#FOUND PC IN TRASH PILE

[robryebeach]

APPLE COMPUTER FOUND TRASH PILE. #applecomputers #tech #pc

[nhaneh]

was handed four old desktop PCs by a guy in town who asked me to look and see if there's anything worth saving on any of them before deleting any contents from them before they get thrown away - told him I might keep any that seem particularly interesting and save them from the trash pile.

Turns out two of them still use the old AT-standard power supplies - one Pentium 120 MHz, one AMD K6 266 MHz. I might just have found one or more perfect DOS/Win9x retro machines haha.

Wonder if my old Voodoo 1 still works...

[ralkana]

Tuesday's numbers! (Explanation of challenge here.)

Worked on the second of my two doom rooms last night. Yet another dresser full of clothes and sentimental items, but I can't complain too much because it's all mine this time.

I went through about 4 1/2 drawers of the 6, and the one drawer I didn't get into at all just has my Nintendo, my Sega Genesis, and all the games. Which I guess I'm going to try and sell eventually? I don't know.

Anyway. So. Many. Socks. OMG.

The pictures are not very exciting today. Not that they usually are anyway, now that I think about it. But they're just kinda piled up in the middle of the very small open space on the floor of the room.

I found 50 pcs of trash, including many, many, many pairs of socks and underwear.

I also found 69 things to donate, including many, many pairs of socks.

I also found a bunch of pairs of pajama pants I need to try on, but I forgot about them until just now. So I'll either have more to donate tonight, or I'll have new (old) pajama pants. Win win!

And remember like a week or so ago, I went through all my reusable bags and decluttered some of them? Yeah. Not so much, I found another bag of bags. So I'm going to have to go through those, too.

There is also another giant box of shoes to go through (again, can't complain, they're all mine), so I might do that tonight as well. I'm sure most of them are trash.

Anyway, enough rambling. Last night's numbers are 50 + 69 = 119. Not bad for 50 minutes of work!

Pulling the 48 post-it, as the largest one left.

The running total is 1,790. Less than 50 items to reach my original 90-day goal!

[thesims4blogger]

The Sims 4: New Game Patch (September 26th, 2023)

There’s a new game update for The Sims 4! This one comes in preparation for The Sims 4 Home Chef Hustle Stuff Pack release on Thursday (September 28th).

As it’s been previously announced, the patch brings a new design for the “cook” menu, for easier navigation. It also allows sims to bake cupcakes in any oven (#FreeTheCupcakes).Advertisement

The update also brings a few bug fixes, as promised on the latest Laundry List.

If you have auto updates enabled in Origin’s “Application Settings”, the game will auto-update once you open Origin. If you have auto-updates disabled, you will need to manually update by clicking the game in your library.

To ensure your game is up to date, check the game version found in Documents > EA > The Sims 4 > GameVersion.txt. Your game should now read: PC: 1.101.290.1030 / Mac: 1.101.290.1230 / Console: Version 1.81.2

Let them eat (cup)cakes! Speaking of sweets… this update includes freeing the sweetest treat, cupcakes! Your Sims can now prepare delicious cupcakes by using an oven, in addition to the traditional method of using the Whipped Dream Cupcake Factory. Plus, Toddlers can now experience the joy of eating a delicious cupcake.

We’ve delved deep into cooking, recipes, and ingredients. Expect to see the quality of food that’s prepared better reflect your Sim’s skill level, current mood, and appliance quality. Additionally, recipes across the Cooking, Gourmet Cooking, and Baking skills have been updated to better utilize more of the expected ingredients of the food that’s being prepared. One example of these updates: Players who own both Cottage Living and Get To Work can use the sugar, flour, and egg ingredients from the former with the baking recipes from the latter. The updates don’t stop there. We gave the Cool Kitchen Stuff Pack some love too! I scream, you scream, now Child Sims can scream for Ice Cream! Child Sims can now use the Sweet Tooth Ice Cream Machine.

One last update we’d like to tell you about relates to the Small Appliances in game. We’ve added the ability for many different small appliances to be dragged around within the game world while in Live Mode, as well as being able to place small appliances into your Sim’s inventory to take them with you on your travels. Find the full list of compatible appliances below:

The Wavescatter

The Food Annihilator

The Omniwaver

The Schmapple Micro

Luxe Drink Tray

Sugar Kane Popcorn Popper

Summer Drink Tray

Sweet Tooth Ice Cream Machine

Fountain of Mirth

The Gravy Fountain Mark IV Stand

Vintage Glamour Beverage Fountain

Blazin’ Ladles’ Over The Counter Oven

“No Space” Electric Oven Space Saver

Bug Fixes The Sims 4

Garden plants now should remain as plants instead of sometimes crumbling into piles of dirt. Be strong and live your best life, garden buds!

Visual effects for Sim Traits in Create a Sim have returned from an unplanned summer holiday.

Some text was updated to properly gush about Newborns.

Take a big whiff, we’re growing trash! Trash Fruit will now properly grow from any pile of trash outside, no matter its source.

It was getting a little lonely out there! Sims will once again receive calls and invitations from other Sims and NPCs.

City Living

We all were very hungry working on this update. But not so hungry that vegetarians would eat meat! Your Vegetarian Sims should no longer grab meals that upset their stomachs when using the “Get Leftovers” interaction.

Gelatin Rainbow Cake isn’t Vegetarian?! We’ve updated a lot of recipes that weren’t properly flagged as Vegetarian-Safe – and some that shouldn’t have been flagged in the first place.

Seasons

Bees will no longer become Enraged or Irritated after applying Mite Treatment. They will BEE a little more grateful to their caretaker Sim!

Eco Lifestyle

Photographs taken following today’s patch will no longer turn black when stored in the Storage Box.

Cottage Living

Some vegetables weren’t being recognized as vegetables for recipe ingredients! We’ve fixed this; make as many vegetable based dishes as your heart desires!

Now your Sims can make more informed choices on if they want to suffer the consequences of eating dairy when they are Lactose Intolerant. We’ve done a large update to food for a more accurate Lactose Free experience.

High School Years

Set your boundaries! There should be fewer invitations to become BFF with other Sims.

Growing Together

Photographs taken following today’s patch will no longer turn black when stored in the Basic Keepsake Box and the Truly Ornate Keepsake Box.

Horse Ranch

Ranch Hands now stay hired until you dismiss them.

Riders going from using Horse Barrels or Horse Jumps to doing something on foot no longer sometimes linger on horseback.

Movie Hangout

When using the Sugar Kane Popcorn Popper, Sims will now have visibility into what Cooking skill level they must reach to be able to prepare the various popcorn recipes.

[crownedinmarigolds]

A write up I did for Kolya while I had him on a Vampire the Masquerade server! He's one of the few male PCs I actually have so I love him kind of in an extra special way. Story under the cut!

-

It is Thursday, or Friday eve as the white-collars put it. Kansas City oddly enough has a bustling nightlife, but it's a bit quiet right before the weekend. Kolya walks the streets with a loping gait as he feels the tug of hunger in the back of his throat. He has been given domain by the Prince, so Shawnee is his to prowl within reason, but it still makes him feel uneasy to hunt here.

He hasn’t had his own real estate in quite some time, perhaps ever. He can recall back in the days when he served with his falaqi that the Leopards of his clan found out about his heritage and offered him his own seat at the table when they reclaimed the Holy land… but that frankly sounds arduous and unappetizing. To be a wanderer appeals to him much more, but due to the limitations of everything he is now, he's stuck. And here it is like he was trapped in a mud pit. Crawling out of here will not be impossible, but some shoes may get left behind along the way. Too much goes wrong when you get too comfortable and let yourself sink.

Kolya’s eyes glance at the small groups and couples that pass him. A few are apparent in their nervousness, but for the most part the kine barely notice him. It's nice. It's lonely. It's just an average weekday. Who will be the unlucky sod alone tonight? Will it be another poor bastard without a home trying to sleep behind a dumpster? He hardly thought about humans until he has to step up to one to feed. It feels pathetic to take one’s fill from those who didn’t have the strength to defend themselves, but it is also tedious to pick a fight that will certainly end the victim’s life. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a beleaguered sigh at the tedium of continuously having to carry on like this.

There are a few bars that line this street. He can't drink without it feeling like burning ash in his throat, though God, sometimes he wishes he could partake again. Sure he can go inside, hit up a kine, sip from someone a little too lost in the drink, and enjoy a brief respite himself… but then the thought of that also makes his stomach churn. Every time he tries, he can only remember the last time he tasted alcohol, and he just didn’t want it anymore. He shakes his head at himself as he decides to test fate and wander into the alley that approaches his right. Take the scenic route, maybe meet a new acquaintance?

Fate as she so rarely does seems to smile at Kolya this night as he walks, hearing the sounds of a scuffle somewhere around the corner. He summons the blood - hunger gnawing at him even more now - and he silences his steps and masks his visage, approaching the scene invisibly with purpose.

He can’t tell what the fight is about, just that it is decidedly one sided. One man armed with a weapon no doubt pulled out from the nearby trash pile, and the other curled up in a ball screaming on the ground for mercy. The armed man shouts obscenities to the other, beating against the man on the ground’s braced arms. Cracking sounds emanate from his forearms as the hits strike true, and the victim cries out even more. Kolya steps close, though does not interfere, watching the scene stoically as the scent of blood grows overwhelming.

One of the hits from the garbage weapon - old piping it looks like - slams against the victim’s skull. They go limp, knocked out cold - or worse- on the ground. Kolya takes this opportunity of anonymity and quickly grabs the attacker by his shoulders from behind, driving his fangs into the back of his neck. The stranger lets out a choked gasp, shivering as Kolya drinks and drinks. As the blood fills his mouth and pours down inside of his body, the feeling of self righteousness also begins to rise within the Kindred. At least this one deserves it.

“Kill him.” The Beast in his gut commands in a tone like ice . Like a master to its student, a hand to the tool it held. “Life doesn’t befit the wicked.”

Temptation coils within him, but as the kine grows weaker and weaker in his grip, Kolya’s mind grows clearer. He drops the stranger to the ground, still breathing, not so hungry that the monster in his gut has such control over him. Perhaps that’s why we are dead. He thinks in response to his own inner demon. His head turns to look over the poor fool that had been attacked, bleeding and broken, though still alive. Kolya crouchs beside him, pondering his options. His vitae burns hot and fresh in his old veins, pink flushes his cheeks, confidence fuels him forward. Briefly he looks at his wrist, then to the victim. The vitae will heal him, the vitae will guarantee his life be saved.

“...No.” He says to himself. He would never wish this existence on anyone. Kolya digs in the pockets of the man before finding a cell phone, dialing 911, then dropping it to the ground. With another rush of blood, he makes himself disappear, walking away from the crime scene with a full stomach and a conscious clear enough.

[magicalbrandingadventure]

A modern-day branding Nostradamus

Given the case was written in 2002, I endeavored to make my predictions based solely through the lens of one in 2002 (that way I wouldn't benefit from hindsight).* However, the promise (or lack thereof) of each of these products is so readily apparent that I found this to be a simple ranking.

My ranking of the products in terms of future promise are as follows:

DigiScents iSmell

Sliced peanut butter

Silver-coated bandages

Satellite radio

DigiScents iSmell

This is the clear and obvious winner of the four products. My initial inclination was that all PC owners would have their own iSmell by the end of 2004, let alone 2024. However, I've since realized that iSmell will likely be limited by their production capacity. Given that, I think it's likely that it will take several years of ramp up before iSmell becomes ubiquitous. That said, it has everything going for it: PC purchases are undergoing a meteoric rise, people are looking for new sensory experiences without leaving their home, and the technology underlying the product appears to be very advanced. The marketing for the product is a slam-dunk; it even looks cool:

Sliced peanut butter

This the second (and final) can't-miss product on the list. Americans are living their lives on-the-go more than ever. This can be seen with the rise of the "mobile" phone (although I predict this is a trend that will die out in the coming years), the popularity of roller blades, and the increasing frequency of eating lunch at one's desk. While the interview with the sliced peanut butter creator really does say it all (who among us hasn't experienced the frustration of getting peanut butter all over oneself while simultaneously tearing the bread and losing the knife during a late-night PB&J creation?), it is worth reiterating just how revolutionary this product will be to the market. No longer will the average American need to carry around their jar of peanut butter in their back pocket along with their jar of emergency peanut butter in their fanny pack—adding bulk and anxiety regarding the dreaded "peanut butter blowout." Instead, they will be able to carry 10–15 PB slices, saving both space and time. This is particularly relevant in the post-9/11 world we live in, where it has become a piles of peanut butter jars overflowing out of trash bins near TSA security having been flagged as containing too much fluid have become a common sight.

Silver-coated bandages

We live in a society where everything has its place: silver is for jewelry and bandages are for the weak. While I am technically speaking not a "medical doctor," I did grow up in the same town as one. Thus, I know that most cuts and scrapes are best served not by some highfalutin silver antibacterial elixir, but by rubbing some dirt on them. I believe I represent most Americans when I say that this product will never take any hold on the market, unless they are able to rebrand: instead of being silver-coated bandages, they should become bandage-shaped jewelry. Provided the price point is correct ($400+), this could easily become a statement piece worn by those in the medical community.

(image created by generative AI, another fad)

Satellite radio

While well-meaning, this endeavor is entirely misguided as it's premise is ridiculous. People do not want fewer ads or monthly payments. Research has shown that advertisements actually increase the enjoyment viewers feel when watching television (https://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE5131EU). Further, it is beyond absurd to think that consumers will pay a monthly fee to listen to music that they will not even own. The chart below demonstrates the dramatic rise in CD sales every year, clearly showing that Americans are not willing to pay merely to listen to music: they want to listen to free music with ads (traditional radio) and pay to own music in their homes (CD albums).

* Despite how funny it would have been, I opted not to write this article from the perspective of my eight-year-old self in 2002.

[penig]

When I first read Dracula, lo these many years agone (40 or so; I wonder who lives in that house now, where in the winter the cold was cupped inside like something precious and I read curled up in bed at night or in a chair in the sunroom?), I came away astonished at how good it was, yet a bit disappointed by the climax. It seemed anticlimactic to me, raised with cinematic climaxes even in my books; so many pages, so much tension, dissipating on the turn of two sentences into dust and Quincy’s blood on the snow and the minions and wolves sensibly fleeing into darkness as the sunset falls on Mina’s stainless forehead, and Mina didn’t get to use her gun.

Today, I feel very differently about it.

Today I have been crammed full of long, drawn-out, cinematic climaxes. I revolt against them; I begin to think about the lines in the restroom and will the mid-credit scene be worth the sitting? (It won’t.)

Also, today I have participated in Boss Fights many times; and this is how they go.

I played D&D back then, but it was a very different flavor of D&D, all dungeon crawls and party composition shifting randomly depending on who showed up, no continuity to speak of, no goal but to fight the next monster, solve the next puzzle, loot the next treasure, pile up the experience points for that next hard-earned level. It was fun but it had no pay-off, no plot, very little strategy because next session would be entirely different, or even teamwork, because next week Charlie’s parents would be visiting and he wouldn’t be able to come and the DM would have a research paper due so you’d be in a different dungeon with the person currently playing the 12th level monk behind the screen, running a dungeon he’d generated to test a computer program he’d written for his Trash-80. Whether you were fighting a horde of orcs or a Huge Ancient Red Dragon or even the actual BBEG at the bottommost level of the dungeon, you and your ragtag group of adventuring buddies would have at most a patchwork history with the enemy or the rest of the party or the dungeon itself. The thief would listen at the door and check for traps, you’d go in, and you’d do the best you could. And that’s not a boss fight.

No, for a Boss Fight, you have known for some time that you’d be coming up against the BBEG whose evil machinations have been making you tear your hair out since Level 1, whom you loathe with every fiber of your being even if you haven’t ever laid eyes on them before - you, and your seasoned party of close comrades. You know what they can do and you know what each and every one of you can do and you have discussed to death every countermeasure, every contingency. You have poured out your treasure like water to have the right equipment, the right buffs, the right protections in place. You have bribed and intimidated and persuaded and scryed and spied and burned the midnight oil to have every scrap of intelligence it is possible to glean. You have deployed your forces to maximize their effectiveness. Your game mechanic and your rules lawyer have found the exploitable loopholes and closed the loopholes the DM was hoping to exploit. You’re all of one mind. You’re ready.

You go in. You roll initiatives. You move, in deadly unity of purpose, you each do your job, you strike, and some of you miss and some of you hit and the BBEG’s minions try to distract you but you will not be distracted and They Are Gone, The Evil is Defeated and most of the time? If you did it right? If the dice aren’t cursed and the game mechanic and the rules lawyer are any shakes at all? The party is unscathed, the BBEG never got off a single attack. Anybody who did take damage probably got it from a trap or a minion, and it was probably a sacrifice move on the PC’s part to enable a bigger gun to get their hit in or to make sure that the PC’s own attack lands with full force on the actual target, denying them any chance of escape, recovery, or retaliation.

And Team Get Dracula did it letter-perfect.

The only reason Quincey died was because the mechanics of the system in use didn’t allow for massive HP accumulation or magical healing. Jonathan straight-up critted his Intimidation rolls so he didn’t have to deal with minions at all; one minion critted on Quincey and got through his parrying rolls and Quincey either didn’t have a mulligan left or decided to use it in a way that ensured he’d reach the coffin, when according to the mechanics evading the crit would have cost him either a precious round of movement or the to-hit bonus he was counting on to make the heart-strike.

 And Mina didn’t get to use her gun but that’s okay, because she knows, and they all know, but no one will say out loud, that if the plan didn’t work, if it came down to her using the gun, it would have been part of failing, or at best of Pyrrhic victory. In the circumstances of this combat, Mina was the weakest link. If the sun had gone down on Dracula, odds are good that his first act would have been to exert (or try to exert) control of her. She was inside the protection of the holy circle which might or might not have worked to protect her. She was bait, and distraction, and part of a Hail Mary play, and she knew all about that. She was the game mechanic and Van Helsing was the rules lawyer. Probably she had a Charisma-based feature that allowed her presence to provide bonuses to die rolls. She had done her bit in the planning and organizing and information-gathering stages. I have been in the Mina position and let me tell you, the satisfaction isn’t any the less for not having had to roll a single attack.

This time around, I am satisfied.

[xiairi-q]

S/O Thinks Shuichi is in love with Kaede

You always saw him talk to Kaede. Laughing.... Getting embarresed.

but he was... avoiding you? He wouldn't talk to you for long and go to Kaede right away. You accepted the "truth" that his heart belonged to someone else

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

You were thinking about how he will never love you while he was talking to Kaede about... you?

"Their smile Kaede! I don't know what to do"

"Smile her back? Ask them about their day?"

"I wish it was that easy"

He was blushing just by thinking about you smile. Kaede started laughing

"You overthink this. It's soo obvious that they like you back. I see the way they look at you... only you Shuichi!"

After that conversation he tried to talk to you but this time you avoided him. You wouldn't wanna ruin a beatiful relationship like theirs right?

He finally found the currage to ask you to be his and come to you... but you were crying

"I-is everything okay?"

"Sh-Shuichi!? I am sorry did you need something?" You tried to wipe your tears away as fast as possible

You tried to keep a fake smile but your tears gave away how you really felt

"I was looking for you... Are you okay?"

"Why were you looking for me?"

"I was gonna ask you something but I don't think this is a right time"

He sat beside you, trying to give at least some comfort

"Tell me please why are you crying?" He really wasn't the best at it tho

He couldn't bare seeing you hurt like this. You told him everything about how you felt and how you didn't wanna ruin their "relationship"

He giggled a bit

"We are not in a relationship s/o"

"That doesn't change that you might have feelings for her"

"I don't?" He started to fell awkvard... trying to understand you

"w-what?" your voice was shaky

"I was avoiding you I am sorry but I was too embarresed to look at you and when I saw Kaede flirt with the whole female cast I thought she might help"

"I-... You-"

"I am sorry I should've told you sooner"

He offered you a hug.... You didn't deny

A/N: I wrote this while I was listening

(\ (\

（｡･ω･｡)つ━☆・*。

⊂　　 ノ 　　　・゜+.   

  しーＪ　　　°。+ *´¨)

　　　　　　　　　.· ´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨)

　　　　　　　　　　(¸.·´

Mother Mother - Arms Tonite

Mother Mother - Burning Pile

SAD!

Mother Mother - Hayloft

Mother Mother - Ghosting

Bo en - Everyday

Penelope Scott- Rat

Never get used to people

Body (I am more than my body)

Stereo Hearts

Yea Ik my music taste is trash but don't judge me and listen all of them pls

Also writing on a phone is so freaking hard so I have some mistakes I will handle them when I get my pc back

[icy-warden]

Dragon Age: Origins OC as PC- soundset and banter edition

Tagged by @wild-houseplant​​  🌱✨

Warden’s name: Vergil Surana

Voice option: Baritone, usually relaxed and calm, clear, little nasally sounding while speaking, Ferelden accent; voice set found under the name - Mystical Male Elf

Soundset

Select PC: “Of course.”; “*sighs* Where now?”; Can’t get anything done without me, I know.”

Combat attack: “Don’t be afraid. *smiles* I’ll make it quick.”; “They just can’t stay away, can they.”; “Target practice. I’m truly spoiled.”; “*the sound of long loud sigh*”

Mana/stamina low: “*voice strained* I can’t keep up for much longer.”; “Finishing anytime soon?”; “*gasps* I… just… need a moment…”

Heal me: “Healing! Now!”; “I’m bleeding and it’s not planned! Heal me!”

Near death: “I’m not… going to *pained groan* fall…”; “*talking to himself (or is he?)* What…? No, I refuse to let you take ov- *gasps* Get out.”

Enemies sighted: “Time to practice new spells.”; “Who’s keeping score on the amount of creatures / people we slayed so far?” [if Zevran is present] “Are you keeping score on the amount of creatures / people we slayed so far, Zevran?”; “*annoyed* And I just put on fresh clothes.”

Dragon sighted: “How good their sense of smell is? The cloaking spell doesn’t cover it.”; “Is that pile of trash over there dragon’s treasure? Is it worth dying for? I think not.”

Spell/attack failed: “This is not what I had in mind.”; “My face is intact, yes? Tell me it is.”; “I’m not doing it again.”

Fight over, enemies killed: “I’ll be resting over there if you need me. Don’t need me.”; “Bloodstains. Bloodstains everywhere *disgusted noise*”; “Every time, I have an impression there’s more of them.”

Companion KO’d: [Morrigan] Morrigan, hold on!; [Sten] They got Sten!; [Alistair] Ah Void- Alistair!; [Wynne] Healer’s down! Protect Wynne!; [Leliana] Leliana, not you as well-; [Oghren] Oghren! Get up!; [Shale] How...?; [Zevran] Don’t you dare, Zevran!

Trap sighted: “If I can see that, you cannot not see that.”

Open chest: “No.”

Cannot do the thing: “A surprise, I’m sure.”

Banter

Leliana: You’re still angry with me, aren’t you.

Vergil: (disinterested) Am I? 

Leliana: Yes you are. You barely speak with me lately. Is it about last time I put my foot in my mouth?

Vergil: (amused) Which one exactly? There were many times.

Leliana: Our talk about elven servants in Orlais. I thought about it and apologized for my insensitive words.

Vergil: Yes, you did.

Leliana: (hopeful) And?

Vergil: Did it make you feel better?

Leliana: (gasps) I- That’s not fair!

Vergil: (coldly) I don’t owe you fair.

❄️ ✨

Vergil: Think you can point me to the merchant you got that bottle of white?

Oghren: What, my brew not good for ‘ya anymore?

Vergil: (dry) You exceed my ability to drink poison.

Oghren: (gruff laugh) Your pampered mage stomach’s just too sensitive for good stuff.

❄️ ✨

Alistair: So… You’re not going to tell anyone?

Vergil: I am not.

Alistair: Really?

Vergil: Really. 

Alistair: (suspicious) Not even Zevran? Or Morrigan? 

[if present] Zevran: I can hear you, my dear Alistair. What is it that you don’t want me to know?

Alistair: (flustered) Nothing!

[if present] Morrigan: (snorts) You’re not that interesting to me [if Alistair’s heritage is revealed], princeling.

Vergil: I keep my word, Alistair. Don’t tell me you’re regretting it?

Alistair: I don’t! It’s just… I’m not sure if I should-

Vergil: You don’t have to think so hard over it. No one’s hurt and it won’t happen again.

Alistair: Oh. Of course. (mumbling) Why would it.

❄️ ✨

Wynne: Creation spells really aren’t your forte.

Vergil: Why so surprised? They never were.

Wynne: Well, I am aware you're resourceful when it comes to casting but to mess up the simplest healing spell as spectacularly? That’s antitalent I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.

Vergil: (silent glare)

Wynne: If that animal wouldn’t be dead already it would die just from the agony you put it through.

Vergil: You wanted to see it for yourself. Not my fault you didn’t believe me when I said I can’t do it.

Wynne: (sighs) I guess you are right.

❄️ ✨

Shale: …

Vergil: (writes something down in his journal before leaning closer to get a better look at one of the crystals)

Shale: Is It done already.

Vergil: (startled) Huh? No, not yet. Could you tell me where that one comes from? Its colour is different from the rest.

Shale: No.

Vergil: No?

Shale: Would repeating the answers get It bored enough to leave me be? No.

Vergil: Busy with bird watching?

Shale: Busy with bird crushing.

❄️ ✨

Zevran: Ready for tonight’s session? I have a few things prepared.

Vergil: I don’t think so. My bruises have bruises.

Zevran: Oh, was I too rough last time? 

Vergil: Yes you were and you know it.

Zevran: (snickers) But you told me to keep going when-

[if present] Alistair: Could you both keep it private? I don’t need to know what you’re doing when you’re alone!

Zevran: You don’t? Actually, dear Alistair, I think we should add you to our alone time. Show Vergil a different perspective and I’m sure you have some tricks up your sleeve you’d like to share.

Alistair: Wh-what? No, I. I don’t. I’m going to- 

Vergil: I think I hit a rock when I fell down during yesterday’s training. Or a root. It was hard on my back.

Zevran: *tsks* Why didn’t you tell me? I’ll get my oils as soon as we’re camping. You’re getting a massage.

❄️ ✨

Vergil: I’m impressed.

Morrigan: (smirks) As you should be.

Vergil: Three bandits at once in less than a minute. Going for the eyes is really the key.

Morrigan: Being in crow form helps. (teasingly mocking) Shame you can’t do the same.

Vergil: (snorts) I’ll leave it to you. Not a fan of getting men’s eyeballs with my hands.

❄️ ✨

(two of them seem to be searching for something on a night sky)

Vergil: ...

Sten: …

Vergil: What about that one? 

Sten: I don’t recognize it. Do you have a name for it?

Vergil: Shadow. That’s common one. It’s Tenebrium in most books.

Sten: A dragon?

Vergil: More like an owl. One of the texts depicts it as a terrifying night hunter.

Sten: I see. A bird more terrifying than dragon. 

[yawnjunie]

monster hunting for dummies (1)

chapter one: so far, so bad

Description: Being a gruff, angsty teenager without a filter, you were not expecting to make any friends at your new school. After your first day of school, you decided to stop by the town carnival and have some fun for a bit. But five very annoying honeybees seem to follow you everywhere you go. If your fate hadn’t already been unfortunately entangled with these boys, then the mysterious object the bunch of you found at the fortune teller’s sealed the deal. Little did you know, this was the beginning of a long journey full of all sorts of absurd twists and turns. Word count: 3.4k Warnings: profanity, gore, lethal cuteness/diabetes-inducing fluff a/n: 💡 tip // if you’re on pc, ctrl + “+” to enlarge the screen for a comfy reading mode! we’ve spent a long time planning this story, so please let us know how you think of it so far :) without further ado, buckle in for a wild ride!

———

Wilson High. Probably the most dismal place on the planet. You stared straight ahead, lunch tray in hand. 

The cafeteria of the second best high school in the country lay right before your eyes, filled to the brim with top-notch jocks and nerdy A-holes. Someone behind you bumped into you, dangerously shaking the items on your tray. Feeling the weight of your backpack swing towards the right, you stumbled a little. So far, so bad.

You weaved your way through the masses of students walking to their usual seats, already busily chatting about their day. Of course, you kept your distance from the girls with the expensive backpacks and the newest cell phones. Not today, you thought, carefully balancing the food on your tray. Spotting an empty table in the corner of the cafeteria, you sat yourself down and started devouring your food without a second thought.

At least the food here is much better than anything from—

“Hey, you’re that new transfer, right?” A voice interrupted you mid-bite through your cajun pepper-seasoned chicken drumstick.

“Mmmfh, yeah,” you replied, wiping your greasy fingers on a cheap napkin. You looked up, straining your neck to meet the eyes of a boy who just spoke. Squinting from the fluorescent lights, you were only able to make out the looming shadow of the human skyscraper. He had a black backpack slung over his shoulder, and a basketball in the other hand. Who—

As you were sizing him up, his friends were already setting down their backpacks. “‘Bin, we’re going to grab lunch. Watch over our stuff.”

“Alright,” the boy said, awkwardly, seating himself across from you. 

“Oh, shoot, I didn’t mean to sit at your table.” You snatched up your napkin pile and picked up your tray. “Sorry.”

“Oh no it’s fine, you can sit here,” he replied, rubbing his ear sheepishly. “If you want.”

You sat back down, shoveling your food into your mouth as fast as you could without choking. This is so awkward. I might as well finish all this food and get out of here.

As you stuffed your face, you looked around at the noisy, yet dismal atmosphere of the room, filled with people you didn’t know and didn’t care about. New school, new air, yet nothing had changed. 

No matter where, school just sucked. It was a prison—better described as a hellhole— where bullies and other dull people turned the rest of the barrel rotten. Mental illness was a pandemic; everyone contracted it eventually, either from the schoolwork or from inhaling all the smoke coming from inside the bathroom.

The stuffy confinement of the walls could drive anyone insane. You felt the cool, smooth wall behind you with the back of your hand. This school could seriously be made into a mental ward, if it wasn’t already one. No remodeling required. 

Your gaze shifted to the boy in front of you. Of course, every place had its own share of the socially awkward. You, for one, had stopped caring. About nearly everything. In fact, you wouldn’t bat an eye if you failed all your classes; you’d probably end up being a farmer, either way. At best, you’d be a farmer with rudimentary knowledge of chemistry.

Sighing, you ripped another bite of your bread. Shit’s drier than Brandonbury’s humor, and that’s saying something. There was a long period of silence, which the boy in front of you filled by knocking his knees together and picking his fingernails.

Suddenly, you heard a slurred murmur coming from the space in front of you. “Um, wheredidyouusedtogo?”

“What?” Oh, right. There was a person there.

“Like, where did you go, before you came here.” He cleared his throat.

“Oh, yeah. I just went here and there.” You downed an entire carton of milk, wiping the milk mustache off your face with the back of your hand. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just… you know, we’re in the same English class.”

“Okay, and?” You were about to say, but you stopped yourself. Is that too cold? It was an astonishing act, for someone as insensitive as you to think about your words before you spoke. Not that you wanted to come off that way, you just, somehow, didn’t have a built-in thought filter like everyone else. But this time, you didn’t want to sound like a mean person to the first person to strike up a conversation with you in this shitty place.

“...Right. Your name is...” You studied his face. His friend just called him ‘Bin. Does he look more like a Woobin? Or a Yoobin? Changbin? Leebin? You furrowed your brow as you racked up more names. Trash bin, maybe? Haha.

“Soobin.” Close enough.

“Oh, yeah.” You chewed your food slowly, then swallowed. “Cool.”

The boy reached his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

There was a moment of awkward silence when you didn’t shake his hand. Retracting it, he cleared his throat and looked away in embarrassment.

“Sorry. My hands are greasy,” you said with a shrug. You were wiping them on your last napkin when out of the corner of your eye, you saw his friends walking back with their first rate cafeteria food. Guess that’s my cue. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you announced as you gathered your trash, preparing to take your leave. “Bye.”

“W-wait,” Soobin cut, making you turn around.

“Here,” you said, wrapping your uneaten bread roll in a grease-spotted napkin and handing it to him, although it was quite non sequitur. 

He looked like he wanted those bread rolls. He was staring at them, for like, the entire time I was eating. Kind of creepy, but he’s probably hungry.

“T-thanks. See you around… Wyann, was it?” the boy stuttered, head bowed in embarrassment as he accepted the bread.

Did he pick it up during roll call? People with good memory are creepy. You wondered why anyone would bother to remember your name. It wasn’t like you stood out or anything. Just another face in the crowd.  

“What are you, an elephant?”

“What?” His cheeks flushed tomato red. “Are my ears too big for you?” 

I didn’t say anything about your ears, but sure. 

“Bye-bye.” You rolled your eyes a little. Weirdo.

You walked out the cafeteria and ambled aimlessly down the hallway, figuring that you’d find the bathroom eventually if you kept walking. How did the saying go again? Elephants don’t forget? It’d suck ass to be an elephant, then. Some things are better off forgotten, you thought, shaking off your awkward experience.

It took an eternity of walking, but you found the bathroom. After relieving your pea-sized bladder, you flushed the toilet with your heel and reached down to grab your backpack. 

To your horror, there was no backpack to grab. 

Being the health-conscious girl you were, you ran your hands under the water for half a second (without soap), then kicked the door open and rushed down in the direction you came. Back in the cafeteria, you scanned the place you’d been sitting at. Sure enough, your backpack was right where you left it, but it was now surrounded by 4 new faces.

I change my mind. I’d rather be an elephant than be in this situation. With a dreadful sigh, you walked up to the table.

“Didn’t you say she called you an elephant?” One of the boys snickered, before being elbowed in the stomach by a taller boy. Seeing you walking to the table, they all ceased their not-so-secretive giggling and cleared their throats, unnaturally leaning against the lunch table.

“Sorry to interrupt, just forgot my backpack.” Avoiding eye contact, you snatched your backpack and started to back away, but as always, the universe didn’t like making things easy.

“Your backpack? When’d that get there?” a boy with dark, curly hair remarked. 

“We talked while you guys were getting lunch. This is Wyann, she’s new here. And Wyann, these are the 4 biggest idiots you’ll ever meet.” Soobin explained.

“Okay.” You silently looked the four idiots up and down and they just stared back, both sides at a loss for words. With your eyebrow raised and them frowning back at you, this scenario was straight out of some Disney Channel show. Guess this bread boy isn’t very good at introductions. 

“So, Wyann, you’re a transfer? Where from?” Idiot #2 was a boy with wavy blue hair. 

“Here and there.” 

“Hmmm… do you–” 

“Dude, don’t you think you should be the one doing the talking?” Soobin interjected, eyeing his friend awkwardly.

“Oh, right, my name is Yeonjun. I’m just a dude. A really handsome dude. So yeah, you gotta stick around to find out more~”

And if I don’t want to? You thought it’d be pretty funny to say that out loud, but from past experience, you’d found that people didn’t tend to share your sense of humor. Boy, were they missing out.

“Okay.” You simply said.

Just finish saying your names! You guys have one job! Soobin prompted his friends to his left with his eyes.

“Uh, hi! My name is Huening Kai, but you can call me Kai. Nice to meet you. Umm, yeah.” He finished his sentence with a small nod, his curly hair bouncing a little.

“Okay.” 

“Well, uh, what is your name?” The boy asked after a moment of silence. He bottled his emotions up really well for someone who looked like he was going to burst from embarrassment the next moment. 

“I think you should have your ears cleaned out,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Oh… sorry, I’ll shower when I get home.” It would’ve been a funny comeback if he hadn’t meant it so literally.

Soobin violently facepalmed himself, turning around in embarrassment. When the silence ensued, you answered his question with a heavy sigh.

“You can call me Wyann, but really, my name’s Jared, 19, and I never f*ckin’ learned how to read,” you replied sarcastically. “Between the lines, that is. So I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to get going before lunch ends so I can find my next class, not that you care anyway.” 

Turning around to find your next class, you fetched your crumpled campus map from your skirt. Screw school uniforms. If I’m going to be suffering in this hellhole, I’m going to do it in a t-shirt and jeans, starting tomorrow.

You were about to turn a corner in the hallway when a hand stopped you.

“What is it.”

“The social science department’s that way.” A boy with scraggly blonde hair and round eyes flashed a friendly smile at you. Who is this again?

“And how do you know my next class is econ?”

“It’s ‘cuz I’m psychic. And also because all seniors take econ, which only has two classes, and since you weren’t in the first one, you must be in the second one. Here, I’ll help you find the classroom.”

“Cool.” People like this were the type that would get away with murder, and that was cool. But most people found your run-of-the-mill answers off-putting, even when you meant them. And so the rest of the walk took place in silence; for you, a peaceful one, but for him, an awkward one.

–––––––

Tick, tick, tick. 

Seconds seemed to slow into minutes. Rather than listen to the monotonous drone of your trig teacher, which was about as interesting as watching sandpaper dry, you turned your attention to your classmates’ side conversations. Not much of an upgrade, but it beat trig.

“Did you catch the latest episode of TEOTFW?”

“Dude, I nearly shit my pants at the part where–” 

You tuned the rest out to avoid potential spoilers, making a mental note to watch it later.

“Hey, doing anything this weekend?” 

“Don’t tell me you’re throwing another party.”

“Haha, you already know.” 

“Don’t you ever get tired of partying, Jackson?”

You didn’t think you and Jackson would get along very well. You had zero interest in parties.

“Wanna go to that carnival after school?”

“What? Since when was it in town?” 

“They were setting it up yesterday, so it should be open today.” 

“Oh my gosh, I’m gonna buy 50 corndogs.” 

At the thought of 50 freshly-fried heavenly-smelling corn dogs, you started to salivate. Sounds like fun. I think I’ll go check it out. After a few minutes of fiddling with your phone under the desk, you pinpointed the location, conveniently just ten minutes away. 

When the last bell rang after what felt like an eternity, you were the first one out the door. Your backpack had already been zipped and slung over your shoulder for the past 15 minutes now. Running across the asphalt of the school grounds, you bounded out the gates to sweet, sweet freedom.

On the bus, you took your usual seat: 7th row down, left side, aisle seat. Window seats weren’t your thing; no space to breathe. But then again, that was public transportation for you.

Ten minutes down the road from hell, you could practically smell the corn dogs. The venue was less than a block from the bus stop. It was impossible to miss the flashing lights, the bright colors, and the lighthearted carnival tunes. Instead of hopping off the bus at your usual stop, you jumped right off at the corner of the usually isolated street. And before your very eyes, what was usually a patch of empty grass was now bustling with people and fair booths.

Alright, let’s go get some corn dogs.

––––

Straight away, you ran into a dilemma. Right at the entrance of the place was a towering rocking Viking boat, your favorite type of ride. There was something strangely appealing about feeling your stomach was going to fly out of your body, almost as appealing as stuffing yourself to the brim with oily sausages. Now that you thought about it, you really like abusing your stomach. 

Okay, maybe a quick ride wouldn’t hurt.

Being the first person in the queue was among the greatest privileges of mankind. Of course, you went straight to the end of the boat for the maximum thrill. You swung your feet aimlessly, patiently waiting for the ride to start. Most of the riders were parents with their small children, who filed into the middle rows. I’m never having kids. Still, you were grateful for them, because they gave you the whole back row to yourself. 

The ride was about to start when a voice interrupted: “Wait, wait! Hold up, we’re coming– oh wow, I’m out of breath.” “Haha, you gotta get out more, ‘Bin.” 

Oh dear lord, please no. Not here.

“Or maybe you should quit eating so much bread.” 

“Say what you want about my physique, but you’ll never take away my bread rights.” 

Please don’t come over here, please don’t come over here. 

To your horror, you realized that there was only one empty row left and they were heading straight for it. In a frantic last-ditch attempt, you pulled your hood over your head and turned the other way in hopes that they wouldn’t recognize you. The wooden bench creaked under the weight of five new butts. And it was just your luck that Bread Boy happened to sit closest to you.

“Lucky there was enough room left,” the blue-haired idiot remarked. “Thought we weren’t gonna make it.”

“I’ll say. Maybe if you stopped eating so much bread–” 

“Stop teasing me about my bread already. Who are you to talk, anyways? All your nicknames are about food!”

“Well, at least I–” 

You rolled your eyes and filtered out the rest of their bickering. What are they, a married couple? Better dynamic than my parents, at least. God, I hope I never get mar–

The ship lurched, jolting you out of your thoughts, and nearly your seat too. For the first time in a long time, you felt a wide grin spreading across your cheeks. With the breeze gusting through your hair, the sensation of thrill in your stomach, and the view from the top of the boat, you felt alive for the first time in a while. At least, until the screams started.

They literally sounded like dying goats. They were hitting notes even you couldn’t hit, and you were a soprano. Not that you knew how to sing, but you could break glass when you stubbed your toe. 

The rest of the ride was not a pleasant one. Between the screeching and the obnoxious hyena laughter that followed, you were about ready to jam your fist down their windpipes. Luckily for them, the ride ended and they were spared from your wrath.

“Haha, that was so fun! We should go again!” 

Fun, you say? You might have laughed if you weren’t so angry.

“Actually, I think we should dip soon. I dunno why, but I’m getting the heebie jeebies.” Who was that again? Narrowing your eyes, you tried to pin a name on the boy. Oh, never mind. He’s one of the guys who didn’t introduce himself.

“Sure, Tae. You and your spidey sense have gotten us out of trouble too many times to count. But before we go, let’s grab some corn dogs.” The other four followed Tae’s suit and left the boat. It struck you as odd how they trusted his word so easily. What could he have sensed, anyways? Your bloodlust?

Whatever. Now that they’re gone, I’d like to actually enjoy the ride this time. 

Finally, you had the back row to yourself again, and you savored every moment of it.

––––

“Hey guys, can we not go in?” Soobin clutched his queasy stomach at the sight of the waterpark installment, shuddering as he recalled his near-death encounter in deep water as a kid.

“Are you scared because you almost drowned in the kiddie pool when you were five because your safety float deflated?” Taehyun asked, a little too loudly. It earned him a few glances from other people in the queue.

“Shut up! That did not happen!”

“Okay, but aren’t you kinda too old to be scared of water? To be fair, you’re over 180cm and the water here is barely a meter high.”

“Still! I don’t like cold water.” He frowned. “Can we please go somewhere else?”

“Like where?”

“We-we could go watch the circus performances!”

“No thank you. Animals in cages make me sad, and I didn’t come here to be sad,” Tae replied. “We could go watch that magic show at 7 o’clock if you want.”

“But that’s at seven!”

“You can wait for us if you want, grab an ice cream while you wait.” Kai suggested, at a crossroads between going on the waterslide and keeping his friend company. Luckily for Soobin, Kai being the good kid he was, he chose friendship. “I could stay with you if you want to go somewhere else, we’ll have them give us a call when they’re done over here.”

“Okay!” the aquaphobic replied immediately, shooting dirty looks at the three boys that chose to stay in line. Linking arms, the two set off to find the ice cream stand. 

After picking up their ice creams, they wandered through the fairground without any particular destination. After a while of “Oooh, let’s go into the Mirror Maze!” “No, that one has a shorter line!” and “Oh, look! A bread stand!”, the two boys had worn themselves out with their own antics. Or maybe it was just Kai who felt drained, because his counterpart seemed perky as ever, now munching on his fifth carbohydrate snack. The boy sighed wearily as he reclined in a rickety plastic chair, taking a sip of his overly sweet lemonade. 

Staring off into the distance, he suddenly noticed a young boy sitting on a haystack staring him dead in the eyes. The child looked about seven years old, his curly brown hair parted in the middle. Slowly, the corners of his mouth turned upwards without the slightest twitch in the rest of his expression. His eyes didn’t match his smile. Kind of creepy, but then again, kids are weird. Yet something felt off.

“Bro, these nachos are so good! I’m too full to finish it, you want the rest?”

“Psst!” Huening Kai tapped his hyung’s arm quickly and nodded in the direction of the boy. “Look at that kid. Don’t you think he looks kinda cree—”

“Hmm?”

“Wait– where’d he go?” The haystack the boy had been sitting on appeared untouched; not even the slightest buttprint remained. It was as if he’d disapparated. “That’s weird.”

“Oh, right! Tae just texted me saying that they were done over there. We’re going back to meet with them. Let’s go!”

“Alright,” Kai responded, sparing a few last glances before leaving. Call it a gut feeling, but something told him that this wasn’t the last time he’d see this child.

———

chapter one finally out! the original chapter was supposed to be around 7.6k words, but we had to cut it because it was too long 😬😬😬 thank you for reading :)

hmm, i wonder who that mysterious child is?

[lyricalive]

A soul is an electric force, full of potential energy.

——Can we find souls in unlikely places, and set them into motion?

中古技術 〜 Electric Spirit Seance

#01  Lullaby of a Deserted Hell

From a bird's-eye view, the figures of two sprightly maidens would appear like dolls amidst the surrounding range of artificial mountains, a stunning silvery wasteland.

The taller of the two small-looking girls, Maribel Hearn (Merry) planted her hands on her hips as she surveyed the junk that encircled them in all directions.

   – "I can't believe you managed to convince me to go dumpster-diving.  Is this a step up or down from graverobbing?"

   – "We didn't rob anything from the graveyard.  I definitely want to find something worth taking from here, though."

   – "So this is a step down."

   – "Nah, it's fine.  These are all things that no one wants."

   – "Or things that no one wants to be seen.  Of course, that means…"

   – "It's the perfect place for the Secret Sealing Club!"

The club's current president, Renko Usami, pumped her fist with plenty of good cheer.  Merry smiled back, although she had mixed feelings about calling a land of literal garbage home.

   – "We can't just have normal dates, can we?"

Fortunately, at least, the garbage was not excessively odorous or grimy.  The site was a landfill specifically for electronic waste: frayed wires, boxy television frames, old phone models of all kinds.

The time was just around sunset -- more specifically 7:42 and 33 seconds, according to Renko's discerning eyes.  The mild starlight reflected off of broken LCD screens, making them appear ever so slightly less lifeless.

 #02  Rigid Paradise

   – "What exactly are we looking for...  Let me guess.  Hoping to find some retro videogames?"

   – "I won't lie.  That'd be great."

   – "But finding both a game and the console to go with it is going to be tough."

   – "Did you know, if a company manufactures more games than it can sell, they end up buried underground to get them out of circulation?"

   – "How wasteful.  At least they were given a proper funeral."

   – "The first time this happened was long ago in another country.  Thousands of unsold cartridges...  Just because they weren't popular at the time, now they'll never be played.  I'd love to give them a chance."

   – "Hee-hee, so much for a funeral.  I suppose we're not in the business of letting the dead rest in peace."

In this unique sort of graveyard, the bodies had been piling up for countless years.  Most of the material would never biodegrade, so the mounds kept accumulating, one layer buried under the next.  In fact, despite the oceans rising drastically over recent years, this dumping ground remained unusually high above sea level for the sole reason that its foundation was constantly being reinforced by layers of tightly packed waste.  

Renko, who had taken the precaution to wear pants and gloves on this excursion, knelt down to examine a mess of circuitry at the bottom of a looser heap.  Merry meanwhile nudged the tip of her shoe against the ground, pondering how deep down was the earth.

#03  Poison Body ~ Forsaken Doll

The girl in black and white impatiently murmured the time, for the fourth time that hour, before stretching her back and turning around to check on her partner.

   – "Find anything interesting yet, Merry?"

Merry, who had been spacing out for some while, quickly darted her eyes around for an improvised answer. A glint of light led her gaze to a long, flat cell phone teetering unceremoniously atop of a pile.

   – "This...  Haven't I seen this model in advertisements recently?  How did this already become trash?"

   – "Oh, you know.  Technology becomes out-of-date awfully quickly these days."

   – "Mm.  I'd like to see it as a sign of progress, but…"

   – "Yeah, it's not good at all.  We're in an age of quantity over quality."

Manufacturers who design their products to poor standards, so as to improve on them soon after, are akin to the type of trickster youkai that disguises itself in beggars' clothes to take advantage of others' low expectations.  In this selfishly self-deprecating society, it had become a disadvantage to show one's best.

   – "Everyone knows this, but thinking about it makes me so irritated."

   – "Right?  Humanity is really holding itself back."

   – "On top of that, don't they know that this is how vengeful tsukumogami are born?"

An object that has gone unused for 100 years is believed to develop a consciousness.  Some end up harmless -- but if its short life was spent being used as nothing more than throwaway capital, naturally it would make sense for it to become unhappy.

Merry laid one hand gently on the phone, as if in a gesture of sympathy.

   – "Hey, be careful not to touch more than you need to.  It may look clean, but the chemicals released by e-waste can still be toxic."

   – "Ah, right..."

She felt a bit sheepish for needing safety lessons from Renko, of all people.  But, having thought too hard about it, it became difficult for Merry to view the objects as just physical material.  A great majority of one's life was lived by virtual communication, so this material had great amounts of personal information stored in it.  Of course, the information's original source was in people's minds, so it's not as if it would be instantly forgotten once the plug was pulled.  But there were certainly more petabytes of raw data in a square meter of this dump than a human brain could hold.

#04  Electric Heritage

   – "Come to think of it, though, have you ever actually heard a story about an electronic object becoming a tsukumogami?"

   – "Well, no..."

   – "I have a theory about that.  I don't think e-waste is even capable of that transition."

   – "How do you figure?"

   – "Consider the crossover of electromagnetic fields and the detection of spirits.  Electricity is a simulation of life energy, almost too spot-on.  Like forces repel... so true life energy can't coexist with it.  Because they're flowing with this imitation power, I don't think electronics get a chance to develop real souls."

   – "I see.  Then, we can't properly call this a graveyard..."

   – "...if these bodies were never truly alive."

   – "I can't decide whether that makes me feel relieved, or lonely."

Merry let out an audible sigh against their eerily silent backdrop.  Then she braced herself to deliver the next news.

   – "But, if that's so... then why can I still feel something spiritual around here?"

Renko's eyes lit up instantly.

   – "Do you?  I was hoping you'd say that!"

   – "It just started... which is odd, since we haven't covered all that much ground since getting here.  It's as if a border connecting to somewhere else just opened."

   – "That supports the second part of the theory.  Like forces repel, but opposite forces attract.  They may not have souls themselves, but these empty vessels surely attract souls."

It felt fairly certain, now that both of their minds had helped confirm it:  Some spirit, human or non-human, seemed to have decided to take up residence in the wasteland.  Merry took a moment to feel proud of herself for her invaluable contribution.

   – "By the way, where do robots fit into your theory?"

   – "Well... I mean, there's no doubt we're getting closer every day to the A.I. revolution."

   – "Oh, my.  I knew I should have tipped our e-waiter last time we went to that café."

   – "But that's a completely different phenomenon than what births a tsukumogami, right?  It has to do with the software, not the hardware."

   – "Yes.  Though, it would seem to imply that there is a border of 'false' and 'true' life that can be crossed..."

  #05  Entrusting This World to Idols ~ Idolatrize World

   – "Now all we have to do is narrow it down, and we'll --"

As if on cue, Renko's thoughts were interrupted by a loud crashing sound from behind... music to her thrill-seeking ears.  She whirled around to catch the culprit, her eyes fixating on Merry and the dark-colored object that rested a few paces away at her feet.  The blonde girl threw her hands up in a display of innocence.

   – "I didn't do it.  It moved on its own!  I just saw it fall out of nowhere."

Renko's attempt at a professional retort failed to conceal her excited, twitching grin.

   – "Merry, Merry...  This is the most basic of physics.  An object can't move on its own!  Unless..."

They approached the rectangular object and peered over it.  It seemed to be a tablet PC, roughly twenty centimeters in length.  It had landed face up, luckily enough to not have not shattered the screen, though there was a significant surface crack down its center.

   – "Hm..."

   – "We've ruled out tsukumogami.  You think it could be... a poltergeist?"

   – "I don't know.  Rather than an outside force, the energy seems very contained in here."

   – "So then... a spirit living inside?"

   – "Something like that."

In response, the light of the screen flashed briefly on and back off.

   – "Ahh!  Electricity, a simulation of life energy..."

   – "It also works the other way around!"

This was a very lucky revelation for the two investigators, as it would have been nearly impossible to find a compatible charging cable.  In an age where each and every product was developed with its own unique cord design, this feature was marketed to consumers as a collectible game; the infinite variety, a controlled channel for creativity.

The device seemed to call out to them, understanding what they wanted.  The power flashed again, on and off and on, in a quirky rhythmical pattern that almost evoked a personality.

   – "We've definitely found something worth taking home!"

   – "Wait.  Isn't it wrong to remove a spirit from the place it's attached to?  We can't just adopt a ghost like an abandoned baby."

   – "Like you said, it's attached to the item, not the place. We're just fostering it for a bit before it moves on!"

   – "All right...  Just don't raise it to be wild like you."

   – "And you, Merry, make sure you don't spoil it!"

#06  Nostalgic Blood of the East ~ Old World

The pair reached Renko's dorm with the haunted vessel tucked inconspicuously into their satchel, grateful that the spirit hadn't chosen to bind itself to a full desktop monitor or CPU instead.  The question moving forward would be how to unlock its secrets.

   – "How old do you think it is?"

   – "Because it wasn't buried under anything, it seems like we should assume it to be fairly new.  But it just feels so out of place."

   – "Actually, I meant the spirit."

   – "Oh."

Hand in hand with the phenomenon of planned obsolescence, the fashionable aesthetics of electronics changed as often as water under a bridge.  Sleek designs were popular, then retro designs, then designs that mimicked the mimicry of two eras past, a vaguely deteriorating cycle.  As a result, it was difficult to tell which era this piece of technology belonged to.

   – "Remember that I saw a border open?  Maybe not just the spirit, but the whole item came from somewhere else..."

They had been scrutinizing the home screen for quite some time, attempting to navigate the ancient interface, and hadn't made much headway.  As far as they could tell, the data was heavily corrupted, and most of its history had been erased.  They were able to access only the most basic types of apps, like the calculator and the keyboard.

   – "Hey, Merry.  I think we should use that other thing we picked up."

   – "That?  I don't even understand how we would use it..."

As evidenced by her smug grin, the more scientifically-minded of the pair had full confidence in the strange idea she was about to suggest.

#07  A Tiny, Tiny Clever Commander

   – "I mean, really?  A mouse?"

Renko had insisted that they bring home a wired peripheral mouse, which she had spent an extra half hour scavenging for.  However, of course, the end of the cable did not match the outlet on the tablet.

Currently, she was back in the scavenging position, digging through the pile of unorganized junk that cluttered her closet (mostly books and occult items). Or rather, it looked unorganized, but she seemed to know exactly where everything was.  ...Or rather, Merry concluded, it truly was unorganized, but her eyes were sharp at scanning through even a complete mess.  She wondered if this small pile would ever become as large as the one at the dump.

   – "A-ha, found it!"

Renko had managed to track down the very particular treasure she was seeking, the final piece of their forgathered puzzle.  A small cube with many variously patterned notches rested in her open palm.  The material's finishing was uncolored and plain, likely to have been produced independently with a 3D printer rather than as a commercial product.

   – "W-Where did you get a thing like that?"

   – "I have connections you don't know, Merry."

Merry thought she had heard this line before, and felt a bead of sweat roll down her neck just like the first time.  The source was certainly shady.  Universal adapters were not at all legal.  Treating it like a Rubik's cube, and glancing back and forth for reference, Renko cleverly manipulated the block in her hand in ways that Merry was unable to understand.

Renko's partner, who had long embraced being an accomplice, appreciated her resourcefulness; she only wished to be kept more up to date when the other girl's mental plans ran ten steps ahead.  But she supposed that this was how Renko felt in return when it came to supernatural sights that she couldn't see, so perhaps they were even.

   – "Just like that?  Like magic..."

   – "Tell me, Merry.  Can you see the border of magic and science?"

With all the pieces aligned, Renko ceremoniously linked the mouse to the tablet through the intermediary box.  As a pop-up window indicated the drivers being registered, it was, they determined, a truly magical feat.  The light on the screen dimmed a bit, as if the spirit were expressing slight disappointment that it was no longer their only option for a power supply.

   – "Still...  Better technology has been around for decades.  These are so unwieldly.  Does anyone use an optical mouse anymore?"

   – "No, but no one's done this ritual in a long time either."

#08  No More Going Through Doors

Renko took Merry's hands in her own and conveyed them in a stack atop of the mouse.  Holding this pose, Merry squinted at the screen in front of her, which displayed a neatly spaced virtual keyboard with a complete set of lettering.  A mild shiver ran through her, either nervousness or excitement.

   – "Hang on.  This setup looks familiar somehow."

   – "That's right.  We're having a séance!"

Although Renko was very skilled with computers, hacking was not her expertise.  She did, however, have the kind of mind that was able to think around the box, discovering back doors.  The opportunity here was simple:  If they couldn't reach the secrets, they would consult the only one who knew -- the spirit itself.

   – "Huh!?"

   – "This mouse is a perfect planchette to use as an interface.  Sure, we have voice and touch technology.  But you don't want the spirit to possess your actual body in order to touch the screen or activate your voice, do you?"

   – "Definitely not.  ...Wait, did I ever say I wanted to be the medium at all?"

Merry pulled her hands back from the mouse and saw the screen's light flicker weakly.

   – "Oh, er...  You're right.  We didn't really decide that, did we?"

   – "Mm..."

   – "I think you'd be better suited, but I'll gladly go first.  I've always wanted to try something like this."

Merry's eyes glazed over as she thought about the prospect of communicating with the spirit.  They had assumed the sealed entity was harmless enough to bring home, but could there be some risk in directly channeling it?

Then again, what was the other option?  To leave their investigation at a dead end?

You don't belong on this side of the unknown.

A faint voice bubbled up inside of Merry, almost like an intrusive thought.  This had been happening to her increasingly often lately, though she always forgot about it after the fact.  Because, at the same time, they certainly felt like her own feelings...

Maribel Hearn was sparked with a surge of curiosity that made her want to take the lead.  These were precisely the club activities she had signed up for.  How much more dangerous could it be than anything else, so long as one made sure to follow the protocols and say goodbye at the end?

   – "No...  I'd like to do it."

Renko blinked in surprise.

   – "Really?  ...Well, gee, make up your mind.  You made me get all excited for myself.  Go ahead, but I call next!"

#09  Shoutoku Legend ~ True Administrator

Having cleared the area and turned off all the lights, Merry sat with her back straight against a chair and took a deep breath.  No candle was necessary, as the warm glow of the screen cast a ring of illumination around the table.  They had thoroughly discussed the questions they desired to ask, though the words felt awkward to speak out loud.  Nevertheless, the young medium opened her mouth.

   – "What is... your name?"

...

The atmosphere of room was deathly still.  Merry let all the muscles in her arm relax, preparing.

...

I...

   – "It's working...!"

The spirit was conscious and listening.  The planchette began to glide beneath Merry's loose grip, landing on the letter I.  When it paused on the letter for several seconds, she clicked the mouse button to confirm before the involuntary movement slowly began again.

...FO RG OT.

   – "Ah.  So it's going to be up to us to give it a name."

   – "Did you own this tablet?"

While Merry was lost in thought about a potential name, Renko chimed in with a question of her own from the opposite side of the table.  However, the spirit seemed to hesitate in answering.

Suddenly, the other girl's focus returned.  On an instinct, she broke the silence with an unexpected change of the question.

   – "Does this tablet own you?"

...

YE S.

   – "Huh... The tablet owns the spirit?  How did that happen?"

Although Renko's words were more thinking out loud than a direct question, the spirit was responsive.  Merry's hand immediately began to move.

...

SN AP.

   – "Snap...?  That sounds kind of scary."

   – "What does that mean?"

The cursor then swerved dramatically past all the letters on the keypad and down to the app menu along the bottom edge of the screen.  It hovered over an icon barely recognizable as an antique camera.

   – "Ah..."

The app launched, reproducing a dark, blurry image of the table on which the device's lens was turned.  Upon clicking the screen, a photograph was taken, and the damaged speaker emitted a distorted snapping sound.

   – "Spirit photography!"

The two girls burst out in unison, solving the riddle simultaneously.

   – "Right.  We've all heard the old belief that getting a photograph taken of you might steal a piece of your soul."

   – "It has some basis.  If captured in a photograph by accident, a minor spirit's energy might become trapped."

Somewhere in the hidden files, such a photograph must exist, binding some foreign essence to this device.  The spirit was likely eager to get free.

Merry minimized the camera app and returned to the keyboard.

   – "Who took the picture?"

...

Unlike its own, this name seemed to be one the spirit knew.  The pair observed with bated breath as the cursor navigated itself around the maze of letters.  Ultimately, it came to a halt, and Merry clicked on the final letter.

   – "...Eh?  Merry, stop kidding around!"

Merry turned to her partner with a genuine, solemn expression.

   – "I'm... not.  I swear."

Renko's face went pale. In ink-black font, three familiar syllables stood on display beside a blinking cursor.

#10  Dream World Folklore

To disprove the influence of the ideomotor effect, they had asked the question several more times, using both girls as mediums, until the spirit ultimately stopped responding altogether.

   – "Oh, no.  We scared it away..."

   – "Well, it did spook us first."

   – "Renko...  You weren't kidding about your connections, were you?"

Renko scratched her head with lingering bewilderment.

   – "Is the spirit messing with us?  Or could it be..."

Her gaze wandered over to the stream of occult paraphernalia still spilling out of the crack of her closet door, and she experienced a strange sense of longing.  The adventurous scientist was heavily accustomed to investigating mysteries from an observational and objective point of view.  Finding herself personally a step closer to the subject was a bizarre and almost gut-twisting feeling.  She supposed that this was how Merry felt in return when the focus of investigations was on her own powers, so perhaps they were even.  Almost.

After a few more sessions of séance, they managed to navigate to an encrypted folder.  A full-screen photograph had flashed open... but, before they were able to make out any details, the tablet's power instantly cut off.  Following this, it no longer responded to any input.

Their assumption would be that the spirit had been able to cross over, after deleting its digital ties to the physical container and unsealing the information it was attached to.

   – "I suppose this is goodbye..."

   – "Is the spirit free now?"

   – "I think so."

   – "That's good for it, at least."

   – "Too bad for you.  If we kept it, maybe it would have served as your personal shikigami."

   – "Isn't that a bit cold-hearted?  It was supposed to be our child!"

A shikigami is the perfect phantasmal servant.  The owner may input commands, and it carries out orders with extraordinary speed and calculation.  Of course, a normal computer already fulfills essentially the same purpose.  Outside world humans of the modern era aren't in need of such a spirit under their possession.

Even so, the force of attraction that had drawn them to cross paths with this spirit would be a mystery to chase going forward.  The two present members of the Sealing Club had a new story to tell, an urban legend that could be shared only amongst themselves.

Afterwords

Hello, this is someone who absolutely promised themself that they would publish at least one Hifuu fic per calendar year.  The idea for this one began with a conversation with my real-life partner (as is usually the case of inspiration) about the excellent aesthetic of using a computer keyboard as a Ouija board.  This subject in turn came up because of a "ghost" that haunts her keyboard by making a certain cryptic message appear on the screen at random times because the "." and "0" keys are in an easy position for us to accidentally press.  So, this story is dedicated to our precious child, ".0-chan."

Then, while it was already being written, WBaWC came out and confirmed that a technology-themed fic would be totally appropriate, and my favorite song from the soundtrack had the perfect title to be used in it.  (Also, its blatant dystopian themes justified playing up the similar themes of the Sealing Club's society even more than usual.)  And yet, despite many things lining up, it almost didn't get finished in time.  It's been such a busy and stressful year, which I hope gets better next year...

Another source of inspiration was the blog "Yukarisuggestion," whose portrayal I respect a lot.  When they drop minor bits of supernatural trivia, it definitely feels like they are coming from the youkai sage herself, very natural to accept.  I latched onto these posts in particular, finding the concept fascinating, and I only hope I interpreted it acceptably.  ...I was really aiming sharply this time at the Sealing Club's conversational aesthetic of "casual confidence in super obscure things that outside listeners would hear as nonsense," so I'm afraid some parts may have crossed the border of B.S.

Also, I wonder if it's okay that the second half of the song choices are almost entirely bad puns?

ASA    (Our ghost child's pen name would be "0.4" / "Rei-ten-shi"!)

Hifuu CD-style stories:

»  [Tumblr]  [AO3]  自封夢幻 〜 Sentimental Reverie

»  [Tumblr]  [AO3]  陶然夢幻 〜 Transcendental Revelry

»  [Tumblr]  [AO3]  羨望横断 〜 Unenviable Crossroads

»  [Tumblr]  [AO3]  外来土産 〜 Adventive Reminiscence

»  [Tumblr]  [AO3] 中古技術 〜 Electric Spirit Seance

»  [Tumblr]  [AO3]  幻想惑星直列 〜 Phantasmal Syzygy

[ralkana]

Sunday's numbers! (Explanation of challenge here.)

Long post today...

I started on the Closet of Doom. Quick explanation: This is my parents' closet. It was jam-packed when they gradually retired out of state several years ago, and then more things have been kind of tossed in there. They took some stuff with them, but it is still SO full. My dad's side was so full that the weight of the stuff actually pulled the rail and the shelves off the wall, so I can't even get INTO the closet. Have a photo or two.

So the first step is to go through the clothes blocking the door. It's pretty much all good quality and well taken care of, so it's good to donate, but a lot of it is on the hangers from the dry cleaners with foam across the top to protect the shirt shoulders a little. The problem with that foam is that if you leave it for long enough, it disintegrates. All over the shirts and me as I'm trying to take them off the hangers. So then I had to, like, pull tiny bits of foam off of everything with tape so that I could get them into a ready condition for donation.

Aggravating! And SO time-consuming!

I worked for about an hour, and it doesn't even look like I touched it, but I pulled out 25 shirts or sweaters to donate. I also put a handful of items aside for him to look at next time he's here, to see if he wants them or not.

Only 12 pcs of trash if you don't count the zillion pieces of foam, which I'm not. Only 2 shirts weren't in good enough shape to donate, which is pretty good.

I also have all these hangers that I'm not counting as trash yet. I'm just going to keep piling them up, because I may keep some of them or just bin them all, but I'm not sure yet.

Hey look, more jewelry to go through! I found 12 more pieces or sets of jewelry to donate. I was also going to donate this little trinket box, but my parents brought it back for me from Spain, and I'm just not ready to let it go yet. Maybe next round of decluttering, we'll see.

I also decided to quickly declutter my Christmas jewelry because I keep finding more. I found 4 pcs or sets of Christmas jewelry to donate. I will put them in the box with the rest of my Christmas donations for later in the year.

Here's 29 pieces of jewelry or jewelry box related trash.

So today's numbers are 25+12+12+4+29 = 82 for the day! I'm pulling the 50 post-it, as it's the largest one yet.

1,601 is the running total. I started this 2 weeks ago. That's mindboggling.

I'm not going to work on that closet every day because it is so overwhelming and discouraging, so I will mix it in with other parts of the house. I have two other Doom Rooms to go with it, so I'll probably alternate between the 3.

[fuckyeahjerlita]

Code Lyoko Fanfic - Memories Buried in the Snow - Chapter 4 - Epilogue

After the tech powwow, Jeremie and Aelita return to France. 

Jeremie and Aelita awakened, showered and changed, then drove to the tech powwow, where they exchanged ideas and contact info with many different computer programmers, game designers, and hardware inventors, brilliant minds akin to their own, an intellectual high circle that only few could move in.

Upon returning to the chalet, Jeremie waited until Aelita was engrossed on her laptop, then slipped away, firing off a call to the company that had rented the chalet out for their use.

“Hi, this is Jeremie Belpois. My wife and I have been staying in your chalet the past two days…” he began.

Next day…

Jeremie and Aelita finished stowing their last bags away in the trunk of their rental car. Soon they would be on the road for the long drive west back to Paris. Just as Jeremie was about to get into the car, Aelita held up her phone.

“Jeremie, come over here for a minute, please,” she called.

Jeremie joined Aelita, whom he just now noticed had one of the old photos from the box in her hand. She held the photo up, showing the picture of her parents together in front of the chalet. Using it, she found the spot where they had stood together all those years ago. She started her phone’s camera app, then set it for a delayed timer.

With everything set up, Aelita ran over to join Jeremie, standing just in front of him, with the chalet in the background. Both of them smiled as the phone gave a beep before snapping a photo of them.

Aelita retrieved the phone and compared the resulting picture to the one of her parents, holding both up for Jeremie to see. The two looked into each other’s eyes, then exchanged a hug before piling into the car for the long drive home.

  Paris The Hermitage

“God, it’s good to be home,” Jeremie declared as he walked inside from parking the car in the garage after letting Aelita out.

“Hey, Einstein! How was Switzerland?” Odd asked from atop the staircase.

“Not as bad as I thought it’d be,” was Jeremie’s answer. “You didn’t trash the place while we were gone, did you?”

“Nope! Oh, a small package arrived for you guys today. It’s on the dining room table,” Odd pointed carelessly in the direction of it.

“Thanks,” said Jeremie as he picked up the package and opened it.

Contents in hand, he went upstairs to the computer room, where he found Aelita at her PC, working on some new program or other. Swallowing, he approached her.

Upon hearing his footsteps, Aelita looked up. Jeremie laid the contents of the package down on her desk: the key to the chalet and a deed, showing her as the house’s new owner. He then stepped respectfully back to await her reaction.

Aelita lifted up the key, recognizing it instantly and looked at the paper, startled to see her name on it. She looked up into Jeremie’s expectant face, feeling a great warmth well up in her heart, before suffusing her whole being, body and soul.

Smile bursting onto her features like a sunrise, she rose from her chair, approached Jeremie, then wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him close, capturing his lips in a soul searing kiss.

“I love you, Jeremie Belpois,” she declared.

With an inward sigh of relief, Jeremie returned her embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Content, the couple closed their eyes and rested in the moment.

~Fin~

[nicholascannon]

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[romefm]

what’s   poppeeeeeenguh   AURGH   !   this   was   meant   to   be   posted   a   century   and   a   half   ago   ,   but   due   to   some   ...   unforseen   (   read   :   i   was   given   a   edible   by   thou   who   shalt..   not..   be   named   ?   clearly   i   skipped   all   of   my   shakespeare   english   classes   )   circumstances   ,   it   was   delayed   .   but   i’m   here   now   to   deliver   u   this   steaming   pile   of   degenerate   fratboy   douchebag   on   this   fine   saturday   morning   (   shoutout   to   chloe   in   australia   idk   what   month   ur   in   much   less   what   time   of   day   it   is   so   bear   with   me   SKJFJKD   )   .

⋆ ╰  another  year  at  hollingsworth  ,  another  year  of  the  big  six  rivalry  .  i  hear  that  ROMAN PIERCE  is  ensuring PI KAPPA EPSILON  gets  a  solid  pledge  class  and  stays  at  the  top  of  the  ranks  .  oh  ,  you’re  not  familiar  with  HIM ?  ROME is  the  GREGG SULKIN look  alike  from  ATLANTA  ,  GEORGIA.  apart  of  PC  ‘16  ,  he  is  majoring  in  PSYCHOLOGY and  has  plans  to  PURSUE A CAREER IN THE NFL  after  undergrad  .  it  makes  sense  they  pledged  their  house  ,  their  ADEPT  &  MAGNETIC  attributes  make  them  perfect  matches  .  however  ,  their  IMPETUOUS   &  SALACIOUS  attributes  keep  their  name  alive  on  greek  rank  .  if  you  don’t  catch  them  dancing  to  MOUNT EVEREST - LABRINTH  at  a  fraternity  band  party  this  year  ,  you’ll  be  sure  to  catch  them  nursing  their  morning  hangover  at  THE PIKE HOUSE.  cheers  to  another  wild  semester !

i.

𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊 : roman gabriel pierce 

𝖆𝖌𝖊 : twenty - one

𝖉𝖔𝖇 : june 15th , 1998

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 / 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖘 : he / him 

𝖘𝖊𝖝𝖚𝖆𝖑 & 𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 : bisexual , but definitely more on the low low . he’s only ever been seen publicly with girls .

𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙: 6‘1″  🤡

𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊: having graduated from the title of white man’s wh*re , he is now cordially referred to as the white man’s beefcake . he treats gym sessions like a therapy visit , clocking in at a friendly 200 lbs . like all gym rats w/o a personality , he keeps his hair short on the sides n longer on top , a la this look . he has a scar running along the inside of his right arm from when he broke it , and another that splits his left eyebrow from his eighteenth birthday 

𝖔𝖈𝖈𝖚𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 : resident waste of space , quarterback for the hollingsworth mumbles , least favorite son of the year recipient 1998 - 2019 . 

𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖔𝖜𝖓 : atlanta , georgia .

ii.

second son of hall of fame ex falcons qb , miles pierce , and entrepreneur and daughter of a famed manhattan - based art collector , amélie pierce -- rome’s future was pretty non - negotiable since day one . as soon as they could stumble around enough to pass for walking , miles had his sons enrolled in as many football programs as he legally could . 

when rome was young , he loved it . the attention , the praise he received for his quickness despite being one of the smallest kids on the field . plus , going to his father’s games and being recognized as miles pierce’s kids was also fun . soon came time for the inevitable retirement on the heel of a downward - trending career , and after that things ... changed .

suddenly , it was less praise and more demands . earlier practices , with his father making rome and his brother run drills until they were sick . suddenly , things that were previously good weren’t good enough , despite how much better his sons continued to be . 

as anyone with half a brain could guess , these pressures eventually began to take their toll . with interests in anything else repressed by his father’s insistence that football is and always will be the most important thing in life , rome began to emulate his father’s aggressive attitude , first bringing it to the field and then , more notably , to his personal life . failed relationships , fights at school , sneaking home late absolutely blitzed out of his mind -- none of the behaviors were healthy , but they were enough to take the weight of his father’s hands off of his shoulders , if only for a moment . until papa helicopter parent found out , that is . 

tw abuse : despite his sons catering to his every will , miles’ incessant anger began to worsen , and soon a lot of the verbal abuse had started to become physical , too . sure , rome knew that it was wrong , but he also thought that maybe if he’d been better in the game last night , or worked harder at practice , maybe he’d stop . 

he made varsity his freshman year of high school and took his team to the state championships , expecting his dad to finally approve of something he’d done . instead , he came home to the news that his mother was leaving -- that his parents were splitting up and that this had been a long time combing . safe to say this mama’s boy ass bitch was devastated. 

tw death : his dad only sunk deeper into his madness , but all that anyone else could see is that rome was throwing further , moving faster , and making better plays . a non - football related injury left him with a broken arm , and it was on the way home from the hospital that his father received the call that his ex - wife had taken her own life . devastated part ii , coming soon to a theater near you !

tw drugs , alcohol , general debauchery : the partying worsened . rome had entered a phase in his life where he was looking for something -- anything to completely wipe his mind of any and all thoughts . the drugs , the alcohol , it was all a coping mechanism , but it definitely wasn’t a healthy one . soon , his brother left for college thousands of miles away , and rome found out that that fifth of rum goes down a lot easier after doing a few lines beforehand . 

he chose to go to college in georgia not because he wanted to , but because his dad knew that hollingsworth was a great school for scouting attention and that rome wasn’t never too far away to yell at SKDFKJ . in his midst of an extended bender compounded by having training now twice a day everyday on top of college courses , he decided to join pike -- and he absolutely loves it . 

he chose to major in psych because he wants to understand why his dad hates him so much SKJFJKS dumb b*tch . 

also last summer he may or may not have allegedly accidentally wrapped his masterati around a telephone pole and gotten a dui . in reality , it was his brother , but roman told him to gtfo and he’d take the fall because his bro finally managed to escape his dad and rome didn’t want him to suffer the same fate . it made headlines , but his dad pulled approximately 6 billion strings to get him conditionally reinstated to the team .

spent the summer before his junior year chillin in rehab , but he relapsed shortly after . consistency is key here , kids. 

still bender - adjacent , but he’s kept it more lowkey because the nfl draft is coming in HOT . 

iii.

he really .............. kinda sux , objectively SFDKJSDFJK

he has so , so much pent up frustration and anger directed at his father and himself that it manifests in some pretty shitty behaviors . 

he’s definitely controlling ( as a consequence of having v v little control over his own life ) , and he’ll manipulate any situation he deems worthy of his effort just to assure that he isn’t in any state of vulnerability . 

i know yall get it , he vapes , but he’s definitely the kind of guy to try to keep the party running til 5 am and get pissed when people tell him that maybe he should stop .

he will provoke anyone and anything ( even inanimate objects ) if found in a self - destructive enough mood . 

has a notoriously short temper , but what kind of gym rat doesn’t .

manages to still attain a 4.0 ( and in his words , psych is easy ) , so that’s another thing that makes it difficult for him to understand that his lifestyle is ... per se ... problematique . 

10000% has sent a plethora of  u up ? texts

kinda gets a little .. hm .. sad sometimes but that’s only after everyone bails from the party n he’s left alone in a dirty ass frat house SDKFSDJK

definitely an irredeemable trash bag and pls don’t think of him any other way 

is definitely fiercely loyal to the 2.5 people who can tolerate him . 

currently in an uber ride to hell , but 10/10 hit the option so that his uber driver can’t talk to him 🤡

[totallygamerlife]

Found this Alienware PC on top of a trash pile. The CPU cooler bracket was upside down not making contact with the CPU, flipped it over and now have a working i7 3620 with 16gb ddr3. Saved it from the landfill.