. They’d shifted after Georgie had come in to slot their hands together, fingers interlocking, and now, Martin rubs small circles with his thumb on the back of Jon’s hand.

“Do you think it’s still possible?” Martin asks quietly, staring at the door like it’ll somehow give him all the answers. “To fix the world? The Web, Annabelle, Hilltop Road… that had been our biggest lead, after the Panopticon, and it almost got you killed.”

Jon squeezes Martin’s hand gently. “I don’t know.” It’s true, and it feels good to have genuine ignorance. “But what else is there to hope for?”

“Yeah.” Martin lifts Jon’s hand, presses a soft kiss to the back of it. “Yeah.”

In the corner, a spider scuttles through a crack in the wall, disappearing from sight.

[icetigris]

If the Pixel 4 has dual SIM (with 2 physical slots), that will be my next phone. If it doesn’t, I’ll probably get a Pixel 3, since it should drop in price after the new one launches. In either case, I’m buying my next phone direct from the manufacturer because I refuse to put up with ISP shitware and lockdowns. My Galaxy S6 has served me well for almost 5 years, but it’s starting to get kinda long in the tooth and I refuse to pay Verizon for the privilege of putting a foreign SIM card in a phone I ostensibly already fucking own.

[dailytechnologynews]

6 Years Later - Reviewing My Build's Successes and Failures At 30,000 Hours of Uptime

So here it is, folks. The 4 grand, big brand, first hand grandstand on an often-neglected topic – what to expect of your machine after years of hard use. Listed below is the encased case I'll be studying for this piece. Components that look like this are in the machine currently. Components that look like this were replaced with upgrades. Components that look like this failed in service.

Type Item Price CPU Intel - Core i5-4670K 3.4 GHz Quad-Core Processor $230 CPU Cooler Noctua - NH-D14 64.95 CFM CPU Cooler $74.95 @ Amazon Motherboard Asus - Z87-Pro ATX LGA1150 Motherboard ~$180 Memory Mushkin - Redline 8 GB (2 x 4 GB) DDR3-1866 Memory ~$100? Upgraded Memory El Cheapo Nemix 32 GB (4 x 8 GB) DDR3-1600 Memory $150.00 Storage Samsung - 840 Series 120 GB 2.5" Solid State Drive ~$120? Storage Seagate - Barracuda 1 TB 3.5" 7200RPM Internal Hard Drive $58.49 @ OutletPC Replacement Storage Western Digital - BLACK SERIES 2 TB 3.5" 7200RPM Internal Hard Drive $119.16 @ OutletPC Video Card Asus - GeForce GTX 780 3 GB DirectCU II Video Card $650 Upgraded Video Card EVGA GeForce GTX 1080 FTW GAMING ACX 3.0 ~$650 Replacement Video Card EVGA GeForce RTX 2070 XC ULTRA GAMING $0 Case Fractal Design - Define R4 (Black Pearl) ATX Mid Tower Case ~$100 Power Supply Fractal Design - Newton R3 600 W 80+ Platinum Certified Semi-Modular ATX Power Supply ~$100 Optical Drive Asus - DRW-24F1ST DVD/CD Writer $21.39 @ OutletPC Operating System Microsoft - Windows 8 OEM 64-bit ~$100 Operating System Microsoft - Windows 10 64-bit $0 Case Fan Fractal Design - FD-FAN-SSR2-140 66 CFM 140mm Fan $13.89 @ SuperBiiz Monitor Asus - VG248QE 24.0" 1920x1080 144 Hz Monitor $246.00 @ Amazon Monitor Asus - VG248QE 24.0" 1920x1080 144 Hz Monitor $246.00 @ Amazon Upgraded Monitor LG - 34UM95 34.0" 3440x1440 60 Hz Monitor $750.00 Total ~$4,000 Generated by PCPartPicker

As you can tell I had two failures, both of them pretty major. I'll cover them a little farther down.

Starting off, these are the goals I had in mind when building this machine: First and foremost, I wanted the best performance in flight simulators and CAD/CAM software that I could justify spending for. I wanted perfect snappiness in Windows, MS Office, and web browsers. Second, I wanted longevity. Third, silence. I'd say this build achieved all of those things... but I have a few warnings for people looking to build a rig with a similar mindset.

I had to make multiple upgrades to the machine for it to keep up with the expanding RAM, VRAM, and storage requirements as sims like DCS got extra content and released updates with power-hungry graphics improvements. Also I may have purchased a much larger monitor and a VR headset... sorry 780.

If you have to skimp on things, don't skimp on the CPU, motherboard, or PSU. Although I have had the urge to get an M.2 SSD and upgrade my CPU for some time now (although really it's still keeping up perfectly fine), the fact that my current motherboard and RAM will also need to be replaced makes that unjustifiable. At this moment, for me to upgrade to a i7-8700k and an M.2 without losing RAM would cost about $1,200. Totally out of the ballpark.

Expect to have failures and do maintenance. I was lucky and had no DOA parts in the build, and the thing ran absolutely flawlessly for years. However about 5 years into the life of the machine, the 1TB storage drive suffered a soft failure. I noticed obvious performance issues, and with drive health monitoring software open I watched it slowly die as I attempted to transfer all the files I wanted elsewhere. I got everything important, but shit. You know the saying that while SSDs have a built-in service life, HDDs either fail within the first couple years or last until obsolescence? Ahhh... not in my experience. Anything I build from now on will probably be all-SSD.

(3 cont'd) As for the 1080 that died, that was much more dramatic. I'm flying along in the sublime DCS F/A-18C recreating Mongo's MiG-21 shootdown in the Gulf War when all at once the computer instantly powers off with a pop and the screen goes black. I'm thinking "...power outage?" until I smell it – something let the smoke out. After a postmortem I decide the smell had to have come from the GPU. So I throw in the old 780 and it boots up – but no video output. Shit. Video output from the IGPU works fine though? Huh. So I try a different PCIe slot and what do you know... I'm pretty sure my 1080 fried the only 16x slot on the board. Not too big a deal to run on 8x but now I feel the machine is in its twilight years with one of the newest components in the rig failing so spectacularly and running with a damaged motherboard. Being realistic though, I won't be at all surprised if this thing will keep going another 6 years or more with an SSD change.

Warranties matter as much or more than quality. At first, I went all-in on the highest quality parts I could get without paying any attention to the warranty service. To this day I still consider the Asus 780 DCUII an incredibly well-built card. When I retrieved it to replace the blown-up 1080 I was impressed all over again with how sturdy it felt and just the quality of work Asus put into it. But all cards can fail, and if the same thing that happened to my EVGA 1080 had happened to my Asus 780... well, I'd have been shit out of both luck and $650. As it stands I'm actually getting an upgrade out of this catastrophe (albeit still being left with a dead PCIe slot).

Don't bother with watercooling, not even AIOs except in very specific use cases. It's not anywhere close to being worth the headache for the vast majority of people going that route. The amount of additional maintenance and attention required to keep a watercooled rig going strong for so many years is way more than you're going to want to do. I know you're pretty into the hardware side of your computer now, but just trust me. You're going to be a substantially different person in 5 years, most likely one that wants a machine that just works without any doubts about water leaks, water line contamination, pumps dying, etc.

Shit's expensive, yo. Yes I know I didn't do my wallet any favors here, but just be aware that if you want to maintain a top-shelf rig for many years to come, get ready to shell out many thousands too. It's not a one-and-done purchase, even if you can handle falling behind the state of the art. I didn't even list all of my peripherals here. In addition to all of this I've also got a UPS, a Das Keyboard 4, monitor stand for the 34UM95 and an Ergotron arm mount for the VG248QEs, flight sim peripherals, headphones, DAC, and more. Plus power bills I've honestly got no clue how much this thing has cost me in total. At least $5.5k. Was it worth it? Oh fuck yeah it was worth it. But I'm not exactly on a tight budget here... don't stretch yourself for something that is ultimately probably going to serve as much as a distraction from responsibility as it will a tool for bettering your life. It undeniably is the latter... but you don't need to spend nearly as much if you just want a productivity machine.

What would I have done differently with the initial build? Probably nothing. I probably should have gone all-SSD a year or two ago but that's fine. In the near future I'll just replace the OS drive and add a storage SSD. My machine has been an absolute pleasure to own, a dream come true after years of the shitty family computer (even by 90s standards) and countless craptops. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.

[clatterbane]

Not to happy earlier, because I think I managed to do a dummy and fuck up some SD card connector pins on the old S5 I'd been using.

That was while trying to wrestle the SIM card out of the slot right under it. (One problem the current tray setup does avoid, even if the main point was to keep customers away from the battery*...)

The SIM was in an adapter which was an absurdly tight fit, and I guess I wasn't as careful as I thought trying to get it out of there. Because the phone couldn't access the SD card after I fired it back up. Tried reseating it, which didn't work, and then I saw there are at least a couple of bent pins in the slot.

Replacing the whole pin assembly doesn't look like too bad a job, but spoons. I may just try to get it to the repair shop I used for screen replacements (yes, multiple) before. And hopefully the estimate would be as reasonable. *crossing fingers*

That's a good old workhorse phone, and I would like to have it fully working. (Including being able to access app data transferred onto the card.) Hopefully I won't need it for backup again, like after the previous one died and I totally failed to get it shipped off for repairs/replacement 🙄 But, the option would be nice.

(* Also, good thing Samsung hadn't yet decided to keep people out of the battery compartment with that model. Because when I opened it up to do some SIMnapping, I noticed that battery was starting to bulge a little. All I can say is, good thing I did spot that fairly early and also had a non-bulgy spare sitting around.)

[dltbzrkcr]

             “ ...Well fuck. “ He groaned as he realized the phone was cracked in three different parts, all strung across the room. One of Princess’ maids came rushing in to clean it up but he floated over to grab the pieces and grumble at himself. “ Good fuckin’ going Butch... good fuckin’ job flipping out... “ He fidgeted with the shattered pieces for a moment before taking off and heading to walmart. Good thing it was just at stupid phone from there, with straight talk, because that made it just as easy to swap his number to a new phone and set it up again. 

              At least, that was the plan... But finding what phone he could get within the limited cash range he had at this very moment was hard. He’d had about 30$... the best phone he could get was one that looked about five years old, and shitty as hell. He did his best to bottle up a drawn out, exhausted sight as he purchased the damn thing and went to sit on a bench in order to swap the sim cards to get reception. Only problem, his hands were too damn big. “ C’mon you fuckin’... just come out of the broken slot... “ One of his fingers snagged on a jagged edge, cutting it open for blood to start seeping out. “ Fuckin... fuck ya’ phone. Fuck ya’. “ He continued to grumble and began to suck on the finger to stop the bleeding momentarily. 

               It seemed one of the employees noticed his struggle and came over to help him remove the sim card, and swap it over to the new phone. They’d even whipped out a band-aid for him to wrap his finger in. Well, that was nice of them. Didn’t change his grumpy as fuck mood, but whatever. With his new phone at least set up with the Sim card in it, he began to start it up. That came with rolling through the set up screen of course... His mind struggled with comprehending half of the words, and those that he could were playing around on the screen like damn musical chairs in place of each letter. 

              Around three hours later of sitting on this bench, Butch finally got through the start up and was getting his phone to realize it had a signal to it. Before long, old notifications were coming in--- the phone freezing up due to its cheap quality with the rush of pictures and messages that were logged from previous conversations. Taking that as an incentive to chill out with it right now, Butch pocketed the phone and wandered around Walmart to buy a few snacks for himself (rather, steal some) before heading back to Princess’ place. 

              It’s not until he’s sitting cushy back at her mansion that he’s opening the laggy piece of shit up again (making sure to plug it in as the battery was near-dead from the updating). A new message from Blossom, one that he hadn’t read yet... It could wait, there was a message from Brick first. His leader came first and foremost in any situation. The spam of messages took him for a mild loop, reading each one over-and-over again before he stubbornly replied.

           [ text to brick ] u txt bmr tht he was n chrg. im gn fk him up.             [ text to brick ] ... so ur rly cmn bck?            [ text to brick ] r u gna answer?

             After a solid few minutes of not getting a response, Butch gave up and decided to move on from this current subject. 

             Looking at Blossom’s message after this, he’s taken back by what her final response was. In fact, it almost felt as if his... heart? Had dropped. That... she didn’t really send him that, right? He swallows a lump in his throat and begins to type out a response. Only everytime he tries to, he deletes it.                [[[ [text] We should take a break. ]]] 

              He definitely was not reading what Blossom said wrong. It almost has him ready to throw the phone again. But, then he’d be without money--- no wait.. Brick said there was money under his mattress.. AUGH! Frustratedly, he pockets his phone and tugs on his hair before jumping up off the fancy sofa and marching himself back to the front door of Princess’ home. Within milliseconds of leaving the building, Butch takes off to their ‘usual’ place. He drops loudly on the second floor of the motel and swipes a card through their usual room to unlock it. Finally, he moves to sit on their bed in order to stare at his phone screen for awhile longer... At some point his fingers moved without him really noticing--- he had began to dissociate from the real world, it would seem. 

                                     [ text to big bow ] cm 2 usl spt. wnt 2 tlk.