#they did it inside an old reservoir

[dase-draws]

 took my mum to an underground opera a bit ago and this one song went hard af been thinking about it for weeks and had to draw Her

You should probably click on it please thank the quality has been hardcore smooshed

[glowcircuit]

I built a miniature Va11 Hall-A Bar inside of my PC!!

Va11 Hall-A PC Parts & Build list

PC:

CPU : Intel I9 14900k

GPU: Intel Arc A770 16gb

Ram: Corsair Dominator 64gb 5600

Mobo: Maxsun Terminator Z790 D5 wifi

Hard drives M.2: Samsung 990 pro 2tb, Samsung 970 evo plus 1tb, CT 1tb,                                 Adata 500gb

PSU: ROG Thor 850 P2

Cables: Cablemod.com custom shortened and sleeved

Water loop distro : EKWB FLT 120 reservoir + D5 pump

Water loop cpu block: ThermalTake Pacific Mx2 Ultra 

Water loop radiators: Alphacool HPE 20 x 2

Water loop hardware: 15 Alphacool, 3 EKWB, 2 Alphacool soft, 2 granzon    

Water loop tubes: EKWB Acrylic tube 14mm, Alphacool 13/10 soft

Air Cooling : ThermalTake Toughfan 120mm x 3  + Controller

Air Cooling : Noctua 40mm pwm server fan x 2 (non visible)

Additional RGB Control : Coolermaster controller

Case:

Lian Li PC V600, left side mount, released in 2006, I acquired it in 2015 from PC Recycle in sodo Seattle.

I had to track down a new foot, one had been missing since I acquired the case (ebay)

Mods:These are the case mods I did personally

Cut a hole for the cpu mounts in the Motherboard mount plate as this case was designed for older hardware 

Cut two 120mm blowholes and added aluminum covers (Dremel)

Cut Front and rear windows into side panels (Dremel Max)

Moved PSU from vertical placement in the lower right side of the case in front of the CPU  to horizontal placement in the top left in old drive bays. 

The PSU bracket had to be cut to show the OLED on the side. 

Modded the side panel rail slide to accommodate the PSU, I used the original aluminum stand the psu was on, cut in half and epoxied with JB weld. 

Changed and moved Power/ Reset switch to the back of the case, shortened and spliced the cable

I cut and bent my own 14mm acrylic tubes (hobby miter, heat gun). 

Cut and made two way mirror for the front panel

Plastic "truss" is both functional and aesthetic. It came from a Gunpla accessory kit and has two cables passing through it and it acts as the GPU support. I could only get red and had to paint it.

Notice that some logos are missing/ covered, I dislike having a case as an advertisement. The Rog eye on the PSU is mostly covered but iykyk, most of the word "Intel" on the ARC GPU, Two of the Thermaltake logos on the fan edges, the Paint on the Thermaltake Mx2 Ultra and Maxsun terminator heatsink. (I will eventually cover the visible SSD with a heat sink, cover the fan info on the rear and work a cover for the word "dominator"). the one logo explicitly unchanged is the LianLi case badge, if I think of a perfect replacement, maybe then.

Mod I did not do:

I did NOT shorten and sleeve my own cables, I used cable-mod.com. I am not confident in my ability to do this.

BAR:

"Bar Tiny" Re-ment sets from Japan, 17 sets involved. 

 I customized the color of the bar and chairs and shortened one table for the mezzanine. The whole bar, minus barback- is on a removable 7 inch piece of black acrylic for cleaning.

Jill Stingray Nendoroid

Jils Cat, it sleeps on the GPU

Jill Stool: Jill is glued to a cute doll stool to see over the bar

Jill Accessories non-Nendoroid: cellphone, purse, coat (ebay)

Dorothy Haze Nendoroid

will be added on release.

Bar Back:I made this myself

Black acrylic sheet, and frosted acrylic rods.

Doll Light power kit: 8 Led lights, 4 incandescent lights

USB Doll light power strip

Other Bar Accessories:

Overhead Hanging farmhouse light

trash, mop, broom, pan, mop bucket, 

2 blue fuzzy chairs 

Miniature plants

Miniature Microphone

Mini bottle Dom Perignon, an xmas gift from my friend nemo, it's

 on the top shelf 

Problems and changes:

1. ARGB, pretty pretty pain in the ass. 4 pieces of software........

2. The water loop was changed extensively as hardware came in and space limitations were discovered. The biggest change is that I originally planned to have one radiator on the front of the case, the tubes running over Jills head and to light the tubes as lighting for the bar, to do this the fan would have been in the case proper pushing the whole bar to far into the mobo, it didn't work, so the loop was moved to the top of the case and caused me to have one complex bent tube 

 Second, I had planned the loop to use one sideport on the distro, but space limitation moved both ports to the top causing the complex fittings setup in that corner.   

3. The MOBO, sigh. This has been clearly the most challenging choice I made in this build, I really wanted it to work perfectly too, but I rolled those dice because: Aesthetic+function, the board I wanted (https://en.colorful.cn/en/home/product?mid=84&id=400d19bc-5655-49e1-b391-df00b60935ef) was to great a risk for the cost. This was a silver medal. 

I generally dislike the design options I had in the Z790 series of the big board makers (I  HATE big logos), especially the full ATX, there was one M that interested me, I should have picked it . This board has potential, but the BIOS is underdeveloped and compatibility has been problematic, I had to do a tricky outdated style BIOS update right from the box, and have had to reset the cmos a couple times. It skips BIOS on general boot and though stable, it will have to be addressed eventually, it doesn't have a proper sleep because of some issue between uefi & legacy. It may end up replaced, which will require a full build teardown.

the Turbo fan built into the board doesn't seem to function

Alos, the two argb connections on the mobo dont work, or I can't get them to recognize anything, necessitating the Coolermaster controller for the PSU and Distro. it is shoved behind the distro along with a Noctua 40mm

[i-eat-worlds]

Starcross Chapter 2

Unboxing time!

Content: aftermath of abuse, descriptions of injuries, medical whump, past non-con body mod, broken bones, brief mentions of fictional politics, brief dehumanization, non-sexual nudity, brief mentions of urinary catheters

Free Space, AFS Starcross, 4/5/4763 Ziar peered down into the species containment unit, eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the person confined inside. She turned to her captain. “I’m going to need you to leave, Veya.”

The person was entirely nude, and their body was covered with a seemingly endless number of big, dark bruises. Several tubes protruded from their body, attached to reservoirs of nourishment, fluids, and oxygen, as well as another to remove waste, all responsible for keeping them alive in the tiny chamber. It would be an involved process to get them detached and woken up, and neither of them needed an audience for that.

Behind her, Veya shifted. Ziar could tell she was uncomfortable with the idea of a stranger aboard the ship, but she’d live. The infirmary was her domain, and no one else’s. “I’ll keep you updated. Promise. If there’s some sort of fun new novel parasite, I’ll let it eat me first.”

“Alright.” She chuckled a little bit, turning on her heel to leave. Ziar heard her stop to grab her weapon before thumbing up the stairs to the third level.

“Let’s get you out of there.” Her eyes flicked back over to the display panel, checking their vital signs once more. It gave their species as Human. They were one of the rarer species of the galaxy, and Ziar wasn’t overly familiar with them. However, their vitals seemed to be within normal limits, and the SCU wasn’t screaming loudly at her, so they were probably not awful.

It had been nearly a decade since she had last dealt with stasis units, but waking someone was a hell of a lot easier to manage than induction, so she wasn’t going to complain. She disconnected the feeding and hydration lines, though she left the port connecting device alone. The catheter also stayed in place, though she unattached the collection bag. It was mostly full, and Ziar was glad that they’d gotten to them when they did.

She looked at the panel again, and was surprised to find that Yera had splurged and bought an automatic transfer. All it took was pressing a few buttons to have the levitators float the person from the unit up to a bed. She still had to lug the ventilator around, but that was much preferred to having to carry a person. If Ziar was being honest, though, the person didn’t look like they weighed all that much.

The infirmary’s harsh lighting left nothing hidden as she methodically worked her way down from their head. Their hair had been completely shaved, only a thin layer of fuzz left behind. A dark, bruised ring rimmed their left eye, but the orbit seemed intact. On the right side of their neck, several Yeran letters and numerals were etched into their skin. KM-4682, if she was reading them correctly. Her stomach dropped as she moved on to examining the front side of their chest and abdomen. Their ribs crunched beneath her hands as he felt them, but their chest rose and fell as a single unit and their lungs sounded clear. Shallow cuts and old scars flecked their chest, along with several small bruises. Their left ankle was swollen concerningly, and Ziar was worried it was broken. Blood flow was good, but it should’ve been immobilized before the put into stasis.

On their frontside, that was the most severe injury she could find, but obvious evidence of mistreatment was overwhelming. The skin around their wrists was chapped from over-tight restraints, same as their ankles. And, combined with the electrowhip burns on their thighs, it reminded her of Adaxia in all the wrong ways.

She took a deep breath in, rolling her shoulders back before queueing the bed to roll them onto their side. The electrowhip scars were thicker here, criss-crossing over each other like a knot, but they were much more faded than the ones on their thighs.

Closer inspection soon revealed why.

A thin line of metal protruded from the back of their neck, terminating in some sort of cable port. Further down, on their lower back, was the same device, though a little more robust. They were spinal implants.

What the actual fuck?

Yera was screwing around with some poor soul's nerves. Sure prosthetic technology had advanced, but that had to be absolutely angonzing. What purpose was it even supposed to serve? Had they just done it to see if they could?

Then again, she shouldn’t have expected better from Yera. Or anything Gralla in general.

Furthermore, it was obvious that they hadn’t been taken care of properly. The skin around both was red and puffy, though she didn’t see any discharge. Yet. The implants should’ve been covered with another layer of medical grade, antiseptic dermafibran. It wasn’t like it was too early. She could see where the other incisions had healed completely. Leaving them open like that was unbelievably negligent. She forced herself to take another breath. Anger was not the ally she needed right now.

Just as she laid the person back down at, the intercom beeped. “There's a cruiser approaching us. We need to punch it.” Veya’s voice was steel, despite the stress she had to be under. “You’ve got two minutes while we charge to get stuff tied down.”

Great.

She had just gotten the straps across over their abdomen when the ship’s lightspeed engines revved, and Starcross flung itself off into space.

***

Free Space, YSS Victory, 4/5/4763

Anodyn tisked, hissing at the secretary on the other end of the communicator. “What do you mean it went down?”

The secretary tried to respond, but she cut them off. “I don’t care for whatever excuses he told you to give. I want it made very clear to him that if the asset is not returned, he will pay for his mistakes.”

“Yes Ma’am,” They said, discomfort edging its way into their voice despite their attempts to hide it.

She cut the connection without another word, frustration rolling off her in waves. The program was months behind schedule due to technical issues, and now this. While KM-4682’s implants had been a failure, there was still much to learn from its body. She couldn’t afford this, not if she wanted to keep the program up and running.

Her hand slammed into the lightweight metal of her desk, pain radiating up from her knuckles. This was not how her life’s work was going to be remembered, as a failure. She would bring Yera mech technology, and nothing would stop her. Not the imbeciles she was forced to work with, not time, not money, not the incomprehensible distances between the stars. Nothing.

Smiling, she stood up, straightening her uniform jacket. The door to her office wirred as she left, heading towards the bridge. She would hunt down KM-4682 herself.

And she would not fail, no matter the price.

Taglist: @whump-snob @whump-kia @itsoundslikeafury @emmettland @blackberry-bloody

@whumpacabra @cepheusgalaxy @softvampirewhump @my-little-versaille @pigeonwhumps

@whumped-by-glitter @snaillamp @rainydaywhump @platysaurus @whumpy-daydreams

@whiskygoldwings

[dranna]

Dungeon Bat struggling through Harry Potter

-- Philosopher's Stone

1\?

Summary: What was going on inside Severus's mind during the story and what did he do when we didn't see him?

Word Count: 735

Warnings: none

a/n: Let me know what you think, hope you guys like it!

English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes.

art by me :)

Cheery voices filled the hall, 

They came from many children’s call,

Every wizard, ghost and cat,

Were excited for the ceremony ahead. 

They were in the huge Hogwarts castle, 

Which was now decorated with many candles. 

The occasion was a yearly thing, 

Which was accruing in this inn. 

Before the term could begin, 

A magical hat had to decide, 

In which house will the soon-to-be-students reside. 

Four houses were in total, 

In popularity order they are: 

Gryffindor is for the fiery braves and valiance,  

Whose roar is the loudest of all residents. 

Slytherin is the place for the cunning and determined, 

Whose cool demeanour can slide off, 

Even from the emerald green reservoir. 

Ravenclaws are high in the welcoming sky, 

Hopping on the clouds of knowledge and creative intelligence, oh my.

Hufflepuffs are loyal, hard working beings,

And are patient with the creatures of this planet.

Other thing you need to know, 

That all houses were in harmony, 

Except but two. 

They were the Slytherin and Griffindor. 

There was hate, so huge between those two, 

Not even millennias could make it true. 

Huge rivalry was between the pair, 

Which resulted in mutual rebel. 

The remaining silent ones, 

Were existing in the shadow of the others’ dance. 

After this lengthy intro, 

Let us see the man, 

We are all into. 

There he sat with a gloomy air, 

Among the joyful fear.

All he wore was black and tiny white,

You couldn’t see colours in this fella’s fashion style. 

You might imagine him as an old, wrinkly man, 

However he is not more then thirty two,

Every inch of possible skin, 

Remains hidden under heavy things,

Every fabric he has on, 

Are long and itchy ones. 

He is looking through his greasy hair, 

While being seated at the teacher's desk.

While everyone was jolly good, 

He is looking at someone, 

Among the horde.

Harry Potter the Chosen Child, 

Who defeated the Lord of all infernal. 

How I loathe that appearance and face! 

Even the messy hair and glasses on the top, 

Yet, when I look at him, 

All I see are the eyes,

Looking through my tired soul. 

– He remembered a time, 

When those piercing eyes, 

Looked at him in a different manner, 

They were warm and gentle, 

Full of light, 

Instead of the hate and fright. 

How to have the strength, 

To protect that man’s child, 

Who caused so much pain and angst?

Why does he have to look,

So much like Potter.2?

Even that scar on his forehead, 

Reminding me of a time, 

I wish to forget!

– He was pulled out of his moody thought, 

By his professor friend’s voice, 

McGonagall was reading names, 

Of the first years, 

Who were standing in a tiny group,

Between pupils and gurus.

The ceremony was dragging on, 

When all of the sudden, silence filled the room,

Everyone was waiting for the Hat judge, 

To decide, to which house will Harry be budged. 

“ You will be in Griffindor!” 

Cried the Hat 

Followed by the roaring of fiery heads.

Oh how dry, 

That I’m not surprised,

The boy is following his father’s pride,

Maybe it's better he is not in Slytherin, 

In this way, 

I don't have to tolerate, 

His appearance all day.

After all, 

Why should I be responsible of the safety, 

Of this boy?

I’m sure he’ll be fine, 

Bullying others for his delight. 

– The thoughts of Severus Snape was cut in half,

Because he locked eyes with the Chosen One,

I can't do to not help the child, 

When those eyes… 

Those eyes are just like Hers of old time!

– Suddenly the youth’s scar thundered, 

It looked like it hurt, 

However, as quickly as it came, 

It went away the same speedy way,

“Salad, Snape?”

Quirrel interrupted the moment,

And the feast was going on, in a merry atmosphere. 

Of course he has to ask me now, 

And the moment is gone,

I won’t see what caused the sudden throb.

Hours later in the dark, 

Severus was lying in the dark,

What caused the sudden ache in the scar?

It can’t be what I think it is,

Since the Devil has been dead, 

And no one can come back from the death,

Not even Him!

There must be something racional, 

But I can't see what it is.

– Was thinking the crooked nose wizard, 

While preparing for tomorrow’s class.

Thank you for reading!

Tags my beloveds: @giosnape

Links

[mistydeyes]

HI i had such a cute idea— what about gaz with a s/o who wants to see the night sky without light pollution so they could see all the stars/galaxy clearly, so he takes them out to a dark sky site or a rural area (surprise or otherwise) and they stargaze!!! i hope this is specific enough, thanks🫶🫶

a/n ANON u have my heart! this was such a cute idea <3 I love little fluffy Gaz moments :)

a blanket of stars

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: Despite never being able to fully see the stars, you still romanticized the idea. In fact, it was something that endeared Kyle to you when you first met. You would always think your fascination was silly but Kyle makes a plan to let you see the beauty the universe has to offer.

pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x gn!Reader

warnings: none :)

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

Growing up in London didn’t offer you many opportunities to see the shining night's stars. The light pollution was to thank as you often struggled to even see the North Star. If there ever was a freak blackout, the clouded atmosphere was so thick that almost no stars could pierce through. Regardless, you loved the stars and even got a tattoo of Orion’s belt on your arm.

Gaz knew of this fact and loved your amateur interest in stargazing. Miraculously, you both had been able to take a vacation to Brecon Beacons National Park. It was almost as if the stars aligned for you both. The park offered a converted stable to stay in and you enjoyed the privacy and comfort of the home. You laid on Kyle’s chest in a hammock as you stared at the porch’s wooded ceiling. The warm summer air flowed gently around you as you swung slowly. Kyle stroked your hair softly and was humming an old song. You began to drift off into sleep when you felt him tap your shoulder. You perked up and looked at him questioningly. “Hey Love, let’s take a late night hike, yeah?” he said and you couldn’t help but be a little bewildered. “Kyle that’s how people get murdered!” you exclaimed and he laughed in response. “Babe you think anyone would want to murder us when I’m a STRONG BRITISH SERGEANT,” he stated and made sure to emphasize the last part to any would-be-murders. You rolled your eyes at his antics but decided he wasn't going to be satisfied. You slowly got off the hammock and went inside to grab your hiking gear as Kyle began to lace up his boots.

Kyle effortlessly navigated you through the tall grass and dense trees as you walked in the moonlight. He said his training was to thank for his superior navigation skills. You were glad that it had built him to be strong as he carried the backpack without any complaints. Eventually, you reached a large lake. "Crai Reservoir," he said breathlessly and took off the pack to pull out a blanket. You helped him find a suitable spot as you smoothed out the warm fabric. He sat on the blanket and allowed you to sit in between his legs. "Look up, Love," he whispered and your eyes rose to the night's sky. You gasped as you saw some of the most brilliant constellations twinkling against the blanket of night. You admired how the glittering dots perfectly contrasted with the violet, pink, and dark blue colors that slowly moved as the Earth rotated. You could feel Kyle's eyes on you as your gaze moved erratically, taking in everything you were seeing. "That's 'The Plough'" he said and your gaze followed where he was pointing. You noticed the seven stars that formed Ursa Major in the night's sky. You traced it with your finger as Kyle continued to name off various other constellations. "When did you have time to learn all of this, Love?" you asked as you stared up at him. You could see his dark eyes shimmer with the sparkle of the stars. "You'd be surprised how many books you can read while deployed," he said and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. The rest of the night, you both named the various stars and planets that laid overhead. This was one of your favorite moments and Kyle would never forget how you were the brightest star that night.

[musingsofadepressedgay]

It is absolutely fucking wild how little accountability church leaders need to have

A while back I was a girls camp

(Intermission for those of you who have never experienced a girl's camp)

Picture this, every young women between 12 - 17 is taken up into the mountains with nothing but clothes toiletries ✨️feminine products✨️ (side note why are we so afraid to call them fucking pads or tampons but whatever it doesn't matter rn) a journal pen and scriptures

Phones were not allowed and even if someone snuck one in most of the time we were out of cellphone range because it is time to 'disconnect with the world to connect with god' and at the end of the week everyone is peer pressured into telling about how they didn't want to go but thier mom made them and now that they went they are so happy and feel so close to God because spending a week doing nothing but team building activities all with metaphors about how it is our devine right to be a stay at home mom and we should be honored to submit to our husbands cause Jesus loves us and God knows what's best, while operating on 5 hours of sleep tops, is so eye opening and all that grand stuff

Sometimes there would be showers, sometimes there would be flushable toilets, sometimes some jackass would hide a life sized cardboard cut out of Justin Bieber inside of the Porta potties

Anyway now that we have established the vibes

I was at girls camp, around 14 or 15 years old, and we were going canoeing, because see girls camp is just like scout camp! They go white water rafting but we get to canoe in a reservoir

Now you could have 3 people in a canoe so me and 2 friends went off to go get sunburnt and paddle around for a bit before heading back into a cramped car to listen to the girls gossip about whoever the guy of the week was, because that's what we were expected to do

One crucial design flaw in said canoes is that they aren't actually buoyant enough to float if they get flipped upside-down, they just slowly sink as the air trapped underneath escapes when you attempt to flip them back over

I know that because we tried to take a sharp turn and capsized

Now after we figured out that not only had we flipped the canoe but now we were at a chance of being the only people to lose a whole fucking canoe to the bottom of the reservoir we begin to panic and tread water while holding onto the canoe and calling for help

Eventually some very nice young adults who were out paddle boarding took pity on us and offered to help flip the canoe so it wouldn't sink

Seeing as the canoe had already sunk enough that flipping it would just make it right side up while still underneath the water they had me sit on the back of their paddleboard and hold the canoe to tug it back to shore while my friends swam along side it to help keep it afloat

There are 3 important factors to this situation that are crucial to note

The first is that it is early spring in the mountains, the reservoir was filled with water from melted snow and some of it was still frozen over in shallower areas, on top of that ot was a chilly, and windy, day that felt decent when the sun was out but when you are in the cold water, it in fact did not feel decent

The second thing to note is that at the time I was incredibly short and built like a stick, not much muscle, not much body fat, just a small prepubecent teen (I know I was 14 or 15 however I was a 'late bloomer')

The third thing to note is that the kind paddle boarders who helped us were men in thier 20s or something, idk I wasn't really paying attention to how old they looked, but they were conventionally attractive

And so it was when we finally hauled the boat to shore and got it flipped right side up that we were told by our camp leader that we were not allowed to canoe back across the entire reservoir that we had paddled out to, but we were expected to swim back

To teach us a lesson about flipping a canoe to get the attention of the conventionally attractive young men

(It is worth noting that they were not even paddle boarding near where we accidentally took too sharp of a turn and we had been treading water and holding onto the boat for a good 8 or so minutes before they showed up)

But clearly we had done it all for the attention from boys because we were spending a week in the woods with no boys and so we flipped the boat for an excuse to talk to them

(Secondary note: I am very gay, I did not even understand what they were accusing us of until someone spelled it out for me because the possibility someone might flip a boat for a chance to talk to guys did not ever cross my mind)

And so it was that we went back into the water to swim the whole way back, now we were not just ignored, at one point some other girls took pity on us and told us we could hold onto thier boat as we swam to make it easier for us, and they were towing our boat (that we weren't allowed to paddle back ourselves) so they didn't mind a little extra weight of us holding on while we swam

We got to do that for all of 5 minutes before our leader yelled at them for showing us sympathy and told us that we needed to swim the whole way back on our own

Everyone had finished canoeing and was getting ready for the group picture by the time we got back, we had been swimming as fast as we could the whole time but we had to go back the entire distance that we had canoed out to

When the other girls helped me out of the water I looked like I was badly sunburnt because of how red I was, but it was just my whole body turning red from how cold the water was

I remember vividly that I was crying when the group photo was taken because my feet were burning with every step I took because they had been in the snow melt for so long that when I stepped onto the sand it felt like hot coals

(Yet another side note, having walked on hot coals bare foot before this was worse, the coals was over with fast and my nerves barely had time to react but with this I was so cold that I felt like going into the air I was burning except when the wind blew I was shivering so hard it felt like I was spasming)

We made it back to camp and shockingly none of us felt any better after changing into dry clothes, maybe being in cold water for 20 minutes isn't just something that goes away by getting out of the church approved swim suits

We were told by the church leader that we were allowed to take a shower to wash off the reservoir water and help us warm up, I had to turn the water to cold just to stop myself from feeling like I was being boiled alive

I got home and went straight to my mom to tell her of the injustice I faced, because whenever I told any other adults at camp they just laughed about how cute we must have thought the boys were

I finished telling her and her response was to tell me she already knew because the camp leader had texted her about it

However it was okay because she gave us her one shower she was allowed for the week (the campsite we were at was working on conserving water so the leaders were allowed one shower each and the girls were told they could just deal with not showering for five days) and that because the camp leader was really looking forward to her shower but she gave it up for us, it was all worked out in the long run and there was no fault or blame

I now have experienced things that hurt worse, but at that age the burning feeling around my entire feet as they sunk into the sand was one of the worst physical sensations I had ever felt I can still feel it if I think back because it was such a strong memory of the way my feet stung and my teeth shivered and I cried in front of all of my peers even as I tried my hardest to stop so that I didn't look like a cry baby infront of them

But she didn't get to have her shower

So it alllll evened out

Nobody remembers it besides me and my friends

I don't think we ever got an apology that wasn't followed by a 'but she was doing what she thought was best' or 'but she made it right by letting you have her one shower for the week'

Because it doesn't matter

Whatever the church leaders decide is right is what is right

It doesn't matter who gets hurt along the way

Let the lords will be done

And whoever speaks the will of God can't ever be wrong, and so any harm they do must be right

[dluoser]

ooo ooo duo do 21

❤️ mag

sometimes, being a complete nerd comes in handy.

or

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

“Yeah, me and my buddy were kayaking down in lower Big Tujunga creek and need some help getting out of the canyon.”

“Hey, uh, did you know that kayaks have been around for like, four thousand years?”

Eddie and Buck are both carefully rappelling down the wall of the canyon, trying to get to the two young men sitting far below them, neon boats and paddles dragged to shore and placed in the most visible spot they could find.

“I did not know that. I thought plastic wasn’t big till after the world wars.” That had been quite the call last week, a fire at the bottling plant in the fashion district. The building was unoccupied, but anytime plastic is burning is cause for concern, thick black clouds billowing over the I-10. Buck and Eddie had gone to the roof to vent the smoke, carefully cutting openings to let it out while Buck rattled off facts about the history of Coca-Cola (who owned the plant, apparently) and the invention of plastic (originally Bakelite, which was patented in 1907) before almost skipping to a hose once they were done to help with watering the fire.

Buck adjusts the ropes in his hands with a laugh. “They were made out of trees, Eds.”

“Ahh. That makes more sense.” They both continue down the canyon wall, Buck puttering on about using pelts as waterproofing and how the oldest preserved kayak is over 400 years old and did you know the blades on modern kayak paddles have notches in them so the water doesn’t run down to your hands?

“I think Eddie’s had enough fun facts today, Buckaroo.” Comes Hen as a crackle over the radio.

“I don’t mind them at all. How else am I supposed to answer my most pressing questions if I can’t consult Buckapedia?” Eddie chuckles, pulling a few feet of slack through his belay before updating topside. “Touchdown, Cap.”

The kayakers are mostly fine, save for a nasty broken wrist. It’s a closed break, thankfully, so all they need to do is put a vacuum splint on his arm and harness them both up.

Of course, it’s never that easy.

The ground starts shaking beneath their feet as they work the first kayaker into a harness, and Eddie’s first thought is about LAUSD refitting all their schools with earthquake safety measures, he’s in the safest place he can be because of course, the ground is shaking enough to knock him out of balance and all he can think is if his son is safe.

“Let’s get a move on down there, Buckley, Diaz, we’re going to have places to be.”

“Roger that, Cap.” Buck is quick to respond, calm and confident. The second kayaker gets harnessed much faster than the first, and then both Eddie and his partner are tugging their lines to signal they’re ready to be pulled up.

“I hate earthquakes.” Broken Wrist says from where he’s behind Eddie.

“I’m right there with you,” Buck laughs, tying off his belay so the winch can do all of the work. “Couple years back, we had the microquakes? During the pandemic, remember, Eddie? And the dam blew?” He stops, thinking for a moment.

“Cap, you copy?” They’re slowly ascending, pushing back from the canyon wall every few feet.

“Yes, Buck?”

“The Tujunga Dam.”

Eddie normally doesn’t look down, not if he can help it. But he does now, and the small creek, barely ten feet across in some places, looks like it’s getting wider, deeper. That shouldn’t be the case as they get higher up.

They know what’s coming, before Bobby even responds.

“Dispatch has multiple reports that the dam has blown. We’re speeding up the winch to get you boys up here.”

Buck turns to him, face paled.

“Did, uh, did you know there’s almost two billion gallons of water in the Big Tujunga reservoir?”

Eddie shakes his head. Gone is the calm in Buck’s voice from earlier. Eddie can hear the edge of panic in what he’s saying. Buck almost died in a tsunami, and now he’s dangling three quarters of the way inside a canyon that is going to be flooding very soon.

“Did you know tujunga means old woman’s place?”

Buck stops. The winch is still pulling them up, but his hands where he’s been fussing with the rope are still. His eyes are still trained on Eddie.

“Cat’s have 32 muscles in their ears.”

“Makes sense, with the range of motion they’ve got.” Broken Wrist says.

“Buck, did you know that a group of porcupines is called a prickle?”

That one earns Eddie a small smile.

“Christopher told me that one.”

Eddie can see water rushing behind Buck, can tell by the way he angles his head he can hear it.

“No, look at me. MLB umpires have to wear black underwear in case they rip their pants.”

They’re almost to the top, Eddie can hear the whirring of the winch not too far above their heads.

“Did you know male mice are called bucks?”

And Buck laughs. God, that smile. Eddie put that there, although he’s sure some of it has to do with finally being hauled up onto solid ground. No longer are they dangling over what now looks like a raging river.

Eddie is fumbling to unclip Broken Wrist from his harness, walking him over to Hen and Chim in the ambulance before stepping out of his own harness.

They seperate then, the patients needing transport to the hospital but the ladder truck requested at a 3 alarm fire in WeHo. Buck and Eddie sit in the back of the ladder truck on the way there, with ample room to spread out but they’re still right next to each other.

“Thank you.” Buck says quietly, wringing his hands in his lap.

“Hey, sometimes, being a complete nerd comes in handy.”

[granulesofsand]

CDD Remission: Keeping the Complex Dissociative Structure

🗝️🏷️ RAMCOA programming

Periodic announcement that our plurality is important to us, including our amnesia and innerworld. As we heal, we’ve been shifting from CDD (Complex Dissociative Disorder) to CDS (Complex Dissociative Structure).

We say structure because we don’t find the typical treatment for Complex Dissociative Disorders to be good for us. Others might use Dissociative Identity Stucture (DIS) or a similar label to describe what their presentation looks like in remission — we consider our DID to be in partial remission.

The diagnosis we qualify for best is Dissociative Identity Disorder. We continue to have selves and self-states (which we perceive as plurality), to have unordinary recall of our life history (because not everyone was there, and sometimes we drop self-states we cannot contain), and to have these symptoms without substance use.

We don’t find our multiplicity distressing. We don’t find our memory barriers distressing. But we do experience dysfunction that we would not if we were a singlet.

We consider our plurality cultural, because we consider longstanding online communities to be capable of developing culture (and plural spaces have the markers of distinction that prove that).

We also consider our programming to by sub-cultural. That piece is less solid, and we do still want treatment and change to deprogram — our group of origin also had the markers of distinction from the regional mainstream.

We benefit greatly from therapy; we currently rely on therapy for support and attunement, as the problems we’re dealing with do tend to be ‘too much’ for new relationships (which are mostly the kind we have right now). It fulfills a human need for connection that for deprogramming, and we need to deprogram to be safe.

We also understand CDSs as underlying CDDs, where the disorder is the modifier to indicate need for change. With that thinking, all CDDs have a CDS, but somebody can have a CDS without a CDD. Our bitterness towards our own diagnosis of DID is that we did not choose it. We want it known that we are a dissociative system, we want accommodations to prevent disability, but we dislike that we can only be accounted for by outsiders telling us we exist wrong.

Our CDD is responding to treatment because we have a base of healing. We have achieved a level of deprogramming such that known insiders are brought into safety and connected to resources quickly, facilitating the more arduous journey from old ideologies and behaviors. The programming still active is rooted in those undiscovered insiders, who we actively seek out and add to the network.

We maintain control over integration. We chip away at walls that we did not choose, replacing leeching traumatic dissociation with heartier growth based on agreement and understanding. What was an impenetrable fortress, thick concrete and pointed metal, is disassembled. In its stead, we weave vines and plant bushes. We prune these flora ourselves, and we remain in contact while separate.

This is integration in that we’re aware of each other. This is dissociation in the we strengthen our own barriers. A word for this is inclusion; everyone can participate in internal and external life, and it’s not phobia preventing them from interaction.

We visualize memory as orbs, some glassy and glowing, others putty-like and in motion. These are information, and a collection of them in a certain order builds a self-state. We can recognize what each orb holds, so can elaborate it with experiences we know will yield a particular state. Sometimes we fuse orbs, sometimes we create new ones. Everyone knows how to separate an orb from themselves and duplicate or give away the content.

This is integration in that we share memories. This is dissociation in that we retain the ‘amnesia’ (not remembering what we weren’t there for). The orbs of the surface realm belong to a kind of reservoir in a structure some systems describe as atrial.

We’re doing well with dissociation. We have a number of us who are proficient enough to teach newcomers how to perform these actions. Deprogramming remains our biggest issue, and we’ve been healing exponentially the further we go.

We’ll keep talking about the hard stuff, and we’ll keep celebrating the progress we’ve made. We’re at a stage where we can see our effort realized — it really did get better, and it’ll get better yet.

[dailyunsolvedmysteries-movedd]

The True Story of the Boise Murder House

805 W Linden Street in Boise, Idaho, its covered in a layer of soot, with windows broken and boarded up and trash strewn about the yard, the 2-story, 2,728 square-foot Craftsman-style home looks like an abandoned horror movie set. 

Known commonly as the Boise Murder House, the home is also sometimes referred to by locals as the Chop-Chop House, a glib reference to the gruesome homicide that took place there more than three decades ago. In the early morning hours of June 30th, 1987, 37-year-old Daniel Rodgers and 31-year-old Daron Cox shot and killed 21-year-old Preston Murr in the basement of Rodgers’s home at 805 W Linden Street. The two men then used an axe and knife to dismember his corpse, wrapped the pieces in plastic bags, and drove to the Idaho-Oregon border to dump the body parts in the Brownlee Reservoir. Horrifying as the facts of the crime are, there is one detail more haunting than the rest: Murr almost escaped.

According to court documents, an altercation broke out around midnight between the three men and Murr was shot in the shoulder by one of the two others. Having somehow managed to flee the home, he ran to a nearby house and banged on the door begging for help, but no one answered. The neighbor inside did call the police, however. He reported hearing pounding on his door, as well as someone screaming “let go of me,” followed by an anguished yell. Peeking out his window, he saw someone chasing Murr, eventually catching him and dragging him back into the basement of Rodger’s home, where he was fatally shot in the back of the head.

Though police never responded that night, they were called again the next morning by the same neighbor who asked officials to come investigate blood on his screen door. The blood found throughout the neighborhood—on sidewalks and at least one other neighboring house—further painted a harrowing picture of Murr’s desperate attempt to escape his murderers the night before. While the crime scene has long since been cleaned up, a dark legacy lingers around 805 W Linden Street to this day.

It’s unclear what happened to the house in the immediate years after Rodgers was sent to the Idaho State Correctional Center to serve out a life sentence without parole, but property records available online list a new owner, James Howell, as of 2000. Howell has since rented the house to a number of tenants and, given its proximity to Boise State University, it’s become a popular choice among students seeking off-campus housing. As a result, local lore about the house has a decidedly collegiate flair: One persistent rumor claims that fraternity brothers have reported seeing blood dripping down the walls of the basement for years. While there is no truth to this tale—and 805 W Linden was never an official frat house—many former residents say there is something “off” about the space.

“The basement was creepy and had a weird feel. We would take people down there to scare them. I never saw any ghosts but you could tell something wasn't right,” Joe W., a former BSU student, told a local radio station, 107.9 LITE FM. Another Boise resident, Rachel R., told the station that her family almost bought the house back in 2000, and to this day she still gets anxious when thinking about their tour of the home. “It looked like it had been abandoned and the basement was by far the creepiest part,” she said. But of all the accounts shared with 107.9, the strangest tale, submitted by Dan D., goes well beyond the basement.

According to his story, one night Dan and his friend thought they heard someone trying to break into the house. When they went out to the front porch to check things out, no one was there. After looking around the front yard, Dan turned to face the house and saw a “big black oily looking thing” in the window of a bedroom upstairs. He remembers seeing the shadow-y figure move back from the window and towards the bedroom door before it disappeared. Shortly after, it reappeared outside in a mirror sitting on the porch. Dan watched as the “ball of oily blackness” moved down the large column of the porch, slowly growing in size until it took up the entire reflection of the mirror and moved right through him. “It was the weirdest, most disturbing thing I've ever felt and just typing this makes me feel it again. It's like ice fingers sinking into my shoulders,” he said.

[charlesandmartine]

Saturday 16th November 2024

Mount Isa is a clean little city, neatly laid out in rows. Plain non-aspirational houses everywhere in streets with industrial names such as Carbonate St, Oxide St, Sulphide St. Not the sort of names that would attract you in Escape to the Country. You get the feeling that people view where they live is secondary to their place of work.

After a tiring day, working down the mines, theoretically, we should have taken a day off, but places to go, people to meet, don't you know. This morning was Saturday market, and being Saturday, we thought that most appropriate. The market was back at the Hard Times Mine, and the first person we met pulling up in the carpark was our guide from yesterday, Steve. He had just pulled up in his old saloon pickup. He slammed the door behind him, but we noticed he didn't lock or close the windows. On inspection yesterday, we couldn't help commenting between us that we have seen tidier skips and cleaner dust carts. But we had a laugh with him this morning comparing notes regarding climate change. It turns out he was brought up in Redditch!

There was nothing of particular interest at the market, which was mainly craft items, so we decided to move on and have a picnic at Lake Moondarra; a reservoir covering over 23.7 square kilometers and holding 107 Gigalitres of water plus roughly 50 freshy crocodiles. So quite big as lakes go. I'm led to understand that when these things were important, indigenous people's used the site as a stone axe quarry satisfying a market for such implements across distances as far as 1,000 kms away. Filling it with 107 GL of water might well have put a stop on that. The dam was built for Mount Isa Mines and, at the time, was the largest water scheme in Australia financed by private enterprise and completed in 1958. It was a beautiful place, and we viewed it from the usual lookout point high above the lake. Birds abounded, pelicans, darters, parakeets, swifts, and Tortoise Town lizards. We started a short walk called Wallaby Walk, which, although did have many a calling card left behind from a wallaby, actual wallabies there were none. It's a strange thing, but on this trip, to date, we have seen very few kangaroos or their marsupial counterparts. We shall keep looking.

By way of celebrating our last night in Mount Isa, we walked around the corner to the Barkly Hotel for a Stonehouse beer. A more swanky place would be hard to find even if you relied on your guide dog. The esteemed establishment faces the mine entrance, and clearly, this is a favoured watering hole. Christmas has not been too obvious in its approach to date, a trend quite reversed by the Barkly Hotel, which has made quite a feature of its forthcoming. Just inside the main entrance, you have a choice of either taking a left into the Pokies room (slot machines to any sane English person) or be delighted by the tasteful inflatable Christmas barbie. I think for those who know good taste you can get a general idea of the kind of place this is. Well, we got a couple of Stonehouse schooners and took a bar stool with other riff raff. Well, it was pleasant, and it's the stuff that makes for lasting memories, after all, isn't it?

We shall be moving on tomorrow and leaving Mount Isa behind. We really weren't sure how we would like this place; people had suggested it might be a bit rough, or there would be nothing to see here. We have enjoyed it very much and have seen some amazing things. But tomorrow, we will arrive in Cloncurry, which is not a million miles away from where we were last year.

[flut-flut]

Might as well post the whole little rp we had started LMFAO deadass didn't get too far into it so it's really not long at all RIP

]]] Indicates my writing for Jak's pov, [[[ indicates my partner's writing for Daxter's pov

]]] They had lived in Haven for a year and a half after Dax had helped him out of that prison. Three and a half years if you wanted to count prison. Guess that was three and a half years for Dax. But here they were, uprooted again. Jak sighed through his nose, the salt ocean air a sharp feeling that swam through his body with heavy nostalgia as he watched the last of the setting sun out over the water. The rocky porch he sat on was uneven and rough under his fingers. Did he miss Haven before? When he left through the rift gate the first time? Samos said he hadn't remembered anything. Guess he wouldn't have then. Even if growing up in the quiet and boring Sandover he kind of felt like something was gnawing at him, something was missing. Was this a memory or just a new outlook on his past from better understanding? Didn't matter either way. What he knew for certain was that he didn't miss Haven now, or anyone from there. Spargus already felt more like his childhood home with its beach front, the oceanic smell of salt and fish, the rocks and sand, than Haven ever did. That polluted, disgusting cesspool of shit stood on the same ground as Sandover, but it didn't deserve to. Jak stood, getting tired of his thoughts as he turned and headed through the bronze and wood doorway into their newest living quarters. Daxter should be somewhere inside doing whatever it was he felt he needed to be comfortable here for a small while. They still technically had to earn this place, and the citizens of Spargus were a much tougher crowd than those in Haven could ever dream of being. His kind of place, he thought hesitantly, shutting the door behind him. His stomach growled and he realized that besides the small snack they had been given upon being found, he hadn't eaten much that day.

[[[ Dax paced around inside. The abode was sparsely furnished, the bed carved out of the bedrock. The whole house seemed to be in an adobe style. The finger prints forever dried of the men and women of Spargus that had built it. There was a small kitchen just right of the entrance, the stove was topped with a large flat stone that was always hot to the touch. Magma fed heat was apparently a thing here in Spargus. It truly is the little details that make a get away worth while. On the left was the… generously named bedroom. The area devoid of any furniture save the built in bed and a nook built into the walls. Finally towards the back was an archway that led to the bathroom. The water was pump fed. There was a reservoir in the kitchen that could be filled during storms, and a well in the center of town that water could be brought in by. There was a toilet, and a wet bath shower head. on the floor was a beautifully designed tile mosaic. Dax glanced over to the door his companion had entered and then promptly exited through. A tight knot forming in the small rodents gut. The city's betrayal stung for him, and he hadn't been directly and fundamentally altered. This time. He could only imagine what Jak was feeling right now. The bitter taste left by Ashelin and that jackass of a councilman made him want to spit. Looking around the place he found an old crusty rag and fanned it out. clearing off some of the dust that had collected since the last occupant had err… taken a beach vacation. Only the beach has no water and is hotter than the inside of a Yakow in summer. He sighed and squeezed the rag in his paw, unsure of this new place. This Damas guy, sure had saved them. But now they had to owe this place their lives? what sort of bad deal did that make? On top of all that, that stupid birdseed for brains had up all but abandoned the pair. Sitting pretty on some weird sun baked king's shoulder like some poser. He swallowed his distaste and focused on cleaning up a bit when Jak reentered the hut. He smiled to his friend, a big goofy grin. "Welcome Jak to our seaside getaway. Where do you wanna put the hot tub?" He asked in a joking tone, scurrying over onto the counter closer to his pal. "Look it's rough now, but just wait until we settle in. This is going to be the best bachelor pad. Better than the Naughty Ottsel. Promise." His words felt hollow on his lips but he hoped that maybe they'd come true. He stretched and yawned. "ya know. riding leaper lizards All over the precursor's green planet, sure does wipe a fella out. lets test out that mattress and figure things out tomorrow." He leapt off the counter, bounding towards the bed area, "Last one in's a hip Hog berry!"

]]] Daxter's grand plans for their little abode made Jak chuckle under his breath, hands falling to his hips as he finally took a moment to actually look at the place. He had been too high on his adrenaline rush after the arena test to do so properly when they first arrived. He stepped around, thinking he should put things away, or unpack or something, but then he remembered he didn't have his things with him, hadn't been given the opportunity to grab anything before they arrested him. All his stuff was still in their room upstairs at the Naughty Ottsel. His jet board, his gun. Fuck. The rinky gun he was given from his first arena win was the same style as the first one he had ever held, and he squinted at it as he decided where to set it in the house. However, he then thought better of it and kept it on his person, tucking it behind his head on his back pack held there with the strap of Daxter's seat on his shoulder. His stomach growled again as Dax ran off to the bed, and he spoke up. "Why don't we find something to eat first." There was a market pretty close to their house, though obviously it wasn't open this late. Had this been Haven he would have just stolen something, but while he wasn't scared of Haven's prison system anymore, he was scared of being out in that desert again with no where to go if he was caught breaking the law. He ran his hand through his short hair, the sudden drop in length surprised him every time he toyed with it. "Look, let's just… have a quick fishing trip, I'm starving." He turned so that Dax could actually jump onto his shoulder and was again heading out the door. The beach was twenty or so feet away. A real beach side resort… The moon lit up the beige rocks and made the whole town look blue, the ocean and sky a dark black.

[[[ Daxter took his proper place, using the elf's belt and shirt to hoist himself up onto his perch. "You sure you remember how to fish? If memory serves we don't exactly have a good track record with catching things." He said tapping his claws on the tough metal of the man's shoulder pad. "at least we don't have to worry about poisonous eels." He shuttered. "Hate those buggers. What are ya hungry for, Jak? Hm? Clams? Urchins? Some delicious scallops?" He tried to keep himself from drooling as they stepped out onto the sand. The crisp night air a welcome change from the scorching heat of the day. He bound down from his perch. "Alright, guess we should ah… try to find something to use as a pole, maybe some line. You don't happen to have any dental floss in your back pocket do you?" He asked, crossing his arms. "Alright if you don't have any floss, we could… throw rocks at the fish." He looked down at the water. "You don't suppose there'd be any ah…. Lurker Sharks swimming around in there do you?"

]]] The ocean front right outside their house dropped hard on a small cliff, which personally Jak didn't mind, but for fishing's sake he didn't feel like climbing in and out of the water, so he headed down the shore line, eyes peeled for anything resembling a stick while he was at it. He gave a shrug and a small smile. "We'll do just fine, there's gotta be something in the water." Once Dax hopped down he rolled his shoulder a bit, stretching out his arm and spying some drift wood. He ran over to it, snatched it up and then started looking for a sharp rock, which thankfully didn't take long at all with the cliffs everywhere. "Nah, those are long gone, remember? Sig said that trophy Krew had was a one in a million catch." Not surprising, the fishing technology had a slight increase the centuries they'd missed. He took one of the thinner leather straps holding his gloves on off, and used it to keep the rock tied to the end of the stick. A confident smile and he was almost ready to get swimming. First though he took off anything unnecessary, shoes, gloves, armour. His pants and shirt stayed on, he could dry those later with the stove inside. "Ready, Dax?" He hardly waited for his friend, running and diving into the water with his spear in hand. It was much colder than he expected, shocking him awake with a sharp gasp, but it didn't take long before he felt right at home. The salt water felt fresh against his skin and hair, and while it was too dark to see much, he managed to feel the familiar tingle of green eco darting here and there within the water, chasing after it.

[[[ The outside air rose the hairs on the mammal's back. Watching with thinly veiled awe as his friend made something from nothing he let out a half sigh before stretching and pattering behind towards the beach. "Yeah well I'd sure hate to suddenly get lucky." He shielded his face as Jak dived in. The water soaking his goggles and gloves. He pulled the goggles off his head not wanting to loose it before stepping closer to the lapping sea. He looked back at the pile of discarded armor and effects before taking the plunge. The water was chilly but his fur kept the icy sting at bay. He could feel the current moving across his whiskers and the churning twists of the waves. He dove down, away from where Jak was stabbing to a gathering of shellfish. His mouth watered as he collected them. He could feel something churning the currents behind him. Waiting. Watching. Looking below the surface. Into the dark blue of the open sea he saw nothing. No hungry eyes or snapping jaws just. Clear. Open water. He shrugged and began to surface. Holding his bounty tight to his body with his back legs as he broke free into the night air. He looked over to his friend as he floated on his back. "How's this, a fancy feast for the destructive duo. What did you catch? Hmmm?" He asked teasingly.

]]] Jak's attempts at catching were a little less accurate than he would have liked, he could hear his younger self laughing at his struggle to get anything, but after a few practices he managed to stab into the side of a fish, popping back up to the surface for a deep, well earned breathe as he triumphantly held up the spear. The fish flopped and waved its fins frantically as it was hoisted into the night air. He started back towards the beach, watching Dax float around when his hair stood on end. It felt like the sinking feeling of something much larger than you in the water, and much more eager to make a meal out of you. He hadn't felt that since the lurker sharks, but there was no way- he yelped as something twisted around his ankle and pulled him quickly under the surface. There was a huge mass of something waving around in the water, green flecks of energy the only indication and he began stabbing it with the spear, the poor fish he had getting smashed in the process. His mind flashed to his gun, cursing that he didn't have it, and he kept stabbing at the creature. It tightened its grip on his leg, dragging him deeper into the water and in his panic for breath and for safety familiar purple sparked from his body, stinging through with boiling ripples. Jak let go of the spear, his mind giving in as his vision faded. Clawed hands dug deep into the meat of the creature, tearing as dark eco ripped through the water, crawling in quick zaps over slimy sea skin. The creature panicked and launched the white haired elf, who flung out of the water some feet into the air, splashing back under into the black. The surface stayed silent a minute before Jak popped back up and took to swimming as fast as he could to the shore line, heaving himself onto the sand with a tired laugh as he landed on his back. "Whoo!"

[[[ Dax celebrated as the fish was displayed above his friends head. He gathered his bounty and had made it to the rock when he turned and Jak was nowhere to be seen. He called out for him but there was nothing. Just the upsetting calm of the water. Bubbles emerged from about where his friend had disappeared, by now the rodent had waded back hip deep. When he spied the familiar patch of hair. As Jak lay heaving Daxter hopped onto his chest. "Are you breathing?! Don't go towards the light, big guy! Talk to me! Say something! What was that!?" He said in a panic. "I thought you said there wasn't anything out here that could kill us!" He barked once he knew the man wasn't near death. "Don't ever do something like that to me again, alright. We still have a bachelor pad to put together, remember."

[paralyze-fic]

Paralyze.

Chapter 45

The next day, when I walked into the classroom, I was met with an excited Pikachu.

"Look! It's your name! Your Hero name is all over the internet! That's amazing!" I heard Kaminari exclaiming while shoving his phone at Eijiro's face as I walked to my desk and sat down, soon hearing a growl behind me.

Turning to look, I couldn't help but chuckle at Katsuki's expression.

"What?!" He made explosions towards me, but that didn't intimidate me anymore.

"You're really are like a puppy, especially, a Pomeranian, maybe a Chihuahua too, really noisy." Katsuki scoffed, but I noticed his faint blush, making me resist the urge to ruffle his hair a bit.

"Tsuyu-chan! Uraraka! Look! Your names are here! It's crazy!" Now Ashido behaved the same way Kaminari did.

They both said something and Iida also spoke before ending with the usual Iida thing. "But school work comes first for students! Don't dare fall asleep in class!" He said that staring at Eijiro, Izuku and me. They exclaimed something, but I only nodded and turned to talk with my boyfriend for a bit.

//////

-A few days later-

Togata senpai had told Izuku and me to meet him today, so he and I were heading out -after Katsuki had almost begged me to stay with him, gotta admit, I almost gave in-, and I saw Eijiro ahead of us.

"Oh?!" He turned to look at us greeting us with a wave, "Midoriya! (M/n)! Good morning! You both are heading out too?! What a coincidence!" While we walked towards him, Izuku answered him.

"We haven't been called in a while, but we've been notified today, although they told us not to bring our costumes..." I heard the door behind us open.

"Oh?! Good morning! You three are heading out too?!" Uraraka exclaimed with Tsuyu by her side.

Why do I feel like we're going in the same direction...?

Anyway, on our way to the station two heroes offered to go with us. There, the five of us got on the same train. To the same station. Same direction. And even turning the same corner...

"The Big Three are here together..."

I knew it.

//////

We were guided by our senpai inside the building where lots of heroes were reunited.

"Gran Torino?!" I heard Izuku exclaimed and I saw him staring at a small old man.

"You know him?" He looked at me and nodded.

"I had my internship with him." I hummed and he kept observing around.

I looked away for a second when I heard a familiar voice.

"Aizawa sensei?" He stared at me and nodded once as a greeting. I did too.

"There's so many heroes... This is amazing! What's...?" Before Izuku could finish, Hado senpai interrupted him.

"Ryukyu!" She went to a familiar hero.

Rank 9. Dragon Hero: Ryukyu.

"Thanks to the information everyone has provided, I was able to make a huge advance in the progress of my investigation." We all turned to stare at Sir speaking, "I've called everyone to this reunion only to share the information and also discuss the procedure we'll take against the conspiracy of a little organization called 'Shie Hassaikai'."

Togata, Izuku and I knew what he was talking about. And that also meant... Eri-Chan.

"I'll explain everything, from start to finish."

//////

The reunion started a few minutes later, and everyone was sitting at the long conference table. I was sitting on Izuku's left. He was between Togata senpai and me.

"Approximately, two weeks ago, us Sir Nighteye's office had been doing a private investigation... Directed by the villain organization known as Shie Hassaikai." Bubble Girl started, getting everybody's attention.

"What started it?" A pro hero asked her.

I decided to just look down at my hands placed on my lap, still listening to them.

"An accident that involved a gang of thieves who called themselves Reservoir Dogs," after a tiny pause, two more voices were heard, discussing the matter and saying that they knew who they were. "The police catalogued it as an incident, but there were so many things that didn't accord that we decided to give it following."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw next to Bubble Girl, Sir's assistant Centipeder as he cleared his throat slightly. "My name is Centipeder, a mere assistant, but I was under Nighteye's direction that I lead the following investigations," a noise made me lift my head.

A screen was displaying an image, of Chisaki and one of the villains from the training camp were there.

"As far as our discoveries go, we learned that in the past year, the Shie Hassaikai had been making more contact with external individuals to the organization and other groups from the black market in the country. It seems that these actions were motivated by the desire to expand the organization and gather financial capital." He did a small pause before he continued, "And finally, immediately after we began the investigation... they made contact with a member of the League of Villains, Buibagawara Jin, known by his villain name, 'Twice'. We were incapable of following them and recollecting information about the meeting, but with the help of the police, we confirmed that there was some type of dispute between both of the organizations."

After that, Gran Torino said something about why he and a man called Tsukauchi were there, but somebody asked him where he was, and Gran Torino answered him about where Tsukauchi was. He turned to Izuku.

"I didn't think things would turn like this... but it seems we were pushed to a problematic situation, eh," Izuku answered him, making Togata senpai ask him if they knew each other.

After his answer, Sir spoke, as I looked back down, "Please, continue."

Bubble Girl explained something more, and I heard Uraraka asking what the HN was, to which Hado senpai replied saying it was the 'Hero Network'. Immediately after that, a hero with dark skin sitting on my left complained about us.

"But what is the objective of having the U.A. brats here with us? They're going to mess up the investigation. The moment we start talking about the heart of the situation, things will get dark," the noise of a chair falling made me jump and look up.

Fatgum was standing, his right arm spread over Eijiro's and Amajiki senpai's heads. He said something that made Eijiro stare at him with curiosity and senpai had a depressed aura on him.

"I don't want to be involved in this..." a grin crept up my face at his words. His personality was kinda cute.

"In the past," Sir spoke and I turned to him, "The Shie Hassaikai were suspicious of selling illegal drugs secretly. With that end, I've solicited the assistance of a hero experiment in this camp."

"A while ago," Fatgum talked, and he had candy in his hand.

Where did he get those...?

"I spent a lot of time in that type of activity," he closed his hand in a fist, and a crunching noise was heard when he crushed the candy. "And the other day during the debut battle of Red Riot, Tamaki was shot with something I've never seen before!" His expression changed to a serious one, "A 'drug'," he opened his hand, and pieces of candy fell to the floor, "That disables quirks."

When he finished, Togata senpai asked Amajiki senpai if he was okay, and he explained it to us briefly. But I didn't pay attention as I was trying to comprehend what that actually meant.

Fatgum told us about the destroyed gun and the fragmented bullet, but then he added a thing about how Eijiro took a shot willingly and was able to get an actual bullet.

That made me feel a bit relieved, because Eijiro was fine and because, if we knew about the content inside the bullet, the heroes could maybe nullify their effects.

"After examinations about the content... we made a sickening discovery..." Fatgum's pause made me tense.

I had a bad feeling about those bullets now.

"Inside it, there was blood and human cells."

Eri...

Izuku tensed beside me too, and I could hear everyone commenting on its content.

"Chisaki, the leader of the group, has a quirk called Overhaul. With it, he can unmount and restore objects." Sir's words made me think further about the whole situation, "A quirk that allows him to break something and reassemble it again. And bullets that can erase quirks..."

The bandages Eri-Chan had on her limbs flashed inside my mind. And with just glancing at Izuku and senpai I knew we were thinking the same thing.

The bullets were made with Eri-chan... could it be her quirk or something like that? Either way, I was feeling sick at the moment.

We should've saved her that day.

[maramiri]

OA C1 author's notes

welcome to the new home for these stinky notes. man i can tell i was just so excited to share things with ppl smh.

anyway on with the show

Officially AU from 184, and of course, some events have been shuffled around so I could shoehorn them in (detailed notes at the bottom).

Mostly Tanjirō-centric with some Muzan sprinkled in every so often. Occasional Demon Slayer(s) POV; I’mma be real with you, they can probably be skipped if you don’t give a shit about the DS goons.

First arc’s song: Valky — Any Time

Astral projection: I am a very literal/gullible reader and I accept everything I read at face value, so there might be other people like me, heh. When Muzan talks about tethers, paths, lines, astral projection, etc, he is not literally doing any of that. It’s just visuals to help him (and readers) logic his way around as he uses his telepathy to bad-touch Tanjirō’s brain.

Notes regarding going AU from CH. 184:

Deaths: Nearly everyone should have survived, albeit with varying amounts of serious and non-serious injuries. I just can’t handle the death(s) of major characters ;w; Shinobu does NOT live (I wish I could have her live, ‘cos I hecking love her, but her death was a little too hard to come back from haha. I could think of a few scenarios where she manages to scrape by, but she ultimately doesn’t add anything to the plot so I have chosen to let her death have meaning). Oh, yeah, and Tamayo is officially dead but I mean… she died this chapter.

Sequence of events (in canon): I believe Yushirō’s cat delivering the remaining Tamayo drugs, her explanation of them, and Muzan searching through her cells to find the answer, all happen around CH. 191-ish. Since I couldn’t quite clearly tell if Muzan had drugs 1-3 inside of him already and needed 4, or if he only had 1-2 inside of him and needed 3-4 from the demon cat, I decided to have him be afflicted by all four when he was first initially poisoned, and then he learns everything about them from searching Tamayo’s cells while in the forest. While some side effects do remain from a plot standpoint, I don’t think the nuances of this particular scenario will affect my plot overall. Muzan will still definitely suffer side effects as a result of these poisons, but not to their full extent. [FUTURE HILDA HERE: pretty sure I misremembered and the cat actually injected healy-boopies into the good kids, but it still doesn't matter XD]

[Humanification] Well, he obviously doesn’t become human, and he canonically neutralizes it on his own so that’s out. Added bonus: he now knows how to reverse-reverse engineer what Tamayo did, meaning he could probably humanify anyone he wants? Because that’s something Muzan would do?

[Rapid Ageing] Yep, Muzan is now a 10,000 year old vampire loli daddy. The explanation takes place later after CH184, so therefore he wouldn’t have been 10,000 until that point, but that nuance is too much for my poor brain to figure out. Sure, I could use cues from the time announcements to figure out his proper age but…

[Cannot split apart] Well, he better not get caught like that ever again in the future kek

[Cell destruction at weak points inflicted by Yoriichi] This should still affect Muzan as well, but there isn’t really anyone available with the knowledge to take advantage of this weakness. Yushirō would know and would have told the other Slayers, but Tanjirō wouldn’t know, as this knowledge becomes known in like CH194-ish. Since Muzan knows about the drugs’ effects and/or is more careful, he will likely synthesize a ‘cure’ for the drugs in due time. As of now, his body is simply regenerating the damage. So I suppose he would treat them as permanent handicaps to his ‘energy reservoirs.’ In essence, his battle power has decreased (as he has stated in the manga). For the purpose of the fic, I would say his body has ‘naturally’ fought off the second stage of the drug and is attempting to autonomously decompose the third and then fourth stage. Muzan even considered dedicating his mental capacities to dealing with it, but obviously didn’t because he judged it to not be worth his effort and is fully confident his superior god-like body will take care of it—and if it doesn’t, I mean, he has all the time in the world (again) to deal with it later. Plus, like, he needs a lab and he’s currently shacking up with Tanjirō in a hole he dug up.

THE FOREST AND CAVE: I had to flip back and forth through so many chapters to make sure I wasn’t having a fever dream. (In the manga). There is a scene where Nezuko runs through a field of rice paddies towards the city, and in the distance are some spare forests and mountains. So… [roughly applies artistic license juice into your eyes] for my nefarious purposes, it is now a dense forest with a lot of random caves.

[soulmagz]

31 years of Reservoir Dogs

Reservoir Dogs, a crime/drama and the very first film solely directed by now 2-time academy award winner Quentin Tarantino. The 1992 award winning film follows a group of 6 criminals, who are referred to not as their own name but instead a colour such as Mr Blonde or Mr Pink to preserve their real and personal identity from one another, they are placed together by a character nicknamed ‘Nice Guy Eddie’ who is an aggressive mob underboss and the son of crime boss Joe Cabot, he essentially leads the gang of armed robbers for a heist. After the supposedly ‘easy’ jewellery heist goes bust the group begin to suspect they have been set up by somebody on the inside and portrays how the gang deal with escalating pressure of finding the rat and the growing tension between them whilst hidden away in an old, run down abandoned warehouse close to the scene and presence of many police cars searching for the gang.

Originally upon its release in 1992 the film itself received some backlash regarding its strong themes of violence. The British Board of Film Classification (BBFC) even decided it was necessary to completely ban the film in the UK, even though such scenes of ‘gangster’ related violence had been previously precedented in many other films such as Martin Scorsese’s ‘Goodfellas', this was because they believed the film incited violence, this was until 1995 when the film was re-evaluated and the BBFC came to the conclusion to instead rate the film at an 18 without any cuts. Reservoir dogs eventually gained triumph in the UK’s box office further claiming success for Tarantino.

There are many notable features within the film however, I think one the most impressionable is its very strong cast. The cast includes numerous remarkable actors such as: Harvey Keitel, Michael Madsen, Steve Buscemi and Quentin Tarantino himself. I believe the main thing that makes this cast so impressionable is how well they all complement each other, and this is extremely important to me because you as the audience want to feel convinced by the dialogue and the performance in which in Reservoir Dogs this is made completely possible.

Another personal favourite attribute is the fashion, some may just view the suits worn by each member of the gang as simple and ordinary however, those suits are borrowed from an older post-World War II film genre called film noir which was prevalent mostly in American crime dramas and Quentin Tarantino did this deliberately as he wanted to make the time period somewhat ambiguous so that when the film finally reached audiences the movie wouldn’t feel dated to the current era being the early 1990’s and instead transported the audience to the 1970s.

Upon my first watch I loved this film, I was already aware of Quentin Tarantino and his major, incomparable presence not only when his films, or should I say critically acclaimed cinematic masterpieces? are on screen but also his impact in Hollywood as a whole. I don’t think it's possible for me to ever become bored with this film and I can truly say that watching Reservoir Dogs especially if it is your first time is a phenomenal experience.

[rockislandadultreads]

NoveList Combo: Haunting Literary Fiction

Did you know NoveList is a database you can access with your library card to find reading recommendations? Find your next favorite read with this fantastic readers tool! Check it out on our website here.

Life After Life by Kate Atkinson

What if you could live again and again, until you got it right?

On a cold and snowy night in 1910, Ursula Todd is born to an English banker and his wife. She dies before she can draw her first breath. On that same cold and snowy night, Ursula Todd is born, lets out a lusty wail, and embarks upon a life that will be, to say the least, unusual. For as she grows, she also dies, repeatedly, in a variety of ways, while the young century marches on towards its second cataclysmic world war.

Does Ursula's apparently infinite number of lives give her the power to save the world from its inevitable destiny? And if she can - will she?

This is the first volume in the "Todd Family" series.

The Orchardist by Amanda Coplin

You belong to the earth, and the earth is hard.

At the turn of the twentieth century, in a rural stretch of the Pacific Northwest in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains, a solitary orchardist named Talmadge carefully tends the grove of fruit trees he has cultivated for nearly half a century. A gentle, solitary man, he finds solace and purpose in the sweetness of the apples, apricots, and plums he grows, and in the quiet, beating heart of the land--the valley of yellow grass bordering a deep canyon that has been his home since he was nine years old. Everything he is and has known is tied to this patch of earth. It is where his widowed mother is buried, taken by illness when he was just thirteen, and where his only companion, his beloved teenaged sister Elsbeth, mysteriously disappeared. It is where the horse wranglers--native men, mostly Nez Perce--pass through each spring with their wild herds, setting up camp in the flowering meadows between the trees.

One day, while in town to sell his fruit at the market, two girls, barefoot and dirty, steal some apples. Later, they appear on his homestead, cautious yet curious about the man who gave them no chase. Feral, scared, and very pregnant, Jane and her sister Della take up on Talmadage's land and indulge in his deep reservoir of compassion. Yet just as the girls begin to trust him, brutal men with guns arrive in the orchard, and the shattering tragedy that follows sets Talmadge on an irrevocable course not only to save and protect them, putting himself between the girls and the world, but to reconcile the ghosts of his own troubled past.

The Paper Palace by Miranda Cowley Heller

It is a perfect July morning, and Elle, a fifty-year-old happily married mother of three, awakens at "The Paper Palace"—the family summer place which she has visited every summer of her life. But this morning is different: last night Elle and her oldest friend Jonas crept out the back door into the darkness and had sex with each other for the first time, all while their spouses chatted away inside.

Now, over the next twenty-four hours, Elle will have to decide between the life she has made with her genuinely beloved husband, Peter, and the life she always imagined she would have had with her childhood love, Jonas, if a tragic event hadn't forever changed the course of their lives.

The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey

Alaska, 1920: a brutal place to homestead, and especially tough for recent arrivals Jack and Mabel. Childless, they are drifting apart--he breaking under the weight of the work of the farm; she crumbling from loneliness and despair. In a moment of levity during the season's first snowfall, they build a child out of snow. The next morning the snow child is gone--but they glimpse a young, blonde-haired girl running through the trees. This little girl, who calls herself Faina, seems to be a child of the woods. She hunts with a red fox at her side, skims lightly across the snow, and somehow survives alone in the Alaskan wilderness. As Jack and Mabel struggle to understand this child who could have stepped from the pages of a fairy tale, they come to love her as their own daughter. But in this beautiful, violent place things are rarely as they appear, and what they eventually learn about Faina will transform all of them.

[seabreeze2022]

2023 Bahama Cruise, Part 28. May 12 Governors Harbor, Alabaster Beach, Eleuthera.

This is the chart blow up of Governors Harbor, to give you an idea of the area. Against advice on the chart and our friends who were here a couple of days earlier. We anchored inside the harbor. Our anchor dug in well, and we recklessly never dove it.

After a quick trip to the grocery store for a dozen eggs and another bottle of Coconut Rum. We walked around the harbor shore line. We visited the old cemetery near the water. It was well kept with some very old Grave Stones. Behind the cemetery was the St. Patrick’s Anglican Church, built in 1848.

Just around the corner from the church was this beautiful building. It is the “Haynes Library” built much later in 1897. Notice the huge concrete buttresses at the corners, facing 45 degrees from the building. The ones in the back go almost all the way up the second floor. This library was built to withstand a Hurricane. Hurricane Andrew came nearby in 1992 as a Category 3 Hurricane.

Cupid’s Cay makes the outer hook of the harbor. Not sure if it was a separate Cay originally or not as the name would suggest. But today it is connected to the mainland by a substantial causeway. Cupid’s Cay was the home of the first Bahama Parliament in 1736.

On Cupid’s Cay was the first U.S. Consulate to the Bahamas in 1789.

This is a hotel rental on the Cupid’s Cay. This reminds us of old Key West. We walked back to the dinghy and then moved to the boat for the night.

The next morning we did a quick walk through the better part of town. These were well kept up old houses that you can rent. Grounds were green with landscaping and well kept. Really reminds us of Old Key West.

This walk took us over the top of the ridge about 142 ft. high. The ends up going through a carved out are to keep it from being so steep. There was an cement cistern reservoir at the top to supply water pressure to the neighborhood.

From the top we could see both coast of the island. Once we finished this short walk it was back to the boat and move anchorages. Governors Harbor left a good impression with us. Part of it was like most of the settlements. Parts were going high class rentals. Lots of history in this town.

As always the few people we met were very nice and friendly. Apparently there are no snakes on this Island. The chickens and rosters have run amuck. The crowing starts early and is continuous for hours before daybreak.

This is Alabaster Bay. It is 6 miles north of Governors Harbor.

On Monday 13th, we hike 3.7 miles round trip. First across the island to the abandoned US Navy Base. Right turn and a 1 mile plus hike down the beach. Lunch at “The Deck” then continuing clockwise out to the Queen’s Highway and home.

In 1950 this USNavy Base was started as an experimental SOSUS (Sound Surveillance System) having 6 hydrophones deployed off shore. Then in 1958 it became a missile tracking site for US missiles launched from Cape Canaveral. Typical of USNavy bases on islands, they concrete the sides of hills to catch the rain water at the bottom. See photo above, there were several of these. The base was closed in 1982. During its tenure, usually only the Base Commander was actually in the military. The other personnel worked either for Pan American Airways (Pan Am) or Radio Corporation of America (RCA).

In 1957 the base became the Eleuthera Auxiliary Air Force Base (AAFB).

Being a sailor I can’t help but drag a large clump of net and floats up to the high tide mark. It would be a nightmare if you fouled your prop in the open ocean with something like this.

This is “The Deck”. A bar and grill on the oceanside. It is owned by Mark Robert a descendent of the original settlers at Hope Town Abaco.

Bacon Cheese Burgers in Paradise. We learned a new trick. When flies are giving you a problem, light a can of sterno. Even after you put it out they stay away for several minutes.

This is all the treasure we collected on the beach. The most prized of the different sea beans, is the “Hamburger bean” (front left).

It was a slow hike back to the boat after the huge lunch. Nancy cut my hair and beard. After a short recovery time from the lunch. We pulled anchor and sailed north to Hatchet Bay. We tried to out run some storms coming up from the south. Didn’t work out so well.

Using Standard WaterTribe rules. We reefed early. If reefing even enters your mind, then you should go ahead and reef (pull in) your sails. Since we did, the gust from the storm never materialized.

This very well could be a hairy entrance., it is 80 ft. wide and has rock cliffs. Large amount of current to get in and out of this small cut. We had 2 ft. swells and 12-15 kt. winds.

We came into the bay and put out a “Security call” on VHF announcing our entry into the bay. The mailboats and car ferries never say when they are approaching or exiting the harbor. We assume they have a VHF, but they seldom ever answer.

We entered during the top of the flood tide, so no current was evident. We put our anchor down in the north end of the harbor. Only 8 cruisers here. Three left the next morning.

S/V Sea Breeze, Alabaster Bay, Eleuthera, Bahamas.