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crescentblossom66 · 2 years

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Dead Bird Metro: The Tale of two Girls Chapter 7 Part 2

TW: Minor character death

“Ugh...what's wrong now!? I ain't got no time to deal with yer idiocy, you peck necks!” The ear-deafening, screechy voice of the leader of the Leowles could be heard very loud and clear through the other end of the communicator.

Now or never, Bow thought, as she prayed that the chip work as intended. She calmed her nerves and tried her best to think and talk like on of the metro owls. “S-Sorry, boss, I-I know you're busy, but we got a small problem with the train.-”, she could hear a menacing low growl from the other side and her words slowly trailed off, thankfully that was in character. “-It just...s-stopped here at Crowwing-Station.” Crowwing station was just inside of Leowle territory, the DJ thought it would be the easiest station to pulled this off without alerting to many enemies. It helped that the Conductor, like his name suggested, was very fond of the trains and always made sure that they ran properly, according to the intel some of the stealthier penguins had gathered, he would maintain them himself.

“Alright, clean yer ears, lad, I AINT GOT THE TIME!” Bow had to take the small device away from her ear, even her three comrades flinched at the volume.

This wasn't good, she really needed to think of something. “It's making some awful screeching noises whenever we try to turn it on and I think we're slightly...tilted?”

“Yeah, Boss, one of the front wheels is broken, I think.” Dave tried to chime in, Bow frowned at his attempt, but it got the old owl to think, as he was now oddly silent.

“We can't fix it ourselves, but you know, a train out of commission is bad for the business, right?”

“...FINE! I'll come over and take a look, this better not be somethin' easy ta fix like a broken pipe or somethin'. Where did ye say yer were at?”

“Crowwing-Station, s-sir.” He switched the communicator off with out replying, and Bow and the penguins all let out deep sighs of relief.

“How are these owls dealin' with that loud imbecile.-” One of the penguins started, “-my ears are still ringing.”

“Man, I'm glad that DJ Grooves isn't like that, I think I'd have a heart attack every time I have to talk to him.” Dave and Bow nodded.

“Okay, back on track. He should be here in about 10 minutes.” Dave produced a very cheap phone from his jacket and dialed the number for the police.

Bow let Dave handle that call and stepped out of the train, she grabbed the metal bat and hit one of the front wheels as hard as she could a couple of times, she admired her work for a moment as the others joined her. The wheel was now dented and completely misshapen. That should suffice in making this a bit more believable when the yellow-feathered leader would arrive.

“Alright, cops are on the way, we should scram!” Dave told Bow, who got up to check if everything was set up properly. Jewels in train...check, Conductor on the way...check, police on the way to bust him...check.

“Head on without me, I'm gonna keep watch to see that everything goes according to plan.” The two other penguins nodded and ran toward the parked cars, Dave wanted to sprint away too, but turned around one last time.

“Be careful, Bow, we need you back in one piece, sis.” Bow gave him a thumps up and a wink before running toward a house near the station to observe the scene.

Hattie scrambled back up the vent and moved through it carefully, as she presumably exited that room and was just above the hallway, she stopped when she heard voices. They were muffled due to the insulation, but she could make out a few words.

“_ow is __ goin_, _oss?” A fairly high-pitched voice asked, and a low pitched one answered.

“A b_t too g_eat, _ar__ng, lots of p_tron_. I hop_ the p_an _or_s.” Something about the patrons and something that she couldn't quite get, it sounded serious though. It wouldn't matter anyway everyone here would soon be dead. She waited for the voices to get quieter for a moment, thankfully they were moving away it seemed.

When she exited the vent and climbed back down, she looked over to the crowd of people, people that would likely become casualties in the explosion. She averted her eyes and focused them on the exit. The most important part was that almost all of the Penguiads would be eradicated, and the few stragglers that remained wouldn't be able to do anything, as long as their leader died.

The brown-haired girl clambered over the dusty speaker cables, that was when she almost failed her mission. A long thin strand of dust tickled her nose while she pulled herself up and through an opening between cables,

“ACHOO!” She panicked when she heard a slurred voice say:

“Bless you.” Followed by footsteps that went from the front of the speaker in her direction, she hurried through the remaining cables and waited for them to turn around the corner. In his drunken state the penguin that came to check where the sneeze came from couldn't react fast enough when two small arms grabbed him violently by the throat and yanked him behind the big sound box. The last thing he saw were cold blue eyes, right before he felt a sharp pain in his neck.

Due to the loud music no one but Hattie heard the loud crack that the cervical vertebrae of the penguin made as she snapped his neck. This time the girl didn't dwell on it, she kept telling herself that it was the right thing to do and proceeded toward the exit.

Enrique and Noah must have been able to get rid of the two penguins at the entrance making it easy for her to slip out and get away unnoticed. Crowwing-Station was the closest between their territory and that of the Penguiads, she decided to go there, this whole district would be lit up with alarm sirens in a few minutes, and she really didn't want to be anywhere near when that happened.

“Don't ye worry, lass. Just gotta go out fer a moment.” The yellow feathered leader of the Leowles grabbed his heavy leather coat before leaving to check out what those peck necks did to one of his beloved trains. It would slow him down a bit, but the extra protection it offered more than made up for that inconvenience.

“What I don't do ta keep this business goin'”

The owls at the central station avoided looking at him and stayed out of their leader's path lest they risked getting yelled at or insulted or worse, stabbed. He contemplated taking his favorite train there, but decided against it, he'd probably kill someone if it got even a scratch. Instead, he took one of their beat up, ill-maintained cars, that were hardly ever in use to begin with. It shouldn't take him long to assess the damage and figure out how to fix it.

When he arrived the supposedly broken train was at the station, just like they told him. While he slowly approached, he wondered where the owls were and assumed that they were probably somewhere at the front, cowering in fear from his wrath or something. He scoffed when he noticed one of the front wheels being horribly dented, he honestly wondered how they messed up so bad that the whole wheel looked like it got hit by a sledgehammer. The longer he looked at it the angrier he got, so he decided to go inside to find those wretched cowards.

“Quit hidin' ye peck necks and get over 'ere!” The ear-like feathers on the right side of his head twitched in annoyance, as he got to the front, they rose in shock instead, as he saw the dead bodies of the owls that were assigned to this train. Something glittered on the seat, he assumed that it were shards of the broken windshield, but when he took a closer look he found that it were in fact jewels.

His non-visible eyes widened with realization, that was also the moment he heard the sound of sirens that increased in volume which caused the owl to bolted out as fast as he could. He already knew that he was too late when he saw the red and blue lights and a mere second later, the car routed the corner and shined its bright headlights on him.

The owl rose his arms in defeat before looking over in the direction of the night club “Well played, DJ Peck neck, well played...but this isnae over.” He mumbled, as the police men exited their vehicles to arrest him. He knew that the lass wouldn't fail him.

Even though the cold iron shackles that would remain on his wings for years to come, that were so tight that they started to bruise him, the yellow owl still smiled as the ground shook, people started screaming in sheer terror and a part of the entertainment district went up in flames.

'We're in big trouble, boss! The Leowles caught wind of our plan, they ambushed us!'

'I-I'm scared, grandpa...I think...we're all gonna die.'

Bow's sobbing and crying voice tormented his thoughts. His mind conjuring up a multitude of horrible outcomes for the mission. Not even loud music or the company of the penguins managed to distract him from these ever worsening daytime nightmares.

He ran a flipper through his big afro and took a deep breath. He attempted to rid his mind of those detrimental thoughts in which his penguins were screaming in fear and running for their lives, while Bow tried her best to fend off wave after wave of owls that hurt her more and more. Instead, he tried to focus on the bitter scrunched up face and the deep scowl of his much hated enemy, after the cops cuffed him and stuffed him behind bars for the rest of his miserable life.

A small smile lingered on his beak as a door swung open and almost slammed in his face, the perpetrator being none other than the, still a bit shaken but now at least a bit better, Marcus.

The smaller penguin almost dropped the plates with food he had been carrying when he noticed that he almost hit the DJ. “How is it going, boss?”

“A bit too great, darling, lots of patrons. I hope the plan works.” The smaller penguin followed him down the hall, at least a small conversation would get his mind off things, he figured.

“You worry too much, boss. I'm sure it's going to be fine. Bow is a smart kid, and you spent hours working on this plan, no way is it going to fail.” It was good to see the smile that had been absent from his friend for what felt like years.

This penguin...this penguin who got traumatized by his failure, that had seen countless comrades die, who still trusted him and was supportive of him despite all of that, almost made him cry. “Thank you, darling, you're right. I should trust Bow and the others.”

He continued to talk to Marcus for a while before the latter had to go and served the tuna sandwiches that had nearly ended up spilled all over DJ Grooves clothes, a fiasco he was glad he avoided. That was also when the DJ noted that he hadn't eaten anything aside from breakfast the day prior. Since those sandwiches looked very tasty, he decided to make one for himself, so he went to the communal kitchen to get some.

He absentmindedly started to hum a little song to himself, as he opened the cupboard to get a plate before cutting two slices from the loaf of bread that Marcus must have forgotten to return to its proper spot. The tall bird tapped his chin in thought of what condiment he should use. Ketchup?, no, they only had the awful-tasting store-brand one that everyone but him loved for some indiscernible reason. A cold shiver ran over him that nearly made him nauseous when the thought of mayonnaise crossed his mind, how anyone ever could eat a product made primarily out of eggs was repulsive. With no other option he went with ranch.

As he went to get a new can of tuna from the storage room, he took note of the time, 03:30am, he started to worry a bit since 40 minutes had already passed since the start of the mission, but he assured himself that it was still fine. As if on cue, Dave and his crew barged in through the back doors and swarmed him. With glee and excitement they informed him that everything went according to plan, that was all he could take away from it anyway as they were talking over each other with wild exuberant gestures. He had to send them away for now so they could calm down a bit, their shouting was giving him a headache.

He resumed humming a tune to himself, now even louder and happier. His good mood shifted into unease when he heard a quiet ticking noise coming from the shelves as soon as he entered the storage room. It made his feathers stand on end. He approached the shelf, praying that it was just a hallucination created by his overworked mind. The plate clattered to the floor as he moved a can and found four red numbers ticking down mercilessly.

Even though he had seen it coming, it still took him a moment to fully comprehend what the item was that was now showing the numbers 07:21. He could hear his subordinates talking outside the room, which snapped him out of his trance. He needed to get the penguins out now!

He bolted out of the room and ran to the microphone at his turntables. “Everyone evacuate the building immediately, there is a bomb on the premises! I'm not joking, get out at once!” Some of the penguins near the entrance opened the doors wide as the guest tripped over each other in panic, pushing and shoving each other around. He watched them leave for a moment before remembering that there were still a few Penguiads backstage. He dropped the mic, not caring about the terrible shrieking noise it made as it hit the floor.

The penguins in the backrooms got startled and ran for their lives as soon as he tore the doors open and explained the dire situation in one sentence. He ripped open door after door in the long hallway, fear seeping further into his bones with every second that passed.

When he finally checked every room, he, too, sprinted for the exit as fast as his legs would carry him. The DJ routed the corner his shoes screeching at the sharp turn. His eyes were looked on the exit, almost there.

When he felt a singing heat, more painful when everything he had ever felt before ,as he got ripped of his feet.

Hattie ran toward the station checking her watch again, 03:43, just four more minutes until the Penguiads were no more. She stopped running instinctively due to the sound of an all too familiar siren filling the air. She ducked down and saw them head toward the station.....wait the station.

“CONDUCTOR!”

He went there, didn't he? He had said so right before he ended the call. She ran to the building closest to the station and made her way on its roof, at the same time, she tried multiple times to call him, but he didn't pick up.

Her blood froze in her veins when she spotted the silhouette of a very familiar young girl observing the scene that played out below.

#dead bird metro au #ahit fanfic #a hat in time #ahit #ahit conductor #ahit dj grooves #ahit hat kid #ahit bow kid #inspired by an au from #@the confuktor

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ninja8tyu · 5 years

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My therapist told me once that a lot of people see therapists, but it doesn’t seem like that because it’s not like people tell others about it.

Now that I’m writing this, I question why snapshoting your lunch is more interesting than therapy, but I digress.

I’m going to tell you about what it’s like to go see therapists. It isn’t as bad as others make it out to be, and it means nothing bad to go see one; only that you are taking care of your mental health. Push away people who say that you’re demented.

I went through multiple therapists through childhood. I was never told why, but I can deduce it.

If it wasn’t the autistic breakdowns and anger issues, along with constant bullying and disproportionate retaliation (I still think it’s fair), I have no clue.

But before I do go on wholesome journey, I’m going to give an example in my life where a therapist (if that was a therapist; my memory only recalls an interview-like room, but it’s indeterminate if it was a therapist or not, as it seemed to be more of a questioning and interrogation rather than the therapy I know of, but i suppose it still applies, as people around my age at the time, I feel, would feel uncomfy talking to adults (I’m more comfy talking to adults than kids my age, just to note, according to other people and personal affirmation) and a therapist may seem intimidating because of the age gap or size difference) basically contributed to my anxiety and distrust in everyone.

Not to bring hate to that therapist, but at the same time, go back to the kitchen bitch, but how this therapist destroyed my trust is basically because I made a terrible joke. Being autistic didn’t grant me the normal ability to determine what was okay to say in certain situations the moment I was born, and I had to learn it throughout life. I think I was frustrated with my mom over my computer (which now I realize how deep my addiction to the web goes) and joked about an elaborate plan that would hurt my mom if she took it away.

Now, this joke was a joke because it was impossible to pull at my age. Putting myself in her shoes, I wonder what she would be thinking. Did she take the joke too seriously? Did she actually consider a 7 year old a threat to human life? Fuck if I know, but my mom was contacted, and boy, did I stop trusting them then.

In defense of her, that was still a threat, and therefore better safe than sorry. In attack towards her, your idiocy fucked me up enough to not make proper use of mental health professionals. The defense is weak in that my threat was empty and fangless. Weighing the options, I think that the dumbest option was chosen (which is why I doubt her status as a therapist: she’s clinically retarded).

So because of that incident, I didn’t really had a fun time with therapists after a very long time, up until high school.

From what my therapist said, it seems like people like me make the mistake that seeing a therapist and/or taking medication is a magical cure to depression and all our personality problems. I can attest to that.

They do not engage in mind-control or the mystical arts. They are more like conversation partners than anything else.

The mistake we make is thinking that something else will solve our problem, but the truth is that the change we want has to come from us. The therapists and medicine helps to aid it, not make it come to be.

I didn’t think that medicine or therapy would help me though, as before high school, I believed that I was right the entire time, and the world was fucked up.

Well, the world is still fucked up, sharing some of the reasons why I believed why that is plus more, but not all of it that ended up to be delusions.

I spent my time telling the therapists how I’m right, and explaining my reasoning. Lucky that I didn’t pass them off as mind-controlled too, and tried to debate rather than go flat-earther over global morality. I guess I assumed that I was powerful enough to wipe mind control or I could appeal to their reason and emotion to destroy the control, assuming it was there. Fuck if I know. I wanna know what that little brat that was once me was thinking as well. But I digress.

The therapists I saw, the visits don’t really stick into my head, but I recall them always suggesting new possibilities in my head. Rather than linear thinking, they suggested other thoughts that might have occurred with others. Now that I’m typing this, I feel that something I might have done back then in response was “well, it’s a stupid way of thinking, and they should go die” which would explain why I didn’t just become a better person then. It’s because I was more smarter back then than now. I overthink and try to live in theory, rather than see and know what is in front of me, and living in the world I know I’m in. After all, I can’t apply “everyone has good will” when I’m living in “everyone is out to get you, literally, just check your memories and the fact that they’re still doing it”. But I digress.

Eventually, therapy stopped. If I ever went to see a therapist, it was because I was in trouble. Saw my counselor too, who basically acted like one.

Anxiety and depression basically were gangbanging me during the time, and I was controlled by constant fear and wanting to kill everyone the first chance I got where no one would be left surviving. Never happened for obvious reasons. Also, the US didn’t give me nuclear codes. Nor did ISIS give me an AK. No one trusts me with a weapon, which is oddly funny and annoying. But I digress.

My mental state went to shit. I remember reading in a report where it included a history of my past “misconduct”, one event that I found funny was the fact that they recorded a threat I made. It included ripping someone’s mouth off and shoving it in their ear so they could hear what they were saying. I hold my child self in high regard for this reason, but at the same time, I also want to shoot him for doing stupid shit that I wouldn’t do in clarity. He’s still a legend in my eyes, but I digress.

My counselor wasn’t a therapist, but damn did she pull me out of a portion of my depression. She played a major part for putting trust in other people. Depression and anxiety took over, I didn’t want to hold it in anymore, and so I told her that she thought I was a nuisance, that she should just stop pretending to be nice, and just toss me aside. She said that she did care for me, though in an angry voice. She was mad that I put words in her mouth. But her words told me that people weren’t all out to get me, and that I’m not hated behind everyone’s backs. I didn’t think and still do think that people can’t lie when they are angry like that.

Then high school came. I had just about it with depression, and I asked to go see a therapist for antidepressants. I didn’t really trust therapists that much still, but somehow, that step made me effectively use the help I got. But yeah.

My therapist noted how the first time I met her, I was like “I’m just here for my magic drugs. Nothing else.” Funny, looking back at it. The therapy helped more than the antidepressants.

I managed to convince my “drugs are brainwash” parents (who are stupid and easily manipulative (often exploited by my brother to make me feel worse), which, even if they disagreed, an annoying child begging for it will always win against such parents, and while it never got to that point, I got the help) to let me get antidepressants (due to cheap price, studying effects of it, also my therapist helped) to help me get better.

I asked someone on tumblr as an anon who I knew was taking antidepressants, and the key thing I took was that the drug is not going to instantly cure me. It isn’t an instant happy pill. It’s a clutch that helps you move through life. Some people even life with depression, never really getting rid of it completely, but they learn to live with it regardless.

My experience with taking antidepressants were introductory, or for mild depression (just to note, I have dysthymia). It made me less dead on the inside. Didn’t make me happy, but I noticed a lack of apathy.

I don’t think the drugs worked because of my more severe depression, and the more obvious reason: my family was making me miserable and suicidal.

You can’t get over depression when people are continuing to put you down. I’m finding a fond interest in murder and torture because of them. I want to get over it, but if I have a toxic family who counteracts any help I get to my mental state, then what’s the result going to be? Hint: I don’t get better.

Family therapy is out of the question, and getting professional help for the biggest fucker contributing to it (brother) is too, since “mind-control” and “government conspiracy” and “I’m crazy, literally, being autistic and all”. So yeah. 17 years wasted wallowing in depression because of a shitty state in a shitty country and shitty family. If I haven’t expressed my rage for my family and those who have made me miserable enough, just take it as true that if I have the ability to, I would enact something that would put a number of people countable on two hands through the type of hell that rivals the holocaust and gulags with their tens of millions of people who suffered in terms of inhumanity and immorality. I digress.

And then I cut myself for the first time. Thanks to my big brother. My mental state was no longer stable, and also the start of when I get kicked out of two discord groups consecutively.

I was still too scared to tell my therapist more about my life out of fear that I’d be sent to a mental hospital, so I went onto the internet, where I could vent about my problems and express my rage anonymously and safely (ignoring hackers and the like).

During this time, I learned a lot of things that really hit me and hurt damn badly, and I couldn’t really blame half of them because it was quite literally caused by me. Venting around on the web didn’t turn out so good.

I’m worth no more than shit to someone I know to be intelligent, whom I had assumed before then that only geniuses could understand the pain I went through. The person here also went through rough shit, possibly worse than I ever had. I had no excuse nor explanation to myself why this is other than that it is what it is, and what is, is that I’m worth below that of manure.

Then I joined a community full of degenerates. The thing that hits me lightly is that I got rejected by a bunch of misfits in society, who are literal nazis, hypocrites, criminals, rejects, et cetera. I want a majority of the people in there dead. I learned a few things like that the people with power are the people you must obey, or you will suffer. I learned that corruption isn’t given a damn about. Systems will gladly run on immorality, so long as it isn’t moral yet. I earn that people are actually willing to us any amount of effort to put up facades to be nice while they absolutely despise you behind their backs.

Alternate accounts let me find some of things people have said while I was banned. I hated it.

I’m pretty sure some of my fits of rage online are on some cringe comp, but I digress.

And then my weekly visit with my therapist came around. My mental state becoming worse and worse, starting with my brother who actively makes me miserable, to being banned from places I felt belonging to because of my mental instability, I had no fear of going to a mental hospital.

Better there than with a shitty family that makes me miserable. I couldn’t care less what drugs they inject into me, so long as it helps me.

I walked in, telling her that I no longer fear going to a mental hospital. I’m going to be honest. There is nothing good left to lose. Just the bad is left to lose, and I’m begging on the inside to lose them.

And then I cried. Told her about how I felt worthless, powerless, useless, a waste, how miserable my life felt, and so on and so on.

I expressed my rage, and how I hated them. I wanted them dead. I never deserved this. What did I do to deserve this? Why give birth to me to make me go through hell? I never asked to be born, and yet people are treating me as if I decided to be born in hell.

Yeah, death threats I made. I’m lucky my therapist didn’t just call the FBI and sick ‘em on me. She was understanding, and knew I was going through a bad time. Not everyone gets the same treatment, I understand, but I have a point here.

The thing I feel about letting it all out, is that because I let it all-out, I’m open to judgement, and therefore correction. My therapist talked with me, I put out my thoughts, she did hers, and the problems begin to become solved. Though, having an interest in psychology and sharing basic knowledge of it helped exponentially. Also, working on emotional intelligence helped too.

I feel that most people don’t really talk about their problems, and they never resolve themselves. They may hold some kind of opinion or thought that would be really bad to have if a situation popped up where they applied that. And when it pops up, they then make a bad decision. But of course, they can’t talk to anyone about them out of fear of judgement.

I feel that therapy works best when you’re honest and unafraid of judgement. You have to be willing to put out your thoughts and let them be vulnerable, and accept when you’re wrong. Also, mental hospitals aren’t that bad, apparently. They do inject strong drugs for people with certain conditions, but that’s because they’re fit to deal with side-effects better than at home or in a standard check-up hospital. Other people’s words, not mine. I haven’t been to one yet.

For me, my problem was to come to terms with the world I believe to be corrupted, and personal problems. I asked why are there killer cops? Why on Earth is the school system built where it rewards bullies but punishes victims? What is the universal cause that turns people bad? Am I the bad guy?

My solution was to let my thoughts be open to be judged and criticized. And it worked for me.

I think I should say that it may not work for you if you go see a therapist. It may not be the best person that would help you, or that you still need time to mentally prep yourself.

As for me, I’m probably not going to see my therapist any more. I’m scare that she’s putting up a kind facade, but actually hates me. I don’t want to be a bratty nuisance that still couldn’t get better after two years and coming back to old issues. I just fear that being true.

My mental state is beginning to deteriorate as a result of being stuck at home with a mentally and emotionally abusive family over the summer. I had starved myself for a short duration (~16 hrs) before realizing that was stupid, and I was basically suggesting to kill my body in an attempt to prove a point (a human can last months without food, but it wouldn’t be worth losing brain development time, especially my life, since I know they wouldn’t be more nicer even if I starved myself).

Also, still no psychiatrist visit for some fucking reason. Medicine can help, but with a family that thinks drugs are products of the devil, it’s more likely for me to go on a psychosis than them ever consider that drugs aren’t that bad. Also, fuck the US for putting a bad name on drugs and the drug war. Literally, not even medical drugs like antidepressants that can help people get better are safe from the toxic culture it bred. Also fuck DARE. You increased drug addiction. Go fuck yourselves. Also fuck the cops for being biased against the mentally ill and the “special” ones. Fuck the system for the same reason. Fuck the world for still thinking they’re morally upright when they still do immoral acts. Fuck the people who let it happen for any reason. Fuck this snowflake society that can’t do anything but complain, because a revolt would be too much work for their fragile asses. Fuck the political system and the government for working based on who pays the most, seldom morality and justice. Fuck my family for being stupid and abusive. Fuck society and how they think that if it isn’t the worst that it could be, then you have no right to complain and correct your problems. Fuck political correctness and how it prioritizes being unoffensive over actually solving problems. Fuck the UN for being incompetent.

#therapy #psychology #my stories #sfw

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bunny-wk-fanfic · 7 years

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Could you write a scenario where Kagome meets Dracula and Alucard ( from Castlevenia) after saving Lisa from the Chrurch? I just finished watching the first season and I am still bitter about the Lisa’s fate...

Oh wow, a happy ending! I love me some happy endings. Here’s my version of said happy ending!

Kagome had thought she’d seen it all and done it all ever since she fell down the well. It was a shock and surprise to be proven wrong.

“Really?” she leaned in closer to the tall and dark imposing male. “You’re Dracula? As in, ‘I want to suck your blood’ Dracula?” the excitement bubbled up in her, not a great mix, since adrenaline was still coursing through her veins. Not to mention she was exhausted and starving.

“I…” he turned to his wife, lips pursing at her apparent amusement at the situation. “Yes. May I ask what you find so amusing?”

“Sorry.” a giggle escaped her, though she was truly sorry, she really couldn’t help it. “This is not funny or amusing in light of what almost happened to your wife. I’m just overwhelmed and apparently laughing right now is how I’m releasing or venting.”

Her eyes fluttered, was she beginning to see spots and doubles? Ah, she might pass out soon. “I mean, I may be suffering from some form of head injury, can’t be sure since it’s all a little fuzzy. I’ve also breathed in enough acids and poisons to wipe out that city back there for the last-” she paused, attempting to recall just how long she fought Naraku in that hellish place. Shaking her head she picked back up as she pressed a hand to her temple. “…since appearing before your wife in a flash of white light. Apparently, I made a good lasting impression on the people with that, would be the first time for that. And I can’t even remember when I last had a decent meal!”

Lisa, Dracula’s wife, paled the more Kagome spoke. “You poor dear!”

Kagome giggled, waving off her worry. “Don’t worry, don’t worry! Not the first time to happen!” she snickered at their appalled looks. Her giggles quickly died down, a hand pressed against her brow. “Oh-! I think… I think… oh, I’m so tired.” she felt how she swayed in her seat, just managing to see their shocked expressions before she tipped and her world went black.

When Kagome became away again, she refused to open her eyes, she’d rather snuggle back into her pillow and sleep the soreness away. She did snort though, wondering how exhausted she had been to dream up meeting Dracula of all people. “…crazy dream…” rolling over, she continued to shuffle so she could get into that comfy spot just against the wall.

When she didn’t feel it right away, her brows furrowed as a heavy hand reached forward. She hadn’t been sleeping on the edge, nor has she passed out the wrong way in bed. So where the heck was the-!

“Ah!” her short cry echoed around her before she fell painfully to the floor, a leg still tangled in the sheets. Wide awake, blue eyes snapped open to take in her surroundings, which did not match her bedroom. At all. “Please. Please at least be Japan…”

Grumbling, she shifted to ignore the obvious signs that said European design rather than Japanese, but she was hoping it could be due to a time difference thing, to look at her leg. Twisting so she could reach for the sheets and work on freeing herself so she could figure out where she was exactly. The rich surroundings were leaving a pit in her stomach.

“I should’ve…” she huffed as she curled up to reach and stay in place to untangle the sheets. “, paid more attention, in gym class!” with a huff, she flopped back, panting as she let her stomach muscles relax. “Done in by bed sheets… if the others could see me now…”

She stared up at the high ceiling, wondering what she had done to earn her current fate. Such cruel and unusual punishment… to be trapped by bedsheets of all things. She raised her head to stare at her trapped foot, noticing that it was beginning to fall asleep, making her wonder how long she had been like that. With a huff and shrug, she dropped her head back onto the surprisingly cushioned carpet beneath her.

Opening her eyes, not having noticed she had even closed them, had her flinching at the sight of a person standing above her. “Gah!” since her foot was still trapped, she rolled to the side as her hands clutched at her chest, her heart not at all prepared for that. After a few moments, she peeked an eye open and glared at the blond male. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack!?”

A blond brow rose as he stared down at her, his gaze soon drifted to her still trapped foot. In fact, he restrained attempt to move away from him seemed to have only made it worse. “My sire heard your cry, but nothing else. He sent me to see if you are in need of any aid.”

Leaning up on her elbows, Kagome turned her contemplative gaze from the male to her trapped foot. “Oh.” biting down on her lower lip, she could only work up a sheepish smile. “If you could please free my foot? I’d be grateful.”

Lips quirked up in a smirk as he approached her, a cool hand gripping her ankle while the other deftly unwrapped the sheet. “I find it hard to believe you are the woman that save my mother.”

Harumphing as she stood up, a strangled whimper leaving her when her foot was instantly covered in that pins and needles sensation, she turned to the male. “Thank you. And for your information…” she trailed off when his words finally filtered through. “Wait. Sire? Mother?”

He gave a nod of his head, watching curiously as her brows furrowed and her gaze drifted off to the side. It took a few moments before they widened and flew up to him in realization. Here came the screaming, the fright, and hate. “Wait. Dracula’s real?! I thought I dreamed all that due to exhaustion!” a groan escaped her as she dropped back onto her bed. “Why… why can’t I have some simple normalcy?”

Adrian was shocked by her reaction, abrupt as it was, it was not at all in the direction he had anticipated. “You thought that you conjured up the meeting with my sire?”

“Well, yes!” blue eyes flew up to him as if the answer were an obvious one. “I mean, he’s Dracula!”

He smiled once again at her reply, she made it sound as if that were all the explanation needed. She was, refreshing. For starters, she did not react to his beauty as other women did, nor did she shy away from him the moment she learned of his nature as others did by cowering, groveling, or lashing out. Other than her surprising comments and remarks, she was treating him as if he were any other person.

“I’m sorry, I’m not usually like this. It’s been a long time since… Again, I apologize.” she bowed her head, hair falling past her shoulders to reveal the back of her neck.

“Yes, Mother did mention that you would be hungry. If you would like to, I’d gladly accompany you to where Mother currently is where you can enjoy something to eat.” he blinked at the wide eyes that turned to him, it was as if he had just offered her complete salvation.

“I’d love too!” she jumped to her feet, making him realize in that moment just how tiny she was compared to him. “Oh! Um, what about…” she looked down at herself, a hand smoothing over her nightgown. “I don’t know if it’s acceptable, but I honestly don’t think I would last long enough if I have to change into something more proper.”

Hearing her concern, and understanding her current plight, Adrian quickly moved to a large wardrobe and easily pulled out a robe and slippers. His Mother would be more than understanding, knowing that one’s health came before proper etiquette. “These will be suitable until you are ready to change.”

She gracefully accepted the items with thanks, slipping into the robe before putting the slippers on by herself. “Again, thank you, for all that you and your family have done for me.” her eyes fluttered when he tucked her arm through his and began to direct her to where she could eat a proper meal, something even he could see she obviously not had in a long time.

“It is our thanks to you, for what you have done for my Mother, saving her life as you had.” he smiled when she seemed to shrug her shoulders.

“It wasn’t like I could stand by and allow those people to continue with something completely barbaric and utterly terrifying.” she scoffed as she shook her head, muttering to herself, even though he heard her. “Witch trials, the complete idiocy that proved to be completely unfounded and the cause of pointless deaths of hundreds. Why are people idiots?”

Smiling as he shook his head, Adrian could honestly say that he was looking forward to getting to know this strange woman better.

#prompts #fanfiction #crossover #shows #Castlevania #Dracula #Lisa Tepes #Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes #Alucard #Kagome Higurashi

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mnemoiisms · 7 years

Note

lov and support the shockfish

Look, I am not a spiteful person when it comes to animals. I love them. I want to be a zoologist when I can afford the debt because they fascinate me to no end. Except the sunfish. Its not an ironic thing, its just they are the biggest fucking joke on the planet, and I seriously fucking hate them.

AND YA’LL KEEP MESSAGING ME THANKS TO SHOCKWAVE SO HERE COMES A RANT SINCE YA WONT QUIT!

LETS BEGIN!

The Mola Mola, or Ocean Sunfish.

First recorded in history around1200 B.C - 400 A.D and a direct link back to the Mesozoic Era, you know that big hacky-sack of a meteor God dropped and killed 96% of all Marine life and like 70% of everything else? Yeah, that era.

They are the world’s largest boney fish, weighing up to 5,000 pounds. And since they have very little girth, that just makes them these absolutely giant fucking dinner plates that God must have accidentally dropped while washing dishes one day and shrugged his shoulders at because no one could have imagined this would happen. And with no purpose. Every pound of that is a wasted pound and every foot of it (10 ft by 14 ft) is wasted space.

They are so completely useless that scientists even debate about how they move. They have little control other than some minor wiggling. Some say they must just push water out of their mouths for direction (?????). They COULD use their back fin EXCEPT GUESS WHAT IT, DOESN'T FUCKING GROW. It just continually folds in on itself, so the freaking cells are being made, this piece of floating garbage just doesn’t put them where they need to fucking go.They also don’t have swim bladders. You know, the one thing that every fish has to make sure it doesn’t just sink to the bottom of the ocean when they stop moving and can stay the right side up. This creature. That can barely move to begin with. Can never stop its continuous tour of idiocy across the ocean or it’ll fucking sink. EXCEPT. EXCEPT. When they get stuck on top of the water! Which happens frequently! Because without the whole swim bladder thing, if the ocean pushes over THE THINNEST BUT LARGEST MOST TOPPLE-ABLE FISH ON THE PLANET, shit outta luck! There is no creature on this earth that needs a swim bladder more than this spit in the face of nature, AND YET. Some scientists have speculated that when they do that, they are absorbing energy from the sun because no one fucking knows how they manage to get any real energy to begin with. So they need the sun I guess. But good news, when they end up stuck like that, it gives birds a chance to land on their goddamn island of a body and eat the bugs and parasites out of its skin because it’s basically a slowly migrating cesspool, which then get infected, turn septic, and it dies. Pros and cons!

“If they are so huge, they must at least be decent predators.” Nope!The most dangerous thing about them is, as you may have guessed, their own stupidity. They have caused the death of one person before. Because it jumped onto a boat. On a human. And in 2005 it decided to relive its mighty glory days and do it again, this time landing on a four-year-old boy. Luckily Byron sustained no injuries. Way to go, fish. Great job.

Couple that with its inability to ‘logic’ when it comes to predators or tourists who can swim right up to it and sit on the little fuckers because they don’t know how to do anything but float along in the current hoping something edible bumps into them. Of which!

They mostly only eat jellyfish, because of course they do, they could only eat something that has no brain and a possibility of drifting into their mouths I guess. Everything they do eat has almost zero nutritional value and because it’s so stupidly fucking big, it has to eat a ton of the almost no nutritional value stuff to stay alive. What a dumb ass. See that ridiculous open mouth? “Oh no! What could have happened! How could this be!” Do not let that expression fool you, they just don’t have the goddamn ability to close their mouths because their teeth are fused together, and ya know what, it is good it floats around with such a clueless expression on its face, because it is in fact clueless as all fuck.

They do SOMETIMES get eaten though. But hardly due to the fact no animal truly uses them as a food source aside a tasteless and unnutritional delicacy in high end Asia-Pacific cuisine, but most ocean dwellers instead will usually just maim the fuck out of them for kicks like sharks, orcas, dolphins, and seals. Seals have been seen playing with their fins like frisbees. Probably the most useful thing to ever come from them.“Wow, you raise some good points here, this fish truly is proof that God has abandoned us.” Yes, thank you. “But if they’re so bad at literally everything, why haven’t they gone extinct?” Great question.

Because this thing is so worthless it doesn't realize it should not exist. It is so unaware of literally fucking everything that it doesn’t realize that it’s doing maybe the worst fucking job of being a fish, or debatably the worst job of being a cluster of cells than any other cluster of cells. So what does it do? It lays the most eggs out of everything at any one time, rivaled only by ants by quantity over time.

It will lay 300 million eggs at one time. That’s no an extra zero there people. Three hundred million eggs. Here is a baby called ‘sunfish fry’, which resemble miniature puffer fish, with large pectoral fins, a tail fin, and body spines uncharacteristic of the adult sunfish but hey! This fish is anything but logical so why am I even surprised anymore.

It survives because it would be statistically improbable, dare I say impossible, that there wouldn’t be at least one of those 300,000,000 (that is each time they lay eggs) left surviving at the end of the day.

And this concludes why I hate the fuck out of this complete failure of evolution;the Ocean Sunfish.

If I ever see one, I will throw rocks at it.

Now, excuse me. I am going to go vent at some poor civilization on Age of Empires.

#crxsshairxs #Trepan's Sunfish Discourse of 2018 #long post is long #not even sorry

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sweetlifetownsville · 5 years

Text

Hard Going Getting On Top Of The Hill: The Mayor's Magnificent Mount Louisa Make-Over Might Stumble At The First Jump

The most interesting rumour has just floated into the Nest. Its unverified (well duh, thats why its called a rumour) so well have to wait until the Astonisher plays catchup sometime this week. The Pie hears that the only two tenderers for the new stadiums ultra-lucrative catering contract , one being the incumbent Spotless and one being the Cowboys Leagues Club, have both been excluded for non compliant tenders to do with not paying award wages. So back to square one for the new stadium and where does that leave Spotless in the current stadium? For the answer, check the Astonisher around oh, say, next Friday, by when Lozza Lancini will have told iditor Jenna Cairney what she can say about this. Pell Mell Nothing has been quite as spectacular in the annals of fallen high flyers than that of George Pell, who has swapped his glittering Mardi Gras cardinals robes for prison drab, after being sent to chokey for six years (to serve 3 years and 8 months before eligible for parole) for what only be described as the most brazen, power-deluded child abuse imaginable. Indeed so brazen as to leave lingering doubts among some observers whether such things couldve happened as described, but an appeal will sort that out, after all, the jury knows things that we do not. Now Georgy Boy faces another biased jury his fellow inmates, a class of folk not known for their strict adherence to jurisprudence rules and who exercise their own summary justice according to their own morals and mythology. And Bentley reckons you never know who youre going to bump in in the Yard.

And The Pie says to those who say the term is not enough, rest assured, for a man of Pells pomposity, ego and age, he has been handed a life sentence of one sort or another. One imagines there is one person who will give Judge Peter Kidd the thumbs up.

Shifty Business Delivering on promises is a tricky business, especially when our mayor is in campaign mode. Today, we were offered this little bit of click bait.

But when we went through to the story, what we got was this

Uncanny how this is so ambiguous, like the Castle Hill upgrade itself. Now this is media sleight of hand at its clumsiest, making a highly speculative project sound like solid fact. Interesting because it simply that the TCC will start drawing up plans for what it would like to see at Mt Louisa and crucially for mayor Mullet is the quote: with construction expected by the end of the year. Community engagement started this week and will continue until the end of April. The Pie thought, well thats a nice idea, if conveniently timed to become a re-election boast, but hey, good for the huffnpuff crowd. Then this morning, (Sat) an email fluttered into the Nest. From Angela Sacilotto Councillor Jenny Hills grand plan for Mt Louisa is another political stunt with council elections due in March 2020. TCC do not own all of Mt Louisa. I own a 8 ha block right across the middle of the hill. I have told TCC I do not want to sell. Havent been able to verify Ms Sacilottos information, but she volunteered her contact details and phone number if The Pie wanted a chat about the matter (which for reasons well known to regular readers, is not a viable option since the recent operation.) But The Pie would guess there will be whole lot more to the meaning of community engagement when Mayor Mullet reads this. it is known that Jenny Hill does not like being crossed by people with legal rights who stand in the way of her grand visions, so this community engagement with Ms Sacilotto could involve nipple clamps, a car battery and wet towels . But That May Be The Least Of Her Problems Cant reveal too much at the moment, but our mayor is being officially investigated possible misconduct over her Adani links, particularly arising out of her trip to India. This will not be a revelation on her, because she has been informed of the issue by the Brisbane based investigating body, and what is officially termed overt inquiries are underway. Perhaps no biggy (but then again ) but not a great look for someone who once expressed her admiration for Ipswich Mayor Pisasale. What Dreams May Come, As Willy Shakespeare Once Said All this has led to The Magpie being told that Jenny, a Hitchcock fan, recently watched his classic The Birds, but when she went to bed, she had an horrific dream.

Serves her right for throwing darts at a much loved and protected Australian species. THIS WEEKS CONTENDERS FOR THE CODSWALLOP CUP Its a crowded field. Cmon, Really? Cmon now, seriously Jenna Cairney? Is this all youve got?

Listen, me dear old haggis-head, getting shocked by a menu may apply to a Korean doggy delicacy, a Vietnamese cockroach kebab or the price of a pie at the footy, but because this mob is adding burgers bloody good old Aussie burgers we Aussie snowflakes should be shocked? Do you not understand how insulting this advertorial pap is? One seriously has to question whether the decision makers who publish this clap trap have an IQ above room temperature. A Group Effort Where to start with this one, the inanity is of such magnitude that The Pie is tempted to inaugurate the Clusterfuck Cup as a separate category.

This mind-blowing little corker of an idea is called the Palmer Street Precinct Activation project, and involves wait for it a bit of new lighting along the street, and a new sign saying hang on again Palmer Street.

The plan was obviously to give re-election hopefuls a bit of sorely needed publicity (youd think on recent photographic evidence, Messagebank Walker and Ann-Maree Greaney are going steady). But for other reasons, the story raised both an eyebrow and a guffaw at the same time. Chef/restaurateur Matt Merrin, normally a sensible and successful man, made a right goof of himself when he (reportedly) told the paper the changes would transform Palmer Street into a world class destination. It will be something that visitors to Townsville can Instagram, take photos of and sell the message to the world. Its going to bring new investment back to Palmer Street (question: how does new investment come back?) Weve had many restaurants close over the last 12 months, this will inspire new restaurant owners and people to come back into Palmer Street and be part of the precinct it once was. A world class destination? Matt, a message from The Magpie, mate lay off the cooking sherry and exotic herbs before talking to the Astonisher (FFS, mate, youre even holding your glass crooked.) The story also informs us The dining strip received some upgrades during the preparations for the Commonwealth Games last year. Oh did it? Very similar upgrades in scale to the ones now proposed , as The Pie remembers. So in the year since that spruce up, two Palmer Street nose-baggeries have gone belly-up. But somehow, this one is going to usher in a new era? Hows that? But heres the best bit in the original story, Ann-Maree Greaney said the lighting would keep people, particularly women, safer that apparent admission that the council has allowed Palmer Street to operate without adequately safe lighting for years has now been removed from the story. What fucking planet are you from, you lot? Reporter Chris Lees, have you no dignity? Or sober judgement? Did TCC media gopfer Simpo Templeton have anything to do with this, its about his speed? Well, anyway Anthony, unlike the when at the Astonisher, at least in your TCC role you dont have to put your name to your cock-ups. 3. Off The Rails Then on Thursday, we had this little bit of fluffy irrelevancy.

But no sooner had this flimsy kite taken to the sky, than the Astonisher itself cut the string on Friday with this:

What city rail plan? There wasnt any, the original story was a campaigning thought-fart from the desperate Clr Jacob. Clever though, isnt it write bullshit one day and call it out as bullshit the next. Gotta luv the ol Astonisher. A Miscellaneous Magpie Whinge The Magpie is deliberately not talking about or seeking comment on the massacre in New Zealand, he has no words, certainly none that would contribute positively to this dark deed of pure evil. But coverage does prompt The Pie to vent about a favourite piece of nanny state demeaning idiocy can we please move away from the rubber-faced sign language person standing next to officials who are often making statements about deeply disturbing matters. Often signing involves grotesque and to the uninitiated completely inappropriate comical facial expressions. This presents the twin problems of distraction for the general audience and indignity for the subject of the media conference.The Pie doesnt know what the average deaf audience would be at any given time not many one would guess and yes, there are times like bushfire and flood updates where this information should be conveyed in this manner. But shit folks, heres a newsflash for more 60 years now, real time lower screen captioning has been available, or as all sports directors so slickly employ technology for a smaller, less distracting vision box to one corner. To currently give such a minority a so distracting and undignified presence is not necessary and lacks dignity, and disturbs concentration on what can be vital messages. Of course, nanny staters wont agree. Speaking Of The Nanny State Our evolving language, not always for the better, now features the term woke, as in are you woke to climate change? or any number of other social issues. It means are you alert to, but as so often happens, we too readily adopt the argot of the ill-educated as some sort expression of being cool and identifying with a group one wouldnt normally break bread with. The lovely thing about this nonsensical use of substitute language leaves it wide open for hysterically funny skewering and in this classic piss take Are You Woke? from a fed up Tracey Ullman. The Clock Is A-Ticking The Brexit imbroglio is increasingly hard to follow (or for The Pie, to care much about) but one of the cleverest pictorial comments the predicament of Theresa (dis)May(ed) comes from the Guardians Steve Bell.

And More Of The Same From Trumpistan A lot of attention continues to surround the tumble of democrats eager to take on President Trumpet at the polls next year. And the interest has been heightened by someone not running.

. The ducking, weaving and hilarity of the comments section runs 24/7, so give us of your best, folks. And if you like the blog, you can show your appreciation with some sorely needed financial support, the how to donate button is below. http://www.townsvillemagpie.com.au/hard-going-getting-on-top-of-the-hill-the-mayors-magnificent-mount-louisa-make-over-might-stumble-at-the-first-jump/

0 notes

sweetlifetownsville · 5 years

Text

Hard Going Getting On Top Of The Hill: The Mayor's Magnificent Mount Louisa Make-Over Might Stumble At The First Jump

Shifty Business Delivering on promises is a tricky business, especially when our mayor is in campaign mode. Today, we were offered this little bit of click bait.

But when we went through to the story, what we got was this

But no sooner had this flimsy kite taken to the sky, than the Astonisher itself cut the string on Friday with this:

0 notes

sweetlifetownsville · 5 years

Text

Hard Going Getting On Top Of The Hill: The Mayor's Magnificent Mount Louisa Make-Over Might Stumble At The First Jump

And Jenny knows about the problem, but is blithely telling us its all go, when it may well be all stop. The Pie shares a most interesting email. The old bird can reveal that Mayor Jenny Hill IS under investigation by Brisbane authorities for possible misconduct and watching all the fumbling inanities coming over the next 12 months in the run-up to local council elections is going to be more fun than watching a blind man trying to get out of a door knob factory. To that end, The Pie this week introduces a new occasional award, The Codswallop Cup. No shortage of contenders. Also, our new white ele sorry, stadium, has hit more turbulence as it rises from the mud and Lozza Lancini will not be a happy chappy. Bentley has a say on George Pells new lifestyle And our regular gallery from Trumpistan. First, Hot Of The Rumour Mill The most interesting rumour has just floated into the Nest. Its unverified (well duh, thats why its called a rumour) so well have to wait until the Astonisher plays catchup sometime this week. The Pie hears that the only two tenderers for the new stadiums ultra-lucrative catering contract , one being the incumbent Spotless and one being the Cowboys Leagues Club, have both been excluded for non compliant tenders to do with not paying award wages. So back to square one for the new stadium and where does that leave Spotless in the current stadium? For the answer, check the Astonisher around oh, say, next Friday, by when Lozza Lancini will have told iditor Jenna Cairney what she can say about this. Pell Mell Nothing has been quite as spectacular in the annals of fallen high flyers than that of George Pell, who has swapped his glittering Mardi Gras cardinals robes for prison drab, after being sent to chokey for six years (to serve 3 years and 8 months before eligible for parole) for what only be described as the most brazen, power-deluded child abuse imaginable. Indeed so brazen as to leave lingering doubts among some observers whether such things couldve happened as described, but an appeal will sort that out, after all, the jury knows things that we do not. Now Georgy Boy faces another biased jury his fellow inmates, a class of folk not known for their strict adherence to jurisprudence rules and who exercise their own summary justice according to their own morals and mythology. And Bentley reckons you never know who youre going to bump in in the Yard. And The Pie says to those who say the term is not enough, rest assured, for a man of Pells pomposity, ego and age, he has been handed a life sentence of one sort or another. One imagines there is one person who will give Judge Peter Kidd the thumbs up. Shifty Business Delivering on promises is a tricky business, especially when our mayor is in campaign mode. Today, we were offered this little bit of click bait. But when we went through to the story, what we got was this Uncanny how this is so ambiguous, like the Castle Hill upgrade itself. Now this is media sleight of hand at its clumsiest, making a highly speculative project sound like solid fact. Interesting because it simply that the TCC will start drawing up plans for what it would like to see at Mt Louisa and crucially for mayor Mullet is the quote: with construction expected by the end of the year. Community engagement started this week and will continue until the end of April. The Pie thought, well thats a nice idea, if conveniently timed to become a re-election boast, but hey, good for the huffnpuff crowd. Then this morning, (Sat) an email fluttered into the Nest. From Angela Sacilotto Councillor Jenny Hills grand plan for Mt Louisa is another political stunt with council elections due in March 2020. TCC do not own all of Mt Louisa. I own a 8 ha block right across the middle of the hill. I have told TCC I do not want to sell. Havent been able to verify Ms Sacilottos information, but she volunteered her contact details and phone number if The Pie wanted a chat about the matter (which for reasons well known to regular readers, is not a viable option since the recent operation.) But The Pie would guess there will be whole lot more to the meaning of community engagement when Mayor Mullet reads this. it is known that Jenny Hill does not like being crossed by people with legal rights who stand in the way of her grand visions, so this community engagement with Ms Sacilotto could involve nipple clamps, a car battery and wet towels . But That May Be The Least Of Her Problems Cant reveal too much at the moment, but our mayor is being officially investigated possible misconduct over her Adani links, particularly arising out of her trip to India. This will not be a revelation on her, because she has been informed of the issue by the Brisbane based investigating body, and what is officially termed overt inquiries are underway. Perhaps no biggy (but then again ) but not a great look for someone who once expressed her admiration for Ipswich Mayor Pisasale. What Dreams May Come, As Willy Shakespeare Once Said All this has led to The Magpie being told that Jenny, a Hitchcock fan, recently watched his classic The Birds, but when she went to bed, she had an horrific dream. Serves her right for throwing darts at a much loved and protected Australian species. THIS WEEKS CONTENDERS FOR THE CODSWALLOP CUP Its a crowded field. Cmon, Really? Cmon now, seriously Jenna Cairney? Is this all youve got? Listen, me dear old haggis-head, getting shocked by a menu may apply to a Korean doggy delicacy, a Vietnamese cockroach kebab or the price of a pie at the footy, but because this mob is adding burgers bloody good old Aussie burgers we Aussie snowflakes should be shocked? Do you not understand how insulting this advertorial pap is? One seriously has to question whether the decision makers who publish this clap trap have an IQ above room temperature. A Group Effort Where to start with this one, the inanity is of such magnitude that The Pie is tempted to inaugurate the Clusterfuck Cup as a separate category. This mind-blowing little corker of an idea is called the Palmer Street Precinct Activation project, and involves wait for it a bit of new lighting along the street, and a new sign saying hang on again Palmer Street. The plan was obviously to give re-election hopefuls a bit of sorely needed publicity (youd think on recent photographic evidence, Messagebank Walker and Ann-Maree Greaney are going steady). But for other reasons, the story raised both an eyebrow and a guffaw at the same time. Chef/restaurateur Matt Merrin, normally a sensible and successful man, made a right goof of himself when he (reportedly) told the paper the changes would transform Palmer Street into a world class destination. It will be something that visitors to Townsville can Instagram, take photos of and sell the message to the world. Its going to bring new investment back to Palmer Street (question: how does new investment come back?) Weve had many restaurants close over the last 12 months, this will inspire new restaurant owners and people to come back into Palmer Street and be part of the precinct it once was. A world class destination? Matt, a message from The Magpie, mate lay off the cooking sherry and exotic herbs before talking to the Astonisher (FFS, mate, youre even holding your glass crooked.) The story also informs us The dining strip received some upgrades during the preparations for the Commonwealth Games last year. Oh did it? Very similar upgrades in scale to the ones now proposed , as The Pie remembers. So in the year since that spruce up, two Palmer Street nose-baggeries have gone belly-up. But somehow, this one is going to usher in a new era? Hows that? But heres the best bit in the original story, Ann-Maree Greaney said the lighting would keep people, particularly women, safer that apparent admission that the council has allowed Palmer Street to operate without adequately safe lighting for years has now been removed from the story. What fucking planet are you from, you lot? Reporter Chris Lees, have you no dignity? Or sober judgement? Did TCC media gopfer Simpo Templeton have anything to do with this, its about his speed? Well, anyway Anthony, unlike the when at the Astonisher, at least in your TCC role you dont have to put your name to your cock-ups. 3. Off The Rails Then on Thursday, we had this little bit of fluffy irrelevancy. But no sooner had this flimsy kite taken to the sky, than the Astonisher itself cut the string on Friday with this: What city rail plan? There wasnt any, the original story was a campaigning thought-fart from the desperate Clr Jacob. Clever though, isnt it write bullshit one day and call it out as bullshit the next. Gotta luv the ol Astonisher. A Miscellaneous Magpie Whinge The Magpie is deliberately not talking about or seeking comment on the massacre in New Zealand, he has no words, certainly none that would contribute positively to this dark deed of pure evil. But coverage does prompt The Pie to vent about a favourite piece of nanny state demeaning idiocy can we please move away from the rubber-faced sign language person standing next to officials who are often making statements about deeply disturbing matters. Often signing involves grotesque and to the uninitiated completely inappropriate comical facial expressions. This presents the twin problems of distraction for the general audience and indignity for the subject of the media conference.The Pie doesnt know what the average deaf audience would be at any given time not many one would guess and yes, there are times like bushfire and flood updates where this information should be conveyed in this manner. But shit folks, heres a newsflash for more 60 years now, real time lower screen captioning has been available, or as all sports directors so slickly employ technology for a smaller, less distracting vision box to one corner. To currently give such a minority a so distracting and undignified presence is not necessary and lacks dignity, and disturbs concentration on what can be vital messages. Of course, nanny staters wont agree. Speaking Of The Nanny State Our evolving language, not always for the better, now features the term woke, as in are you woke to climate change? or any number of other social issues. It means are you alert to, but as so often happens, we too readily adopt the argot of the ill-educated as some sort expression of being cool and identifying with a group one wouldnt normally break bread with. The lovely thing about this nonsensical use of substitute language leaves it wide open for hysterically funny skewering and in this classic piss take Are You Woke? from a fed up Tracey Ullman. The Clock Is A-Ticking The Brexit imbroglio is increasingly hard to follow (or for The Pie, to care much about) but one of the cleverest pictorial comments the predicament of Theresa (dis)May(ed) comes from the Guardians Steve Bell. And More Of The Same From Trumpistan A lot of attention continues to surround the tumble of democrats eager to take on President Trumpet at the polls next year. And the interest has been heightened by someone not running. . The ducking, weaving and hilarity of the comments section runs 24/7, so give us of your best, folks. 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