#November 21 2022

[dogstomp]

Dogstomp #2876 - November 21st

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[dmwrites]

They’d made Jimmy smaller again.

Jimmy stood fuming and yelling up at his friends, demanding they return him to his normal height this instant. He was fully aware that he was now only a few pixels tall now, maybe a block tall at best. His friends were laughing, cooing over him, ruffling his hair with one finger. They called him a little doll and tried to pick him up. Jimmy eventually evaded their hands and flew off, back towards Tumble Town.

“Ugh! If only I knew how to make myself big again!” Jimmy moaned to himself. He kicked around Tumble Town, unable to reach half of the doorknobs and not having a very nice time. Finally, he decided to have a nice, calm strip mining session. There were no short jokes in the mines.

And strip mine he did. Days passed, but Jimmy just kept pushing forward in a straight line, through lava and water and diamonds. It felt good to be able to break the stones like he did, get away from the surface of Empires for a while. The monotony of mining was so relaxing.

Well, relaxing until Jimmy mined into another one by one tunnel. Jimmy turned to look behind him, and then in front of him. He’d only been digging in a straight line, and no one else was small like him.

“What on earth?” Jimmy whispered, stepping forward into the other tunnel.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Jimmy screamed as a small blue being stepped out of a tunnel that branched out from the one he stood in. The blue guy was about Jimmy’s size, with fluffy wings and a sword in his hands.

“Oh my word- please, you winged man, quiet your curses around me, I’m a pg channel.” Jimmy cried. “And please don’t kill me, I am just a small guy!”

The blue man’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Sorry, what the fu- oh you mean the like pg as in, okay, I see, whatever. Uh, what the frick are you doing here, and why the fu- frick do you look like Woody from Toy Story?”

Jimmy sighed, rubbing his hand across his forehead in annoyance. “I am not a toy. I am the sheriff! My name is Jimmy, nice to meet you, I suppose. Please do not call me a toy again or I will kill you.”

The blue guy squinted at Jimmy as if making a series of moral decisions. He took out his sword at one point, then put it away. “It’s a damn good thing you seem harmless, bro. I’m Sneeg. What the hel- fuc- what are you doing in my tunnel, dude? Where did you even come from?”

“Oh, well, this is my tunnel!” Jimmy said, indicating behind him. “I was strip mining, and it opened up into all of this! I am just as surprised as you are, frankly!”

“Yeah, it’s not every day you find a tiny man cosplaying a cop in your tunnels.” Sneeg replied.

“I am a sheriff, not a cop, whatever that is.” Jimmy said. “And I am not small! We are the same height.”

“Right, but you totally have short energy.” Sneeg replied. “But, like, whatever, it’s chill. Uh, well, welcome to the Origins server, I guess.”

“Origins?” Jimmy asked, confused. “No, no, I’m on the Empires server. That’s where I started my strip mine, anyway.”

“Well, partner, looks like you dug so far you ended up in a whole other server. So why don’t you stay a while?” Sneeg said, patting Jimmy on the back. “Listen, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve met someone smaller- I mean the same height- as me. Let’s go terrorize people or something, it’ll be funny. We short kings gotta stick together, make tall people regret everything.”

Jimmy puffed out his chest. “Well, Mr. Sneeg, I could not agree more with your outlandish ideas of terrorizing those taller then us. Maybe I need to emulate you, make my friends back on Empires respect me and the law.”

“Totes, man.” Sneeg said. “Come on, let’s go fuck some shit up.”

“My goodness! Sneeg, please, again with the language!”

“Huh, funny, you sound a bit like an old friend of mine…”

[card-of-the-day]

Today's Card Is: Undertaker

[mermaidinthecity]

oliviarodrigo: hi

[averbaldumpingground]

She looks a little like her mother. The same dark hair, dark eyes, soft, rounded features.

Her voice is different though. A local accent, flattened vowels. She's still holding the door.

"Who did you say you were again? My mom's not feeling well."

"Oh, it's alright. I'll try to come back later."

It's not the time or place to have this conversation. You're several decades late. You're not sure that the truth is even welcome.

[1morteveryday]

325/365 👣

[yahooanswersblog]

👤: @askfm get rid of the pervs an pedos

Me: They probably take more issue with people tagging them.

[music-asylum]

November 21, 2022

[eons-arts]

redraw of day 7 for daily jexx

[thehiddenhermit]

Why can't I fall asleep without waking up 15 minutes after in a panic?

[untothebreach]

i want to make art that moves people but i dont know how

its gotten to the point where i cant even consume modern artist media or read/see/listen to things that are artful and moving because I crack a little over how I'll never be able to make something that impactful, because everything I do is so shallow and derivative

i just want to be able to make something that means something

cuz maybe then *i'll* mean something

[louisupdates]

via Robert Harvey’s Instagram story (21.11)

[dmwrites]

In the kind of strange hustle and bustle that was randomly getting dumped into a new world and being forced to live on it, there were the odd moments of peace. Times when the hermits, all busy or far-flung, found themselves working with their friends once more, and got to chatting. Whether it was campfire gatherings at night or gathering the same material together, it was just nice to talk to one another. Comfort in similar circumstances, perhaps.

Cleo ran into Pearl in the storage area of Hermittopia. Cleo had been swearing loudly about some redstone she couldn’t get right on the dripstone farm she was tasked with making, and when she turned the corner, it was to find, and hear, Pearl cursing the hermits. The both stopped at the sight of each other, then giggled.

“Good lord, Pearl, I know you’re, like, out in the empires wild learning all kinds of new words, but what did we ever do to you, miss sunflower princess?” Cleo asked, smirking, not unkindly.

“Oh please.” Pearl snorted. “I am no ruler like these people. I was cursing you hermits because this storage area is an abomination, frankly.”

Cleo giggled. “Fair, fair. It is a bit of a disaster, but it’s fine. Do you know if we have any more observers? This damn farm is going to be the death, or should I say, death two electric boogaloo, of me.”

Pearl reached into a chest and handed her a few. “You need some help? I’ve done some redstone in my time. I also know Impulse, which should count for something.”

Cleo nodded, and they flew up to the small outcropping on the hermittopia building that was marked with Cleo’s name. They got to work, Cleo laying out the redstone and Pearl tweaking it as they went.

“Alright, go on then.” Cleo said after a while of comfortable silence. “What’s the outfit change about?” Cleo nodded to Pearl’s frankly stunning green dress and crown of sunflowers.

“Dunno. Maybe the rift decided I needed fashion help. The trash lady aesthetic didn’t match the dnd vibes of empires or something. Lol.” Pearl joked, fidgeting with a bit of redstone dust.

Cleo chuckled, but she could tell that Pearl knew more then she was letting on. “It’s just interesting. I mean, I feel like you’ve adjusted a lot better then a lot of us. And the empires people, they look at you just so funny, don’t they?”

Pearl hesitated, then nodded. “They seem to, yes. It’s odd.”

Cleo gave Pearl a long, searching look. The silence between them was a silence not unfamiliar to either of them. Cleo and Pearl seemed to often end up on opposite sides of the battlefield, both scary, both scared, both powerful. For only knowing each other for a few years, their history ran deep. And Cleo knew Pearl was lying to her.

“It is odd, isn’t it.” Cleo said quietly. They both returned to their work, and only spoke when Pearl made her polite excuses and left.

[jou-m]

90’s sitcom has-been

[mermaidinthecity]

November 21, 2022

[averbaldumpingground]

If the Xi'an Inquest had changed the trajectory of Josephine's career, it was the Gilgamesh that defined it. A colonial transport, the Gilgamesh had been en route to the penal colony on Eos, a fresh wave of Terran conscripts sentenced to farm labor in her hull. The revolt had been entirely unexpected. Most of the crew hadn't made it, but it was the leader's claims that got the Inquisitors' attention.

Fern Konstantin was a Plutonian Revivalist, a fringe religious sect obsessed with planetary alignment or something of that sort. Like most of the citizens remaining in the inhospitable climate of the Trans-Oceanic Federation of New Australia, the Revivalists kept mostly to the subterranean caverns, subsisting on the biologically manipulated fungi that grew most densely in that particular region of Terra.

Konstantin, a self-styled prophet, had arranged for the arrests as part of some sort of grander plan, certain of the probability of transport. And Josephine, her resignation from the Admiralty proper just recently approved, would bear witness to the near endless hours of ranting.

Except it wasn't madness that spoke. Konstantin claimed there were signals, radio waves. Communications from those settlements the Confederacy thought lost.