#potentially hazardous objects

[weirdstrangeandawful]

I’m probably going to take an AI astronomy course next year (2026-27) and I think I might have to leave tumblr for my mental health. The amount of misunderstanding of AI is rampant here and the arguments are bullshit.

For clarification: ChatGPT, Gemini, etc are bad because they’re trained on stolen data. Which is legal because AI is unregulated. Y’all are fighting the wrong cause.

I really don’t to leave this site because it’s usually really good about pivoting once more information comes to light but this really hasn’t happened. I can’t keep up the contradiction of the bombardement of information that I’m a horrible person in a field destroying all artists (including myself, I’m disabled, my income is variable and various) and also that I am doing important research in astronomy (no, not astrology or space travel. My dream job is to study PHOs — asteroids that could obliterate us).

[brain4stew]

Killers with a reader that has been kicking bosses’ asses in different games, worlds and etc, etc…

.

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1x1x1x1

• Did not expect that YOU… Of all survivors and killers… Has accomplished something like defeating, humans, machinery, demons and possibly even literal GODS…

• You seem to frail, weak and vulnerable to them, it honestly shocks him, to hear your accomplishments. (But she also strangely loves it…)

• He’d ask you to spar with him occasionally. Normally it ends up with her being on the ground, under you, or with them being unconscious, as you have to carry them to the killer’s cabin…

• After a lot of that, strangely enough, she’d develop… Feelings. For you. He’d be in denial of those feelings at first, but they’d eventually accept their feelings for you.

• Of course, with his awfully high pride, they do not tell you about her feelings for you. They think it’d make them seem weak.

.

.

John Doe

• Genuinely? Confused.

• Doesn’t understand how YOU of all beings, has been able to do all that. You seem so easy to break in his opinion.

• Doesn’t spar with you, as he’s a bit unsure if you can actually handle the corruption he may inflict on you, if you two ever were to spar.

• Does develop feelings for you, but eventually ends up forgetting those feelings. Causing a loop with those feelings.

.

.

Jason

• Confused how you managed all that, but is also amazed.

• He sees you as some sort of “Villain” or “Hero” he used to dream of when he was a kid, before… All that happened to him and his mother.

• His mother keeps telling him that you’re the “Hero/Villain” he’s been dreaming, and thinking of. (She enables the thinking and dreams, to make him feel great about his actions, his strength and all that.)

• He and his mother thinks you’re awesome from all your accomplishments.

.

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C00lkidd

• Sees you as a badass person. Maybe even sees you as his role model. (Cough. His dad basically. Cough.)

• He always asks you to tell him about your accomplishments, when he’s going to sleep. (He ends up falling asleep to when you tell him about when you fought a literal emotion demon. HATRED from blocktales smh…)

• You’re his role model, and always plays with you, unless you’re sparring with 1x4.

.

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Mafioso

• This guy… Actually finds it intriguing that you have so many accomplishments, and was tempted to recruit you in the mafia. (Eunoia said no.)

• His goons ask you if you are able to lift and carry lots of things, or even people. You lifted all 4 of his goons, carrying them in your arms, which shocked them and made them giddy for the possible next time you pick them up.

• Mafioso once had a far too heavy object on him, where he was literally crushed, like a rabbit/bunny pancake (that one video of a bunny laying flat after a cage like object fell on it). His goons did try and help, even Eunoia tried. But, they couldn’t help him.

• So what happened then? Eunoia called you over, and you helped him. When I tell you, that this man, fell head over heels for you right then and there…

.

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Azure

• Now, they normally wouldn’t be impressed, but when they heard you take down a literal CULT, that had plenty of potential hazard/atomic weapons? WOW.

• They actually asked you if you fought anyone, or anything similar to what they are now. And you, of course, say yes, that you have. You told them everything about the fight, and how you struggled a bit, due to the tentacles.

• And dear god, you swear you saw their tentacles swirl and make small heart shapes as they listened to you.

• They occasionally pick you up out of nowhere, just to see how you’ll react, and how you’ll get out of their grasp. Hands, arms, tentacles, you name it.

• They also ask you to pick them up and carry them a bit, although that is extremely rare for them to ask of you. But when they do ask that, you do pick them up and carry them around, careful of their tentacles and all that.

• The way they fell in love felt weird for them.

.

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Noli

• This guy, he’s a bit of a prick.

• He sometimes teases you about your accomplishments, and how unlucky you are with those you had to fight.

• You in return, grab his leg and hold home upside down to shut him up, momentarily.

• He’s surprised by how strong you actually are, because he thought you weren’t strong, even with your accomplishments…

• This guy, actually wants to see how you’ll do against a dangerous exploiter/hacker… But doesn’t know how to ask you about that.

• He does ask you occasionally to pick him up when he’s a bit exhausted, which you do. You just, pick him up, and let him rest in your arms, as you go about your day with him in your arms.

.

.

Guest 666

• I genuinely have no idea how to write for this idiot.

• He’s confused, but also amazed by your accomplishments.

• His tail, is just wagging whenever you tell him a story about one of your accomplishments, he’s listening intently.

• He occasionally asks you if you can even lift him up and carry him. You did once, and it legit scared the fuck outta him, and he most of the time, doesn’t ask you to pick him up again.

• He wonders what Noob will think of you, but his thoughts get cut off by you sparring with 1x4, which he pays A LOT of attention on.

[simplyalicee]

˚₊‧꒰ა bittersweet ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Sebastian x GN!reader, angst(?) and fluff

TW: none

You were tired. Oh, so tired.

Your fraile figure trembled from the unbearable freezing temperature. Your body ached with exhaustion and hunger. When was the last time you had a proper meal? Hours felt like days. You were numb. So much pain, yet you stood. How could you possibly continue with your state? You felt as if you were about to collapse from the pressure.

You wanted to go back. Stop your mission and head back to the surface. But could you risk that potential for freedom? To go back empty-handed and be tossed back in your cell? To risk more years of being falsely incarcerated? No, no you could not. You hadn't seen the light of day for years. It felt like forever since you've last saw your loved ones. You craved their affection, their gentle touch, their words sweet like honey. You missed them so terribly.

Going back was not an option.

Urbanshade made the objective very clear; retrieve the crystal. You weren't disclosed of any other information. You were going into this deadly mission practically blind. You were left to navigate through the destroyed labs and risk your life with dangerous creatures with the thirst of blood and malice. It always amazed yet terrified you of how capable every entity was.

Speaking of... what was that sound?

You heard the faint sounds of something— screaming? No, it didn't sound like screaming. But whatever it was, time ran shorter as the room shook, knocking drawers and other objects down to the ground. Glass shattered on the ground. You grew frantic of this new presence and rushed to the nearest locker. You crammed yourself inside and closed your eyes tightly, bracing yourself for an angler fish to swoop by.

But it wasn't an angler fish.

Instead, you were met with pounding against the locker doors. You shook with the locker and, fortunately, instinctively dug your bruised fingers into the opening slits of the locker. You opened your eyes to see an entirely new entity— all you could see were the many eyes that burned through your soul. You could feel your heart race as this new creature kept pounding on the locker, aching to reach you. Tears streamed down your face. Your grip loosened. You fought to keep up and keep the doors closed, but your exhaustion was catching up quicker.

As the doors were slammed against one final time, your fingers gave up and ceased proper functioning. You lost your grip. The locker shook once more and you closed your eyes. You prepared yourself to be met with nothing but cold, stinging death. You took what you thought was your last breath and murmured a goodbye.

But nothing happened.

Intrigued, you open your eyes and saw nothing. Was it already gone? You couldn't tell, but your heart pounded the longer you stayed inside. You quickly hopped out and took deep breaths to calm yourself. What was that thing? What did it want? Dumb question, it wanted you dead. Everything down here wanted you dead. But you tried not to think about that too much.

Once calmed down, you looked around your surroundings, noting the new hazards laid before you. You were so tired. You wanted to rest so badly. But rest was not an option here. You had researchers that needed your help, unfortunately. With a sigh, you forced your aching body through the doors and continued your path.

Foot after foot, breath after breath, you really were unsure if you'd make it out alive. You were deprived of food, sleep, and warmth. Not to mention that there were more ponds of water to swim through than anticipated. You were soaked. And, with the harsh coldness burning your exposed skin, you were left numb and pained. The urge to cry became strong but you were simply too weak to cry.

Come door 50, you were met with another dark room. Wonderful. Your flashlight was nearly out of juice and other light sources you had on you were dead. So much for savoring light. You decided to try to save the remaining battery power and venture through the darkness. Each footstep inside made you more paranoid of those squiddles. Those horrific faces that would burn into you if you dared to flash your light or come close.

Alas, as your paranoia was at an all-time high, you heard a voice call out to you.

"Hey friend, over here."

You shrieked and jumped from the sudden break of silence. Oh no, was tnis your demise? You couldn't tell anymore. But judging from whoever just spoke to you actually communicated with you through language instead of aggression, you were quick to get moving to find the source. Now was the good time to use the flashlight. You turned the light on and cautiously waved the light around. You found more desks, the usual. But a vent caught your eye. Maybe it came from there? You were uncertain, but it was better than being out here. With a mumble, you got down to your knees and crawled through the tight space.

The path wasn't long, and thank heavens that there was some decent lighting up ahead. You crawled and made your way into a decently big room. But that's not what caught your eye, obviously. As you stood up and began dusting yourself, your eyes met some... thing? Unimaginable. Your jaw dropped. This creature was huge, possibly 20 to 30 times bigger than you. You couldn't help but stare at his features; pale blue skin, his eyes glowing a soft cyan, his black hair that looked soft to the touch, his attire covering his upper body; you couldn't help but be both amazed and petrified.

"Welcome, new friend! Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Sebastian, your only friend." His voice was oddly warm and welcoming, but you knew to not underestimate him over some hospitality. You were very small compared to him.

Sebastian opened his mouth to continue but stopped himself almost immediately. You were confused for a moment, not aware that you were slowly slumping to the ground. You were trying to pay attention and had not realized your own body was giving up on you. And Sebastian was no idiot. He could easily tell you weren't well. And before you knew it, your knees buckled below you, causing you to slip and crash down on the floor. Consciousness slipped mere seconds after.

Sebastian stared down at you for a short moment. He was clearly dumbfounded, had he not expected this outcome. He could just leave you be on the cold surface. But instead, he slowly reached his hands out and carefully picked you up. You were so small, so fragile. So tired and numb. Sebastian frowned, knowing there wasn't much he could do. He felt your cold state and shivered.

"You're colder than ice," he murmured under his breath. In a way, he kind of felt bad. There were no blankets around, so Sebastian resorted to carefully holding you in his arms to keep you warm. He kept you close to him as his eyes examined your state. He simply sighed and shook his head. Why go this far for you? You might as well be someone ungrateful, right? His thoughts rushed through his head but yet kept you in his arms regardless. Eventually, he gave up and sighed.

"You owe me," he mumbled under his breath and covered you with his jacket before leaning himself against the wall. He couldn't believe he was doing this for you. So ungrateful.

Although, he hadn't had something to hold in a little while. So maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

☆☆☆☆☆☆

Written closely to lore, writer is tired.

[kunaigirl]

Another thing I really appreciate about the FNAF:SOTM game is how they incorporate the limited (yet impressive and state of the art at the time) 1970s technology for the animatronics. If you look into the real life (US) establishments that used animatronics in the 70s, like ShowBiz Pizza and it's rival/successor Chuck E. Cheese's, you can see exactly why the animatronics look and move like they do in game.

In the 1970s, animatronics were only functional when attached to massive structures and objects that could both house and hide all the necessary mechanical components needed to make them function. These were often called "Shelf" shows, since the animatronics were attached to walls or other large structures designed to mimic showroom furniture. Seeing how FNAF:SOTM incorporates this era-accurate technology and design is REALLY COOL.

In my opinion, it really makes these animatronics specifically some of the most terrifying robots of the entire franchise. The animatronics in the other games are already hazardous enough because they're fast moving and made of heavy metal/steel skeletons, but the 70s bots? Multiply that by a hundred. They're strong enough to drag around OR rip through the ENTIRE MASSIVE FOUNDATIONAL AND INDUSTRIAL STEEL STRUCTURES that are attached to them. THINK ABOUT IT

These structures also make them even larger and heavier than any of the other animatronics on a very massive scale. Don't even get me started on the potential weight of these things. Big Top is an especially fantastic example of this horror in action. He rips through the entire deep steel track AND the center room structure that he's attached to, and drags that shit around while knocking down entire walls. That thing is MASSIVE and moves super slow, also adding to the creepiness. He's only able to appear "fast" because of his physical scale and reach-range.

Another good example is Jackie. Her "shelf" structure is smaller, but it's still full of the rest of her functional foundation technology and she RIPS HERSELF IN HALF to get out of it. Then she's a half-body dragging herself around all teke-teke style??? While also probably baring the same weight as a truck??? HORRIFYING. There's a whole extra layer to the horror elements for these 70s bots that just isn't present in other games to the this specific degree.

Safety regulations were also very much NOT what they are today (or even in the 80s/90s) so these robots had sharp edges and lose/exposed metal/bolts/etc the likes of which are INSANE. They were designed to be looked at from a distance and never be interacted so up-close and personally. OH YEAH ALSO!!! CAN'T FORGET!!! Lead was still being used in most commercial and large-scale metal and mechanical structures during this era. To recap! These robots are stronger than any other robots that exist in the FNAF universe. Any robot can rip through a soft and fleshy human, but these bots capable of tearing through a buildings worth of steel within seconds. The other FNAF robots are stopped by metal doors. They're also absolutely full of lead, and while they have extremely limited mobility, they're extremely capable of using those exact structures as part of their weaponry.

THEY'RE ALL SUCH HORRIFYING IDEAS AND IMPLICATIONS AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH.

[carbootsoul]

in retrospect I think what used to bother me so much about the utena trigger warning post is that the author explicitly had an agenda. that post was built to bias you toward or against specific characters in the show (I think least fairly against mikage) and, as an external document which is made to be used during someones first watching, I think that's a borderline unforgivable intrusion into the organic relationship between creator and watcher esp in a show whose gray morality is intentionally digging through real life social norms. perhaps a fair way to watch utena is to watch with an eye toward creating your own trigger warning map-- someone else doing the work for you denies you a very significant part of watching the show.

this is to say that it [the agenda expressed through the trigger warnings] solidifies in value judgements things which the show holds very loosely and it [the agenda] does so from a place of false authority/false objectivity. mikage is utena. he is both very young and very old and this ambiguity is essential to him and his role in the narrative. beyond the potentially disastrous effects of the poster attempting to solidify his age, what does it mean to call him a pedophile in the context of the show? certainly rgu gives you some baseline [for the meaning and moral value of pedophilia], but I would hazard to guess that baseline is not the same as the baseline the creator of that post, since there is never a pedophilia-based moral judgement made against mikage from within the show. the creator of the post is presenting their interpretation as a universally accurate one and, even more than that, as a absolutely moral one. they are imposing their subjective/"absolute"/external moral values onto the internal ambiguous moral system of the show AND they are offering those external values to someone who is unfamiliar with this internal world, sees them as an authority, and has no means to argue with them.

finally it is just completely insane to have trigger warnings and not tag the touga/saionji/akio camera scene because that shit was crazy

[lincolndjarin]

hollow star ⊹₊⟡⋆ ch. one

chapter one : when flesh meets steal

ao3 kofi main masterlist (series masterlist coming soon )

pairing: din djarin x scientist!reader

rating: 18+ mdni - check chapter tags for cws

word count : 6.1k

summary: Din agrees to help you when he's sees the credits you're offering in exchange for protection, after all, it's a simple mission. Artifact retrieval and data collection.

That's what you told him.

And why wouldn't he believe you?

tags: strangers to lovers, horror, non-consensual voyeurism, slowburn, psycological horror, fear

70,000 CREDITS - PRIVATE ESCORT DETAIL : FREELANCE OPERATIVES ONLY

SERVICE TYPE: Discreet Escort / Protection Detail 

DURATION: 2 weeks (approximately) 

LOCATION: Classified - Outer Rim, unregistered planet (coordinates provided upon meeting)

COMPENSATION: 140,000 credits, 70,000 upfront, and the remainder upon completion of the job. (an additional 10,000 credits will be provided for every day of service required after the initial 2 weeks.)

BONUS: Hazard pay negotiable based on situational escalation.

REQUIREMENTS:  Combat experience, (soldier or soldier adjacent is preferable) must be familiar with navigation and willing to travel through hostile terrain. Preferably a ship that does not require a crew and has a solo operator. (negotiable) Must not be affiliated with the New Republic, or any Jedi-aligned factions. 

Private client requiring an armed escort for the purpose of a personal research trip. The objective being artifact retrieval and/or data extraction. No combat is anticipated but the client requests protection against potential scavengers or environmental threats. Client will not be armed. No questions asked, no answers expected, discretion is non-negotiable. 

There’s several blocked lines of text at the bottom of his monitor, encrypted information about the client that makes him furrow his brow. The black screen flickers a bit, his thoughts accompanied by the quiet hum of the space that surrounds the Razor Crest. 140,000 credits is nothing to scoff at, it’s the type of payment he’d expect on a high risk job, or something far more sinister than this. That kind of money is often offered up for jobs that most people wouldn’t choose because of its morality. Hit’s put out on children, or the defenseless. Or at the very least something that would take well over a few months. 

Not this, not a simple in and out escort job. 

The redacted information is concerning. Too concerning, even with the payout promised. His fingers type into the system for a few moments, trying to push through what he knows to be simple defenses put up by the guild before the screen blinks and the text is easily revealed to him. With a pleased sigh he sits back in his chair and reads. 

Client shows signs of previous Imperial affiliation, though not flagged for war crimes. Known history with a classified archives division. Linguist, no combat personnel history. Last known activity listed as an unexplained incident with a vault located at Station Mourna 2. (now sealed.) Was assigned to the Imperial Historical Recovery Taskforce, or I-HRT, division 12. No last known location. No existing warrants or bounties on head. 

The Imperial affiliation stands out to him but it reads like they had very little to do with anything more than their history department. Which seems benign enough and would explain the exorbitant fee. They can simply afford it. 

But there’s just something off about the listing. 

It should be so simple, it’s a clean cut job, a bit clinical, but nothing of the sort would be required of him. It’s the top left corner of the screen that makes him the most hesitant. 

36 applications received, 0 accepted. 

The client clearly requires someone experienced, it can’t even be seen by anyone without a certain guild clearance level but 0 acceptances out of 36? It’s unheard of, even with the pickiest clients. Anyone who would have applied at this point would have been more than qualified. 

Maybe the client is particular about certain things, or maybe they already found someone and forgot to remove the listing. Either way it’s simply too tempting to resist any longer. He needs the money, or at the very least he needs the distance. 

He can’t just keep waiting here, burning through fuel, for something that is never going to happen. 

He enters his guild code, fingers lingering above the send button before finally clicking it. Rocking back in the pilot's seat he lets his head fall back. Accepting the fact that he won’t be receiving a response before the message has even been fully sent out. 

So the immediate chime made by the ship's notification system is more than a shock as he sits back up. 

Congratulations! Your application has been accepted! The client will be waiting for you on : CORUSCANT 

Attached you will find the message provided by the client, best of luck!

I would like to be retrieved as quickly as possible from the Kaelen Memorial Travel Port. Payment will be exchanged immediately after boarding. Your haste is appreciated. 

Dr. Thorne

The response makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He can’t place the sense of dread this all fills him with but unfortunately his mind is made up. A lot of things fill him with dread these days, so he might as well make a little money. 

It’s not like he has anything left to lose.

⊹₊⟡⋆

Sleep doesn’t come easy to him.

It never has, but especially not these last few months. Almost always it’s just simple restlessness, a refusal to turn off the hunters instincts and relax. Waking up in a sweat after a dream of just barely snagging a bounty, or finding himself at the end of a blaster being wielded by one of the many nameless faces he’s turned in over the years.  

Tonight is different though. Tonight he sinks into sleep slowly, but deeply. 

When he wakes up he’s met with a feeling he hasn’t felt in decades. 

The wind. 

Cold, and sharp against his face as he cautiously gets to his feet. He’s standing in a field of ash, no visible sky above, only more grey and smoke. 

He manages to pull himself together enough to realize he’s dreaming but it doesn’t make him any less disoriented. His hands find his face, scratching at the unfamiliar sting of air on his flesh. Looking around and trying to take in his surroundings proves fruitless until something slowly slips through the smoke above him. Swaying back and forth in the breeze until it gingerly lands in his open hands. 

A feather. 

A dainty, black feather.

When he shifts his gaze upwards to find the source he finally finds something else in the endless expanse of space around him. A star. 

Although it’s barely that at all. 

Hanging from a mess of wires is a poorly made steel outline of a star, desperately trying to stay together as a few sparks twitch out of the exposed cables within. It tries to flicker, to turn on but all it manages is a pathetic glow from the hollow space within. It isn’t a normal light it emits either, he immediately recognizes it as the same glow made by the darksaber, instinctively he reaches for his hip to find it but only grabs air. Looking down in search of it forcefully makes him drop down a foot into the ash. 

Before he can find his footing he sinks again, another jolt down so that he’s up to his knees in ash. Frantically, he tries to hold onto something, anything, but there’s only more grainy ash, he finds no purchase as he sinks, quicker, and quicker, unable to hold on any longer he takes a deep breath, preparing for the punishing lack of oxygen he’s about to be faced with. 

And then he wakes up. 

Gasping, and clawing at the single sheet that lines the mattress in his bunk. 

It’s a tight squeeze when he leverages himself out, falling to his knees in the cargo hold of the ship, wildly ripping his helmet off before the air can properly depressurize, giving himself a sharp pain in his temples. He’s too desperate for air to care about the headache he’s gonna have for the rest of the day. 

⊹₊⟡⋆

It’s late. 

The port you’ve requested boarding at isn’t one he’s familiar with. Coruscant is a large planet though, and there’s plenty of places in the galaxy that he’s never been to. As he approaches the first thing he notes is how dark it is. The entire planet is lit up, especially from a distance. The mass of cities and the vibrant nightlife keep the planet well lit. Unfortunately for him, it seems you’ve chosen the only dark patch on the entire planet. It isn’t easy to calibrate the landing because of the lack of light, he can’t see anything clearly but it appears to be completely empty so he picks a random spot and prepares himself. 

The ship hovers above the crumbling refueling station, slowly descending before landing with a hiss of air. For the price attached to the job he certainly wasn’t expecting to dock in such a shitty spot. Unsure of what to expect he makes his way to the loading dock and lowers the ramp, before it even reaches the stone pathway a pair of boots land on the edge. 

Instinctively his hand twitches to his blaster as he assesses the figure. 

Alone, cloaked, and calm. Before him stands who he is certain must be his client. He was expecting a stony faced doctor, someone older, someone that looked like they’d spent plenty of time out in the field. 

Which is why he’s taken aback by the sight of you. 

Doe-eyed, looking out of place in the dark robes that adorn your body, the only out of place thing about you is the small pale scar along your jaw. In one swift motion you drag a large suitcase up onto the platform behind you. 

��Worn, but efficient.” Are the first words out of your mouth as you take in the sights of the ship, as if he isn’t standing directly in front of you. “I suppose this will do.” Nodding to yourself you finally let your gaze settle in him, a smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes adorns your face. “Hello, Mandalorian.” It’s almost posed as a question, you want confirmation that you’re in the right place despite the fact that he’s standing before you in full beskar armour.  

He isn’t sure how to respond. The client information section of the listing flashes through his mind as he stares. 

Imperial affiliation. 

Your outfit surely suggests that but the rest of you screams inexperienced. He hasn’t ever seen someone who looks so unprepared for a field job. And he finds himself experiencing a feeling he’s only ever felt a handful of times in his life. 

Surprised. 

But you can’t know that. 

He’s supposed to be the seasoned bounty hunter who can handle anything thrown his direction. At least that’s what you’re paying for. Convinced his voice will betray him, he only nods at you. 

“Good, I’m Dr. Thorne, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Stepping further up onto the ship you hold your hand out towards him. With robotic movements he gives you a quick and firm handshake before immediately withdrawing. Even through his gloves he can feel just how cold you are. 

With every passing second he’s regretting this decision more and more. 

“I appreciate your punctuality.” You rock slowly, back and forth on your heels as you size him up, making no attempts at being subtle. “And you’re taller than I expected. Not an issue, just something of note.” You force a laugh but he still doesn’t speak. Partly because he isn’t the chatty type but also because he just doesn’t know what to say. Your tone is too clinical, like he’s a patient and you’re his doctor. “And you haven’t interrupted me once, which is… polite, I suppose.” He can’t decide if you’re joking so he continues to nod. 

Everything about you is odd, it gives him a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. This is why he doesn’t usually take escort jobs. They require too much talking, it’s been so long since he’s had someone aboard that wasn’t a bounty he can’t even discern if this is typical conversation. You’re too clinical, too detached from your words, if it weren’t for your constant twitching and unpredictable muscle spasms he’d have thought you were a droid. He has to remind himself that you’re just a person, and he’s met plenty of people, some over twice your size, and never once felt intimidated. 

With an indiscernible shiver he shakes off the feeling, after all there is no direct threat here, just discomfort, and he’s more than well equipped to handle a little discomfort. 

“Would you mind directing me to my chambers so that I might deposit my belongings before we proceed?” The naivety of your statement makes him scoff, and briefly his walls break down. You’re about to be in for a rude awakening as he tilts his head to the left, the airlock doors open on a small storage compartment. Clearly a space used to store weapons or fuel, that has been cleaned and haphazardly refurbished with a cot, a steel dresser, and a storage trunk. 

But you are completely unshaken. 

Despite your neatly kept robes and hair pulled back is a strict tie you show no signs of distress at the tiny living space. 

“Well this is easy enough.” You grunt a little, dragging your large bag forward, tossing it into the compartment before turning to face him once more, riffling around in your robe pockets and presenting him with a large satchel that jingles with the sound of credits as you hold it out politely towards him. 

“You don’t seem up for conversation so I suppose we should just get on with it then.” You click your tongue, softly, it doesn’t seem like you even realized that you did it. “Perhaps I should try speaking your language. My plans are as follows; I would like safe and comfortable transportation to my desired location. When we arrive I would like you to accompany me as I conduct my research. It is nothing of great importance, more of a personal project of mine, I’d like to retrieve an artifact for my personal collection. It isn’t considered particularly valuable by any means, it’s just something significant to the niche of research that I’ve devoted my life to. While I am willing to share more information on it I’d rather not and I’d be willing to bet that you don’t want to hear it anyway so I think it would be for the best to keep it that way. I am not anticipating a need for protection, the site was condemned ages ago, but I find that preparing for the worst case scenario is best. You will accompany me. I will examine the ruins, collect samples and data, and when I’m done, we will board the ship and you will bring me back here.” 

Your eyes dart down to the credits and then back up to his visor. 

“70,000 credits, as promised upon arrival. With another 70,000 to be transferred electronically automatically at the end of the two week period along with a bonus for your discretion.” The end of your sentence drifts off to a whisper as you wait for him to accept. 

You barely breathed during your ramblings and his brain is fighting to process everything at the same speed as your voice. 

A moment of eerie silence swallows the space around them, something of significance that he can’t quite place, nor can he discern if you feel it too. A sour taste in his mouth and the feeling of bile rising in his throat, a feeling of being watched, all eyes on him. Waiting for him to make the choice, the right choice. 

And as he thinks it over you react with enough tiny tells to finally let him know that you’re just as nervous. 

You’re in a constant state of motion, even when you appear to be still, as if there’s something under your skin keeping you going. 

But it was foolish of you to even think you could hide from him, he was trained to do this, to read a situation like this with deadly precision, despite how low stakes it might look to an outsider he can feel the weight of the situation, heavy on his chest as his eyes roam the oncoming storm that is you. 

The way your jaw ticks, the subtle flex of the muscles in your cheek as you fight the urge to grind your teeth. Your nails chewed down to the quick, and the skin around them red and angry from nervous scratching and picking. The color of your undereyes is just a little too bright, you’re covering up something with makeup, almost certainly dark under eyes. The scar that runs along the bottom of your jaw is barely visible when you’re facing forward but he can tell it’s old, it healed long ago but everytime you look in the mirror you’re reminded of whatever it was that gave it to you. Oddly enough, the culmination of all of this is enough to finally relax him a bit. It’s what finally makes you human in his eyes.

You put on a good show. 

At first glance he was entirely convinced that you were this mysterious, calculating Imperial doctor, but he can see through all of that with a closer look. You’re a survivor. You’re scared of whatever mission it is that you’re about to embark on, but you’re not the threat you try to discreetly present yourself as. 

“Trust is expensive out here.” The stare of wide eyed innocence you give him makes up his mind as he holds his own hand out and accepts the credits. You visibly exhale when he does. “I just hope that with this, I’ve earned yours.” 

The nod he gives you provides no promises, you’d be stupid to think that he trusts you, but at the very least you’re putting some trust in him. 

And that’s enough to make him speak his first words to you. The question that’s been on his mind since he saw your listing. 

“Where are we going?” He can immediately tell that how ragged his voice is from disuse is startling. He can’t seem to recall the last time he had to speak. 

Politely, and anticipating this question you reach into your robes once more before producing a small slip of paper with coordinates neatly written on them. 

“I don’t know the name of the planet, it’s old and I haven’t been able to find many records of an official title.” He’s quickly realizing that you speak like you rehearsed this all, it’s an odd, robotic, tone. It makes him want to ask more but he knows that he probably wouldn’t like any answer you gave him, the way you speak unsettles him. Instead of dwelling he tries to map out in his mind how long the trip will be from here to this mystery planet based on the coordinates. 

“Should be about two days of travel, is there anything else you need before we leave?” He has rations set aside for the two of you but with the possible end date of this job being ambiguous it’s troubling to think that all you have is one bag. “I have enough rations stored away for four weeks worth of travel, with four days total in round trip travel time I’d advise you to make sure you’re properly equipped.” You aren’t looking at him anymore, instead your eyes wander and begin to study the ship around you. 

“I have everything we’ll need.” He watches as your temperature rises, just a degree or two, wondering if it’s your nerves that are causing this reaction. “I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”

There’s no reason to draw this out any longer than necessary, with his pockets weighed down with his payment he makes a beeline for the bay door panel, with a deafening groan the steel doors slide shut. Ignoring the feeling of your eyes on him he pushes a series of buttons, ensuring a proper seal on the airlock. No going back now. 

“Shall I join you in the cockpit? Perhaps I could properly brief you on the mission and we could exchange pleasantries.” You give him a polite smile but he shakes his head. The last thing he wants right now is more conversation with you. 

“Get some sleep, it’s gonna be a long trip.” He tries to control his tone, attempting a cordial manner of speaking. 

He can’t get to the cockpit quickly enough. Careful to lock the hatch behind him he starts to set the course. It’s a fifty hour trip there, fifty hours until the unknown. Setting the ship for an auto pilot trip he leans back in his chair, taking deep breaths until the blinking light on the control panel breaks him out of his silent meditation. 

The ship's motion detectors. 

He’s never used the security system, he’d had it installed as a sort of baby monitor for the kid but he’d never needed it. He so rarely has anyone on the ship to monitor. 

He fiddles with the controls briefly until the monitor to his left hums to life with the grainy image of you, standing alone right where he left you. 

As you look around the room, taking your time to note everything around you he finds himself fascinated by the sight of you. Being able to watch you from the outside makes you much more interesting. 

When you finally move it isn’t too rushed to your chambers.

Instead you move slowly, drinking in the space. You lift your hand and your robe flows like water around you, and you touch the closest wall. Pacing, circling the room you brush your hand up against everything, not searching or scheming, just feeling. Mapping out the space. You pause in front of one of the many supply lockers crammed in against the interior wiring of the ship, tilting your head as if you’re listening for something. A small, private smile tugging at the corners of your mouth before you move on. 

His gloved hands flip through the switches, cycling through the different feeds until you’re back on the screen, stepping lightly into a cargo hold. 

You’re so careful. You don’t pry or rummage through his things, instead you just do a lap around the room, fingertips dragging along the seams of the walls that conceal panels, the cold steel of storage crates. 

You linger over things like the emergency oxygen masks and the first aid kits, like you’re memorizing their placements. Everything in the room feels your featherlight touch as you slowly trace every edge and curve. He feels like he watches you move from room to room for hours until you finally make your way into your quarters. Instinctively he changes the feed again only to be met with static. A frown forming on his face until he realizes why. 

When he’d purchased the ship he had to calibrate the system to his liking, and he’d marked any rooms used as sleeping quarters as private. He didn’t normally have guests on the ship but he wasn’t a creep. His thumb hovers over the manual toggle anyway, and a thought crosses his mind. 

He shouldn’t be watching you, you clearly have no ill intentions. It would be wrong to keep watching. 

But you’re wearing all those layered robes. 

A concealed weapon isn’t just a possibility, it’s smart. And with your intelligence it should be expected. 

And of course he hadn’t searched you upon boarding, you’re a paying customer, it would have been rude and might have lost him the job. 

He flexes his hand. 

Something about you was off, even the listing had been strange. The wise decision here would be to make sure that everything appears typical. His mind argues back and forth with itself as he tries to justify this, eventually his curiosity gets the best of him. 

Just until you’re done changing, he tells himself. Just to be sure. 

The feed cuts to an unblurred view of your room. 

For a moment you just dig through your bag, and his jaw tightens. You pull out a few notebooks and pens, tossing them onto the cot. Your movements are so much more fluid now, without rush, more natural looking than you’d been in front of him. 

Standing with your back to the camera your fingers find the ties at your waist, loosening them, the fabric falls off your shoulders. Slowly and methodically you slip off each layer, catching them before they hit the floor, and folding them neatly. It’s a long and arduous process as you go layer by layer until you’ve got a stack on your dresser and you clasp your hands together, finished. 

Now revealed is a thin underlayer, a close fitted tunic and pants that end just above your knees. Clothes meant for sleeping, nothing else. Tight enough to make it obvious that you’re concealing nothing. 

He tells himself again that this is all just a precaution  

His throat feels terribly dry. 

He should turn it off. But he can’t.

Reaching up, you undo your hair, arching yourself back in a stretch that makes his entire justification for watching you suddenly feel twisted and dirty. 

There are no weapons. Nothing hidden. 

Nothing but you. 

And then, you froze in place.  

Halfway through a groan of relief as you stretch, you turn towards the wall. 

Head tilting up until your gaze is facing the camera. 

Not just towards it, right at it.

Your eyes are calm, not accusatory, not shocked. 

That somehow makes him feel worse. A bead of sweat sliding down his forehead and over the bridge of his nose. 

And you tilt your head to the side, just a smidge. Like you’re staring right at him. Like you’re the one observing him. 

He cuts the feed. 

Turning the monitor off entirely as the cockpit goes silent and he’s staring at his own reflection in the now blank screen. Helmeted, emotionless, guiltless. 

He certainly doesn’t feel that way, as shame is starting to set in like cement in his chest. 

Leaning back in his chair he exhales slowly. 

He certainly isn’t going to sleep soundly tonight. 

⊹₊⟡⋆ 

The familiar scent of the motel room fills your head as you rush back in, slamming the door shut behind you with a panicked breath, scrambling for the lock before relaxing. 

It’s a shitty place to stay, with even shittier neighbors. Your research is too important to be kept here, you know that, but you don’t have any other choice. This was and continues to be the cheapest option. Just as you’re setting your bag down your tablet across the room chimes. For the last three months you’ve felt your heart race at the sound of that notification dozens of times, only to immediately be disappointed. Tonight is no different. Your breath quickens immediately, almost to the point of hyperventilation as you dart across the room, kneeling in front of the bed as you type your password into the device. 

[ YOU HAVE : 1 NEW APPLICATION - WOULD YOU LIKE TO REVIEW IT? ]

Out of habit you’re tapping the space where the “yes” icon is going to appear before it’s even there. The screen changes to the applicants guild code, but that’s not the information you’re after, your eyes skip over it the redacted information portion, you’ve already put a system in place that reveals it and you desperately search for the one word you’ve been waiting for. 

And for the first time since you put out this damn listing, you find it. 

Mandalorian 

It feels like your heart stops, you know you shouldn’t get your hopes up, but this could be the one. 

Male, 40 years of age, (estimate) combat capable, well experienced, specialties in location and extraction of bounties, Mandalorian, solo operation. 

He fits all the parameters, even if they’re vague. It isn’t a guarantee that he’s the one you’ve been waiting for but you don’t even think about it as you type in your response, signing it with the name you were given during your time serving the Empire. 

Dr. Thorne 

You hurriedly pack everything you can into your bag before laying down, heart racing, the moment you get a response you’ll be checking out of this hell hole. If the guild member arrives and isn’t the Mandalorian in full silver with a mudhorn signet on his pauldron you’ll just turn around and try again. 

… 

In the morning you have an estimated arrival time and it’s all finally coming together. You tell yourself over and over again to not get ahead of yourself. It’s more than likely that you’ll be checking back into hotel hell tonight. 

There’s nothing left to do at this point but wait. So that’s exactly what you do, you sit by the small window and wait for the sun to set, your eyes locked onto the clock on your tablet. Until finally, a little after ten o’clock there’s another notification chime and you know he’ll be landing soon.

You dress yourself in the only nice clothes you have left, your robes, and travel to what you know to be an abandoned space port. Pulling your cloak more tightly around yourself as the cold settles into your bones. You aren’t standing in the dark for long, soon enough there's a rush of hot air as a ship materializes out of the darkness, landing directly in front of you. You’re absolutely wired at this point. It feels like there’s an electric current running under your skin as a loud hiss fills the quiet air around you and a large ramp lowers itself to the ground and you can see the soft golden light within. 

You’re too fired up to wait for it to hit the ground, careful not to lose your balance you hoist yourself up. Taking in the sights of the ship, forcing a smile, preparing yourself for the wave of defeat that will wash over you when you see him. 

And then you do. 

And he sees you. 

And the weight of the world is lifted off your shoulders. 

Your brain stops working but thankfully your mouth doesn’t, you’re on auto-pilot, introducing yourself, shaking his hand, greeting him. 

Him. 

Standing before you just as you’d dreamed. In a full suit of silver armour, the signature Mandalorian helmet adorns his head. He’s taller than you thought he’d be, more menacing. You aren’t scared of him though, you couldn’t be. Your eyes drift to his shoulder, the mughorn symbol visible from where you’re standing. 

You finally manage to shake off the sense of awe and ask him where your chambers are and he scoffs, how odd. He nods to an open room to your left and you drag the bag carrying your entire life over, tossing it in. It’s a palace compared to the types of places you’ve been living in. It’s clean. It’s safe.

He doesn’t seem to want to talk to you yet, that’s fine, he needs to warm up to you. You just need to get him to accept the payment and then there’s no going back. You grab the credits, the precious compensation that’s going to be your salvation and hold it out towards him. When he doesn’t react, panic starts to rise like bile in your throat. 

He’s just staring at you. 

Suddenly you’re terrified. 

Terrified that he’s changed his mind.

Terrified that he’ll want to negotiate for more money, something that you can’t afford. 

Terrified that you’ve said something that’s convinced him that this isn’t going to work. 

And most of all, you're terrified that he sees right through you. 

That he can see this facade you’re putting on solely for his benefit, this image of a weak and helpless girl, desperately in need of help. You’ve worked too hard to look broken, like a damsel in distress, you’ll be damned if this crumbles now. 

“Trust is expensive out here.” The words tumble out of you before you can stop them. Stupid! He just needs a little time, if you keep pushing him you risk losing everything before you’ve even begun. 

Your heart flutters as he closes his hand around the bag. 

Of course he accepted. He’s going to protect you now, you knew he was the one. 

“I just hope that with this, I’ve earned yours.” You give him a much more relaxed smile. Of course he doesn’t trust you. That’s why he’s perfect. None of this would work if he trusted you immediately. It needs to be slow, gradual, and earned. It needs to be real. And with what likely awaits you at the station you know you will need that trust soon. 

You know you shouldn’t push it, you should go to bed now and leave him to his work but you want him to trust you now, you want him to be everything you know he can be. 

But he doesn’t want that.

He isn’t ready. 

He tells you to get some sleep but you aren’t tired, how can you be expected to sleep at a time like this? You don’t argue though, and you don’t follow him when he retires to the cockpit. You know you likely won’t see him until you land so you familiarize yourself with the ship. 

Taking deep breaths to ground yourself. 

You can’t remember the last time you felt at ease like you do now. 

You’ve spent the last decade in and out of highly hazardous working conditions, and then for a few years after that, you were in and out of the worst hotels in Coruscant. Always running from the thing that just won’t leave you be. 

It’s a breath of fresh air to enter your chambers and know that you can sleep soundly tonight. 

Careful not to wrinkle your only presentable clothing, you fold it all neatly, setting it aside for the days to follow. You’re ready to get into bed when the hair on the back of your neck stands up mid stretch. The all too familiar feeling of being watched. 

That can’t be right, not here, not now. 

Nothing should have been able to follow you here, turning and scanning the walls of your room you don’t see any obvious signs of danger. 

A patch of discolored paint in the corner catches your eye. It vaguely resembles a shadow and your blood runs cold, ever so slowly you tilt your head, trying to see if it’s a trick of the light. Slowly, the feeling of being surveilled eases. It’s just paint, dark patches of paint. 

It’s normal to be nervous. That’s what you tell yourself. 

Good things don’t happen to you.

They never have. 

You deserve to enjoy this fleeting sense of peace, for however long it lasts. 

After messing around with the buttons near the door you manage to turn the lights off. Leaving you in complete and total darkness as you slide under the wool blanket that’s been left on your cot. 

You have no control over the smile that creeps across your face as you deeply inhale the air on the ship, allowing yourself to savor it. 

Oil, iron, gunpowder, sweat. 

With the lights off and your vision completely obscured, your other senses are enhanced. You don’t just smell his sweat, you taste it. The distinct and metallic tang. Him. 

A combination of flesh, and leather, and something deeper, something so uniquely him. So familiar. 

Something that lit up that sharp and all consuming fire inside you. It started as a quiet hunger but has been growing for days, for weeks, for years. 

You feel your pulse quicken and fight to keep your breathing steady. How are you supposed to maintain your composure when you aren’t afraid? When was the last time you didn’t feel a constant underlying sense of dread? Unable to contain yourself any longer, you whisper into the silence of your cabin. The name that you’ve been repeating in your head for ages. 

“Din Djarin.” 

The name that has lived only in your mind reverberates around the small space, as if the galaxy itself was whispering it to you. You’d never spoken it aloud before now. You’d been saving it for a special occasion, it had taken time to learn it, patience, a deep dive into records, and rumors. It had taken quite some time but it hadn’t been hard. Not for someone who knew where to look, not for someone who was meant to know it, not for you. 

You’ve spent nearly a year on his trail, your studies, your life's work, they'd all lead to this moment. To him. 

You don’t have to be afraid anymore. 

He’s real, he’s here. You can feel his presence here, taste him, smell him, feel him. All of him, as he fills the space, you bury your face in the blanket and deeply inhale. The stress and the panic that have been building in your chest for Maker knows how long, starts to melt away bit by tortuous bit. 

You found him. 

And he’s going to save you.

a/n : I'm super super rusty so if this is bad let's blame it on that and hope it gets better lol, love y'all and thank you for reading if you made it this far <3

follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates!!

[grey-sorcery]

[Title]: Magical Potency: Improving the Efficacy of Magic

Suggested Reading

Finding Balance Threshold Theory Correspondences  Conceptualization Vs. Visualization Visualization: Effective Implementation Basics of Energy Work Basics of Spellcasting Spell Logs Intro to Gnosis Bias in Witchcraft The Subtle Body Axioms of Energy Work The Wellsource Energy Work & Spoon Theory Shadow Work: First Steps Intro to Grounding

Introduction

Magical potency refers to the efficacy and strength with which a spell is executed. This encompasses the accuracy with which the ritual is performed, the precision of the elements involved, and the intensity of focus and energy channeled into the endeavor. In simpler terms, it's about increasing the likelihood of a spell's success, assuming all other requisite and advantageous factors are adequately addressed. 

The significance of magical potency cannot be overstated. For practitioners, the objective is not merely to perform rituals but to execute them in a way that yields measurable results. In the same manner that a scientist would aim for exactness and reliability in an experiment, a magical practitioner should aim for a high degree of potency in their workings. Achieving this standard is more than a matter of personal pride or skill; it is about the responsible wielding of one's abilities to bring about change. When potency is elevated, the outcomes are more predictable, thereby enhancing the reliability of the magical practice as a whole. Moreover, it minimizes the risk of unintended consequences, which can range from inconsequential to potentially hazardous.

The Magical Potency of a Vast Majority of Publications, From Tumblr to Books

Candle Magic

Candle magic serves as an excellent entry point for neophytes in magical practice. Its allure lies in its straightforward design and uncomplicated mechanics, making it accessible for beginners. However, the simplicity that makes it attractive also serves as its Achilles heel. A plethora of publications, ranging from social media posts to books, frequently omit crucial details that are indispensable for ensuring the spell's effectiveness. For instance, many resources neglect to delve into the nuances of "intent," often misconstrued as mere desire, even though it is actually  one's personal truth. Furthermore, these publications have a tendency to reduce the complexity of the practice to mere lists of correspondences, thereby overlooking the intricate mechanics that govern how a spell functions. This dearth of comprehensive information is a disservice to newcomers who seek a robust understanding of the practice, and it impedes their ability to enhance the efficacy of their spells.

Candles & Twine "Cord Cutting"

Another practice that has gained considerable attention is the use of candles and twine for what is commonly referred to as "cord cutting." On the surface, this practice provides valuable insights into personal relationships. However, a closer examination reveals significant shortcomings. Most notably, the ritual fails to fulfill its purported function of severing emotional or psychic connections—what is commonly referred to as "cord cutting." Instead, it remains an exercise in symbolic action that lacks the mechanics necessary to bring about real change. The information provided in popular publications often restricts itself to symbolic associations, failing to offer a comprehensive guide to the mechanics or other vital elements that could make the practice genuinely effective. Consequently, any results are likely psychological in nature, rather than stemming from genuine magical activity, unless utilized as a tool for divination.

Sigil Magic

Sigil magic enjoys widespread popularity due to its accessibility and the relatively common understanding of its mechanics—albeit mainly within the framework of the psychological model. Its versatility is another strong suit, capable of serving as a supplementary element in various other magical practices. However, it's crucial to scrutinize the limitations of this method. The preponderance of popular sigil crafting techniques derives from, or modifies, the Spare method, which operates solely within the psychological model. In essence, this approach amounts to subconscious suggestion rather than authentic magical action. As a result, practitioners may find themselves constrained by a limited scope of magical efficacy. Furthermore, the lack of accessible information on alternative methodologies exacerbates the problem, leaving practitioners with a narrow, and sometimes misleading, understanding of what sigil magic can achieve. The ubiquity of this practice also means that misinformation and misinterpretation are rife, further muddying the waters for those seeking to deepen their understanding and improve their skills.

Increasing the Magical Potency of Common Practices

Candle Magic

To augment the efficacy of candle magic, a considerate approach is essential. First, it's crucial to identify the traditional symbolic associations of various elements involved in the spell and consider whether your own personal correspondences might be more effective. Next, identifying a central point of focus, or state of gnosis, can serve to concentrate your energy more efficiently. This focus should align with your own deeply-held beliefs or personal truths to maximize the spell's efficacy.

Another vital step involves contemplating the specific means by which the spell will manifest its effects. This doesn't merely involve wishing for a particular outcome, but rather planning out the logical steps and mechanisms that will make it happen. This also involves doing conscious energy work that goes beyond mere mental imagery. Instead, one should focus on manipulating energy via the subtle body and energetic senses, perhaps using breath work, gestures, and/or vocalizations as aids.

Identifying the emotional state that will best serve the spell is another significant aspect. This emotional state should be in harmony with your personal truths and can serve to fuel the spell's energy. Additionally, writing out the specific mechanics of how the spell will function can provide clarity and enhance focus during the actual performance. Memorizing all actions or incantations can also prevent disruptions that might break your concentration during the ritual.

Cord Cutting

For those looking to enhance the efficacy of cord-cutting rituals, a complete overhaul is likely required. 

Before the working, contemplate the means through which the spell will manifest its effects as to avoid any negative or harmful outcomes. Utilizing twine and a knife—or scissors, for those concerned about safety—can create a strong symbolic action that aids the spell. It's also beneficial to use correspondences, either mental or physical, that are directly connected to the target individuals. This requires either a strong personal knowledge of the individuals involved or a potent taglock to symbolize them.

Conscious energy work is again advisable, and this should be done without relying solely on mental imagery. Maintaining a state of focus, or gnosis, throughout the entire working is essential. To deepen your understanding and improve the potency of the ritual, you might also study various philosophies or religious teachings concerning the concept of fate or destiny. 

Identifying an emotional state that aligns with your personal truth can also serve to fuel the energy of the ritual. Once the primary cord-cutting action has been performed, the common chords and candles approach can be employed as a form of divination to gauge the likely effectiveness and manifestation of the spell.

Sigil Magic

For those looking to venture beyond the well-trodden path of the psychological model in sigil magic, a multitude of avenues are worth exploring. To start, one should consider researching or contemplating how sigils could function within different paradigms or frameworks. This might involve developing an entirely new method of sigil crafting that deviates from the commonly used Spare method.

Contemplating the mechanics of how a non-psychological sigil could function is equally important. This might involve studying different cultural practices or philosophies to gain new perspectives. Researching various methods of charging and activating a sigil can also yield valuable insights. Different modalities might be more effective depending on the specific nature of the application in which the sigil will be used.

When incorporating a sigil into another spell, it's crucial to think critically about how the two will interact and complement each other. Drawing the sigil while in a state of deep focus, or gnosis, can enhance its accuracy, If this state is backed by strong emotional energy that aligns with your personal truths, its momentum will increase. The precision of a sigil can also be highly increased by performing energy work consciously while drawing the sigil. Finally, selecting a method of charging and activation that complements both your own capabilities and the specific nature of the working can serve to greatly enhance the overall potency of the spell.

General Practices and Methods to Improve Magical Potency

Research, Study, Experimentation, and Recording

The cornerstone of enhancing magical potency lies in a rigorous approach that involves research, study, experimentation, and detailed recording. When conducting research, it's imperative to look beyond sources that merely resonate with you on a personal level; instead, aim for a diverse array of reputable sources to avoid cognitive bias. Subsequently, study these materials assiduously, revisiting them often to consider ways you might expand or refine the practices described.

The use of experimentation, formulating and documenting predictions about how a spell will manifest is invaluable. These predictions should be dated and revisited to assess the spell's effectiveness. Sharing these predictions with other practitioners can serve as a check against confirmation bias. Conducting low-stakes spells can also serve as a useful methodological testbed, helping you refine your approach based on outcomes.

Maintaining a log of your spells is an essential practice. This archival process will facilitate a retrospective analysis, enabling you to discern which variables contributed to or hindered a spell's effectiveness.

Being Critical

Critical thinking should permeate your magical practice, although it's best applied either before or after a working, not during, so as not to disrupt your focus. Discernment in planning a working can preemptively address potential issues. After the spell's completion, seek feedback from anyone aware of the working but not of its projected outcomes. In your analysis, consider mundane factors that could have influenced the result, recognizing that magical outcomes often manifest through seemingly ordinary means. Keep a record of both successes and failures, and understand that setbacks are educational opportunities, not indicators of personal inadequacy.

Helpful Practices

Regular meditation can serve as a foundational practice for enhancing focus and understanding your inner landscape. Additionally, action flow states can be achieved through rhythmic, lyric-free music coupled with physical activities in sync with the beat. This can facilitate a trance-like state beneficial for magical work. Shadow work, while in no way is necessary, can help you uncover deeply rooted personal truths, while the development of personal symbolic associations can facilitate more potent states of focused awareness.

Energy Work

Contrary to popular misconceptions, energy work is neither a form of mental imagery nor a misapplied concept often referred to as "intent." It involves a nuanced understanding of one's subtle body and its energy centers. Identifying your Wellsource—the origin point of your energy—can further deepen your practice. Mastering the art of manipulating this energy effectively can be a powerful tool in improving magical potency.

Appropriation and Decolonization

It's crucial to recognize the importance of decolonizing one's magical practice. This entails a conscious effort to eschew cultural appropriation and to respect the origins and contexts of various magical systems. While learning from diverse traditions can enrich your practice, it should never involve taking elements out of their cultural context for personal use without proper understanding and initiation. Decolonizing your magical practice is a significant endeavor that requires sustained commitment, self-awareness, and active engagement. Here are some steps to help you in this important journey:

Educate Yourself: The first step in decolonizing your practice is to become knowledgeable about the histories, cultures, and traditions from which various magical practices originate. This will help you understand the contexts in which these practices were developed and how they have been affected by colonization.

Acknowledge Origins: Always give credit to the cultures, traditions, and communities from which certain practices and tools originate. This is not only a matter of respect but also a way to counteract the erasure that often occurs when practices are appropriated.

Assess Your Sources: Evaluate the materials you are using to learn about magical practices. Are they written or produced by individuals from within the tradition? Do they provide historical and cultural context? Are they respectful and do they avoid exoticizing or commodifying the practices they describe?

Reflect on Motivations and Entitlement: Examine your reasons for incorporating specific practices or tools into your own practice. Are you doing it because it's "trendy" or because you feel entitled to pick and choose from other cultures? Such motivations can be indicative of a colonizer mindset.

Avoid Cultural Cherry-Picking: Engaging deeply with another culture's practice means more than just adopting its magical or spiritual elements. It involves an understanding and respect for the culture as a whole, including its history, struggles, and contributions.

Engage in Dialogue: If you are interested in a practice that originates from a culture different from your own, try to engage in a respectful dialogue with individuals who belong to that culture. Seek their perspectives and listen to their experiences, and ask for their insights into ethical engagement with their traditions.

Prioritize Marginalized Voices: Elevate the voices and teachings of individuals from marginalized communities who are sharing their own traditions. Their perspectives are often sidelined but are crucial for a genuine understanding of these practices.

Financial Support: Whenever possible, support practitioners from the culture of interest by paying for their services, buying their products, or donating to causes they recommend. Economic empowerment is a form of reparative justice.

Revise and Reassess Continually: Decolonization is not a one-time action but an ongoing process. Keep updating your practices as you gain more knowledge and understanding. This may mean abandoning practices or tools that you now recognize as inappropriate for you to use.

Be Accountable: If you make a mistake—and most people do when they are learning—own it. Apologize, learn from it, and make amends if possible. Then take steps to ensure you do not repeat the same mistake.

Advocate and Educate: Use your platform, however big or small, to educate others about the importance of decolonizing magical practices. Share resources, engage in conversations, and challenge instances of appropriation you encounter.

Practice Humility: Recognize that the process of decolonization involves continual learning and that you won't have all the answers. Be open to criticism and willing to change your viewpoints and practices accordingly.

How Appropriation Negatively Affects Magical Potency

The act of appropriation in magical practices not only raises ethical concerns but also has deleterious effects on the potency of the rituals involved. One of the most glaring issues arises from the isolation of a practice from its original cultural context. Traditions, rites, and spells often have deeply ingrained cultural meanings and histories. When extracted from their native milieu, these practices lose the richness and nuance that contribute to their efficacy. The symbols, words, and actions employed in a ritual are often deeply tied to the specific geography, language, and folklore of its origin. Stripping away this context can dilute the ritual's power, rendering it a mere simulacrum of its original form.

Another significant concern pertains to the connections with spirits and ancestors that are inherent in many magical systems. These relationships are often built over generations and are rooted in specific cultural narratives, myths, and practices. When one appropriates these systems without a genuine link to the cultural lineage, the connection to these spirits and ancestors becomes tenuous at best. In some cases, this could even be seen as a form of spiritual trespassing, which not only questions the ethical standing of the practitioner but also diminishes the effectiveness of the ritual. These ancestral and spiritual links act as conduits for magical energy, and without them, the practice becomes hollow.

Lastly, the issue of alignment with one's personal truth cannot be ignored. Each individual has a unique set of beliefs, experiences, and perspectives that inform their magical practice. When one adopts practices from another culture without proper understanding or respect, there is a high likelihood that these borrowed elements will not align well with one's personal truths. This dissonance can create an internal discord, which in turn weakens the potency of the magical working. A harmonious alignment with one's core beliefs and experiences often serves as the bedrock upon which effective magical practice is built.

Implementation of the Concepts Discussed

The efficacy of magical practices can be significantly bolstered by adeptly incorporating cognitive techniques related to memory and repetition. One such method involves capitalizing on short-term memory. After assimilating beneficial information, executing a straightforward magical working immediately afterward can aid in embedding the newly acquired knowledge. This rapid recall and application essentially serve as the anchoring of the information more firmly by immediate utilization. This technique leverages the brain's natural propensity for retaining recently processed information and puts it to practical use, thus enhancing the likelihood of a successful magical outcome.

Subconscious memory plays a similarly pivotal role in the refinement of magical practices. The consistent and repeated consumption of relevant information can precipitate a subconscious framework that thereafter influences your methodologies. Over time, this reservoir of deeply ingrained knowledge becomes an almost instinctive guide during magical workings. The more frequently you engage with this material, the more it seeps into your subconscious, ultimately serving as an internal compass that steers your practices toward greater potency. Hence, the diligent study of reputable materials can lay the groundwork for a more effective and nuanced magical practice.

Repetition, both cognitive and practical, stands as another invaluable tool in solidifying one's magical practices. Repetitive engagement with the material, whether it's through written summaries, vocal articulation, or mental rehearsal, can fortify the neural pathways associated with that specific information. Furthermore, the regular enactment of magical workings that incorporate these concepts can engender a form of habituation. These practices, through repetition, become ingrained behaviors, thereby increasing the ease and fluidity with which they can be executed. This habitual nature, in turn, contributes to an overall enhancement of magical potency.

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Cosmicaquamarie

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[postcrashcurly]

A short list of Jimmy headcanons I've been tinkering with for a bit. CW: OCD and Hoarding Behavior, Trichophagia, Body Image, and a lot of other triggers tbh it's far too long to list just prepare for anything.

One. On earth, Jimmy has a hoarding problem that stems from not having a lot as a kid. His dad was physically abusive and his mom was emotionally absent, so he wasn't allowed any privacy, personal belongings, or comfort objects. So as an adult he keeps EVERYTHING. Every single birthday card, every receipt, boxes, old clothes, certain food wrapping items and empty cans. It's chaos but it's somewhat organized, and piles move around here and there. It's not necessarily *gross* in the traditional sense. There is no rats or roaches or anything like that- its just overwhelming to the outside observer. It has the potential to be much worse depending.

He compulsively reorganizes his belongings but he'll be sent into a blind rage if he feels he's lost something. Piles move back and forth from the living room and bed room. Certain objects of interest are always within eye-shot, specifically things like gifts or photos. He has a particular affinity towards gift-cards and enjoys the elaborate designs (even though he pretends he doesn't).

Jimmy gets incredibly defensive when anyone offers to help him clean up or move things around and worries greatly that someone may steal from him. The only person who's ever seen the inside of his place is Curly, and he's also the only person Jimmy has ever left unattended in his home. Every so often Curly is able to nudge him to pack things in different areas so it isn't such a fire hazard (because of the hoarding, Jimmy has a massive fear of house fires and losing his things), and so he can have better access to rooms.

The only "clean" areas are the kitchen and bathroom, and they are remarkably clean. This is something Curly doesn't understand but doesn't really bother to question because he knows Jimmy needs to have things a certain way.

Two. As a child Jimmy developed really poor coping mechanisms to deal with his home life. He used to eat his own hair, and because of this his parents always had his hair cut as short as possible. This is why he keeps it long as an adult, and even though he doesn't eat/swallow it anymore he likes to suck and bite on the ends sometimes when he's self-soothing.

Three. Jimmy struggles with his body image and isn't quite sure what he looks like. If you asked him to draw a picture of himself, it wouldn't resemble him well. He feels that he looks much smaller, weaker, and uglier than he really is, for which he overcompensates. This also means he is a lot rougher when making physical contact with people.

It is also why a lot of his clothes are ill fitting.

Four. Jimmy loved cats when he was younger. When he was a kid he used sneak around his parents to feed them dinner leftovers. He was particularly close with a little tabby that cried at his bedroom window every night and he'd always sneak out to pet her. His father grew sick of the strays hanging around the property and put out poisoned food, which unfortunately took out his tabby. To this day, he blames himself for making the cats comfortable enough to take food from his house.

Five. Jimmy has experimented with many drugs and had mostly positive experiences with them. He's particularly fond of Kratom.

Six. Jimmy doesn't try to understand people, he only learns what they expect of him and changes his approach depending on the person. Everyone is so vastly different that he struggles to keep up appearances with most people, so he often latches onto one person (Curly) and puts most of his energy into that.

Seven. Jimmy is the type to give up a hobby if he isn't good at it right off the bat.

Eight. Jimmy can't swim, he doesn't want to swim, and you cannot make him swim. It stems from having a fear of water, specifically fully submerging his head/face.

Nine. Jimmy has food sensory issues. Sometimes he even needs to spit out things he likes because his body refuses to swallow it. To avoid this in public spaces, he takes very small bites and eats very slowly. He orders comfort meals and if he wants to try something new, he'll just pick of the plate of who he's with.

Ten. Jimmy is a Red Bull guy, specifically the Coconut Berry one. This is very oddly specific but it just feels right to me.

Y'all should send me asks with some of your Jimmy headcanons (if you want) because I love to hear other peoples opinions and perceptions of his character, especially if you don't agree with mine I'd love to hear why!

[stars-obsession-pit]

Right Actions, Wrong Target

So i just had an idea…

What if the GIW’s course of action was actually right?

Or, well, more accurately: what if it was mostly right for the situation they started in, and their main failures were in where they took it from there.

Expanding on my ideas/thought process here:

So in this idea, the GIW was founded in response to a specific discovery by the government:

An underground pool of a strange substance that didn’t resemble any known chemical. It glowed a toxic green, perpetually churned as if boiling, could be lethal to the touch for living things, and could cause things to spontaneously animate in the area around it.

Stagnant, corrupted ectoplasm (not that they had any idea what ectoplasm even was at the time).

Those original researchers encountered ectoplasmic entities around the pit, but not ones like those in Amity Park.

Inhuman things.

Shades whose memories of life had all but faded except for the strongest emotions (usually negative emotions like anger, pain, or fear). Animals driven mad by the pit’s influence. Reanimated food and other organic material.

Things that objectively were dangerous to normal people and that couldn’t be meaningfully communicated with.

So, lacking any better option to respond (or even the knowledge of if such a path was possible at all), they set protocols to contain (and, potentially, dispose of) the entities.

And this is perhaps a bit of a tangent but their ridiculous uniform cleanliness standards could also have a justification too.

The unknown substance would eat through or change just about any material they tested it on. Considering the dangers they had already witnessed it pose to living things (never mind the possibility of other long-term side effects), they decided they had to be extraordinarily careful with their safety precautions.

Thus, incredibly thorough decontamination protocols were set up and strictly adhered to.

White clothes were the best option to allow easy identification of any stains. For agents in the field without proper equipment to run a full scan, it was safer to treat all dirt like a potential hazard.

And so on.

Their policies may not have been perfect, but were created with actual logic behind them in response to their situation at the time.

But then when they expanded outwards to research other similar phenomena, that’s where they truly failed, both as scientists and as basic moral people.

They didn’t adapt to new data. Rules that had been created with scientific reasoning behind them became instead a form of gospel and a means of exerting control over others.

They declared that all ghosts were unfeeling monsters to be locked up, studied, and disposed of (despite all evidence to the contrary). Cleanliness changed from a precaution to a ritual to be practiced unfailingly in all circumstances as a sign of loyalty (thus the “cleanliness breach” thing the agents comment on in the show in a few places).

[snaileer]

Free advertising Part 3

Parts 1 & 2

If one has spent a decent amount of time in an engineering lab, perhaps even been raised above (and in) such a lab, it would come as no surprise that the construction of potentially hazardous items can sometimes be accidental.

Danny’s teachers and classmates evidently do not share this sentiment when he attempts to leave their group to disarm the pipe-bomb in front of them during their field trip to the Gotham railroad museum.

Danny doesn’t get it.

“Once you accidentally make one, you figure out pretty fast how to unmake one,” Danny shrugs in reason, it’s not like it’s hard. Well, it’ll probably be a bit different because it’s not from spare pieces of a microwave but still!

“Microwaves don’t have spare pieces, Danny,” One of the chaperones says. Oh, she must have heard Danny’s mumble.

“Sure they do! Everything has spare pieces if you do it right!” Danny smiles, “Here, watch this!” Danny lunges for the bomb, dodging a reaching arm with practiced expertise.

Once he has his hands on it, he’s pulling his Fenton family goggles from his pocket and the mini toolkit his parents got -made- him for his 12th birthday. Complete with a laser cutter!

Danny uses the magnification of the goggles to get a closer look at the design, holding it up to his face. The timer seems to be a separate connection… hmm.

Danny turns his ear to it, shaking vigorously, but he pauses as shouts sound from behind him sitting criss-cross on the floor.

Except…when he turns around, nothing’s different except the group looking startled and pressing themselves farther against the wall.

“Nightingale!” Damian hisses from the herd, “What are you doing!?!”

Danny tilts his head in confusion, vision tinted slightly green through his goggles, “I’m..deconstructing it??” Danny looks down as he unscrews a few pieces, listening for the disconnection of the timer, “Thought that was obvious,” He grumbles.

Danny pulls his goggles to his forehead to get a better gauge of the wire colors before pulling two of them out. The timer display turns off.

The group seems to sag in relief as the red numbers go dead.

Danny barely notices, looking intently at the object as he turns it in his hands.

Hmmmm.

He flips his goggles back down and reaches blindly for his toolkit. Danny continues unscrewing, grabbing a different screwdriver and his mini weld set, before setting two metal grids to the side and holding it back up.

“See! Spare parts!” He says with a smile.

The green goggle tint prevents him from seeing his chaperone’s face drain of color.

It does not prevent him seeing Batman crash through the window three seconds later.

Tags for those who asked:

@channajen @halfblackwolfdemon @epilepticnerd @busterkeel @samgirl98 @quirky-gardener @kitsunesflames @ace-aro-agender @whathehe11 @56thingsinaname @overtherose @i-dont-want-to-think-of-a-name @i-always-say-yea @the-legal-shipper @aph-mable @rowanaway-fromthisbs @punderfulfandoms @sjrose1216 @akikkobara @stargirl1331 @somecrappyclone @decadentbatbagelscissors @thatonegaybitch68 @cyber-geist @girlnic @seraphinedemort @alcorbearson @meira-3919 @joseph557 @cutelittlebeanie @fandomnerd103 @avelnfear @readerzj @snorlaxly-tired @thedragonqueen1998 @serasvictoria02

[apod]

2024 May 25

Manicouagan Impact Crater from Space Image Credit: NASA, International Space Station Expedition 59

Explanation: Orbiting 400 kilometers above Quebec, Canada, planet Earth, the International Space Station Expedition 59 crew captured this snapshot of the broad St. Lawrence River and curiously circular Lake Manicouagan on April 11. Right of center, the ring-shaped lake is a modern reservoir within the eroded remnant of an ancient 100 kilometer diameter impact crater. The ancient crater is very conspicuous from orbit, a visible reminder that Earth is vulnerable to rocks from space. Over 200 million years old, the Manicouagan crater was likely caused by the impact of a rocky body about 5 kilometers in diameter. Currently, there is no known asteroid with a significant probability of impacting Earth in the next century. Each month, NASA’s Planetary Defense Coordination Office releases an update featuring the most recent figures on near-Earth object close approaches, and other facts about comets and asteroids that could pose a potential impact hazard with Earth.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap240525.html

[rip-headphones-users]

My Headcannons for how Infected and Kasper operate

Buckle up, this is a long post. Thinking about how characters function in relation to the world around them is basically a hobby of mine, so expect more. (I have others planned for both lampert and unpleasant at the very least)

(Not ship related) (angst heavy sorry)

Kasper’s infection is a brain-rooted/cognito-hazardous parasite

He got it after purposely ignoring a chainmail curse, both as a sort of “fuck around and find out” as well as an outright form of self-harm/self-sabotage.

The parasite is the one that primarily controls all the conscious actions of infected, while kasper now acts sub-consciously.

Its less of a split-mind situation and more of a Venom + Eddie or Gundam + Pilot situation they are two separate entities inhabiting the same body that can potentially act at the same time

It just so happens that the parasite from the chainmail curse has VERY similar desires/interests/motivations to Kasper, so the host/parasite relationship actually works very well.

Infected accidentally makes Kasper lose a decent chunk of weight after it takes over, due to it not being able to feel when Kasper is hungry and forgetting to let him eat

Kasper and Infected can be addressed separately (Lampert, UnpleasantGradient, Folly and maybe a few others know this) and Kasper tends to choose not to respond due to his own apathy, instead opting to let Infected take the lead.

Being able to respawn/no permadeath on the regretevator is the reason why Kasper opted to infect himself, as he saw it as the next closest thing to death/suicide.

Allowing infected to enter his mind has radically reduced Kasper’s lifespan. (He’d be lucky if he made it to his late 30’s)

His nose bleeds when Kasper and infected try to act at the same time

Infected is only transferrable via chainmail

Infected doesn’t feel any of the bodily necessities that kasper has, so its not uncommon for him to collapse of exhaustion, dehydration, hunger, ect. If someone doesn’t remind him.

Infected doesnt feel pain either

Kasper feels it though. A lot.

In fact the whole process of infected entering his mind was incredibly painful as is.

Infected isn’t the reason why things in the elevator/on his own body suddenly lose their texture, neither of them know why that happens now.

They personally aren’t physically effected by it and both find it cool, so neither are bothered.

It’s probably just the result of infected’s malware (thats only technically supposed to effect machines) managing to attach itself to a human. Or maybe Kasper could do that and never previously knew. Who knows. ;)

Kasper/infected can phase through objects that are textureless, including parts of his own body. Anything else will collide as it normally would, and take damage.

Infected will always talk with full leetspeak, (L13k D1$) while Kasper will only have one letter/number substitution (L1ke Th1s)

UG unintentionally named infected that. Basically just looked at Kasper, who had just let a parasite into his mind, and looked at the chainmail virus on his computer, and it went “huh… Bro’s Infected”

Bro is, in fact, infected.

[tristepinguino]

Mario Kart World Detail Observations

I'm normal.

There has been more than one instance in which the game's Courses have been shown on the World map. I've only recently learned to count, but it looks like there's 29 of them. An odd number, in more ways than one. But it didn't escape notice that there was no sight or word of Rainbow Road. ...Until the "Direct".

Even so, 30 isn't divisible by 4.

Crown City appears in both the Mushroom Cup and the Shell Cup.

The accompanying thumbnails are different, so they may be different Courses through the same area. The route to Crown City will be different, at least. That said, Crown City may not be the only Course to appear in more than one Cup.

The segment of the Direct hinting at Rainbow Road shows a shot of an object rising into the sky. The position of the camera in this shot seems to be in the opening of the bay south of Peach Stadium, facing south. The rising object in question appears to be a trophy.

In the Support Features segment of the Direct, we get a view of a rather paltry vehicle selection menu. It consists of a single page of 11 vehicles and 1 ? space. Could this be the starting selection? And if so, could the preceding menu be the starting character selection? It seems to consist of 4 pages of 12 characters (at most) and we are only shown the first page. But where are Daisy and Rosalina? Obviously, they could very well be on a subsequent page, but the character order shown here is odd.

This also confirms that vehicles (at the very least) are unlocked by collecting coins again. It's worth mentioning that World features a 20 coin maximum and new coin-focused items.

One thing that has not been very demonstrated is the addition of cosmetic unlockables that have been spotted in gameplay. On the vehicle selection screen, the "+" button can be pressed to, presumably, change this cosmetic. Going forward, I will be referring to these as "decals".

The purpose these serve is unclear, but may simply be a matter of customization. They often appear wherever your character or player information is indicated. Many of the decals seem to be based on the game's diegetic sponsors.

The option to select a decal was not available to those who played a demo of the game. As such, examples of decals other than the default in use are few. In addition, some vehicles do not seem to feature space(s) for a decal (including the Biddybuggy and that blue snowmobile-like vehicle).

When an outfit is obtained via Dash Food for the first time, an accompanying pop-up is displayed. Something similar appears when the player is transformed into a character for the first time via Kamek.

There is a prevailing idea that characters who appear as audience members or course hazards are also likely to become available as playable characters. That said, who might we potentially see join the ranks?

And why stop at Cow? Why not Zebra, Giraffe, Elephant, Ostrich, Camel, Bison, Moose, Armadillo, Dinosaur, etc.?

Miscellaneous

Other little things, some of which I don't have images of, and some of which I have no commentary for:

Binoculars appear, resembling their appearance in Odyssey

The way DK strikes the ? Block item resembles his upward punch in Bananza

Looks like most Yoshi's locations have signage displaying the Dash Food they offer

Tires change visually when driving off-road, increasing in size

The way characters throw Spiny Shells is really funny; Blue Shells are thrown with intent to kill

An item's remaining uses/time is now represented by a "fluid" in your item slot

Landing on another driver grants you a bounce from which you can perform tricks

Getting rear-ended seems to grand you a boost?

Explosions create waves in bodies of water that can tricked off of

The star score/ranking for Cups returns

One aspect of the game I am very excited for is the music, but I wonder how it will work. Courses likely each have their own dedicated music tracks (like in the previous entry), but what about everywhere else? And there's a lot of everywhere else. This might account for the assortment of music heard so far.

I decided against speaking on the Courses others have spotted that have yet to be officially presented (in part 'cuz this post is long enough already). Additional info may be found in image descriptions.

If you have any evidence you'd like to share, please feel free!

[livingforstars]

Earth Nears Asteroid Toutatis - January 20th, 1997.

"On November 29th, 1996, the Earth came within 3.3 million miles of the asteroid Toutatis. Above is a computer-simulated picture of this spectacle from the surface of Toutatis (a 2.5 degree field of view looking toward Earth). In Earth's sky, Toutatis appeared only as a faint object moving against a background of stars. Also known as Earth-crossing asteroid 4179, Toutatis is in an eccentric 4 year orbit, which moves it from the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, to just inside Earth's orbit. When the Earth passed near it in 1992, Toutatis was imaged by radar and seen to be two irregularly-shaped lumps, perhaps joined by a narrow neck. This bizarre object is up to 1.5 miles wide, 2.9 miles long, and is tumbling through space. Studies of Toutatis and other Earth-crossing asteroids help reveal connections between the Solar System's meteorites, main-belt asteroids and comets. These wayward asteroids also offer tantalising targets for robotic exploration and, over time, represent potential collision hazards for planet Earth!"

[postcanon-ii-hazard-au]

ASKS ARE CLOSED

after the past contestants of ii start fearing permanent death, Oj takes the matter into his own hands, to keep everyone in the hotel safe... but isn't he doing a bit much...?

(hello! this au takes place after ii18 and the hotel is rebuilt (which I may explain later). in this au Oj decides he's responsible for everyone's safety and starts taking precautions that are a bit overboard. but, until fear dies down, there's a lot more rules in place. a bunch of former contestants are labeled as hazards that are potentially risky for the more "fragile" contestants. more info will come later.

sorry in advance for any and all potential mischaracterization, I'm trying my best!)

EVERYTHING BELOW THE CUT

Hotel residents Oj labeled as "hazards" + notes + extra (askable characters! But feel free to ask any other ii char and I'll try my best):

Chemical hazards:

Test tube

Liquid hazards*:

Oj

Test tube

Toilet

Fire hazards*:

Paintbrush

Candle

Sharp object hazards:

Knife**

**no longer an issue

Explosion hazards:

Bomb

Volume hazards***:

Microphone

Tea kettle****

****convinced oj that she'd have to get really angry to make the tea kettle noise. almost sounded like she was threatening him

Toilet

Salt

*(main focus of the au)

***Residents that are known to have high volumes are also labeled as hazards for the safety of glass residents. The group was made to keep an eye on Mic, but other... loud residents were added later.

(other askables +) new safety programs and those participating:

Anger management:

Paintbrush, Candle*, Silver Spoon, YinYang, etc.

Oj won't admit it, but anger management was only made for Paintbrush, despite its later popularity. Their anger issues are the only reason they're a fire hazard after all, so this was the solution to reduce the chances of them getting angry. Whether it's working or not is debatable.

*Candle, upon being classified as a fire hazard, was put in AM alongside Paintbrush. Though she quickly proved to be better as a teacher, replacing Goo, whose analogies weren't exactly helping anyone calm down.

Silver Spoon was not labeled as a hazard yet started attending classes after a few petty arguments. Though he was initially reluctant, he seemed not to complain after finding out Candle was leading it.

YinYang's behavior, though improved, has landed them both in trouble occasionally. AM was more so a suggestion.

There are more attendees, but they either aren't regulars or don't have a good enough reason to be listed

Lifering's "Life Guard" program:

Lifering volunteered to help prevent any accidents when there was no other reasonable solution. This includes sticking closer to "hazardous" objects. He's been spending the majority of time just being in the same room as Candle. Besides that, Lifering has generally been available immediately in case of emergency. (But then again, when was he not?"

Anti-Mold:

Food objects are susceptible to molding, especially if they eat moldy food, so everyone has been asked to leave dates on anything in the fridge. They aren't sure what they'd do if someone did start molding, but it's better to prevent it all together.

(Tags key!):

#ii hazards answer (ask tag)

#ii hazards au (general tag)

#ooc (out of character/canon)

(Post key!):

(no posts yet...)

[sunderingstars]

simulated universe addendum: ace trash digger

— i can’t believe i came across this occurrence literally the day after i posted my simulated universe analysis (talk about timing), so here’s me yapping about it!

— written during 2.6

— word count: short, list format

not only is this occurrence in every single simulated universe update (wow!) but it seems to be a more belobog-connected piece of potential sampo material!

— “he” pronouns. matches with sampo koski as we know him.

— he’s carrying a trashcan and the name of the occurence is “ace trash digger.” this is a pretty easy link to belobog since that’s the planet that has the most trashcan-related shenanigans. also, since he’s carrying it i can almost see the trashcan as symbolic of belobog itself — i.e. sampo and his little garbage planet he cares about and likes to carry around.

— “treasured trashcan.” once again, i can pretty easily see the trashcan as belobog, so the occurrence might actually be referencing sampo and his “treasured jarilo-vi.”

— he has a collection of “pitiful love poems.” this could connect to sampo’s theme of love, particularly broken hearts, as seen in things like his e4 and heart-bomb burst. these love poems may be written to aha as part of some lingering attachment, or may also be written towards belobog itself since he seems to care about the place so much.

— “put your waste in it, and the items will evolve into an advanced awareness, then come running out energetically on their own!” if the trashcan is symbolic of belobog and the person is supposed to be sampo, i would take a doll theory reading on this. with how much doll theory relies on the “betrayal” of a creator towards its creation, i almost see this as meta commentary on how aha may have betrayed or “discarded” sampo.

— it makes sense, after all, that aha would get bored with their creations quite easily (at least given the whole worm debacle), and what else to do than to discard it? it may be that sampo was not always like this, but evolved to become more “aware” after being abandoned on jarilo-vi, which aha may have seen as just some backwater junkyard snow planet.

— (honestly, the idea of jarilo-vi being seen as a cosmic junkyard is so funny to me. like, aha basically did the equivalent of driving their pickup truck to the scrap heap at the edge of town and tossing everything in. very mundane to them, totally traumatizing to sampo.)

— from there, i would interpret this occurrence as saying sampo slowly rejoined the wider universe — i.e. “running out energetically” on his own. this likely included becoming part of the masked fools or trying to re-contact aha. (alternatively, this could be what is going on currently in canon, with belobog and, by extension, sampo, becoming more present on the galactic stage.) this may have actually surprised the aeon themself (if they even cared anymore), as it would essentially be the equivalent of throwing out a stuffed animal halfway across town, only for it to get up, walk, and find its way back to your house weeks later talking like “why have you forsaken me, father?”. this may even be how sampo became an emanator — aha may have found the whole situation so hilarious they decided to promote sampo on the spot.

— overall, if the trashcan is meant to be belobog and sampo is meant to be the waste (like “hazardous waste” in the friendship is magic event), then this occurrence may be hinting at sampo’s backstory of being discarded by aha on jarilo-vi.

— hunt option (swarm disaster). mean, why are we being so mean?! i would never steal from sampo, i’m simply built different.

— remembrance option (swarm disaster). “you recall the past lives of these discarded objects” implies a sort of sentience and agency. even though the objects may not be at “advanced awareness” yet, they clearly still have past experiences and lives. comparatively, i would say this may mean that sampo, although only recently evolving into a unique kind of sentience, has always been “alive.” for me, i see this as gaining personhood, or perhaps new perspectives on life. he may have started as a toy with no real agency of his own, but he’s been able to find some sort of autonomy for himself on belobog, even being able to reach beyond the love and find the “hate” for a creator who treated him cruelly.

— erudition option (gold and gears). erudition once again! man, erudition and elation love going hand-in-hand. “even trash has its unique ‘value’” seems to send a deeper, general message. not only is it the erudition doing what the erudition tends to do when confronted with something new — find its value, either through experimentation or dismantling — but it communicates the idea that even though something may be seen as worthless or forgotten, it still holds purpose. even though sampo may be seen in the eyes of his creator as a “discarded doll,” he still has value. he’s still a person. he still has his own hopes, thoughts, and dreams. although the erudition likely means this phrase in a more troublesome “let’s take him apart to see what he’s made of” way, a nice message can still be gleaned.

— normal option. as with all other options, there’s a big theme of “transaction,” or exchanging items for more. i don’t have a lot to say about it, other than it fits right in with sampo’s con-man trade and propensity for bargaining.

— i found it a bit surprising at first that there was no elation option, given how that would’ve been a more solid link to sampo, but perhaps there isn’t supposed to be. perhaps, aha stuffed toy having an elation option is meant to be symbolic of a time aha cared enough to turn their gaze of sampo, but here the occurrence is dealing with the period of and after his abandonment. in this case, there may be no elation option because aha quite simply does not care enough for there to be one. he’s all alone. sad :((

overall, i can’t believe this one almost slipped under my nose while doing my simulated universe analysis! the irony is not lost on me that i almost passed over it in a similar way to others in-universe; i guess the “cosmic junkyard” planet really did its job !! i think this has some nice little tidbits for the potential timeline of doll theory, and gives some insight into what sampo’s “betrayal” might have been! (also, of course aha would do something like this. of course lol)

thanks for reading!

© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.