#we've talked in (electric) spirit

[buwheal]

Honestly as much as it sucks not being able to show like. 90% of what I have planned due to no one asking about it, the 10% of the time they do is like. God it's so good. You have no idea how amazing it felt when FINALLY people asked if Yellow knew Spam tore off his face.

I try my best to give hints but at the end of the day, if they don't pick up on it, I don’t touch it until it's important again. Obviously this doesn't really work with your not-story ask blog but... idk. I guess it's just something I keep in mind. If it's really important, if it's something they Need to know, it's best to make it obvious enough for the majority to understand. I mean, remember when it took like 2 days for just Me to realize spam was saying he doesn't starve /all/ the time?

Most people aren't extremely detail oriented, I've realized, and it makes it harder to strike a balance between a hint and essentially giving the answer on a silver platter.

Sorry I'm just rambling in your box. I guess I'm just trying to give my own perspective? Idk. What is bro yapping about etc etc.

Ouuhhh i BET!!!! Its so fun i get what you mean!!! Ty for the advice,, btw!! Its rlly helpful to get another perspective from someone who also has an active spam box lol X-S That i know of at least... may be more.. I think i gotta tinker with some stuff btw !!!!DO NOT!!!!! (/silly) apologize!!! for yapping!!!! or for rambling!!!! I love hearing from my moots!!! :wave:!!!!! All the little guys in my puter your little ramblings are music to my ears

[krems-chair]

I'm always interested in analyses that portray a romanced Solas as a predatory hee hee trickster god manipulating a young and impressionable Lavellan into falling for him and if that's your world state go ahead and live your truth b/c it's frankly none of my business, but I sincerely think there are those who forget that for a lot of people, a romanced Lavellan is (with all due respect to my own Solasmancing Inquisitor Rielle Lavelllan) batshit crazy. Having her boyfriend turn out to be a wolf god is honestly the least of her problems but oh boy is she unafraid to become one to fix this mess.

This is a woman who woke up in a dungeon with a glowing hand, figured out she could fix the world, and thought "fuck it, it's not like I'll have anything else better to do if Corypheus sticks around. Also. Everyone here kind of looks like they want to kill me, so maybe I'll stick with the protective powers that be for a minute." And then all of five seconds later she gets her hand snatched by a sketchy elven apostate who knows exactly what to do with her shiny new powers and cannot stop himself from having a Mr. Darcy level hand-flex after he lets it go (in my heart and soul this happens just out of the camera's gaze) and goes "hmm maybe there's something to be said for this world saving thing."

This is a woman who brought an entire fucking avalanche down on herself and three of her closest friends (and I do mean closest as in physical proximity, she doesn't know these people who are looking at her like she's Thedas' Next Top Idol) because even if it killed her it was the proper middle finger to send to the wannabe god bringing his army tap-dancing down the mountain pass towards her on the one night she had scheduled off to celebrate finally taking a W.

This is a woman going Take 2 Electric Boogaloo on waking up with no idea where she is and learning she was successful in spite-dragging herself up a different fucking mountain in a blizzard. Except now everyone is fighting wait nope now they're Kumbaya-ing a song Andraste's Herald should really probably be familiar with whoops, oh thank God, time for a side convo with the same apostate who's been trying to turn her entire life into a history class only for her to dive in headfirst (much to his initial abject horror) and get that good good discourse she needs since she can't go around arguing with everyone else like she wants to. "The orb is ours." You know what? Of course it is. But if they need the world saved from an elven oopsie, who better to right things than an elf? Fuck it, we ball.

This is a woman who misses being close to nature and goes positively feral at Skyhold, yeeting herself over balconies and banisters and turning the ancient fortress into her personal parkour playground because she's got energy to work off and shit to do, and if the path of least resistance to hunt down everyone she needs to talk to is coincidentally the same path that will absolutely wreck her knees by the time she's sixty, that's just how it has to be.

This is a woman who finds herself back at Haven with a man she's found it possible to be unfetteringly unabashedly herself with and thinks, "hey, maybe there could be more than the flirations we've exchanged over heated discussions and philosophical deep-dives, maybe I can have just one smooch as a treat." And when she feels her slowly unfurling passion reciprocated only to be shut down? She resolves herself to fight for this fledgling love and all the fade tongue that comes with it. This is a woman who gets the tiniest glimpse of what a retirement plan might look like after this whole saving the mortal world thing and buys all the way in.

This is a woman who has Grey Wardens to save from themselves, an empire trying to self-cannibalize, and still finds the time to go rescue a spirit because she, as a fellow comrade caught up in this mess, knows damn well that no innocent deserves to suffer if she can help it while she's got this insane amount of power she never asked for. And if that happens to lead to the man she feels safe enough to nap on the library couches with confessing at last the feelings she knows he's been smothering beneath his all-too-collected surface? Yeah, she'll take that W.

This is a woman who gets absolutely blasted head-over-ass into the fade and goes "honestly things were going a little TOO well." This is a woman who sneaks a peak at the closest fears of the companions she's come to know and love and goes "not on my fucking watch." This is a woman who sees that the man she forces herself to learn the old language for, her vhenan, fears being alone more than anything in the entire knowing world and resolves herself to ensuring it never comes to pass.

This is a woman who gets the opportunity to shape the government of a straight up country and runs around collecting wooden fucking halla in a palace full of elven servants with no time to dwell on that particularly cruel irony because out here it's scheme or be schemed. This a woman who collapses against a balcony railing after putting out some of the sickest literal and metaphorical dance moves The Game has ever seen, resigned to bear her ever-increasing burdens alone, only to find her heart and his horrible horrible hat extending a hand, promising her that if he is not alone, then neither is she.

Like, do you feel me here?

And then he dares to think something as sudden and damning as the truth is enough to keep her away? The queen of tough conversations and tougher choices? No, no, dear readers who have made it this far into my descent into madness.

Inquisitor Lavellan is a master-class in encouraging the odds against her to fuck around and find out. She is a rift-mending false-god-bashing politcally savvy terror upon all of Thedas. Solas (and all of the living breathing world) is lucky she took time out of her busy schedule to notice the way his smile softens when talking about spirits or appreciate the fluidity of his form when they're obliterating venatori out in the field. This man cradled her cheeks in his shaking hands, looked into weary and wide eyes and called her beautiful, and had the audacity to steal her heart before trying to peace out and take it with him.

If she's got to track down a real god this time and frog march him into the fade to reclaim both her heart and the future she fought for because all he wants to do is launch himself like a meteor towards achieving his greatest fear, if she has to spend hours lecturing him on the sheer audacity of his ass while spirits float by and realize they're grateful they never had the chance to take on a body and subject themselves to a verbal lashing this brutal, if she has to do cartwheels around him while dropping all sorts of sweet nothings in the language she is now quite proficient in until he gets it through his luminous gleaming skull that when she said "var lath vir suledin" my girl meant it? Then that's what she's going to do.

"I wish it could, vhenan."

Oh it's going to, buddy. Buckle up to get wrecked, to get absolutely loved and cherished you fool, because Inquisitor Lavellan is not the Dread Wolf's prey, she's his hunter.

[storiesfromgaza]

Greetings, everyone

Ever since the inception of this blog, a persistent question has been haunting me: Will any of this truly make a difference? I swiftly brushed it aside, reminding myself, 'Why should I concern my mind with this? I'll focus my abilities on doing everything within my power without fixating on the outcome.'

With this in mind, I embarked on the path of translation and article writing with unwavering dedication, telling myself that if I could reach just one individual and dispel the darkness that media relentlessly tries to cast over their eyes, veiling their spirit, that would be fulfilling enough for me.

And now, a mere five days after the creation of this blog, I felt compelled to write this message to you because I understand that this question plagues your thoughts as well. Does any of this hold significance? Does any of this create a meaningful impact?

This is a comment from a woman on the video of the elderly couple who were carrying a lifeless child (their son or grandchild) after they brought him out from under the debris.

This is just one example of a woman who heightened her awareness and began harnessing everything within her grasp, investing it in any opportunity to help, from offering support to educating herself and sharing her knowledge with those around her, including her family.

Today, and just five days after the creation of this blog, we have reached 10,871 people. which I'm asking you not to treat it as a mere number; because each one of them represents an individual, a person with an identity, a life, a story, a family, friends and an impact on society, no matter how small. Each one of them is a human being, just like her. Even if we assume that only a quarter of this number are people who have increased their awareness and shared the truth with those around them, we're talking about 2,717 people! A significant number in a short period, just five days.

The second noteworthy point is when Gaza was completely cut off from the world, with internet, communication networks, and even electricity severed, after the uprising in which everyone, including you, participated. The internet was restored to Gaza after only two days.

Furthermore, a literary magazine that focuses on multilingualism contacted us, asking to publish the stories and articles we've translated here in their upcoming issue, which will expand their reach to a larger audience.

All of this, thanks to God, happened in less than one week (five days) after creating the blog. Now, after all this, have you received an answer to your question?

#2- many of you are asking about is how you can help? In reality, there are several ways, with the Blaze feature offered by Tumblr being a prominent one. This feature allows the audience to promote any post they choose on the blog to a specific number of viewers, constrained by the amount of Blaze.

With only 5 dollars, the smallest amount of support, you can promote a post to 2,500 people! 2,500 Human!

25 dollars your chosen post will reach 7,000 people! 7000 Human!

65 dollars will result in the chosen post reaching 20,000 people, 20,000 Human!

and for the maximum support amount, which is 150 dollars, your selected post will be delivered to 50,000 people, 50,000 Human!"

Promoting posts with Blaze won't only increases the reach of the specific post but also directs more traffic to the blog itself, as those who see the promoted post are likely to visit the blog and explore other stories and articles. So, it's impact not limited to a single post.

Furthermore, you can choose the audience of the country you want to target using the Blaze feature, such as Australia, Brazil, Canada, Germany, Mexico, the United Kingdom, and the United States. You can do all of this by clicking the Blaze button below any post you want to promote.

If you are able to support with any amount, it will make a significant difference in reaching a larger audience and increasing awareness. If you find it difficult to select a specific post or story to use the Blaze feature on, I will provide some suggestions here that would be beneficial to promote and reach a wider audience:

The video of the elderly couple carrying a child's lifeless body, with the man's face adorned with a thousand years of sorrow, helplessness, and despair, while the woman continues to weep beside him. [https://www.tumblr.com/storiesfromgaza/732477157492834304/two-elderly-people-the-mans-face-adorned-with?source=share]

The video of the woman carrying her child's body, weeping and asking her father to leave her child in her embrace, and then requesting them to bury her with him. [https://www.tumblr.com/storiesfromgaza/732437085371432960/after-losing-her-child-to-the-shelling-a?source=share]

The story of the suffering of the girl Saba [https://www.tumblr.com/storiesfromgaza/732282818040872960/saba-my-cousin-is-in-the-third-grade-in-2019?source=share]

The story of Emad's only son. [https://www.tumblr.com/storiesfromgaza/732168563115409408/i-sat-with-emad-on-the-corner-of-the-street-he?source=share]

The story of Majd's little sister. [https://www.tumblr.com/storiesfromgaza/732160503297769472/my-little-sister-in-the-midst-of-everything?source=share]

The child Yussuf. [https://www.tumblr.com/storiesfromgaza/732146206757830656/what-is-the-worst-nightmare-for-any-healthcare?source=share]

Your support will make a significant difference, and for those who cannot provide support, simply sharing the content here and on Instagram (@amrshater), following and engaging with it, and sharing it on your own accounts' stories will also make a significant impact by reaching a larger audience.

In the end, Alhamdulillah (praise be to God), and thank you all.

[mikeywayarchive]

Photo: Jawn Rocha

Mikey Way debuts his Dark Horse Comics series, Christmas 365

Anna Zanes | July 24, 2024

Full article under the cut:

It might still be sunny out, but Mikey Way is stuck on Christmas. Alongside co-writer Jonathan Rivera and illustrator Piotr Kowalski, with Brad Simpson on colors, the My Chem guitarist-cum-graphic novelist (Electric Century, Collapser) has announced Christmas 365, an upcoming series with Dark Horse Comics, also home to Gerard Way’s Paranoid Gardens and The Umbrella Academy. This oddly feel-good story, bizarre and magical as it is loaded with gallows humor, follows the arc of Peter Rockwell and his family as they navigate the treacherous holiday season, aided by some words of wisdom from a strip mall Santa. Way describes the surreal satire astutely: “Like most kids growing up, I would often fantasize, ‘What if [Christmas] never had to end?’ That very thought was what sparked this story.” Though it's got the spirit of The Nightmare Before Christmas and the kooky suburban charm of Better Off Dead — this team has created a series that’s fresh, surprising, a bit spooky, and entirely their own. 

In speaking to their process, AP connected with co-writers Way and Rivera. “Finally being able to tell this story is a real dream come true! The idea came about a decade ago, and there were plenty of starts and stops in the process,” Way shares. “Putting it in comic form felt like the perfect way to tell the story exactly how we envisioned it after so many years of wanting to share it with the world. Let's be honest, I don't think there's a kid alive who hasn't wished Christmas would never end. Haven't we all fantasized about it being something we got to live day after day?” He continues, “I saw this as an opportunity to tell a funny but heartfelt story, in the vein of all of the classic ’80s and ’90s Christmas movies that I loved so much. I remember watching Home Alone and National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation back to back one night and wondering, ‘What story is left to tell?’ An hour or two later, the framework for Christmas 365 was born.”

The connection between co-writers has been an ongoing one, though this project sees it come to fruition. “It's been really fulfilling getting to finally write a story with Jonathan Rivera, who is one of my best friends — I think we've known each other over 20 years now,” Way says. As for the rest of the highly experienced team, “Piotr Kowalski and Brad Simpson brought the story to life exactly as we imagined, giving it the feel and imagery of a ’90s Christmas movie through and through. Daniel Chabon has been a terrific editor to work with and really helped us keep the story focused. I am sure this goes without saying, but it has been a real honor to be able to put out a comic under the Dark Horse banner. The folks over there have always been super kind and supportive to me, and have a rich history with my brother. So to be joining the ‘family’ with my own story to tell is pretty surreal!” 

Rivera, also known for Cave Carson Has a Cybernetic Eye, adds, “Mikey and I had been talking about this story for a while, but it really started to come together as a comic during the pandemic. We’re living in stressful times, so it felt so cathartic to work on such a sweet and strange story about forgiveness and spending time with the people we love. It’s also the type of story we rarely see in comics, and that made me really excited as well.” 

For the writer, a goal has been achieved with this project. Dark Horse has long been a northern star in the industry for Rivera, who caps the chat off with, “I’ve been a fan of Dark Horse comics since I picked up their first Aliens vs. Predator miniseries as a kid. I later worked with them when I ran the official Myspace for The Umbrella Academy back when dinosaurs roamed the Earth. So it brings me great joy to come home again with a book that means so much to me!”

Dark Horse Comics

Dark Horse Comics

[fans4wga]

WGA UPDATE: "Where We Are and Where We’re Going"

From WGA West on Youtube: WGA Negotiating Committee Co-Chair Chris Keyser gives an update one month into the Writers Guild strike.

Mod note: While this video is intended for WGA members, it's a great morale boost and affirmation that what we do as fans and audience members matters. Make your voice heard on social media. Studios are losing the PR battle right now, but strike fatigue may set in later on—fight it and keep up morale among yourself and your fandom communities!

Full transcript below the cut (1992 words)

“Where We Are And Where We’re Going” June 2, 2023

Fellow members of the WGA, East and West, thank you for giving me a few minutes to update you on where we are and where we're going. Our strike against the companies of the AMPTP is now in its fifth week. We have walked together on picket lines for a month. With the acknowledgment that there is no letting up until we ultimately achieve the contract we deserve and that we need to survive in this business, I will say, we should all take a minute to appreciate what we've accomplished. We have been highly effective in inflicting pain on the companies by withholding our work, by picketing itself, publicly demonstrating our resolve, our endurance, our sometimes even joyful commitment to a joyless task, by bringing to our side a coalition of labor that this town has not seen in generations, by disrupting production in concert with those union allies who honor our lines, and by informing investors and advertisers of those disruptions.

Our message has power because it's true. We believe in it because we know it's true. But that only goes so far. What has real power, what moves people, what will move this town one day, is our belief in each other. So thank you, all of you. All our picket site coordinators, all our incredible captains, every single member who has spoken with their feet as well as their voice, who has stuck with both the letter and the spirit of the strike rules. Thank you to Guild staff, who have gone above and beyond and then beyond that. Thank you to the other Guilds and unions: the Teamsters, IATSE, SAG-AFTRA, the Musicians, the Electrical Workers, the Plasterers, the Laborers, the DGA, and everyone else who have sent a message to the companies with their solidarity.

What have the companies been doing in the meantime? Well, they've been putting out heartfelt statements from their executives that they truly hope the strike can be resolved quickly for everyone's benefit, which is weird. They hope? Aren't these their companies? Don't know where to find us? We are, after all, right outside their gates. They claim they don't have time for us, that they're busy. That's a lie, it's just a lie. They could talk to us if they wanted to. This is their strategy, such as it is. The same old strategy. But it's not going to work. If Carol Lombardini thinks negotiating with the DGA while we're out on strike is some kind of trump card, she's gonna find out that her 2007/8 playbook doesn't belong in a negotiating room, it belongs in a museum. Any deal that puts this town back to work runs straight through the WGA, and there is no way around us. We wish the DGA the best in their negotiations. That goes for SAG-AFTRA as well.

We are, as I said before, infinitely grateful to all their members who have marched with us every day. We are rooting hard for them to exercise their power and achieve the contract they deserve. They are hurting just like we are. They are at risk just like we are. SAG-AFTRA's SAV vote should send shivers down the companies' spine.

The month of June will bring us all some answers. By the time it's over, the companies may find themselves embattled on more than one front, or we alone may be without a contract. And either way, we will fight on with this understanding: We are girded by an alliance with our sister guilds and unions, they give us strength, but we are strong enough. We have always been strong enough to get the deal we need using writer power alone. We were strong enough in 2007/8, we were strong enough during the agency campaign, we are strong enough now.

As David Goodman and I have said from the very beginning, the single thing that will determine whether we succeed or fail in this strike is our endurance, both physical and emotional. I have no doubt about that endurance. Writers' strength of character aside, the companies have made us strong. They have taught us, however painfully, to withstand months and months without work. Their abuse of us has made it untenable to rush back to jobs that may not even be there in a year or two in a career where even success is financially unsustainable. But even as we endure, there will be challenges, it will be painful. Uncertainty is painful. Is there any one of us who doesn't wake up feeling the weight of this every day? I don't think so. Having no income in a tenuous job market is painful, there's help for that, of course, through the Strike Fund and the Good and Welfare Fund and the Entertainment Community Fund, but none of that is the same as having a job, and everyone understands that.

We will need to steel ourselves against arguments whispered in our ears designed to weaken our resolve, to distrust each other. I'm gonna say them out loud again because it's better to talk about them than to ignore them. The first is that the Guild is just waiting for the AMPTP to decide when negotiations begin again. We are negotiating now. Every day, we are negotiating. We are making the only argument the companies can hear, the argument of power. We are withholding our work, disrupting productions, talking to Wall Street, to City Hall, Sacramento, and Washington D.C. We are bringing allies to our cause. This is the work. This is the leverage. It is the same in any strike, and it will take time. But if we believe the central truth of our cause, that it all starts with writing and that nothing happens without it, then we have to trust that truth and stay the course.

Related, of course, is the lie that the companies are impervious to all of this. Every day, the cost of not negotiating with us adds up. And it's not just from the shutdowns that get all the attention, it's the shows that will shoot until they run out of scripts and then stop dead, the shows that will finish shooting and grind to a halt in post, it's the fall broadcast season that day by day will begin to slip away. It's the pain that for others will come later but will come. Because subscribers don't pay for platforms with meager product and advertisers just don't pay for shows with meager audiences.

So all the silent CEOs lounging on their summer yachts, leaving it all to Carol and the AMPTP, will have some explaining to do once it becomes clear that we are not going anywhere. The parent companies of the broadcast networks as well as Sony will have to explain the strategy of risking those broadcast interests to the interests of tech companies who will still have products to air in the fall. They'll have to explain linking their fates to the fates of those same companies whose explicit intention is to eat them for breakfast, one at a time. They will have to explain their refusal to negotiate with us over business practices that are roughly in line with how they have done business for decades. Even those companies whose business is a half-and-half mix of streaming and linear programming, Disney, Comcast, NBCUniversal, and Paramount, but whose streaming businesses rely heavily on the content they make for network television, content that is about to dry up, will have to explain. Warner Discovery will have to explain why writers are a greater threat to them than Netflix and how, having dumped content and shut down development for the past year to pay for one man's merger, they intend to compete without scripted programming. Apple will have to explain how this little experiment in branding is working out for them and why, with their nearly $3 trillion in market capitalization, they refuse to even talk to writers over a $17 million ask a year. Why this company that became rich beyond measure from its creative brilliance refuses to allow writers just a fair share of ours.

As for Amazon, given the way they treat unions, maybe they think they don't have to explain anything. But this is a different town they're in now. Even Netflix, who alone among all these companies, has no other product but its programming and for whom subscription churn is a huge problem, whose quarterly results can be made or broken by the success of a single smash hit show, will have to explain. Because the hole in content is coming for them too. It may be coming later, but it's coming, and Wall Street will take note.

All of which is to say, hang on. We are doing what we set out to do, and it's having an impact even beyond the lives of writers. It began with every other Guild and union in this business who saw in our struggle a mirror of their own. What I'm telling you is that when you walk in circles in front of every studio in town, you are carrying with you a cause that is larger than just us and this business, though just us and this business would have been enough. We are marching for labor, and labor is watching us. We have, it turns out to our great fortune, something very precious. We have a strong union in a heavily unionized industry. We have what many workers in this country do not. If we succeed, we will make it easier, not easy, but easier, for others to succeed after us. If we falter, if we fail, if it is the companies' power that wins the day and not ours, then we will have failed for everyone. We will have made it harder for everyone.

And I mean that not as a burden but as a purpose. The signs we carry have messages written on them in invisible, visible ink, and all who labor can read them: that everyone who works has a right to be treated with dignity, that we are not diminished by the size of the company that employs us, that what we want is not just a gig, not just a job, but a career with a future and with promise, and that first among those promises is that if you do good work, you can make a life out of doing that thing. That technology driven only by unchecked capitalism and with no attention to its human costs and moral implications is a threat to us all. It must be controlled. It cannot be left only to those who would always rather make a dollar than a good decision. And that, as I have said before, the promise of this country belongs also to those who make something other than just money.

The companies think that time is weakening us, but they are wrong. It is making us stronger. Every day they refuse to negotiate, they bring us together at their gates to hear each other's stories, and in those stories to hear echoes of our own. They have reminded us every day of the thousands of other people for whom we are fighting and reminded us, too, that thousands of other people are fighting for us.

To paraphrase a line, we are now perhaps at the end of the beginning. No one knows how long this will take. The companies will have some say in that. What they will have no say in is how we behave along the way in our fortitude. But they will come to understand it, and they will pay it the respect it deserves in time.

On behalf of the leadership and the NegCom [Negotiating Committee], I thank you all again. We have marched with you every day. We are in awe of this membership. You give us strength. Union now. Union forever.

[ladylilithprime]

Day 6: Electric

(Thanks to @rodiniaorzetalthepenquin and @karategirl80 for bouncing ideas with me!)

IN THE USUAL course of investigating a possible ghost hunt, by the time it came to the attention of actual hunters, nineteen times out of twenty it was a ghost or poltergeist that was being dismissed as bad electrical wiring, and the rare one instance where the person actually knew it was a ghost even if they didn't know what to do about it. There was a formula to it, to sorting out the truth and helping the restless spirits move on, gently or forcefully as need be. Sam had turned it into practically an artform after thirty years on the road and twenty spent actively hunting, barring that three and a half year break for college. And with Dean currently on stand-down with Charlie keeping an eye on him and that nasty little murder mark on his arm, Sam had Castiel along as his hunting partner, which would help cut down the time searching out the spiteful spirit.

Cut it down to nothing, as it turned out. While Sam talked to the older homeowner, a woman who had known Rufus Turner once upon a time and had followed the trail of his contacts to find someone to help with her "ghost problem", Castiel had played the role of hunter-friendly psychic and surveyed the house more directly with his Grace. The results that came back were a cause for dismay and aggravation and an unexpectedly free evening for the visiting hunters.

"A prank," Sam repeated as he stepped into the motel room, tugging off his jacket. "Because the house actually had some faulty electrical wiring that was acting up and the neighbor's kid thought it would be funny to make the 'kooky old lady next door' think her house was haunted!"

"I dare say that boy will be thinking twice about playing any other such 'pranks' after the lecture you gave him while Mrs Feltsman called the electricians," Castiel offered as he entered their room after Sam, closing the door behind them and, after a brief hesitation, flipping the lock switch as well. Sam huffed a laugh, then sighed and draped the jacket over the back of the desk chair before dropping into it.

"Was I too hard on him, d'you think?" he asked, looking up at Castiel worriedly.

To his credit, Castiel tilted his head to one side and visibly thought through the question before he answered. "I do not believe so, no. The boy had no true malice in his heart, but his delight in mischief and pranking was perhaps not as harmless as he had led himself to believe. Best that he learn there are certain boundaries to such things necessary to keep them truly in good fun."

"I guess so," Sam conceded. That had been what he'd been going for with the lecture, but now that he was back in the motel room he worried that maybe he had gone too far, seeing shades of Dean in the kid's close-cropped hair and cocky smirk. Shaking it off, he looked up and offered Castiel a small, tentative smile. "Well, we've got the room already paid for the night and no more need to either go digging in the dark or skipping town to avoid notice after a salt and burn.... anything in particular you feel like doing?"

"There are many things that I would like to do with you, Sam," Castiel murmured, fixing the hunter with his gaze, eyes dark and blue and altogether too heavy and intent for such innocent phrasing. Just as Sam felt his pulse begin to pick up speed, Castiel slid his eyes away towards the televison and the weight lifted. "While this motel may not have Netflix, there may still be a movie or documentary that we could watch together."

"Sure, yeah, that sounds good," Sam nodded quickly, trying his best to sound normal instead of straining against the rush of heat and the electric prickle of arousal that gaze had sent through him. He cleared his throat and swallowed before managing a more steady-sounding, "How about you take a look for something while I clean up and get changed."

"As you wish," Castiel hummed, picking up the remote control and turning on the television just as easily as he was apparently turning Sam on. Like the angel didn't know what he was doing to Sam with that wording choice. With another mumble of agreement, Sam got up and grabbed a pair of flannel pajama pants out of his duffel bag and fled to the bathroom.

Castiel had removed his overcoat and suit jacket and found a nature documentary on various types of birds by the time Sam emerged from the bathroom, clean inside and out as best as he could manage with the motel's meager amenities. He smiled at Sam as the hunter joined him on the bed, a flicker of that previous intensity making itself known as the angel took in the loose-fitting pajama pants and tight t-shirt Sam was wearing. "I have texted Charlie with an update on our case and subsequent change of plans. Her response was brief, but supportive."

"Really?" Sam blinked.

"Her response was, quote, 'woo hoo, get it, hotshot'," Castiel replied dryly. "I assumed that means that she approves."

"Uh, yeah, that's... approving," Sam mumbled, ducking his head reflexively to try and shield the sudden flush to his face. He almost asked what Castiel had sent to Charlie, but stopped himself. Charlie was very similar to Dean in a lot of ways, after all. She could easily have responded like that no matter how Castiel had phrased his own text. And if she had told Dean and he hadn't sent his own text, that was as good as approval from him, too.

The birds were surprisingly interesting to watch, though Sam noticed that not even David Attenborough's soothing narrative could distract him from the angel at his side. Especially when the documentary turned to talking about the various mating rituals of the brightly colored tropical birds and the different wing displays and dances performed. It had to be his imagination that he was feeling the faintest hint of feathers brushing against the skin of his arms and neck, as if Castiel had extended one of his own wings to wrap around Sam as they sat together...

The lights flickered and then went out as the television abruptly went dark.

"Shit," Sam muttered, blinking in the darkness and then closing his eyes to try and hurry them up in adapting.

"Stay here," Castiel directed. Sam felt the bed move as the angel got up and heard his footsteps as he crossed to the window. Very dim light spilled through the curtains as Castiel pulled them aside, allowing Sam to see the frown of consternation on his face. "The lights in the parking lot and across the street are also dark. It appears to be a broad power outage, not merely our room or the motel alone."

"Great," Sam sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Well. There's electric candles in my duffel, if you can grab 'em."

Not that Castiel would need the light at all, but Sam was having to work a bit to keep his breathing even with the loss of both light and heat from the power outage and Castiel's current distance. The light disappeared as Castiel let the curtain drop, and Sam carefully tracked his footsteps over to the duffel, listening hard for the sounds of the zipper and Castiel sifting through the contents within. A moment later, there was a soft click and the pale yellow glow of a battery powered flame-shaped bulb lit the room.

"Will this be sufficient?" Castiel asked, looking up at Sam from where he knelt by the bag. "It would perhaps be wise to keep the others in reserve in case the power outage extends for the whole night, but if you need more...."

"This is fine," Sam assured him, nodding quickly. It was a fair point. Sam really didn't need that much light, especially not for sleep, just so long as it was enough for him to see Castiel and be assured of which angel was with him when he woke. Castiel returned the nod and got to his feet, returning to stand over Sam by the bed and setting the candle on the table beside them. Then he opened his hand other hand and Sam felt the heat rushing back to his face at the sight of the plastic tube of KY the angel was holding. "Uh..."

"I realize that it may take a bit to 'recapture the mood'," Castiel murmured, low and almost purring, sending shivers of desire up Sam's spine. "However, with the power outage rendering the television unavailable, perhaps we might dispense with the pretext of watching birds and proceed with our own 'mating rituals'."

"Uh," Sam said intelligently, brain shorting out as surely as the power had earlier. He swallowed, staring up into Castiel's lust-darkening eyes. "As you wish?"

Castiel smiled.

[ethersierra]

So. There was a noticeable lack of silence in the beginning of today's Steeplechase episode. For those familiar with my nanofather insane post, you know I'm already on the case faster than Darla Davis.

Episode 35 followed up the rather offputting Krystal with a K intro with the Steeplechase theme song, and then... immediate dialogue, in media res...

Far weirder to me than the silence.

True, Justin could have just gotten over the bit since it'd been three episodes. Maybe the Nanofather truly is gone.

But I don't buy that. Not for a second.

Episode 33 ended with dialogue from Orwell, the gorilla-dactyl. Episode 34 we still had a solid six-second silence, then discussion period before Justin recontextualized them, presumably because Orwell was done speaking.

But 35. There is less than a second of silence. No fucking silence. It's just Orwell. Last episode Orwell was there at the start but he was just ominously staring at them right? Like he wasn't actively conversing with them, there's a precedent.

My current understanding of the nanofather is that he goes through electricity or energy and is specifically more able to inhabit animatronics, as we've seen with Geltfrimpen. When he's in hardlight, he can't really talk, just observe. In the arcade machine he was able to speak a bit, but it was weak and he seemed to be running out of time. In those moments, he is able to interact with the characters.

When the other nanofather intros start he isn't talking to the characters, though, he's talking to the players and audience. When he is talking to us/the players, he's called us spirits, and he seems to have a physical form but it's like... The mechanism is THROUGH the park. He connects to the animatronics and it's a bridge to the characters. There is a secondary function that connects him to us that was taken away when they were put in Kidadelphia. Not necessarily from the characters though. Because he manifests in electricity/animatronics and well... the animatronics of jungle island are FROM Steeplechase originally so he could have inhabited them that way and a part of him still be connected. Remember, he is scattered. He is not in one place, not in one form.

The significance of this episode is that we have further confirmation of the divide in how he interacts with the audience versus the characters. Justin makes a clear point that in Kidadelphia, they are disconnected from the main source of power within Steeplechase. If you connect this to the ways he's spoken with the audience, it makes sense-- we are heard through the "horn" and the walls.

Additionally, if we recall when he inhabited Geltfrimpen, creaky man said he was shattered in several places across the world. That shows that he, as he exists within the universe of Steeplechase, is not bound to the confines of the park (unless "the world" is the park).

TLDR The Nanofather exists in Orwell. He is sort of a spirit within the animatronics, it would seem. Or something close to that. He seems to have reverted back to observing rather than speaking, due to his weakened state.

Either that or Kenchal Denton killed him too hehe

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Long-Distance Call

Masterlist

Sam and I were walking across a city square toward Dean who was sitting on a bench and talking on his phone. He hangs up then in one motion picks up and throws an unopened can of soda to Sam then to me before he stands up, shoving the last of the food he is eating into his mouth.

"So?" he asked us, still chewing on his food. "So, the professor doesn't know crap." Sam informed and Dean hums. "Shocking." He said. "Pack your panties, you two, we're hitting the road." Dean said.

"What?" asked Sam, confused.

"What's up?" I asked. "That was Bobby. Some banker guy blew his head off in Ohio and he thinks there's a spirit involved." Dean replied. "So you two were talking a case?" Sam asked him. "No, we were actually talking about our feelings. And then our favourite boy bands." Dean said, sarcastically, which made me snort a bit.

"Yeah, we were talking a case!" Dean yells, annoyed. "So a spirit, what?" I asked him. "Yeah, the banker was talking about some sort of electrical problems at his pad for like a week. Phone was going haywire, computer was flipping on and off." Dean replied.

"Huh..." Sam said, unimpressed. "This is not ringing your bell?" Dean asked him. "Well, sure, yeah. But, Dean, we're already on a case." Sam said. "Whose?" Dean asked. "Yours." Sam and I said. "Right. Yeah. Well, you coulda fooled me." Dean grumbles.

"What the hell else have we been doing lately other than trying to break your deal?" Sam asked him, angry and annoyed. "Chasing our tails, that's what. Sam, we've talked to every professor, witch, soothsayer and two bit carny act in the lower 48. Nobody knows squat! And we can't find Bela, we can't find the Colt. So until we actually find something, I'd like to do my job." Dean exclaims.

"Well there's one thing we haven't tried yet..." Sam said and Dean shakes his head once we realized what he was hinting at. "Sam, no." Dean said. "We should summon Ruby." said Sam. "I'm not gunna have this fight with you." Dean grumbles. "She said she knows how to save you." Sam said, hopeful. "Well, she can't." Dean said.

"Oh really, you know that for sure?" Sam asked. "I do. And so does (y/n)." Dean said. "How?" Sam asked, suspicious. "Because she told us!" I said and Sam looks at me.

"What?" he said, shocked. "She told us. Flat out. She can't save me, nobody can." Dean said. "And you guys just somehow neglected to mention this to me?" Sam said, hurt. "Well, I really don't care what that bitch thinks and neither should you, so..." Dean said to him.

"So what, now you guys are keeping secrets from me?" Sam asked and I turned to him. "You really wanna talk about who's keeping secrets from who?" I sneered at him. I was still hurt that he didn't tell me that this Lilith was not only after him but me as well. We stare at each other in silence for a long moment. Sam turns away and starts to walk off. 

"Now where you going?" Dean asked him. "Guess I'm going to Ohio." Sam exclaimed and the three of us began to walk

"I found him there." Mrs Waters tells us as the boys and I, the three of us dressed in suits, follow her into the study area. "Why don't you tell us everything you saw, Mrs Waters." Dean says to her. "You mean beside my dead husband?" She asked, slightly offended. "Just everything else you saw. Please." Sam said and she sighs.

"Blood. Everywhere. The phone was ripped from the wall, his favourite scotch on the desk, what else could you possibly want to know?" she said, upset. "Why was the phone ripped from the wall?" I asked her. "I don't know." She said.

"You mind if I take a look?" I asked her. She waves her hand, vaguely, and I go over to the phone. "I already went over this with the other Detectives." said Mrs Waters. "We'll be out of your hair in no time, ma'am." Dean assures her as I push some of the buttons on the phone. Until I got to an odd number with the time of when it called.

"Ma'am, what time did your husband die?" I asked her. "Sometime after 11." She replied and I wait until Dean and Sam look at me, and I tap the phone display. "What about strange phone calls? Receive any of those lately, weird interference, static, anything like that?" Sam asked her. 

"No." she said, defensively, and the boys raise their eyebrows at her. "No!" She shouts again. "Mrs Waters, withholding information from the police is a capital offence." Dean said, firmly, but then Sam noisily clears his throat. Dean glances at him and receives a glare from Sam. In some parts of the world I'm sure." He mutters and Mrs Waters sighs again.

"A couple of weeks ago, uh...there was this..." she stops and looks between us. "This what?" Dean asked her. "I woke up one morning, I heard Ben in his study. I thought he was talking to a woman." She replied.

"What made you think that?" I asked her.  Because he kept calling her Linda. The thing is, I picked up the other line and nobody was there, Ben was talking to nobody." She said. "There was nothing?" Sam asked. "Just static." She said, plainly.

"Did you ever speak to Ben about this phone call?" Sam asked. "No. I should have but...no." she said. "Did he ever say who Linda was?" I asked but then she shouts, upset. "What difference does it make, there was nobody on the other end!"

"Linda's a babe. Or, was." Dean said as he looks through the laptop while Sam and I were sitting on the bed. "Hey!" I said. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I call 'em as I see them." He said, smirking. "Uh-huh, I'll keep that in mind." I said.

"Anyway, did you find her?" Sam asked, changing the subject, as we stand up and walk over to Dean. "Yeah, Linda Bateman. She and Ben Waters were high school sweethearts." He said.

"So what happened?" I asked. "Drunk driver hit them head on. Ben walked away." replied Dean. "So, what then? Dead flame calls to chat?" Sam asked. "You would think, but Linda was cremated. So why's she still floating around?" Dean asked. "You got me." I said as Sam shrugs.

"What about that, uh, caller I.D?" Dean asked. "Turns out, it's a phone number." Sam said and I look at him. "No phone number I've ever seen." I said. "Yeah, 'cause it's about a century old, back from when phones had cranks." Sam replied.

"So why use that number to reach out and touch someone?" Dean asked. "Got me there too, but we should put a trace on it." Sam said. "Well how the hell are we going to put a trace on something that's over 100 years old?" I asked him.

"We don't get many folks from HQ down here." The guy said as we follow him down the stairs and along the hallway. "Yes, well the main office mentioned that there would be a lunch." Dean said and I elbow him in his side.

"Well I'm sure we can arrange something. The man you wanna be speaking to is right this..." the man said as Sam swipes at a fly that has flown into his hair. "I know, sorry. We've got something of a hygiene issue down here if you ask me." The man said and we enter a basement office.

"Stewie? What did I tell you about keeping this place clean." the man said as Stewie sits at a large console with multiple screens and keyboards, various packets and junk food are strewn about. Stewie jumps at their entrance and desperately tries to close down the multiple screens in front of him showing advertisements for porn sites.

"Spam mail...spam mail..." Stewie said as he clicks quickly. "Stewie Myers. Mr Campbell. Mr Raimi. Ms. Maguire." The man introduced us as Stewie continues clicking. "I don't know how all this got here..." he said as the man reaches out and flicks the back of Stewie's head, making him jump again and grunt.

"From headquarters?" He said and Stewie spins around in his chair, then quickly crosses his legs and places his hands together on his lap. "Give these gentlemen whatever they need." He tells Stewie. "Yeah." Stewie said. "Thank you." The boys and I said and the Man leaves.

"So...can I help you?" Stewie asked and Dean checks to make sure the Man is gone, then gestures toward the screen. "Is that, ahhh, BustyAsianBeauties.com?" Dean asked, smirking, and I roll my eyes. "No." Stewie said, quickly, when a female voice from the computer said. "Oh, me so horny."

Then Stewie quickly clicks that ad away. "Maybe." Stewie said. "A word to the wise? Platinum membership? Worth every penny. Ha?" Dean said as he nods, knowingly. I sigh with exasperation and shake my head.

"Right, anyway. We're here to trace a number?" Sam said as he hands Stewie a piece of paper. "Where did you get this?" Stewie asked. "Off caller I.D." I replied. "Oh no, that's impossible." Stewie said. "It hasn't been used in a few years, we know." said Dean. "A few years? It's prehistoric. Trust me, nobody is using this number anymore." Stewie exclaims.

"Sure. Could you run it anyway?" Sam asked him, nicely. "Sure. Why don't I just rearrange my whole life first." Stewie said, snarkily. The boys and I glance at each other and Dean smiles before he leans in closer to Stewie. "Listen, uh, Stewie. You got like six kinds of employee code violations down here, not to mention the sickening porn that is clogging up your hard drive. Now when my partner says run the number, I suggest you run the number!" Dean threatens.

He looks between us then turns back to his console. Dean grins and Sam shrugs and I smile back. "Okay, whatever, jeez!" Stewie said and he clicks a few more buttons. One of his screens fills with a long list of numbers. "Holy crap." He said, shocked. "What?" I asked. "I can't tell you where the number comes from, but I can tell you where it's been going." Stewie said.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked as Stewie pushes print, goes to the printer and hands some paper to Sam. "Ten different number in the past few weeks, all got calls from the same number." Stewie said and he looks between us as we stare at each other, then Stewie sighs and walks between us and back to his console. He sits and stares at it for a moment, then looks back.

"So, are we done here? Cause I was...sort of...busy?" he said and I smirked. "Right..." I said and we began to leave.

Sam and I get out of a rental car then he makes his way to one house and I  make my way up a footpath. I knock on the door and it is opened by a middle-aged man. His son comes to stand beside him, around 6-7 yrs old. "Yeah?" the man asked. "Hello sir, I am with the phone company?" I said. "We didn't call the phone company." The man said.

"Oh no sir, we're calling you. We've had a lot of complaints from the neighbourhood lately." I said. "Complaints?" the man asked. "Yes sir. Dropped calls, static, maybe even strange voices on the other end of the line?" I asked just as I noticed a teenage girl stepping into the hallway, looking startled.

"No, we haven't had any of that here." the man said. "Nothing?" I asked. "No." he said. "Okay. Great, just thought we'd check. Thanks." I said, smiling. "No problem." the man said then he turns to his son. "Come on, Simon." He said as they turn to close the door I see the girl staring at me, looking scared, but she turns away as the door closes.

I return to the car just as Sam comes back. "You got anything?" He asked me. "No. You?" I said. "Nothing." Sam said. "No way you guys work for the phone company." a voice said and I turn around to see it was that teenage girl.

"Sure we do." I said. "Since when do the phone people drive a rental or wear a cheap suit?" She asked me and I huff a laugh. "Yeah, well. Maybe we're both keeping secrets." I said as I fold my arms across my chest.

"Why did you ask my Dad if he's hearing strange voices on the phone?" she asked me. "Why, did you hear something?" Sam asked as he goes to stand next to me. "No." She said. "My mistake, I thought maybe you did." Sam said. "Well I didn't, okay?" She said, defensively. "Okay. Sorry to bother you." I said and we turn away and head to the car.

Sam looks down at his keys then said. "Because you know...if you did...then I would have told you that we've been right where you're standing right now. Hearing things, even seeing things that can't be explained. Maybe we would have been able to help out a little bit. Anyway..." Sam said and we start to load up in the car.

"Hey wait." The girl said, stopping us, and we turn to her. "Maybe...maybe I've been talking on the phone...with my Mom." She replied. "Well that's not so strange." I said. "She's dead. Like three years now." She replied and I furrow my brow at this.

"How often does she call you?" I asked her. "A few times. It started a week ago. I thought I was like, crazy or something." she said. "Well we can tell you one thing for sure, and you're going to have to go with us on this, okay? You're not crazy..." I assured her and she gives a look.

Later, Sam was driving the car when my phone rings. I answered it then pushed the speaker button. "Yeah." I said. "Guys, stiffs have been calling people all over town." Dean said. "Yeah, tell us about it." I said, exhausted. "I just talked to an 84 year old grandmother who's having phone sex with her husband, who died in Korea!" Dean said.

"Eww." Sam and I said, disgusted. "It redefined my understanding of the word Necrophilia." Dean said. "So what the hell's going on here, Dean?" Sam asked. "Beats me, but we'd better find out soon. This place is turning into spook central." Dean said. "Yeah. All right, I'll call you later." I tell him. "Yeah." Dean said before I hang up.

"Dad? You really think it was Dad?" Sam asked, confused. We were back at the motel and Sam and I were sitting at the table while Dean was pacing. He just told us that after our talk, he got a call...a call from John. "I don't know, maybe." Dean said.

"Well what did he sound like?" Sam asked. "Like Oprah!" Dean shouts, sarcastically. "Like Dad, he sounded like Dad, what do you think?" He growls. "Okay, Dean, calm down. What did he say?" I asked. "My name." Dean replied, sounding a bit calmer.

"That's it?" I asked him. "Call dropped out." Dean replied. "Why would he even call in the first place, Dean?" Sam asked. "I don't know, man. Why are ghosts calling anybody in this town? But I mean, other people are hearing from their loved ones, why can't we? It's at least a possibility, right?" Dean said. "Yeah, I guess?" Sam and I said, unsure.

"Okay, so what if...what if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back?" Dean asked. "What do you mean?" Sam asked. "What do I say?" Dean asked. "Hello." Sam replied. "Hello?" Dean said, disbelief, and Sam shrugs. "That's what you come back with. Hello?" Dean asked, angrily.

"How's the afterlife?" I suggested and Dean gives me a disbelieving look. "Unbelievable." He growls as he grabs his jacket and headed for the door. Dean grumbles under his breath and walks out. Sam and I look after him, concerned, while Sam shakes his head. 

Three hours later, Sam was sitting on the couch with the laptop in front of him and I was sitting at the table, looking through my laptop. Then Dean returns. "Find anything?" He asked us. "After three hours we have found no reason why anything supernatural would be going on here." Sam said and Dean huffs at this. "Well, you know, you think a Stanford education and a high school hook up rate of zero point zero would produce better results than that." Dean sneers.

"Hilarious." Sam spat. "Guys, you're just looking in the wrong places." Dean said. "And what are the right places, Dean?" I asked him and he reaches into his jacket pocket. "Motel pamphlet rack." Dean drops some literature on the coffee table.

"Milan, Ohio. Birthplace of Thomas Edison." Dean said as I walk over to them and read over Sam's shoulder as he flicks through the papers. "Yeah, right. So what?" Sam asked. "Keep reading." Dean said and Sam scoffs slightly and keeps looking. He sighs, but after a few moments of reading,, my eyebrows go up and we look at Dean.

"You're kidding." I said and Dean raises his eyebrows back, smiling. 

"And we're walking." the female tour guide said as she shepherds us into a room in the museum. "And, here we have one of the museum's most unique and treasured possessions. Thomas Edison's spirit phone. Did you know that Mr Edison, as well as being one of America's most beloved inventors, was also a devout occultist? Ooh!" she said, being a bit over dramatic. 

"What's with the quote-y fingers?" Dean whispered to us. "He spent years working on this, his final invention, which he was convinced could be used to communicate with the dead. Pretty spooky, huh?" The guide said then she checks her watch, twirls her fingers in the air and begins leading the group into the next room.

"And we're walking. We are walking. We're walking. And we're not touching that. And we're walking. And stop." she said but Sam, Dean and I stay back with the spirit phone. Sam quickly gets out his EMF and holds it over the spirit phone.

"Anything?" Dean asked. "Nothing." Sam said. "What do you guys think?" Dean asked us. "Honestly? It kinda looks like an old pile of junk to me." Sam replied and I nod in agreement. "It's not even plugged in." Dean said as he looks it over. "Maybe it didn't work like that." I said.

"Okay. Maybe it's like a radio tower, broadcasting the dead all over town." Dean suggests. "Could be." Sam said, shrugging. "You know, this caller I.D. is 100 years old, right? Right around the time this thing was built." Dean said. "Yeah, but why would it all of a sudden start working now?" Sam asked, confused.

"I don't know. But as long as the mouldy are calling the freshers around here it's the best reason we've got." Dean said. "Yeah, maybe." I said, shrugging. "So maybe it really is Dad." Dean said and I give him a concerned look.

The next morning, Sam and I entered the motel room to see Dean typing furiously on the laptop. "What's up?" Dean asked us. "That girl Lanie, her Mom's ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night." I replied. "That sucks." Dean mumbles as he continues to type. "Yeah it does. What are you doing?" Sam asked.  I think Dad's right. I think the demon is here. Check it out." Dean said and he hands us some papers and goes to his bag.

"What is this, weather reports?" Sam asked as I read over him. "Omens. Demonic omens. Electrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks." Dean replied. "Ahh...I don't remember any lightning storms." Sam said. "Yeah, me either." I said. "Well, I don't remember you guys studying meteorology as a kid either. But I'm telling you, that bastard's been tailing me...wearing some poor dude's meat." Dean growls.

"And it's following you because..." I said, skeptical. "I guess I'm big game, you know. My ass is too sweet to let outta sight." he said, smiling a bit. "Okay. Sure." Sam said as I roll my eyes. Then Dean snatches the papers back. "Don't get too excited, guys. Might pull something." he snaps at us.

"Dean, look, Sam and I wanna believe this man, we really do..." I said but then Dean turns to us. "Then believe it! if we get this sucker, it's Miller Time." He yells. "Yeah, that's another thing. Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon? I mean not just send it back to hell, but kill it?" Sam asked, questioning. "I've checked it out. This is heavy duty Dark Ages. Fifteenth century." Dean said.

"Yeah, we've checked on it too, Dean. And so did Bobby." I said. "Okay, and?" Dean said, annoyed. "Look. It definitely is an exorcism, okay, there's just no evidence it can kill a demon." Sam tells him. "No evidence it can't." said Dean.

"Honey, come on..." I said, exasperated. "Hey, as far as I'm aware the only one of us who has actually been to hell is Dad. And maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there, like which exorcisms work." Dean said. "Maybe it does. we hope it does too, but we gotta be sure." Sam said.

"Why aren't we sure?" Dean asked us. "'Cause (y/n) and I don't know what's going on around here, Dean! I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits." Sam exclaims. "Wow, a couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash guys, people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts!" Dean shouts and we stare at each other for a long moment.

Sam sighs and Dean drops his head in frustration. "John tell you where to find the demon?" I asked Dean. "I'm waiting on the call!" Dean shouts as he holds up his phone. "I told Lanie (y/n) and I would stop by." Sam said. "Oh, good yeah. No you go hang out with jail bait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen. Meanwhile I'll be here getting ready to, you know, save my life." Dean said, sarcastically, and Sam and I keep moving toward the door.

"You're unbelievable, you know that? I mean for months we've been trying to break this demon deal. Now Dad's about to give us the freaking address and you can't accept it? The man is dead and you're still butting heads with the guy, Sam!" Dean shouts and we turn to him. "That is not what this is about." Sam said, firmly. 

"So what is it!?" Dean asked, angrily. "The fact is we've got no hard proof here, Dean. After everything, you're still just going on blind faith!" Sam shouts. "Yeah, well maybe! You know, maybe that's all I got, okay?" Dean shouts and we stare at each other again before Dean looks down.

I sigh then walk up to Dean then placed my hand on his cheek. He raises his head and I look into his green eyes. "Please. Just please, don't go anywhere until we get back. Okay, Dean? Please." I begged. Dean remains silent and I give him a sad look before I lean up and kiss his cheek. I give him one last look before I turn around and head out the door with Sam.

"Have you told your father about any of this?" I asked Lanie as we stand in her room. "And bother him at work? No. He wouldn't believe me anyway, he'd just chuck me into therapy." She replied.

"So what did your mother say?" Sam asked her. "She wanted to see me. So at first I thought I was supposed to go to the cemetery." said Lanie. "Did you?" I asked and she nods. "Nothing happened. But then she started asking me to do other things." she replied.

"What sort of things?" Sam asked her. "Bad things." She said and I could tell she was uncomfortable. "Lanie please. Tell us what happened, it's very important." I said to her, soothingly. "Mom told me to go to Dad's medicine cabinet." She said then she bites her lips. "And?" Sam and I asked, encouragingly. "She wanted me to take his sleeping pills, take all of his sleeping pills." She cried.

"She wanted you to kill yourself?" Sam asked her and she nods then cries. "Why would my Mom want me to do that?" She asked us, tearfully. "Don't know." Sam and I said. "I mean, just so I could come to her?" She cries and I freeze at this then look over at her.

"What'd you say?" I asked her. "She wanted me to come to her." Lanie said. "No, how'd she say it?" I asked her. "Come to me. Like a million times." She said then Sam and I share a look and I could tell he got to the same conclusion as I did. "Lanie." I said to her as I turn to look at her. "That's not your mother." 

"Listen to us. Don't answer the phone. Don't use the computer. Don't do anything unless (y/n) and I say so, all right?" Sam said as we walk down the hall. Sam and I start down the stairs until we realise that Lanie's not following. "Lanie." We said as she stands at the doorway to a room. "Where's Simon?" She asked us, horrified.

Sam and I run out of the house and could see Simon walking off down the street. We chase after him and see him walking across the next road where a large truck barrels toward him. Sam books it as he gets in front of me and the truck horn blares and tires squeal.

Simon throws his hands up to protect himself just as Sam rushes the road, grabs Simon and dives for the verge. They lay panting as the truck roars past and I come up to them. "Holy crap." I sighed then kneel down to them. "You two okay?" I asked and Sam nods while Simon starts to cry.

After we bring Simon back to Lanie, Sam and I get back into the rental car and I call Dean. "Dean, it's not John." I said into my phone. "Then what is it?" Dean asked me. "A crocotta." I replied. "Is that a sandwich?" he asked. "Some kind of scavenger. Mimics loved ones, whispers 'Come to me', then lures you into the dark and swallows your soul." I replied.

"A crocotta, right, damn that makes sense." Dean grumbles, disappointed. "Dean, look, I'm sorry honey, I know..." I started to say but Dean talks over me. "Hey, don't these things live in filth?" he asked. "Yeah." I replied. "(Y/n), the flies at the phone company." Dean said then I look over at Sam with a knowing look.

That night, Sam and I creep along an alley and peaks in a window at Stewie, sitting at his console. That is until we were distracted by a banging noise, we ducked and look around but see nothing.

When we look back, Stewie is leaving the room. We run back up the alley and see Stewie leaving the building. Sam and I hide behind a van as he holds his phone to his ear. He sighs then whispers. "Voicemail."

I roll my eyes as Sam said. "Dean, we're in the parking lot. He's here. Hurry." Sam said and Stewie unlocks his car. Sam rushes him and pushes him into the car, holding a metal spike to the back of his neck while I stand next to Sam. 

"What the hell!" Stewie grunts. "We know what you are." Sam growls. "Wait, mister." Stewie pleads. "And we know how to kill you." I growled. "Please. Okay, wait, wait. If we're overcharging you for the call waiting or something I...I can fix that. I am your friend! Please. Please just don't kill me!" Stewie pleads while Sam and I give confused look towards him.

But that was the last thing I remember before I felt something hit the back of my head and I black out. 

"I'm sorry, Clark. I'm sorry for whatever I did to you. I'm sorry...please..." I hear a voice sniveling as I come to and open my eyes to see Stewie tied up in a chair across from me. I look to my right and see Sam was tied up as well.

I tried to move but realized my hands were tied up. I look back up at Stewie and see that man, Clark I believe Stewie called him, was standing behind him. "Wait! Don't do it." I shout and Clark looks over at me. "You two are awake." He said and I look over and see Sam waking up too.

Clark leans over Stewie and places the tip of a knife against his thigh. "You're not a killer Clark, no! There's a good man inside of you, I know it." Stewie snivelled and Clark looks over at us.

"What do you think, Sam and (y/n), am I a good man?" Clark asked us. "Just let him go." Sam begged. "I would. I really would. If only I'd had more than a salad for lunch. You see, I'm starving." Clark said and he lifts the knife high above his head and plunges it into Stewie's chest.

"No!" Sam and I shout as Clark moves in front of Stewie's body. His mouth opens, revealing a blood red interior and razor sharp spikes. He crouches slightly, holds Stewie by both shoulders and unhinges his jaw, his mouth becoming impossibly wide and his teeth were sharp.

Placing his mouth close to Stewie's face. he sucks in his energy. I shudder and look away until Clark stops and stands, wiping his mouth. "My last call with Dean. That was you. You led us here." I growled as I glare up at him. "Some calls I make, some calls I take, but you have to admit, I had you fooled for a while. All that Edison phone crap." Clark laughs and moves over to the telephone exchange cabinet.

He places his hands against the glass and leans back in ecstasy. "What are you doing?" Sam asked him. Clark smiles then looks over at us. "I'm killing your brother. Or maybe I'm killing another guy. We'll just have to see how it goes." He said.

After a few moments of him calling a guy, Clark walks over to Stewie and pulls the knife out of his chest while I was trying to get out of my restraints. "You know, mimicking Dean's one thing. But their dad. That's a hell of a trick." I sneered at him as I gesture towards Sam with my head. "Well once I made you three as hunters, it was easy. I found Dean's number, then your number, then Sam's number, then both of your father's numbers. Then emails, voicemails, everything. You see, people think that stuff just gets erased, but it doesn't. You'd be surprised how much of yourself is just floating out there, waiting to be plucked." Clark explained.

"Dean's not going to fall for this. He's not going to kill that guy." Sam said. "Then the guy kills him." Clark said then he stands over Sam. "Technology. Makes life so much easier. Used to be I'd hide in the woods for days, weeks, whispering to people, trying to draw them out into the night. But they had community, they all looked out for each other, I'd be lucky to eat one or two souls a year. Now when I'm hungry, I simply make a phone call. You're all so connected. But you've never been so alone." He sneers.

He opens his mouth and begins to unhinge his jaw while raising his knife. But I erupt out of my chair and Clark and I fall to the ground, making him lose the knife. "(y/n)!" Sam shouts as Clark and I struggle for the knife.

I was rising up first but Clark grabs my jacket and swings me around into a metal grate. Clark picks up the knife, running at me, until Sam gets free and grabs him.

They struggle for the knife then I jump in to the fight. We exchang blows as we move about the room. Sam finally manages to pull the knife away and hits Clark, forcing him backwards into the wall. A spike, one of many on the corkboard, jams into the back of Clark's neck, killing him. 

"You okay?" Sam asked me after we catch our breath. "Yeah...you?" I said and he nods.

We make it back to the hotel and see Dean holding a facecloth to his cut eye, groaning. "I see they improved your face." Dean jokes and Sam and I snigger. "Right back at ya." Sam said and Dean moves past us into the main room then we sit on a bed each, but I sit next to Dean.

"So, crocotta, huh?" Dean said. "Yep." Sam and I said. "That would explain the flies." Dean mutters. "Yeah it would." I said before sighing.

"Hey, um...look I'm sorry it wasn't Dad." Sam said to Dean. "Nah, I gave you guys a hell of a time on this one." Dean huffs. "You guys were right."

"Forget about it." I said, waving my head vaguely. "I can't. I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way outta this. I mean I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I just..." Dean said then he begins to tear up. "I'm scared, guys. I'm really scared." He said which made me and Sam tear up. "I know." We said, in unison.

"I guess I was willing to believe anything. You know, the last act of a desperate man." said Dean. "There's nothing wrong with having hope, Dean." I said as I place a hand on his knee. "Hope doesn't get you jack squat. I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, you know. I mean the only person that can get me out of this thing is me." Dean said. "And us." Sam and I said, earnestly, making Dean look between us.

"And us?" he said, questioning. "What?" Sam said, confused. "Deep revelation, having a real moment here, that's what you two come back with? And us?" Dean said, disappointed. "Uh...do you want a poem?" Sam asked, raising his brow. "The moment's gone." Dean said and I smile slightly while Dean flicks the TV on.

Then he reaches between the beds, grabs three bottles of beer and holds one out to Sam without looking at him. Sam takes one, then Dean hands one to me. We crack them open and drink in unison, while staring at the TV.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @ellie-andthemachine

[carabas]

Dragon Age Veilguard liveblogging -

FADE TRIP WITH SPITE! We live in the Fade and we've gone through so many of Solas's memories, I wasn't expecting to get a dedicated Fade mission on top of that, and yet here we are complete with jokes about turning into a mouse or fighting oversized spiders, awww, thank you Spite!

And there's something really striking about these rays with their bright electric blue glow here in Lucanis's mental prison where all the colors are usually muted, that Lucanis's mind included them.

Spite at the first lock, when Rook's surprised there's no one waiting there to confront them: "Of course not. Rook can't be here. You open doors. You don't close them." i'm fine this is fine give me a minute

Zara's disembodied voice: "Envy is the rarest of all demons. And the most challenging to cultivate. The conditions must be perfect." ...Envy? Was she aiming for Envy when she got Spite? There is a very obvious Dellamorte candidate for Envy and it's not the one she locked up.

Lucanis may see Rook as the one who opens his prison door, but he's casting the other companions as guards keeping their eyes on the prisoner, and he's given us these reasonable justifications about why he prefers to sleep in the tiny windowless extremely-prison-cell-like pantry really, and this whole time he has been mentally carrying his prison with him, can we please get this man a window now. A mattress maybe. ...I was about to suggest he move in with Rook like a DA2 romance but actually I'm not sure an underwater view would be much of an improvement here.

It took seventy-three hours of playing for Rook to start this romance and then only three hours to commit to it, what is this pacing.

Lucanis makes tarta de limon to pair with Rook's favorite tea, and this unlocks a codex entry recipe for... a Nevarran hazelnut torte? Which sounds pretty good actually, with the apricot. Is that what he would have made in this scene if Rook liked coffee instead of tea? But I kind of love that Lucanis is getting Nevarran recipes from Emmrich now - and I'm assuming this codex entry is the same no matter which faction your Rook is from and it's just a coincidence that Rook happens to be Nevarran, but it's a nice coincidence. Also the banter where Lucanis agrees to try a wine Emmrich recommended "just to see what the Watchers keep in their cellars." Things that were not actually intended to be romance lines for Mourn Watch Rook specifically, but they work out nice that way - Lucanis hates the necropolis Rook grew up in so very, very much, but he wants to learn the tastes Rook grew up with.

EMMRICH'S GOING TO BECOME A LICH? IS IT TOO LATE TO RETHINK ROOK'S LOVE INTEREST i'm joking, i'm mostly joking, I am very happy with Rook/Lucanis and also with the nice relaxing friendship between two necromancers venturing outside their necropolis. Romanceable lich though.

It is very funny how clearly you can hear the difference in tone between the specifically Mourn Watch Rook lines which are just sincerely, wholeheartedly happy for Emmrich and his future lichdom, good job getting tenure congrats, and then it gets to a line recorded for Rooks in general and suddenly he has concerns.

Oh, man, Harding confronting the Titans' anger. When Harding says You took everything from us, and you thought you won, and she's looking directly at an elven Rook. We will thrive in spite of you, and the embodiment of Spite is right there beside her, and just moments earlier had been assuring her he won't tell anyone about how afraid she is.

I was surprised earlier that our spirit companion for this game was Spite and not Regret, since regret seemed like the big theme of the game, but I can see it now.

"Why would you want to outlast everything you love?" Lucanis asks, talking about Emmrich's lichdom, but while standing directly in front of Solas and Mythal. "It sounds like a terrible fate."

Gratuitous picture of my Rook because this lighting is really bringing out the dark circles under their eyes

Everyone in this Lighthouse needs to get some sleep.

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Bachelor/Clavell/Wan (?)

One day, early in the evening. We're with the Bachelors, well, what's left of the family. To everyone's regret, the family is no longer complete. The parents of the two children died in the disaster. Now Xander is looking after them. He has also lost his parents and so they have joined forces in order to survive.

"uh, oh man, I'm so hungry"/ "Uncle Xander will hopefully be back soon"/ "yes, hopefully ".

While waiting for dinner at home, Michael and Xander are on the lookout for all kinds of edible things to bring home. "Man, sometimes I get the feeling that the others have already snapped up all the stuff"/ "by no means everything, check the garbage can to see if you can find anything useful there"…. Of course it's an unpleasant thing to rummage around in a garbage can for useful things, but what don't you do to improve your standard of living a bit?

A few minutes later. "Why didn't you tell me straight away that something edible was growing behind the house?"/ "I'm sorry. Look, The lettuce has grown so beautifully. I believe that the spirit of Mama lives in every single plant. She gives us food and looks after us"/ "Yes, that's how it will be… And again, it's just a salad today… Oh, what I would give for a delicious sausage"

A little later. "Did you get anything?"/ "Heads of lettuce, lots of them". Pauline wrinkled her nose and threw her head back in annoyance. "oh man, I'm getting sick of all this green stuff"/ "well, maybe something can be done, I saw the boss bringing a few boxes to the back of the warehouse today, it looked like canned food"/ "W-what?". Her eyes widened.

"Yeah, I don't know where he got the stuff, but I'll find out"/ "yes, please, if they withhold anything from us, I'll get really angry. I'll make us something to eat now… Wow, salad… at least there are still a few onions and tomatoes growing in the garden". Pauline stood annoyed at the kitchen counter and prepared the food.

"Are you otherwise well?"/ "Sure, since i'm with you, hn". Pauline is leading a double life at the moment. And that's why she's not always honest. She not only shares a bed with Xander, but also with Hank, with whom the relationship is nevertheless difficult. The official story is that they have broken up. But Pauline has a mind of her own. "Hank and I … That probably wouldn't have worked out in the long run and besides, I really wanted to know who the guy was that he was always talking about when he came home from work …"/ "You've got a thing for bad boys?"/ "hnhn, not really, but you're … Just different, and I like that.".

Bella comes back into the house. "Where have you been?"/ "I just had to pee"/ "Let me know next time, okay? I don't want you to be out alone in the dark"/ "but I don't want anyone watching"/ "nobody's done that before, we've always stood in front of the fence"/ "but you can hear the peeing noise"/ "Oh nonsense, come on, Pauline's made salad"

"Salad… Always just salad. Can't we bake a cake again?"/ "We need eggs for that, and they're a bit scarce at the moment because we don't have enough chickens"/ "Then you'll have to get a rooster to make the chicks"/ "Oh, you know that?"/ "Of course, that's what… Mom told me".

Michael had to smile a little. "Yes, Mom knew a lot…". It's often a difficult situation for Xander when the children talk about their parents. Because it's not just them who have lost their parents, he has too. Until now, there has never been a proper funeral or memorial service for the deceased. Everyone had to deal with the new situation from one day to the next. But some of the residents want to take care of the cemetery soon.

"And please take care of this 'matter' tomorrow, okay? I really want to know what's going on…"/ "Don't worry, I'll find out what the Altos are up to. "/ "They lead a much better life than some of the others here. They have running water, electricity. They should finally support us. I bet they have some kind of contact with the outside world"/ "mhm, for sure".

Since Pauline has been living in the house, the atmosphere here has changed. So far, they've managed quite well without another roommate. And of course Michael also understands that you need someone to talk to… But at the moment it's probably just about exchanging bodily fluids. No one will ever be able to properly replace the parents of the two children. But they are being looked after.

The kids go to bed. "hey, this is actually my bed"/ "but it's much cooler than mine, you built it all by yourself, mine is old"/ "but it's still in good shape…fine, then I'll be the princess tonight"/ "thihi… Which book did you get from the shelf?"/ "You'll notice in a minute".

While Michael reads his sister a bedtime story, the adults next door are busy with other things. "Have you taken the pill?"/ "That's the last pack I could get, after that we should be really careful"/ "Why, don't you want children?"/ "Under the current circumstances? No…".

While Michael reads his sister a bedtime story, the adults next door are busy with other things. "Have you taken the pill?"/ "That's the last pack I could get, after that we should be really careful"/ "Why, don't you want children?"/ "Under the current circumstances? No…".

"well, if need be, I can pull 'him' out early"/ "chuckle, but that doesn't always help"/ "I'd say we just take our chances… I'll take care of it, bunny".

Less than 20 minutes later. "Sleep well, sis… At some point… Hopefully everything will be a bit more normal again. My friends are all madly in love… great, and I'll probably stay a virgin until I'm 30…". It's not easy for Michael to put up with the other couples' affections. Everyone here has their own individual needs.

End of this part

--------------------------------------------------------------

@greenplumbboblover 😊 , Thanks for tagging me, by the way. Unfortunately, I find it infinitely difficult to pick out a sim and write facts about it. I like them all very much.^^ But if I do come up with something about someone at some point, I'll let you and others know😊

Note: I know some parts are quite long and contain a lot of text, but they can't be split up any other way and I like to write a lot 😉

[aeoki]

Candy House - Electric Utopia: Chapter 4

Characters: Sora, Natsume & Tsumugi Season: Spring

Tsumugi: Hmm… A company that names itself after a monster sounds pretty scary. What should we do if they turn out to be some sort of anti-social organisation?

Sora: Sora thinks it’ll be fine~

Senpai, you don’t know much about video games so you might not know, but…

“Gorgon Corporation”, in other words, “GC”, is a fairly well-known major game company.

Natsume: That’s their official abbreviation but I don’t really know anyone who calls them “GC”, thouGH. Don’t other video game fans call them “Gor-coRP”? I know I dO.

Sora: They do~♪

They’re the company that mass produces unique puzzle-solving games that use exceptional and complex technology, and their games share an incomprehensible world and story. In other words, we like to call them “our Gor-Corp”! HaHiHuHeHo~♪

Tsumugi: I think I’ve seen that phrase trending on social media before. Oh, so you two were talking about video games.

I thought you were talking about a well-known artist’s imposter.

Sora: That’s Van Gogh~

Anyway, this is amazing! Is it true that “Gor-Corp” wants to form a business partnership with our agency? Is it really them?

Tsumugi: I’m wondering that as well. They seemed rather fishy to me, so I’m asking this “Gorgon Corporation” some questions at the moment…

If it’s just a swindler pretending to be a well-known company, then we should be able to find out if they’re the real thing or not.

Natsume: You mistook Gorgon for Gogh, so I’m surprised you managed to do thAT.

Tsumugi: I just copied and pasted the sentence in the email word for word…

I couldn’t tell what sort of company they were based on their website alone, but now I understand. So they were a video game company.

Sora: Oh~ Their homepage is a bit weird since they’re promoting their latest release right now~

Natsume: It’s supposed to represent the “Is The Company Sane?” phrase, so their website and social media accounts are always oDD.

They’re promoting their new horror game right now, aren’t thEY?

It’s a puzzle-solving game where you end up getting corroded the more you talk to the evil spirits, and you switch places with them in the eND.

Sora: They’re not really evil spirits, but more like a doppelganger? The fake turns into the real person at some point in the story and they take over the original’s life?

It’s a typical “Gor-Corp” video game.

Apparently, it generates a “fake that’s just like the original” based on your social media and browsing history.

That fake then takes over your social media accounts, as if they’ve really turned into the real you.

I wonder how that’s possible with data protection and privacy.

Natsume: HmM~ It’s pretty ambiguous since the video game hasn’t been released yET. “Gor-Corp” has a history of doing illegal things that were enough to file lawsuiTS.

Sora: They’re one of Sora’s favourite game companies, so Sora hopes nothing bad will happen in real life… and the new release won’t be cancelled.

Natsume: I always appreciate their bold style, thouGH.

Tsumugi: Well, since the game has something to do with social media, it sounds fairly modern to me.

Maybe it’s because the idea of having your fake take over your life is one of humanity’s primitive fears, but there are a lot of movies and novels on that topic.

That’s what a real doppelganger would be like.

Natsume: Yeah, there’s a movie I’ve watched that talks about racial issues in a modernistic mannER.

It’s the sort of movie where, at a glance, it looks like an enjoyable comedy flick, but it can get pretty scary when you start thinking deeply about iT.

Sora: The type of story that’s scary when you realise its true meaning, right~?

Tsumugi: Yeah, I think I��ve seen the same one. The director originally came from a comedy background and…

…Oh, it looks like we've received a reply from “Gorgon Corporation” while we were chatting.

Sora: Isn’t that a mouthful to say? Just call them “Gor-Corp”~

Tsumugi: That sounds like I’m looking down on them, so I’d rather not. It feels more like a derogatory term as opposed to a name of endearment.

Sora: Sora supposes it's like playful teasing with love involved? It’s the same as Master~ calling you “Moppy Four-Eyes”, Senpai~♪

Natsume: I’m not calling him that out of love, thouGH.

Tsumugi: …Sorry, could you two be quiet? The company gave us their reply but, hmm, what does this mean?

They also appear to be confused. After I double-checked with them, it seems the business partnership and funding is definitely happening…

But apparently, “Gorgon Corporation” had only checked the details just now.

Sora: ? So what does that mean?

Tsumugi: I’m not sure… Perhaps the higher-ups of the company took it upon themselves to give the partnership the green light?

It looks like they’re investigating the matter right now.

It seems a representative from the company will be coming to our office to give us an explanation.

Natsume: It’s getting more and more suspicious by the minuTE… Hmm, what’s going oN?

Sora: Looks like “Gor-Corp” doesn’t know what’s going on, either~ And we’re in the same boat.

…Hm?

Tsumugi: ? What’s wrong, Sora-kun? Were you able to “see” something?

Sora: No… Sora just got a call from a friend.

It’s the friend Sora was telling Master~ about on the way here.

Natsume: Oh, the one you didn’t get to see for a long time, rigHT?

Sora: Hello? What is it? Sora’s working right now…

Hm? Yeah, we were just talking about “Gor-Corp”~ How’d you know?

Hmm, clairvoyance? What’s that? Sora has probably heard that word before somewhere…

HiHi~♪ You’re the same as Sora, Ecchan – you know lots of things that aren’t needed for survival.

Tsumugi: Ecchan? Wait, is that Eichi-kun? If I remember correctly, I think that’s what Ritsu-kun calls Eichi-kun…

Natsume: Why would you mention hIM? Because money’s involvED?

Sora: Yeah. Okay… Sora doesn’t really get it, but alright.

………?

Natsume: What did your friend sAY?

Sora: Well… Sora doesn’t understand either, but…

The representative from the game company that’s coming to the office is a monster that wears human skin…

Sora’s friend said she’s a witch that has an evil eye, so we shouldn’t believe the things she says.

Tsumugi: ? What? Are you talking about video games again?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ��� ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[tobiasdrake]

Finally, we're off to sea. If that's what you call this.

You know, this just occurred to me. If Patches has to keep his eyes shut to use his magic, how do we navigate? Like. Is it someone's job to rotate him? Take him by the shoulders and turn him left or right?

In any case, at least we're on our-- Hey, where the hell is Teaks? Did she miss the boat or fall overboard? Or was she the only one of us with enough good sense to go, "Hahaha nope, I'll wait for the next one."

I'd heard that no one ever returns but I'd just assumed the Dweller of Woe was eating them or something. Are they. Like. Community building instead? That'd be weird.

Kind of, then. It's like a psychic ranch. She keeps people as livestock and occasionally takes them out to slaughter.

Oh shit yes. Can we board it now? Trade in this dinghy for the spoils of our conquest? TELL ME we can do this side quest!

Aww, I wanted it to be ours now. But okay. Fine. We can do my thing first. Pout.

Hold up, how can the night be everlasting if we're expecting an eclipse? Night isn't what happens when the moon is present; It's what happens when the sun is absent. The moon has no authority over the night and day cycle, and is in fact frequently in the sky during day.

You cannot have an eclipse without a sun in the sky. The sky doesn't work that way.

Is the eclipse going to, like, magically pierce it somehow? Because, again, you can't have an eclipse during perpetual night.

Well, I guess if it's a lunar eclipse, you can. Those are pretty common.

You know, I kinda expected you guys to pull up close and make us swim the rest of the way while you hightailed it away from Psychic Cattle Farm Island. Surprised you were willing to stick your necks out like this.

Means a lot to me. I will try not to let you get eaten by the Dweller.

T_T I'm sorry I made fun of your stupid raft. This is really touching and now I want to be besties forever.

Guess we should set up camp and figure out--

TEAKS!

She did wait for the next boat. Or she swam. One or the other.

It's great to have you with us, Teaks. I'm sorry if you end up doomed forever because of it.

There are illusionary treasure chests hiding ghost ambushes. I hate this--

Oh. Pardon me. These are woodland spirits. Illusionary treasure chests hiding gaea's vengeance. The metaphysical consciousnesses that guide the natural order of our world want me dead for some reason. Can't imagine wh--

...okay, so perhaps I have not always been the most reverent of Solstice Warriors. We may have gotten off on the wrong foot. But. It doesn't have to be that way. I believe that, with maturity and grace, we can learn to understand each other and-- RANDOM BULLSHIT GO.

HAHAHA GOT 'EM. Test me, fuck-os.

You know, this is a nice little town the cattlefolk have made for themselves. We've got electric lighting. Nice homes. You almost don't even notice the gloom.

There's even transparent ghost people wandering near their graves! That's great. It means when the Dweller eats once of your loved ones, they come right back to you lickity-split.

You know, I was wondering. I figured there was some sort of low-level psychic barrier that just convinces everyone to stay, but no. It's threat of force. Everyone lives here in uncertainty wondering when the Dweller will summon them to be devoured, but if you try to leave then you're summoned immediately.

Denial? Your bar is denial? That's pretty clever, honestly. Points for that.

GARL NO

Do not give these people hope. They have no ability to influence what's about to happen in any way. If we win then they'll be free to go whether they knew it was coming or not, but if we lose then they'll be crushed by false promises. Hype is an insidious monster that strangles reality in its bed.

Let's just kill what we came to kill, and then we can start talking about it. It isn't news until it actually happens.

There's something about this place. Like. A commentary on the way we use escapism to distract from the hopelessness of living in a world that seems to be getting worse by the day. People meeting at The First Stage of Grief to share fictions of what they want their lives to be like, it resonates with our moment in time.

This place is really interesting.

Hold up, the squiddy on the end of Patches's staff is alive? I honestly thought that was a woodcarving.

Yeah, I have nothing to add to that. This place is a sobering reminder that action and glory are meant for something. In all seriousness, the end-goal shouldn't be the enrichment of the self, but of society.

An organization that claims ownership of violence for "the greater good" must always be cognizant that what they are doing is for the betterment of people's lives. Not of "society" as a whole even, but specifically, "Is the service I'm providing making people happier?"

[plantamilliontrees]

Celebrate Festivals Differently: The Eco-Friendly Way to Give Back

Festivals Are About Joy—But What If They Could Also Heal the Planet?

Lights, colors, music, sweets—festivals are the heartbeat of culture. They bring families together, honor traditions, and fill our hearts with celebration.

But in today’s world, where pollution and climate anxiety loom large, we’re asking: What if your next celebration could be just as joyful—and also meaningful for the planet?

Why Eco-Friendly Festivals Matter

From excessive plastic use to food waste and noise pollution, traditional festivals often leave behind more than just memories.

But what if we flipped the script?

Imagine:

Gifting trees instead of crackers

Lighting earthen lamps instead of electric overload

Using natural colors instead of chemical ones

Planting trees as part of the ritual itself

Celebrating festivals the eco-friendly way means celebrating life, future generations, and Mother Earth.

Planting Trees During Festivals: A New Tradition

Instead of simply celebrating for a day, plant a tree and make your joy last for decades.

Some ideas:

Diwali: Light up lives by planting a tree of hope

Holi: Celebrate colors with a green initiative

Eid: Plant a fruit tree to nourish communities

Christmas: Gift a sapling with your presents

Raksha Bandhan: Tie a rakhi to a tree you vow to protect

Ganesh Chaturthi: Immerse an eco-friendly idol near your planted tree

This isn’t just a gesture—it’s a powerful green legacy.

Emotional Rewards of Eco-Festivals

“This Diwali, instead of bursting crackers, we planted 5 trees as a family. My kids still talk about it. It was the most peaceful and fulfilling festival we've ever had.” — Neha Rajput, Mumbai

“I gifted a plant to every guest at our Holi gathering. It turned into a beautiful annual tradition.” — Adarsh & Aanya, Delhi

These aren’t just eco-choices. They’re emotional memories with meaning.

How to Make Your Festival Eco-Friendly

Swap disposables for reusables – cloth bags, steel plates, glass diyas

Support local artisans – handmade, sustainable decor and gifts

Offset with planting – plant one tree for every guest, every sweet box, or every celebration

Educate and inspire – make it a movement, not a moment

Gift green – saplings, seed bombs, grow kits, eco-certificates

One Act. Lasting Impact.

In the spirit of the festival, you give happiness. With an eco-friendly celebration, you give it forward—to nature, to future generations, and to your own soul.

Because joy that heals is joy that lasts.

Celebrate Differently. Celebrate Green.

The next time a festival is around the corner, ask yourself: “What can I do that leaves behind joy—not waste?”

Start a new tradition. Celebrate the festival. Plant the future.

[wilbycoles]

March 15

So much of the time, we try to "exercise" our faith to get the solution to a looming financial problem or a lingering physical ailment.

We claim God's healing power and we raise our hands and our voices, then we pause and open one eye to see if we need to pray louder or longer.

Don't laugh -- we've all done it. God understands it. We are growing and learning a step at a time.

God does bless that way when we are new in our walk. In those times, we don't have years of experience with the Father to draw on, times of just resting in the knowledge of His love, moments of experiencing the sweetness of His presence.

The Lord will "do" for us until we can tune our hearts to His and let Him "be" all we need.

Physical healing is the bread of the children. It is important for growth in our spiritual life, and vital for strength in our spiritual walk.

Fiscal blessing is part of God's promise and a very real part of our inheritance in God's family. But these manifestations of God's power are elements of the material world, which is temporary at best.

Physical healing will not prevent physical death, but who will turn down a few more years with loved ones?

Being blessed with an income providing the financial resources to get out from under endless medical bills and repair bills on top of the usual costs for food and housing and clothing and transportation will cause us to give thanks and blessing to God and give testimony before others to His goodness and power.

Then there are those we read about in Scriptures who did not receive those material and temporal blessings of health and wealth.

It wasn't because they were weak in the faith; does anyone feel that Paul, with the "thorn in his flesh", imprisoned for the last years of his life, at times abandoned by his friends in the ministry, was lacking in faith?

We can go back to many of the prophets.

At one time or another, I'm sure each of us has wondered what it would be like to walk so close to God that He spoke to us with words that foretold the future, gave us visions that defy descriptions.

To actually see and be touched by angels flying about doing the direct bidding of God, seated on the throne, would be awesome, but it did not prevent Ezekiel from going into captivity.

Neither did it keep Jeremiah from being on short rations in Jerusalem while under siege and thrown into a mud-filled cistern when the water supply was running low.

Faith is the evidence of things not seen. Without faith, we cannot please God.

God is spirit, and He inhabits eternity. His true miracles are the changes He works in our lives.

To be born of the spirit, to be given a new heart, to have our minds renewed, these are eternal changes that will not fade away or be lost when circumstances change, and are priceless beyond measure.

To have peace that passes understanding in the midst of turmoil and chaos when others' hearts fail them for fear is to show God's power to a needy world.

If we point to a financial blessing we know is from God, then like Pharaoh's magicians duplicating Moses' signs, some men can show a big bank balance that they obtained by their own means.

If we describe how God healed us or our car or fixed the refrigerator when we laid hands on it and prayed, there are doctors and mechanics and repairmen who can talk about "spontaneous remission" and "electrical contacts" that vibrated back into place.

But like the final plagues that hit Egypt and exceeded the abilities of Pharaoh's wise men, the world cannot produce in its citizens the spiritual riches that we have as children of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Let's exercise our faith in areas of eternity, trusting God to do for us in the world what He wants.

We are here as long as He wants us to be, and He can use us in health and in sickness, in wealth and in want, to reach those who are looking for Him.

Our faith is never so strong as when we trust Him in the midst of the storm.

Father, You offer us more than we have, but it is hard to see until our spiritual eyes are opened and our understanding has developed to receive Your truths.

We pray for the eye-balm of the Spirit which gives us sight to reveal the more precious promises You have waiting.

Let us learn to trust wholly in You for our needs and leave the choosing of the day and hour in Your hands.

[monriatitans]

MonriaTitans

Let’s Play Some $#!7!: Maid Café on Electric Street - Part 4

Come join me for another installment of Let’s Play Some $#!7! | LPS$, where I play games to provide commentary to educate on game development! Provided I don't get too caught up in the game to comment, which, in a sense, is commentary in and of itself. Today, we continued playing Maid Café on Electric Street! This was first introduced to The Weekend Game Show | WGS via Let's Play Some Demos - Part 10! And we've also had:

Part 2

Part 3

With that out the way, on to my opinions:

This stream was the first time I've played the game since the major update, which was released on January 22nd, and it included "new original NPCs inspired from friends of the development team". It was fun pointing them out as they came into the café! As usual, the designs were great! And, having beaten the game already, I couldn't help but grimace when we got to my least favorite part of the game; the Spirit Channeling. Now, I think this is a glitch, represented by the following screenshot taken today:

In order to help a ghost get over her regrets so she could move on, she was channeled into a consensual, temporary possession. In order to do this, five people need to stand and face in a specific direction around the ghost. When I first did this, I would have rage quit had I not remembered the internet existed. My next playthrough, I found this book, imaged above, and I thought it would pop up as a reference during the scene but it didn't. And, because I had found the directions before, I didn't rage quit. Someone had, actually, put them in the Steam Discussion Boards. This time, I used a guide I had made because, again, the book didn't pop up as a reference. And it wasn't until this stream that the </color>..., which I had seen before, finally clicked. And I feel like I dodo for it not clicking sooner. The Game Design degree FINALLY kicked in and it occurred to me the fact we, might, be looking at part of the code is why it's not popping up as a reference, if it was supposed to pop up at all. If there's a way to send them glitches, hopefully, I remember to send this to them. With my least favorite part out of the way, the changes I did notice were great! The newly added NPCs had me freakin' out about how well designed they were! And I talked to each one I spotted! The one saying the ghost was probably a projection that used ChatGDP (I think, and I didn't feel like going through the video to find the reference) and other tech to program it... clever! Lastly, I've asked once; I'm probably gonna ask a thousand times... WHY ARE ALL THE DAMN LIGHTS ON IN THE HOUSE?

And that's it for this mini-review! Thank you for reading! If this series of videos interests you, check it out on YouTube, The Titans' Discord, Steam, Rumble, and Odysee! And on Twitch while the VODs last. Don’t forget to hit the Subscribe and/or Follow buttons to know when there's more!

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TIMESTAMPS 0:00 - Starting Soon 9:57 - Welcome Gamers! 12:22 - Artist Shout-Out 15:08 - Just Chatting/Announcement 17:54 - "Spoiler Restrictions Have Been Lifted!" 18:53 - Maid Café on Electric Street 1:55:06 - Break Time! 2:10:40 - Maid Café on Electric Street 3:22:51 - Be Right Back! 3:27:04 - Maid Café on Electric Street 3:53:12 - Artist Shout-Out 3:54:35 - Closing/Just Chatting 3:55:29 - Rendezvous Point Bookshop Plug 3:56:12 - Farewell/Up Next

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MORE INFO & TO SUPPORT - About MonriaTitans | WGS - Rendezvous Point Bookshop - Artist Shout-Out Criteria - The Titans’ Discord - Throne Wishlist - #SubOffTwitch - YouTube - Rumble - Odysee - Twitch - Steam

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Originally published to https://opinionsandtruth.wordpress.com on January 26, 2025.

[satyam0124]

Dubai's Party Brunch: Food, Fun, and Karaoke at Lucky Voice

Dubai's Party Brunch: Food, Fun, and Karaoke at Lucky Voice

In a city famous for its legendary brunches, Lucky Voice Dubai has had a unique vision of creating an ultimate party brunch experience to brighten up your weekend. Combining gourmet cuisine, unlimited beverages, and our signature karaoke entertainment, our brunch experience an unforgettable party that starts in the afternoon and only keeps getting livelier and groovier.

The Evolution of Brunch - Brunch Out Loud

Gone are the days when brunch meant simply sitting down for a meal at a certain time in the day. What we offer is simply a feast for all senses. In our experience, every type of occasion can benefit from a party brunch, from birthdays, hen/stag parties, corporate events, reunions or celebrations of your amazing successes and milestones. Join us for Brunch Out Loud - where your Saturday afternoon transforms into an unforgettable celebration! 

From 1-4pm, you can indulge in our curated unlimited menu featuring delectable dishes and refreshing drinks that'll keep your spirits high and taste buds dancing. That's just the beginning. We've lined up a roster of talented party DJs who'll keep the energy flowing with infectious beats and crowd favorites. For those who've always dreamed of taking center stage, grab the mic and let your inner star shine - our open mic karaoke session welcomes performers of all levels! Brunch Out Loud offers the perfect blend of fantastic food, flowing drinks, and feel-good entertainment. Don't miss out on the city's most vibrant Saturday afternoon experience!

The culinary journey at Lucky Voice's party brunch is nothing short of spectacular. The menu features:

International live cooking stations.

Fresh seafood selections.

Artisanal cheese and charcuterie boards.

Made-to-order signature dishes.

Decadent dessert displays.

Interactive food experiences.

Every dish you order is crafted to perfection, ensuring that the best party brunch in Dubai lives up to its reputation for both quality and variety.

Entertainment that Sets the Stage

As a premier dance club Dubai destination, the venue creates an electric atmosphere with several features including live party hosts and DJs, apart from other performers. Spontaneous dancing and karaoke are inviting options you can indulge in this weekend, over brunch. For those seeking an exclusive brunch experience, Lucky Voice Dubai's private karaoke rooms offer the perfect setting and your choice of ambience. A private room requires zero compromise on quality brunch. You can enjoy the full venue menu in privacy, enjoy more dedicated service while being able to control your music selection among other perks. And of course: you get to participate in the main venue area at your own leisure.

Seamless Transition to Nightlife

Sometimes brunch isn’t enough: as the afternoon progresses Lucky Voice transforms from its brunch focus to the most exciting hotspot of night life in Barsha Heights. After brunch, you can find yourself at Lucky Voice’s Saturday Night Fever from 8pm onwards. This is a chance to immerse yourself in a night of pure entertainment at Dubai's favorite karaoke hotspot. Our kitchen is firing up an incredible feast while our DJ keeps the dance floor alive with infectious beats between your star performances. A Lucky Voice guarantee is that the party doesn't stop when brunch ends.

Brunch as a Social Hotspot

Brunch is a social experience that takes the pressure off of more formal dinners while providing the appropriate setting to talk to people, whether it is networking with new connections or reuniting with old pals. Every weekend tells a new story as friends gather to create memories that last long after the plates are cleared. For this special meal and party experience, Lucky Voice offers their unwavering commitment to excellence in every detail. The professional staff orchestrates your experience with precision, while the sound systems and karaoke technology ensure entertainment at its finest. The culinary team takes pride in presenting dishes that are as visually stunning as they are delicious, all within an atmosphere that pulses with energy and excitement.

Planning your visit is as effortless as it gets. The venue welcomes advance bookings, with special attention given to group reservations. Valet parking adds a touch of convenience, and the smart casual dress code maintains the sophisticated yet relaxed ambiance. Regular promotions and seasonal packages offer added value, making luxury accessible to everyone who walks through their doors and we encourage you to check for the special offers periodically. We hope that you choose to experience the phenomenon that's redefining Dubai's brunch culture by visiting Lucky Voice, where brunch is not a meal, but a celebration worth remembering.