#and are therefore more complex and expensive

[spirit-lanterns]

I feel like engineer reader would have a very big cabin in the woods that was passed down through there family as well as probably a some amount of political power because only children of engineers or high up politicians can become engineers that can fix the androids and reader fixing big name androids like robin and “proper disposing of them when they malfunction they get paid a hefty amount money. Also how are the androids made are they like boothill and dead humans turned into androids

Androids are not dead humans in my AU. Androids are full machines that look like humans and take after the characteristics of humans depending on their programming!

Also yes, the Engineer herself is a very respected and well known Android fixer. Shes canonically very wealthy because of all the money she is paid by customers to fix Androids, and she’s also one of the few Engineers in the entire city who is trusted enough to work on famous Androids like Robin and IPC members.

I imagine her shop isn’t exactly in the middle of the woods though, but it’s a bit secluded from the city within a heavily guarded laboratory. She is protected by the city itself as she is an extremely valuable asset in the Android manufacturing industry, so if she were to go missing or get killed, it’d be a huge problem for the city.

[schoolhater]

while this ceasefire news is certainly cause for celebration, i do hope that all of us in the west remember that the nightmare is not actually over.

i spoke with my friend siraj @siraj2024 about this and he had this to say:

Despite the announcement of a ceasefire in the Gaza Strip, many residents are still suffering from the devastating repercussions of the war, which has left widespread destruction in homes and infrastructure. Although the truce has contributed to stopping the violent bombing, the reality on the ground still holds great challenges for civilians, as many are still in urgent need of tents as temporary shelter. The destruction of homes as a result of continuous bombing throughout the conflict has left many families in Gaza homeless, and tents are the only solution available to some at the present time. Even with the cessation of fighting, the reconstruction process remains complex and time-consuming, especially in light of the restrictions on construction materials and the deteriorating economic conditions. Therefore, the tent becomes a temporary hope for many families facing harsh conditions.

echoing his point here - it doesn't seem like the blockade, which has only gotten more restrictive since october 2023, will be removed as part of this deal. associated press said last october that under such conditions, it will take gaza 350 years to rebuild itself completely. this isn't even getting into the fact that the iof will definitely escalate attacks in the final days before the ceasefire comes into effect, and almost certainly break the ceasefire afterward.

i don't want us to feel like we have to stop celebrating, but we do have to face the facts. we can carry the hope this news has brought us into action to continue to help the people who need it most. and i hope we can start with siraj. consult this post for my most recent summary of his situation, or read through his blog for more information.

tl;dr is that he had two gofundme campaigns that were unjustly terminated, and he lost around $27,000 USD as a result. he is now fundraising on chuffed. he's a father of three and breadwinner for 23 other people, including 10 children. he's been fundraising for a tent because he lost the means to pay rent for an apartment. tents, along with most supplies, are incredibly expensive due to the blockade. lets start here.

vetted on line 219

donate here

[sunnylovesgirlythings]

“Why is monster high doing so many budget lines???”

Because people can’t afford deluxe line after deluxe line right now when they can barely afford their groceries. And that’s only going to get worse in the next four years.

The toy markets doing a big push towards having more affordable alternatives to big brands right now, to keep itself afloat.

It’s why those potion mini figures have had a very sudden and notable increase in quality.

Going from mostly repeat molds with little more than a palette swap between lines to having complete sets of new original molds with more complex designs in each line and more painted details.

Because they’re small and more affordable so they’re getting more budget pumped into them.

Dolls are mostly bought by parents for their kids. Aka people who have to spend their income on multiple people and therefore have far less money for novelties like dolls.

They’re simply not going to want to routinely spend 25-30 bucks on a single doll. For potentially multiple kids at once. That’s not viable in the slightest.

So that’s where budget lines like day out, monsteristas and especially buried secrets come in.

So people can semi consistently get the budget ones and splash out occasionally on the more expensive ones as treats or for special events!

They don’t seem like they’re prioritising collectors because they’re not.

This is the exact kinda stuff that keeps playline toys alive during times of financial strife.

[3liza]

in the same way that I think the "people shouldn't cheat on coursework with AI because they will be bad at their jobs" argument is invalidated by the "if coursework is possible or necessary to cheat with AI it's not an effective indicator of expertise or teaching methods in the first place" retort, it is also true that "the economy is good actually it doesn't matter that there are more homeless people every year and no one you know can afford to have children or eat at restaurants anymore" argument is nonsense against the assertion that "if your definition of 'the economy' excludes the subjective financial realities of the majority of the country it doesn't actually describe The Economy and you should call what you're talking about something else"

constructing an actually informative model of consumer prices, cost of living, debt and buying power is simultaneously extremely complex in the granular sense (TVs cost less now than in 1990 because TVs are now subsidized by selling consumer data and serving ads, for example) and extremely simple (are you able to pay for a better life now than in 1990). the simple view is something like, are you happier now than you were in 2010. is doing things, in general, easier or harder. can you afford to buy things you need, or are you having to put up with broken things instead of fixing or replacing them. the average guy on the street has his own personal understanding of line go up or down, which is why vibes based polling should be taken extremely seriously in economics discussions.

economics discussions about "the economy" are currently stuck in the same place 20th medicine got stuck in, describing an objective underlying illness that's disconnected from the subjective experience of the patient, even though the patient themselves will tell you, and it should be obvious btw, that whether they have pain or find things harder to do or will die sooner is actually the only thing that matters.

i am absolutely not interested in hearing arguments about why the economy actually rocks now and Gen Z is rich when we have unambiguous numbers about homelessness increasing sharply every single year. you pay for housing and all the things that you need in order to get and keep housing with your own personal access to resources. access to those resources has decreased for almost everyone. therefore the economy, the shared delusion we all have to participate in to survive and operate in extractive capitalism, is bad. any other definition of "the economy" is irrelevant in the context of discussing the national and international Normal Guy.

i simply don't care about anything else. i don't own property. i don't even own any money, I'm just a hole that money passes through on its way to debt and expenses. 71% of Americans are living this way according to Forbes as of 2024.

[sybaritick]

if i was contributing to the Europa ice war memes it would be with 5 paragraphs about the complexity and process of getting all this stuff there and how that is by far the biggest problem. by mass driver maybe, because the expense of building the infrastructure for that would be worth it with the amount of stuff you'd have to transport (instead of current type of rocket launches). and build one on Europa too for the return. and at what speed can that realistically travel? At light speed it's like half an hour but we have no way of achieving that now or anytime soon. At current fastest rocket speeds it's ~90 days to mars and therefore like. A year to Europa? (Europa Clipper, which is en route right now, will take 5 years but there was a direct trajectory option that would have taken less than 3 years, but I'm imagining in this war scenario we are obviously in a big rush).

so the issue here is is "the resources are too far away from the front and it is likely impossible to get them there even within a *month*" and even if there is a lot of development on Europa by this point, even if food and fuel (everything's nuclear-powered in this setting that's my headcanon and i'm right) and missiles etc can somehow be created there, i cannot imagine that the entire global supply chain is replicated there. they are not building entire rockets on Europa because it's simply too difficult-- some of the materials to make the rockets are created on earth. the whole process can't happen from nothing. there are minerals they don't have and infrastructure they don't have. a self-sufficient colony (which i'm assuming is present) is different from one capable of producing all those weapons and aircraft and so on. and people, of course. no reinforcements are coming sooner than a year!

the point is that the self-sufficiency of the Europa colony would be so much more precarious than self-sufficiency on Earth, even if it was built with a lot of redundancy. you need to create food and water and breathable air and then have access to it. if your access to that is cut off somehow you can't create a way to access it again (unlike on Earth where food and water can be obtained from many different places and the air is free.) my first impulse was "the biggest deal on Europa (and on Earth!) must become who has control of the space launch platform! you would inevitably rely a lot on resources from Earth!" but then i realized the travel time is so long it's near-useless. the real biggest deal is running out of stuff. the conflict needs to be over as quickly as possible. you'd have to be SO intentional with it. and you better be really fucking good at predicting what will be needed far ahead of time and then defending it. you can communicate with Earth at light speed (~30-minute delay) but you can't receive anything physical from them without some light-speed technology we don't have yet and i feel we are unlikely to develop anytime soon.

knowing this, i imagine there wouldn't be like, one single electrolysis plant that produces the oxygen because that'd be really vulnerable. there would be a whole lot of them. even though current technology for doing that (decomposing CO2 into oxygen and carbon monoxide) is energy-intensive and expensive and requires rare earth metals.

but now think about how it's not just creating oxygen that would require redundancy, it's every life support process. food, water, ensuring atmospheric pressure, protection from the radiation of space, etc. so something, somewhere, is the bottleneck where there's just a couple targets that could be taken out to prevent continued life on Europa from being possible. of course there is storage but again, how distributed could that be? one storage facility would obviously be disastrous but even 5 is few enough that they could all be destroyed or at least be held by an enemy so you no longer have access to them. so identify which resource is this bottleneck and then defend it like it will be what kills you because it will be. a month ago i wrote some delirious 1am post abt how one of the cool things about a Dyson sphere is denying access to essentially any form of energy to anyone you don't want to have access to it, since basically everything on a planet relies on the light from the star (barring i guess geothermal and nuclear both of which would be impossible to set up without *starting* with something that comes from the light from a star). inescapable death sentence in a way that nothing on Earth really compares to. no one who is not in with you good enough that they are specifically allotted some of the energy produced will live.

tl;dr: Europa is really, really far away and inhospitable, and imo everything about a conflict there would be about that

that's my post you're welcome for utterly missing the point of this meme <3

[whetstonefires]

So the thing with the Matrix for me, right, was I could never get past the assertion that the motivation for keeping humans alive was as a power source.

That pinged as so so stupid, and was presented so late and half-heartedly, that I could not understand it as a sincere part of the premise. Like. We're told very dramatically and pretty early that the world was mostly destroyed by humans 'scourging the skies' to block off all solar radiation in the effort to shut down the solar powered robots, evidently forgetting that all life on Earth is solar-powered also. Too comedically dumb to be really tragic imo.

So to pivot from the premise 'there is no life on earth, other than human beings, because the sun is gone' to 'the humans were kept alive as batteries' is an impossibility for me. Our ludicrous mammalian bodies, incredibly inefficient engines entirely reliant on continuous indirect consumption of solar energy to even survive, were somehow yielding a net output? Not only that, but one superior to nuclear or geothermal???? Bullshit.

I mean. Bull. Shit. I cannot. We just underlined in the backstory how all life on earth relies on the sun! Because life is expensive just to maintain and requires constant external energy input! We get milk from cows by keeping them alive, but that's because they turn the grass energy into something easier for us to process; no such mechanism is proposed for humans consuming dead humans and somehow producing a form of energy more useful to the Machines than just waiting for the corpses to dry out and then burning them to run a goddamn boiler.

This makes the direct opposite of sense.

It had to be in-universe propaganda, right? Another layer of the deception? It couldn't be the real reason. It was too implausible. Which meant I was still waiting to find out why the machines were really bothering with humanity and the Matrix.

I would have accepted without quibble the revelation that humans have special psychic energy that the machines were harvesting; that's dumb but in a comfortable, comprehensible, and above all internally consistent sci-fi kind of way.

I would have been quite open to the idea that the machines relied on human consciousness for their own development to true sapience, and the Matrix was primarily an AI nursery with the enmeshed human brains providing complex inputs, that one's actually cool.

There are a lot of explanations out there aside from the dumb official one, or the Occam's Razor one where they were just keeping some humans alive out of sentimentality! I'm really not that picky!

So anyway I never managed to emotionally engage with the Matrix films well because I had this unresolved 'motives of primary antagonist??? cause of fundamental scenario??????' thing making most of the actual plot twist and drama feel kind of boring.

My sister maintains that this is something wrong with me, that I'm refusing to suspend my disbelief and engage correctly with the text, and this constitutes a hostile, bad-faith and therefore illegitimate reading.

(She hasn't actually said this last part and I'd respect her position more if she did, but this seems to be the broad thrust of her emotional position when she starts shouting.)

I maintain that if a central plank of your sci-fi premise relies on going 'fuck the basic principles of thermodynamics and biology this is a vibes-based system' you should be very careful to avoid invoking the relationship between basic thermodynamics and biology in your core worldbuilding.

[antisextrade]

From Yachting to Dubai Porta Potty: The Overlooked Role of Money Addiction in Prostitution

Can we talk about money addiction in prostitution?

In anti-prostitution circles, it's often discussed how women get into prostitution through trafficking, grooming, drug addiction, debts, desperation, and similar bad circumstances, but rarely about money addiction. It seems that in our capitalist world, money addiction is seldom addressed and is often viewed either positively or downplayed rather than as a serious addiction. Money addiction (greed for money) is often even seen as an personality trait rather than an addiction. Therefore, many people who are addicted to money don't even recognize their own addiction to it or think it's fine.

Money-addicted individuals exhibit behaviors, such as an insatiable desire for more wealth and possessions, often at the expense of others or to the detriment of their own well-being. So it's really not as harmless as people perceive it to be. Money addiction often stems from a deep-rooted need to compensate for feelings of inadequacy, insecurity, or emotional pain. However, overvaluing money and becoming addicted to it can also be a result of societal conditioning and affirmation from parents and society.

Research shows that most prostituted women don't want to be in the sex trade, and only a small number of women want to be in it. I want to talk about this very small group of women who claim they want to be in it. From what I've noticed, some of those women seem to participate in the sex trade because they are addicted to money and they are often times expensive escorts. These escorts are usually the ones who are advocating for prostitution on various podcasts & Co.

Many already very rich and famous celebrities, as well as popular influencers with a (very) good income, also participate in yachting (escorting on a yacht) or Dubai Porta Potty (traveling to Dubai to get pooped and peed on by wealthy Arab men for large sums of money, it often involves bestiality as well). At this point, it's not even a secret. Yachting, in particular, is constantly talked about. There have been many podcasts and posts all over the internet about rich celebrities and influencers doing it. In fact, it has helped normalize and accept prostitution, and even glamorize it. It has taken away the focus on how prostitution looks for the majority of women and how most women aren't in it because they want to be.

(Trigger Warning - Disgusting Sexual Content:) Let's face it, would you really be willing to have gang bangs for several days to a week with a bunch of (probably) ugly, old guys who don't respect you, want to beat the shit out of you, humiliate you, piss on you, poop in your mouth, and make you have sex with an actual animal (bestiality) in a country where it is illegale (risk of being imprisoned) for €30,000 if you were already financially stable? Would you do the same if you were offered one million euros if you were already a famous celebrity worth €100M? I doubt it, unless you are addicted to money. However, this is what is being offered (30k - 1M) in Dubai Porta Potty for all of those things combined to people who most of the time already have money (influencers and celebrities).

Sure, one could argue that porn has desensitized or even groomed many people to like some of those practices, and the "no kink shaming" crowd has helped normalize it, but still, those are not everyday normal practices, especially bestiality, which is illegal in many countries, including the United Arab Emirates. Even someone who doesn't mind BDSM wouldn't just do all of it with strangers in another country, where it is illegal and they are not really in dire need of money if there isn't an underlying issue (like a money addiction) behind it.

I think this aspect of money addiction is crucial to understand when discussing the complexities of prostitution. The conversation often neglects the psychological and societal factors that drive some women to enter and stay in the sex trade willingly. It's also important to challenge the societal norms that glorify wealth accumulation at any cost. Money addiction really needs to be talked about more often and be taken more seriously.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Okay but imagine mimzy joining the hotel as a resident.

Not because she believes in redemption, but a complex interplay between, needing to hide out from a high tier person she pissed off, knowing Al is too annoyed with her to just handle it like ususal after last time, and knowing that goody two-shoes Princess Charlie won't throw her out... so therefore Al won't either.

Husk would be furious, and one can only imagine how Al would feel.

I don't think he owns her soul, but we don't have a lot of information on that front. So he can't order her to leave... but if he did, and Charlie found out, it would jeopardise his standing at the hotel. Which had been shaky since the rebuilding, what with his injury limiting his already curtailed powers.

Charlie tries to be So Kind and Helpful and engage Mimzy in redemption activities. And maybe she does one, but Mimzy has Loud OpinionsTM the whole time which is fine. Charlie is counting to ten in her head. Because we don't yell at guests! :)

Vaggie had gone to Alastor after day two to tell him to covertly get her out of the hotel.

He replies, actually looking somewhat chagrined behind that smile, that he would if he could. But they both know Charlotte would be upset and work out why she'd gone... even if she was infuriating.

Angel was originally loving it. Mimzy does NOT know when to shut the fuck up about secrets she knows. And normally he likes that kind of person, it used to help him keep tabs on all sorts of people for Val before he was reduced to just an expensive hole on screen... and boy, wasn't that a depressing line of thought!

But after a bit, you get the feeling that harmless fun stories start to tip into deeply personal shit no one (especially not current or former overlords who had a lot of enemies that might take advantage of drunken story time to find a good place to stab the men in the back) deserved to have shared without their consent.

He knew more about Husk, and Alastor, and even that Rosie lady, than he could ever have dreamed... and it frightened him. Val could theoretically ask the right questions at the studio... and then everything would be forced out.

Angel had noted the tension in his hunky bartender and cervine hotelier recently, this broad was like a haemorrhaging wound full of secrets. She didn't care that her actions hurt people, or put targets on the backs of people she considered friends... the most dangerous kind of person. It was all justified in her head, because it turned out okay (for her) in the end.

He and Cherri had known a few, but none had her level of skill. So Angel knew how to handle a bird like her, just get her a bit tipsy and head her off to a more secluded table so her stories were just for him and sometimes Niffty. Not the other residents. At least two of which he assumed were under Vox... specially the slimy guy.

Sure, it's fun to know about the first time Mimzy met Alastor and how they'd dismembered a guy for aggressively flirting with both of them. Angel can admit he's still human enough somewhere in this body to lose it laughing each time Mimzy recalled how it'd taken Al three days to work out he had also been a target of affections. He'd thought the man was just naturally vulgar and handsy...

Because yeah, that tracked.

And perhaps the overlord wouldn't kill him for knowing that, 'cause at least it seemed Husk and Al were aware of his efforts to manage Mimzy and her MouthTM. Keep her from the others and do damage control when he wasn't at the studio. And sure, she also had interesting stories of her days as a sex worker, and an owner of her own brothel-slash dance club... turns out she had something similar down here, and no one disrespected her staff.

Watching something shorter than Lucifer manifest a bazooka from between those bazongas, especially a weapon longer than she was tall, had been quite An Experience. She thought his ability to manifest extra tommy-gun wielding arms was just as neat, so there was some genuine bonding there, to a degree.

But it was the other stuff, like... like how he now had to live with the knowledge that Husk had been so depressed he'd drunk himself into a stupour for the last years of his life. Or that Alastor had been so little when his mother was murdered, and then his father went 'missing' in a way that made Mimzy grin darkly and lick her teeth. No doubting where she got the cannibal sheen from.

Or that Husk's power had been torn down through outside influences, and left him... this. Or that Mimzy had managed to get both the men to play dress up for her dancers on at least one drunken occasion. And like, yeah, filing that away for later, but also it was the sorta thing a friend holds onto for their own memories.

He knew Husk purred when he was happy, and Alastor had a tail he hid because it was too cute for his image. Mimzy didn't skimp on details about when she'd spent time with the pair of them... or when they'd all done gods know what in a bloodsoaked cabin in a bayou somewhere when bloodlust overcame normal barriers and curiosity reigned. It was sorta hard to imagine... but Angel couldn't help but worry about how he'd feel if Cherri was out there spouting off about them experimenting to just anyone.

Like, Angel could do ladies, for the screen and double-pay when Val was pushing for more money. Had to learn that somewhere, right? Cherri was damn good at it, and she had no expectations, just laughed and made it easy for 'em both. Angel was good with body language and all, could usually work out what made people tick and that's why he was Good at what he did. But having a verbal guide, and someone who wouldn't judge if you mucked up, helped no end.

Val had at least been pleased when the films came out and got enough notoriety with a new demographic Angel hadn't been able to touch yet (heh). Not enough to keep forcing him to do that ongoing, but enough that if they wanted a curveball he'd be the pizza delivery guy getitng an enthusiastic tip from a hot straight couple on occasion to bounce the ratings.

Not to mention, some of his coworkers didn't fall under the female category, but had different requirements to usual, and now he knew how to make that work real well. So it'd worked out okay in the end. Those films were far more fun to make as well, now he didn't feel like he was fumbling. But the point was... that was his and Cherri's business.

And, Angel did feel like some of what Mimzy said shouldn't be aired. He got the whole... 'ace of some kind', vibe from Al, and Mimzy often liked to joke about teaching him things. That's not cool to go sharing around... Everyone starts from 0, you know?

Some people stay there their whole existences, and that was fine with Angel too. Same way he wasn't much for rockclimbing, and someone out there would rather die than go a day without it... to each their own. Good for them.

S'why he often diverted guests who were flirting with the overlord, the few brave enough that is, before the deer worked out what they were doing and ate them in the least sexy way possible. Although, based on that last scented-candle-dolphin looking sinner, Angel would bet twenty bucks they were into that shit and were hoping to provoke some kinda vore experience...

Either way, Mimzy was a wild fuckin' ride of a woman. She often switched between tales of insane hijinks (hiding bodies, stealing cars, fucking with the racist cops and causing general mayhem) to hard topics from life like struggling to make rent, her dancers coming home bruised and sobbing, the way their clients were mysteriously found devoured by alligators who often came when called by name but the pigs don't need t'know that you got me?

That Alastor had at least two pet alligators as a child who helped immensely with clean up and their names were hard to pronounce but the fuckers didn't like Mimzy much unless she approached meat-first. That line made Angel choke on his drink and she'd rolled her liquid black eyes fondly. Stating that she's still not sure why they hated her on sight but she bit one once when it smacked her with its tail... so perhaps that had something to do with it.

Before jerking the conversation to increasingly-wild tales of her nights dancing with first Al and then Husk in speakeasies when life was easy. Dropping into maudlin territory when she mentioned the confusion of her boys being sent off for the damned war so young and then coming back slightly different. Still fucked up like all of 'em... but changed. They told her some, but not everything, and suppressed whatever stressed them out at night with alcohol and chaos.

Growing nostalgic at her memories of Al's ma, and how she would be so kind to even weird white girls who pestered her son endlessly, despite the social stigma of the time. Mentioning that Ma used to make the nicest food, and always had something available at all time of day for the hungry child or jumpscare of a husband, who could arrive at any time. Mimzy actually whispered that she stopped eating there after a bit, unless she brought something to share, when she realised that they didn't have much and were including her n their planned meals.

Small ttowns, small incomes. And anyone who dared to be less than exemplary members of town, much less non-white, tended to get less than the minimum wage... because who was going to force the hands of employers to be fair? Who cared? Nobody, really.

Angel was particularly enthralled by the tales of frenetic murder. The way Mimzy spoke about helping Al hide the hacked apart body of his father, as the named allgators fought over the severed slop like he'd dumped an ocean of treats out for them.

Mentioning the way she learned to reset bones and bind wounds so well, 'cause of the brute... the time he'd even swung at her because as a white man, he felt he could even discipline another person's child. It wasn't unacceptable in those days, of course but...

Then dancing off into a tale of when she was fucking two guys in their crappy creaking car to distract from the fact Husk was rifling through their office files for dirt to leak to the local newspapers about the corrupt politician they served. As Al arranged for at least one of the men to end up in the freezer after she was done; they cost of meat was high, these days, and he'd roughed up Birdie one of the smaller dancers. He'd tried to do worse but Husk'd ejected the man out a window. Mimzy had gone to him and his pal under the guise of 'making amends' as if they'd been in the wrong. hah, the fools.

Least the pal was good with his tongue... she'd waggled her eyebrows at Angel, and threw a pointed wink at Husk who ignored her like his life depended on it. It was then Mimzy dropped the bombshell that while she'd suggested the plan of course, Husk or Al could've managed either role if they'd needed to. (And that little statement made Angel's brain buffer for a good few minutes, and the world went fuzzy as he waited for blood to return to the brain).

On some evenings, she fell into conversation about the mundanity of causing social chaos by shopping together or being seen hanging out with one another in bars, on what looks like dates, to pushing boundaries at the local parks and 'desecrating' whites only fountains... and then the full-blown argument the trio had had after spending ten minutes unsuccessfully trying to fold a fitted sheet whilst half-blitzed on ether. None of them had realised that the bottle had fallen on the floor and was pooling in the small room, until later on. It had made things interesting at least.

They'd stored that little item more securely in future.

To her memories of the prim way that Al learned to talk in french-creole from his Ma, and the loss (read 5 stages of grief) they experienced when he dropped his natural accent for the radio. That damned world english he needed to affect to be considered a faceless white radio host... because if someone found out the truth, then they would've gone a'lynching.

The stark sides of the times, black and white, and anyone or anything in the middle was somehow both more human than one side and less than the other. And how she was considered tainted for impinging on her own 'pure' heritage for being seen with first a half-breed and then a black man. The scandal of it still tickled her.

"Oh, sure," Mimzy would joke aloud flapping a hand nonchalantly. "It was the fact I had non-white 'friends' that soiled me... not the fact I was a hooker and a floozy, not the brothel or the dance clubs, not the occasional girlfriend I ruined for anyone afterwards cause I can lick the paint off a trailer hitch... not the fact I publically showed my claim on those boys so deeply anyone would be terrified to try flirting with 'em. And that's just the stuff people saw!"

She'd laugh, raucously and slurred from drink, hinting at the murder, mayhem and debauchery happening in the shadows of their day to day. How they would lure in a target with Mimzy or one of her dancers, or even Husk or Al depending on the preference, and get them alone... before taking them somewhere secluded.

Depending on the nature of their crimes, sometimes the targets would be left to wander lost until they died of exposure, othertimes they'd be mercilessly hunted through the bayou by primarily Al and sometimes the other two. Sometimes they'd be alive for days in the hidden shack. Sometimes... rarely, someone who deserved a pound of flesh would be brought with them for a quiet vengeance.

An intriguingly terribly kept secret, all the dancers knew, and they kept quiet. Mimzy sometimes murmured that she wasn't sure if Al would have even hurt them if they told... they were a small community, after all. And he, and husk and mimzy kept 'em as safe as they could for the time, the place and the nature of the work.

Angel finds himself wishing that he'd had that level of chaotic care in his life, because he might've not died to a random overdose on a grungy club's bathroom floor. Stomach and guts filled with the loads of faceless people who only saw him as a pretty face and a warm hole, not caring as he twitched his last. What if he'd been with people who would have seen him as Anthony? Who would've at least tried to get him help or held him softly when he died? Fuck, the morose thoughts that shit conjured were devastating.

He'd been a toy in life, and now in death Valentino had the rights to him. Husk'd torn down his persona so devastatingly and made him feel Seen in a terrifying way... and Al had turned down his sexual favours that first day (and ever since though those aren't really serious)... there was something about them that made him feel weirdly safe.

They would kill him sure,if he pushed them or betrayed them or put everyone in danger, but he never got the vibe that either male sinner would hurt him like Val. And THAT train of thought always fucked with his head severely... because these were/are Overlords. Worst of the crop and all.

But in another life, he could've had the security of one of Mimzy's dancers. Left him feeling all kinds'a ways.

The way she talked about it was nostalgic and fun. If insane. Couldn't have been weirder than being a closeted mafioso in the Familia, back in the day.

Alastor was the ultimate serial killer, finishing off victims and dissecting them as he would. But Mimzy recalled the joys of getting her hand in there and Husk always seemed to have a proud gleam in his eye as they spoke about this sort of stuff.

Angel admitted that he'd been more than a little fascinated, and maybe not all that altruistic when it came to listening in to Mimz and her chatter on occasion.

He knew Vaggie sometimes listened in, but grew disgusted quickly, and Charlie had eavesdropped on more than one occasion before getting overwhelmed - disgust, sorrow, the sudden realisation that none of her sinners had a singlular event of Bad Choices in life but more like a collective nightmare of trauma, pain, social pressure and decisions that brought them to Hell. That perhaps she wasn't so prepared to manage that with group hug therapy and Daily Affirmations as she thought.

Eh, she's got some backing from the medical sin, Sloth was it? Maybe they could get an actual psych up in here or something. Either way.

The real issue was stopping Lucifer from listening in to too much. That'd be like handing a molotov to an angry teen, because he and Al still hadn't really gotten over day one's big bitchfit of the musical variety. Funny as hell, but the sniping was getting more personal from Lucifer's end with just the right level of pain to actually hurt the deer.

Was the king a bit of a hot mess with mental health issues out the wazoo? Sure. Maybe he needed to hear that in a kinder way though. Not reminded of his not-great parenting by a smart-mouthed red twink with a god complex who seemed to be prodding for reasons Angel couldn't quite discern.

But Lucifer had started sniping back using some truly devastating tidbits from Mimzy's stories, and publically too. Which had been the main reason that the side wall had been replaced a total of eighteen times this month alone (not counting one incident of Cherri Bomb drunkenly panicking that the front door had been removed and they were trapped in the hotel, but she'd been fully zooted on some new stuff at the time and, well, her goal had been to save them, so...)

Angel had mentioned to Charlie that Luficer was being a bit of a dick, and gave examples that sincerely distressed her to hear, and she'd stepped in. The barbs had at least pulled back to general tanting, which saved the hotel and staff's sanity to some degree.

One just didn't live long if they made Yo Mamma jokes at the Radio Demon. Just putting it out there for future reference.

There was some truly dark shit in these stories, too. The times that Al, husk and Mimzy had been too late to get to one of the dancers... and all they could do was ensure the perpetrator was annhilated. The police had little care for some dead whore... much less the ones that might've gone spreading tales about the corrupt officer's own extra-marital affairs with them. Good riddance and all.

Sometimes the dancer had been working off-the-books, but often they thought they'd found The One for them, and it was just a cruel little lie boxed up in pretty wrapping paper. Either they wanted another worker for themselves, or someone who'd be grateful enough for the 'rescue' to capitulate to any depraved want from their 'saviour', whatever, whenever and wherever. Angel could sure fuckin' sympathise on that one.

There were times a target nearly got too far with Mimzy, hells even Al and Husk had had to play defense on a few occasions, when the others didn't arrive fast enough and someone decided Wait meant Make Me. Those... those felt too close to home too.

Husk refused to meet his eyes at those times; at first Angel thought it was outta shame, but after a coded not-talking-about-it conversation, it was more like... that Husk felt bad that he'd at lest known help was coming. But Angel never had that option with his fucking contract.

He tried to reassure Angel that there would be a way, but always fell silent.

There were takes of broken bones, black eyes, stab wounds and hooking bullets out by candlelight as the others pinned them down. It was... chaotic. Angel could feel himself there in those tales, he'd had similar experiences. The way your hands trembled as they pulled stitches through the flesh of someone you knew and cared for; hurrting them to help as they choked back a scream from the pressure.

Sitting beside someone in a strangling darkness, afraid that their stillness was more than just being knocked out; roving their chest with your eyes to check for breath, and sometimes reassuring yourself by searching for a pulse. It was... familiar. Or when it was your turn and you begged them to stop even just to say it, as someone pulled the blade out from you, hands roughly holding you down as they used burning antiseptic to try and keep you alive...

Those were the memories that fell deep into your brain and hopefully stayed there unless triggered. Memories of pain fade, of course, but sometimes things brought that mess back up. Like Mimzy's words. Husk hadn't needed to ask, just poured him a drink that he kept outta Vaggie's line of sight as he served it to Angel. They didn't make eye contact.

She'd flipped the conversation back to soemthing light-hearted, like the day a circus had come through their middle of nowhere hometown and that'd been a hoot. First time they'd seen any animals like elephants or tigers outside of posters or books, the few that had photos at least. Nearest zoo was in the larger city hours away... and who had the cash for that?

Mimzy spoke about the thngs they'd wanted to do, too. If there'd been time. Like seeing the beach... it'd always sounded so exciting in the books, and even a few of the films that had come out they could afford to see. The bayou was great and all, but... endless salty water and sunshine? It sounded like something from a fantasy.

They were going to go one day. That'd been the plan. When things were more stable... she'd drifted out of that one quietly, then flipped to an innuendo so crude Charlie (who was NOT eavesdropping) bit her fork too hard and had to spit the severed metal out.

There was a tale or two Mimzy came at a few times, but never quite finished. The first one was seemingly about finding out Al had died, and what'd happened... that was the first time Angel thought he saw the real Magnolia behind the Mimzy, the way her hands shook and that glass-sharp voice quivered... not describing exactly what she'd seen, like the words caught in her throat. But... enough to say it hadn't been clean.

The regret sat in her throat. Heavy and choking.

They'd buried what they could find, but... well. There wasn't much.

Husk and her, they'd fallen apart, then. Without the buffer of both being ticked off at Al, and equally endeared by his insane personality, they just clashed. The third voice that would redirect and frustrate and cajole and endear was gone...

Husk drifted away and found some woman in a few towns over. She thought they were happy or so Mimzy assumed 'cause there was 'at least a sprog or maybe two' as she put it. But that didn't last. And then he was dead too. She'd been talking herself into going to go drag his miserable drunken ass out of his house for months now and finally got around to mustering the nerve... only to find him Gone. That'd been a nightmare unto itself, she'd been furious with the fool for not daring to wait til tomorrow when she'd at least have closure.

And then... life continued.

The police started to come down harder on her dance studio, her brothel as people started to rile up about anti-segregation and doubled down on that bullshit all american way - the white way of living and all that bullhockey. She'd ended up alone, in the end... half her dancers jailed for indecency or other don't-tell-my-wife-or-ill-kill-you type charges, some took up with clients and their false honeyed words, and she couldn't do a thing to save them...

All those lives. The dancers, their kids, the whole system died... because the world wasn't ready for something like them. Not now. Not yet. And it turned everything sour... until the day she died. Too young for some; but much too long from her perspective, after everything.

All that was left was having chaotic fun until the ride stopped. Stealing cars, robbing the rich blind, fucking with people left and right, to feel something and to sow chaos in her wake.

They'd never forget Mimzy. And when someone recalled her, they'd never forget Al or Husk or her dancers, that was tied into the legacy after all...

At least they overturned prohibition before they ventilated her for pissing off some mobster family. She'd laugh about that, then skirt away to a funnier story or topic.

She was like a gobstopper, with things buried underneath that hard shell. Maybe one of those scary ones from Gluttony that started to reform from the core out if you left it alone for a few hours - stomach acid neutralised this, thankfully, cause Angel didn't mind using Beads on occasion but that sounded like laying an egg and he... wasn't usually up for oviposition films. They had other sinner stars for that.

Mimzy would swing into a non-sequiter so fast it felt like whiplash. Stories about her boys getting so plastered that she had to carry and/or drag them back to the backrooms of their club, and how the pair were nightmares when hungover. In different ways.

Alastor apparently decided that if he was suffering, then everyone should be, so he was always excruciatingly cheerful and loud and bright and Husk'd threatened to shoot him more than once. To which Alastor would jokingly tap his forehead and say 'I think a ventilation hole might let the demons in here out, so go ahead!' which... hadn't been funny no more, looking back on it, given how he died.

And Husk'd be this lump of misery that had to be dragged to the kitchen for greasy food to try and return himself to himself. Mimzy usually just felt furious at every miniscule sound until the headache died down with another glass of something strong.

And the stories of how life just kinda sucked back then. Pooling cash to work out groceries because between everyone, they could afford to feed them all til the next week's paychecks came through, but the dancers' wages came first, then rent and studio upkeep and attire. Drink prices could be negotiated for the right entertainment at the local speakeasy, you play an instrument and sing for a few hours, you can drink on the house to certain exceptions and all.

Then there was the... the not-talked about part. The racism, the bigotry, the intolerance of anything that wasn't white guy and white gal popping out babies (but even the idea of pregnancy was taboo for some weird ass reason and those poor birds back then ended up wearing big boxy dresses to pretend it weren't happening). Mimzy was always chuffed about the irony of the world they lived in back then.

Not to mention the whole cornflakes business, she nearly fell off her chair recalling that one. Husk'd snorted, and Angel had had a brief moment of heart-eyed haze over that...

"The what?" he'd eventually asked, slightly confused.

"Oh ya so precious, not knowin' but back in the day people got real fuckin' weird about fuckin', right? Don't need to tell you that, do I? But then you was a city boy, it was worse in the smaller places where people were so high strung it was a wonder not many went mad. But anyways, the whole sex for marriage thing was out there, and there was also the silly stipulation that even then having a good time or even a weird but okay fumble with your mr or mrs should be done only for making kids right? The priests championing that bullshit often ended up being secretly guilty of affairs or kid fiddlin' so we know why they got so heated about it." Mimzy explained, her words like an oncoming locomotive that couldn't be dodged now he'd switched the tracks.

"So's you see... even married you were supposed to control yaself. The time for fourteen kid families was over cause people weren't dying as babies and all no more, and even the post war population efforts were petering out... so they came up with the idea that bland foods equals bland thoughts. And somehow a guy made a cereal out of called cornflakes, and it became this big thing, you see, to be seen eating it. You young'uns call it virtue signalling." she snorts. "It was kind of like saying 'I could fuck but I ain't gonna 'cause I can control myself' and expecting applause. You know, I used to offer it to my dancers 'cause it was a quick meal you could buy cheap enough, and was pretty good with some milk and sugar or fruits. They loved the irony of it."

"Okay, yeah, that's funny... people were weird as shit back then. Did you know Pentious told me the Victorians, back when his ancient ass was alive, were super into sex and prudishness all at once? Was a real thing to get ya nipples pierced in those times... and seeing an ankle could give a man a life-threatening hard-on." Angel offers back, thinking fondly on the odd rants the inventor had gone on when they'd been drunk together... before the battle. Missed the snake nowadays. And not just 'cause he and Cherri had taken the guy's twin dongs for a test ride and wanted another ticket, neither.

"Right? Humans are humans all the way through. The more they push back on a topic, and make a fuss, the more I can see right through 'em. Cept the... whatchacall'ems, aces... and the archery ones... had a few dancers like that come through. Just legit didn't have interest, but didn't mind the activities involved... had some aros who were natural seductive types and could spin a romantic fantasy like you wouldn't believe. Or maybe you would, I've seen ya work, Angel. Always got top dollar for the illusion of intimacy. The rest of us, though, we're just animals that learned how to make taxes a thing and nothing got better from there." she shrugs.

Husk uncharacteristically had another tray of drinks delivered to them by Niffty. Which sparked a story about her meeting Niffty in life. It'd been brief, that first time, she was only very young... but her father had clearly been a piece of work.

Her mother didn't seem the kind of woman who'd been in the USA of her entire own volition, or perhaps the isolation of being the only person of asian descent in a world of scornful white faces was the issue, but she seemed nervous constantly. They'd seen the family come into town that first time., and the gossips were all abuzz about how such a wonderful man could choose someone... like that.

You couldn't not notice. Mimzy had been all for befriending the woman, making a point to pretend that Husk was her husband, so she understood it could be hard to be seen as just another interracial couple in these times. Her quick eyes noting the make-up too thick in some places and not enough in others. Asking questions without asking directly what was happening exactly.

Meeting the funny little girl who stayed quiet and removed the heads from her dolls as she played silently in the corner. Watching them with wide, fearful eyes as if she expected pain from every man in her vicinity. The marks of make-up present here and there, to make sure the teachers wouldn't ask questions.

You had to know to look, after all. And most people would turn away to avoid the truth of it in any case, who wants to know what happens over the picket fence? It was a family problem, we shouldn't pry!

[Those who got too loud, too nosy, tended to get lobotomised after all. Just about anything could be solved with a little brain damage!]

Keeping to yourself was all the rage!

Well, unless you're two nosy fuckers and their reluctant tag-along. They'd met little Niffty, and couldn't help but decide to intervene.

Unfortunately due to oversight little Niffty'd been huddled in a corner when they came for her father the night her mother went screaming into the street for help. Neighbours twitched their curtains closed even as the distraught woman ran past, a knife in her forearm where she'd blocked the blow that should have killed her.

Lucky thing that the trio had been heading out for 'work related puposes', huh? Lucky they were nearby to help and squirreling her with one of the sympathetic families nearby as an ambulance was called. They'd headed back to the house to deal with the culprit.

He'd died slow, in the household he'd ruled with an iron fist... but there'd been a moment of Ah, Bugger when it was discovered that the whole scenario had been seen. The police took hours to arrive, thankfully... and they only really took notice when it was discovered that the husband had mysteriously fled. 'Work stress' and 'family issues' were on the official report.

Little Niffty had been taken out of the home and brought to her mother by then. The police arriving to a home empty of life, and covered in blood. Thankfully, racism and misogyny worked for them this once... the police naturally assuming the small quiet woman couldn't have hurt her husband without a man's help. But all neighbours said she was a recluse with no friends...

Niffty never said anything, not to anyone but her dolls... and the police couldn't make sense of the statements she giggled at them. Putting it down to foreign nonsense and female hysteria and grief at the loss of her Daddy. Thankfully.

That shouldn't have worked. But it did.

Kept an eye on the kid for the next bit, or at least they sure tried. But life got in the way, then Niffty and her mum moved them to a city where things were safer. Where there were other people from their culture there, had established parts of the city even, so they had some sort of allies in this strange country.

Mimzy'd found it strange to see their little Niffty in Hell but then, when Mimzy heard what'd happened... ain't no surprise. Al had found her first, of course, she had begged him to look after her soul and he couldn't refuse.

Seems some asshole of a husband'd tried raising a hand to Niffty one too many times, and something had snapped in the lovely doll. Something about demanding clean home, clean life nonsense one too many times, and then she'd murdered him so violently it took three rounds from police to take her down.

In retrospect, Mimzy laughed, they might've given her the idea on how to dispose of unwanted baggage, unfortunately. Still, turns iut Niffty made the fucker drink bleach as he died, so perhaps if he was down in the Pit and Al hadn't found the miserable wretch yet,Niff's former husband had the sense to stay away. They'd get him eventually though.

Angel had had to leave for a shift, but that left his head reeling, finally putting together some pieces on why Niffty was like that.

Sure his body was doing all the right things during the taping of 'Hoes in the Garden: Fertilise my Crops' the newest farm-themed, dirt-inclusive film line for the Wrathian market... but his mind was busy putting things on a mental corkboard and using lots of red string.

Val had even been in a good mood for some reason, complimenting Angel on his performance, and suggesting he take the rest of the night off to rest his voice for tomorrow. Something about a cowboy themed shoot based on some imp festival where most of the competitors ended up pummelled. His role was to play the glorious prize and get railed over the largest fake pumpkin-o-lantern Angel thinks he's ever seen in his afterlife. Those sinners in the set design team needed a raise... or therapy. Maybe both.

Either way, he's a tad too tired to clock the unusual affection from Val. It hadn't even been a bad day at work, either. Just, a lot of takes from different angles, and by the time he'd done his fourth theatrical climax, a 7/10 for anyone wondering, Angel was ready for a nap.

It was later that he recognised something was up. Bit late then, though.

Back at the hotel after a shower and a 'five minute nap' that'd taken about three hours and left him muzzy, Angel had come down to find Charlie wringing her hands. Part of the lobby is SINGED, and he's pretty sure that wasn't like that when he got home... but he also didn't hear any alarms go off. So, this was a bit of a mindfuck either way.

"Look toots, it was an accident. Promise I won't try that again... just got curious, alright?" Mimzy is placating, but not apologising. It has the tone and cadence of an apology, but not the intent. Husk is glaring across the room, his wing the only thing holding Vaggie back from launching at the short sinner.

Lucifer is examining the damage to the ceiling with his wings out, and damn, Angel can't help but think about how fuckin' hot their King is when he's all... angelic. Like the opposite of Smiles, sorta... no idea how to categorise it, but they're like the opposite ends of the spectrum unless Lucifer goes all Devil.

So he'd taken to ranking hotness in the hotel on a bored day... try and sue him. Angel'd kill anyone who tried to foreclose on Fat Nuggets.

"Well, sire, is this something you can magic away with a snap or are we going to need to put effort into reinforcing the structure?" Alastor calls up to the King, manifesting without undue surprise at the chaos. "You might want to hurry on your proclamation, Niffty is near vibrating out of her skin with desire to clean the mess... and I need to know what we're telling her."

Indeed, the maid is a red and white blur in one of his hands, held just away from the body, and the impression of a darting eye is somewhere in the disturbing illusion.

"Oh, it's the layabout, come to actually get your hands dirty or just summon thralls for it?" Lucifer comments dryly, doing an unnecessary backflip to hand upside down right in Alastor's face. The sinner looks like he's debating biting it clean off.

"Hilarious, if only you put as much effort into your scathing wit as you do your daughter. Now the question remains am I releaseing Niffty or is this something you need to fix? Are any of the above floors compormised by the damage?"

The King pauses, and looks up again. "...no, they're fine, it's all superficial damage that canbe handled easy enough. I can just snap it back to how it was, you know, Niff...ty?"

The name isn't that hard to remember, but the king is clearly proud all the same. She pauses. "No, I want to, mr big bad boy!"

"Poetry." Alastor hums, and releases Niffty along with a handful of small dolls from his shadows. They take up cleaning under Niffty's directions. "We should leave them to it."

His head does a full one-eighty before his body follows, aiming right at Mimzy. Angel winces, shoulders tensing at the crunch. He's never gonna get used to that...

"Now, Magnolia, you are going to explain what you thought you were doing and why you shouldn't be thrown out of this hotel. Actually apologising for the damages you wrought would be the best place to start." He prompts, as his power surges green around them and little runes flicker into the air. Mimzy appears like she might have recognised she fucked up. Just a bit.

"Al, baby, you and Husky know sometimes I just get clumsy... it was an accident." she placates, waving it off but taking a step closer to Charlotte.

"Then apologise to Charlotte, and try to mean it. We both know you're only here because whoever you have bothered to the point of needing protection is unlikely to try and extract you from under the Princess's care. The least you could do is not destroy the place within the first few months of operation..."

She heaves a dramatic sigh, "Fine. Princess toots, I'm sorry I set a few things on fire and broke that statue, I didn't mean to. Your weird candle making positivity lecture thing wasn't ear-bleeding or excruciating to be part of either!"

"That's... okay, Mimzy. After all, we can fix this. But... I feel like maybe we might try a one on one talk therapy option to find out why you feel the need to cause chaos and ruin everything good in your life, but we can talk about that later. Okay?"

Mimzy looks about three seconds from slapping Charlie right across the face. "There ain't nothing wrong with me, you spoiled, priviledged little goody two-shoes. We didn't all come from some fuckin' ivory tower where everything was handed out to us, and that gave us weird quirks. So back right off with that condescending bullshit."

Vaggie is interjecting spear-first when it's yanked from her hands by an inky black tendril. "Vagatha, not every situation calls for the nuclear option. Or are you desperate to return to the days of killing off sinners for merely existing in a way you dislike?" Alastor snarls. Something about the situation has pivoted the Radio Demon's opinion in a heartbeat. Maybe it was the angelic steel pointed at someone who may somehow care for.

Strangely, Husk moves behind Mimzy and puts a paw on her shoulder. "Drop it Mim, she's not... ready to see things that way. And you do cause absolute fuckin' chaos wherever you go. No two ways about it. But... if things're that bad out there you need to be here, you need to learn to work inside the rules."

"Oh fuck you, Husk! Because we were always sooooo good at doing what society thought we should... huh? You two abandoned me, after everything we went through, so you owe me some goddamn backup when im dealing with princess privileged over there!"

"And how many more decades were you intending to keep rehashing that line? We've dragged you out of insane situations hundreds of time individually and together, Mimz, and you just seem to find another one. Sounds self-destructive to me... trust me, I'd know." said the alcoholic, shrugging. "Your afterlife though. But you don't get to disrespect Charlie like that and get away with it."

She pouts, deeply, and rolls her eyes. "Okay, fine. Look, Im here for my own reasons but it... ain't as bad as I said, Princess. I'm sure we can... find something to chat about, gal-to-gal, in your little therapy sessions. But you need to tone it down... no wonder people ain't flocking here, you're too..." she waves a hand at the radiating positivity and uncertainty. "That."

"What I believe you are trying to say, is that you have concerns about the qualifications of our dear Charlotte to provide psychotherapy, given her perspective on life is very... limited compared to that of sinners. And that she could not possibly understand the complexities of what being taken for mental health support in our time meant... or who would be targeted. Correct?" Alastor says, looming over her and ignoring Vaggie tugging her spear back from his tentacle.

Charlie frowns. "What does that mean? What was it like? The pamphlets I have show rehabilitation facilities and psychologists..."

That startles a laugh out of Angel. "Oh, Char-Char... even in my time... which was after those guys... it was bad. You either got drugged up until you couldn't feel a fucking thing or have a thought society didn't wantcha to have, or they shocked your brain until you were all blank potato inside. Oooh, there was also the chance they'd lobotomise you, get in there with what was like a big piece of metal andd just scoop out ya brain... or maybe you've be used for a psychotropic drug trial, so they can see what happens. Or they could just lock ya up or keep you in one'a them insulin comas until you died. It was fucked up... you're lucky these guys're even willing to hear you out about therapy 'cause we'd all have been targets for involuntary treatment in the day."

Charlie's mouth is hanging open. "That's horrible! Why would anyone do that? Doctors are supposed to help people!"

"They thought they were, Charlie. But this was also the time when there was one Normal set of people and the rest of the world was Wrong. So, when you see something as Less then... anything is fair game. You know they didn't use anaesthesia on animals or babies until the 80s right? Didn't think they could feel pain right." Husk grumbled, only pulling back when he saw Charlie was about to start sobbing.

"ENOUGH!" Lucifer boomed, pulling everything to a close and shoving the sinners out of the way in all directions with his wings as he went to comfort Charlie. "Honey, it's okay, it's okay there may have been some things that happened in human history that weren't great... but none of that is happening now! You're doing great with the sinners!"

"B-but they DID happen... and th-the-the sinners I'm trying to h-h-h-hell-help lived through it! No wonder we c-can't get mooooooore!" she sibs, and Vaggie is there, stroking Charlie's hair and making soothing noises.

Angel is hauling Husk to his feet, and turning to help pull Mimzy off off of Alastor, eyes warily watching the volatile Devil in the periphery. Sure, the Devil form was hot as well... but there was little rationality in there when Charlie was upset or in any way at risk of harm, even if only the emotional kind.

"No wonder she's sheltered, if that's how his high'n'mighty reacts to her gettin' a reality check. You're lucky I'm here, boys, I think there's some things a gal needs to share with your little redemptionist over there." Mimzy frowns, resettling her bazongas in the short attire and pumping her hair. "She's got moxxie, I like her, but this ain't gonna fix nobody. Not if she doesn't get the chance to hear the shit we slogged through to get here. Not everything in life is rainbows, and I'll be damned again if I let miss sunshine over there come at this the wrong way."

"Hey Mimz, you good? I know Al's bony but didn't think you'd landed hard enough for that level of blood." Husk prods at her dress, and she glances down. He frowns immediately, putting some things together. "Not yours. Shit, how long have you been hiding that, Al? Thought you learned your lesson on that shit after we ran into that mob family in 28."

For his part, Alastor was sititng up against the nearby wall, disgruntled from being so carelessly batted aside by Lucifer. All powerful arrogant angelic bastard. You could feel the anger simmering behind that smile... always had it out for authority figures, even in life.

Blood was clearly leaking from beneath his shirt, not that the deer was willing to acknowledge it. Mimzy sat right down on the man's lap, no hesitation, and Angel thought he was going to choke on his own tongue at the sight. Anyone else tried that, they'd be in pieces right now. Except maybe Husk... now he knew about that little dynamic. Or, maybe Niffty? But she was different, crawled all over the guy.

Angel was about 60% sure Alastor would laugh if he tried that under normal flirtatious circumstances, because that's the dynamic they've cultivated... but right now, he'd die. Straight up no hesitation.

"It's fine, Mag-... Mimzy landing on me when the melancholy mallard shoved us out of the way simply snapped the remaining stitches. It's nowhere near as dramatic as it looks, I assure you."

"Gotta be angelic of some kind if it ain't healed yet." Husk narrows his eyes, expertly deflecting the hands that tried to stop him from opening the topmost layer of coat. He'd clearly played this game before. "Thought something was fucked when Adam went to try and get Charlie, couldn't find you after..."

"Then you understand why it is vital such information is kept from the prying eyes of sinners who might run to another overlord with that information, yes?" Alastor snipes back, tone low to avoid drawing royal attention. His tendrils glitch but manage to grab Mimzy and pull her off him... only for the space to immediately fill with Husk. The bartender not even twitching an eye.

"You gonna calm down and let me see? I could tell the king we might need some help..." Husk grins, and Angel is shocked to see Alastor's ears go flat against his head. What the FUCK he thought those were like hair tufts?!

"Do it, and I tell everyone about what happened at Madame Rosary's speakeasy in 1932, and why we were banned."

"Says more about you than me..." Husk actually hesitates.

"Please. Smiles. I'll do anything to know what happened." Angel interjects, rummaging in his chest fluff for his mini first aid kit - always helpful when you worked for a guy like Val. "I'll suck ya di-..."

"Ah, Husker, it seems you already told him the story!" Alastor teased, as the cat's expression flushed under the fur. Mimzy smacked the overlord over one of his ears, earning her a wounded glare.

"Hey, you tell it properly or the hot spider guy's gonna think all the wrong things about that night. Now stop distracting so we can deal with this... and don't you dare shadow yourself elsewhere, or I'LL start talking about the nights in the cabin. I'm sure that fuckin' picture box'd pay top dollar for that information..."

Alastor begins to waver slightly.

Husk digs his claws into the man's injured side. "Hey, no translating into radio waves neither, you're predictable when you're cornered smart ass. It's why we-... forget it. This ain't good, and we need to get this sorted before someone sees, alright?"

"Sees what?" Vaggie asks, suspicious disdain dripping from the tone. Only to pull up short. "Did... did I do that?"

She darts her eye to the tip of her reclaimed spear.

"No." comes the clipped reply as Husk is garbbed by the scruff with a tendril and hoited into the air. Alastor shoved himself upright with less grace than normal, surprisingly even himself with the sudden complexity of the task. "I would ask you to ignore this little situation, and I will handle Mimzy's antics. Go see to your girlfriend..."

Vaggie tenses.

Alastor's tone softens. "Vagatha, on top of today's upset I strongly suspect that she is still quite burdened by the loss of her little dragon friend and the snake fellow. I have caught her staring at their respective monuments on at least four occasions today alone. There is more going on under the surface than she is willing to allow you to see... so I would kindly suggest you stop poking your nose into my business and go play loyal but loving knight to your princess."

"Fine. But not because you told me to."

"That's the spirit!"

"You're still so good at playing up the charm when you tell someone to fuck off, Al." Mimzy giggled, playfully batting him on the shoulder. "But enough about that, let's patch this up or I'm gonna go tattle to Rosie that you hid this from her and you know what she'll do."

Husk and Alastor's expressions went frighteningly blank for the barest heartbeat.

"That will NOT be necessary my dear Magnolia. If I find you shared this information, I will send you through regeneration myself."

"No you won't Boss. C'mon..." Husk says, reasserting normality with the one sentence, enough that even Alastor seemed to relax. "We can fix this up in the kitchen, they won't come in there. Don't think either of 'em have ever cooked without magic in their entire lives..."

Angel paused outside the kitchen, uncertain if he would be allowed in as well. The decision was made for him by Mimzy, who dragged the starlet inside by his lapels and sent a pointed glare at the now-watching royal family (and to-be, in the case of Vaggie). A real 'stay outta this' that meant business.

Realistically, it was like an ant threatening a god... but the point was, Mimzy had at least vaguely attempted to make a claim here.

Angel pauses as the doors swing shut, beacuse not only is the coat off but Alastor is allowing Husk to help remove the undershirt and this is more of Alastor than he's ever seen before. It's like seeing your PE teacher in a ballgown or something, sure it's possible... but you never think about it, so it doesn't really exist ni your universe.

Apart from the fluff there, and boy does he wanna compare to see if it's as soft as his own or Husk's. He vaguely wonders if anyone in Hell knows that... but then, he'd learned all sorts of shit about these three in the past few months. The kind of shit that blew his mind.

He thought his human life had been unusual, 'cause of the drugs and sex and mob violence... but it was only a different kind of chaotic nightmare. None of the affectionate one for all three musketeers type relationship these three had had going on, though. Would've been nice.

Vaguely, he hands over the first aid kit he'd found in his chest fluff. It had an enchantment on it to make it bigger on the inside, you could hide something palm sized in his fluff, easy enough, but you couldn't store much in it that'd be useful without a little magic.

Husk is already tugging the damaged bandages off, trying to be careful despite the urgency he was clearly feeling. A lot of the blood was getting to the sticky stage where it went glue like, and that always felt like a nightmare to pull off of fur.

"Fuck me sideways..." Angel murmurs, as the full extent of the injury is bared. There were signs of healing at the furthest edges, but the torn stitches frame the rest of the very much still angry and weeping wound from shoulder to opposing waist. The snapped cords had pulled and bruised at the skin, and there was this persistent Heat to it.

"Why, as we've established through viewing your delightfully bizarre show and tell submissions, my good fellow, I believe many others have beaten us to such a feat." Alastor laughs, and there's no disdain or cruelty in the tone. It's just a jibe. Like he does to Husk on occasion... cool, cool, so he's not going to be eaten for protein. Excellent.

Husk puts a paw right beside the wound. "Can you stop goddamn talking and laughing, you self-destructive asshole? The whole thing keeps gaping so hard I think your guts are going to fall out." There's a pause as he whips around to point at Angel and Mimzy, "Do NOT."

"That's what he said!" the pair chorus, and startle the other.

"Oh... I think we're keeping this one, he's got a helluva sense of humour. This the guy you're sweet on Husky?" Mimzy bats her eyelashes, grinning knowingly. "I see you still like 'em tall and gorgeous..."

Husk growls back. "Hey, can you do a little more helping and a little less trying to hook us up. And what do you mean 'still' name one other-..."

Alastor is actually looking at him with his ears partially down. "Are you saying I wasn't tall and gorgeous to you Husker? You absolute cad!"

Husk seems to be trying to work out if he's being played or the crazy bastard is serious. The grin is hard to work around until you start to notice Smiles' quirks.

"I'm pretty sure you're fucking with me, Al... but you know you were always stunning, you bastard. Well, actually, no. The only one who didn't notice was literally YOU... had to beat people off with a stick, me and Mim, not that you ever noticed." The cat rolls his eyes, handing an antiseptic pad over to Mimzy, and smiling as Angel intercepted it.

"You what now?" a burble of radio stations changing filled the air as the Radio Demon's confusion let his control slip for a moment. A sharp static screech rang out at the first touch of the pad to the wound.

"You. Were. HOT." Husk elaborates. "For a cocky motherfucker who liked to spread chaos and pick fights with people in bigger weight classes, just for the hell of it. You think I would've stuck around for all that crazy if you two weren't ridiculously attractive?"

Alastor lets out a dramatic gasp. "Why Husker, are you suggesting you only liked us for our Looks? How dare you say such a thing, reducing us to mere arm dressing you cruel cassanova! Mimzy be outraged for us both I don't have the bandwidth right now."

"Well what answer do you want? I can never tell with you." Husk sighs, exasperated, but in a fond way. "I never regretted the crazy shit you both brought into my life, or being with you, and yes you were attractive in life so that factored in. But when you died it fell apart. Happy?"

"I would be if-" Alastor pauses with a hiss as Angel carefully dabbed at a rather persistent trickle from the middle of the wound. "If you could stop using past tense about our general attractiveness..."

Husk's tail paused mid-twitch, ears alert. "What?"

"Hah, he didn't realise. Well, I find both looks appealing, but you know me... it's also about if the sweet inside the wrapper is just as good. And I knew you two had my back, back then... if not now."

"Okay, first of all Maggie, you start shit all over Hell and then run to us for help. It gets old fast, especially when we literally spent half our human lives doing that. You don't do as much reciprocating here. "

She waggles her eyebrows. "Oh, if you wanted me to get Reciprocal you should have said husky..."

"Not what I meant and you know it. When was the last time you pitched in to solve our problems, huh?"

She pouts and crosses her arms. "Hey, I helped with that fish overlord... and I helped confuse Vox enough that time to help you both break out of his clutches!"

"I-... yeah, okay, fair."

"And I';'ve been lookin' into something for Al for his dea-...mppph!"

"You know about that too? How the fuck...? Al, you need to warn me that Mimz knows, she's a potential leak for this mess." Husker rounds on the guy, and Angel feels the slight flinch under his hands. "I know you can't talk about it, but whatever the fuck is happening, you can at least give me some part of the mess to help."

"Why?" Alastor asks.

"Why?" Angel finds himself echoing accidentally, taking on a small pair of scissors to remove the remaining sutures. They're not ideal, but he'd used worse in his days as an impromptu medic in life and on the set. He feels eyes fall on him, and the heat of them is... it feels like a sniper dot for the intensity.

"I mean... he owns your souls right? Even if you did have some throuple type shit going on on earth, and it sounds like ya did, right now he Owns You. Why would you even care if the guy who owns you is on a leash, much less help him? Right now... this could be your chance to get your souls back,"

He startles as two different sets of hands grab his wrists, and mentally plays back the conversation. "Whoa, I don't mean I'm a threat or nothing I'm just... trying to figure this out. Cause I don't-... it wouldn't be like that for anyone else, I don't think. You get this golden opportunity for freedom AND power on a plate but you'restanding here throwing it away. I can't think of any other sinner who would. Hell, I've seen family betray one another for a sniff of this type of chance."

"That's the thing, Angel Dust, emotional bonds are far stranger and prone to logical fallacy than any other. They do not kill me or use this as a chance for freedom, because... I strongly suspect some part of them still cares if I live or die." Alastor chuckles darkly. "Long after I myself stopped caring. But, if you must know, their deals are not anything like yours. I made them to protect them. No one touches what belongs to the Radio Demon... and no one tries to gather a debt from one of those under my charge. Be it cash or flesh."

"You can see how it's fucked up to like, enslave your friends right? Friends? Lovers? Partners? Whatever ya are."

"Perhaps, but this is hell. Did you not also make strange decisions under the influence of affection? What would you do to keep Miss Bomb safe if you had the power to make deals? What of your piglet... or, hmmm, Husker here? Dont worry, I don't ask out of jealousy, merely curious." Alastor purrs, claws digging through the steel benchtop as Angel has to tug at a thread. "Steady on, my effeminate fellow... that's unfortunately very aware of your ministrations."

"Just say it hurts, Smiles. I've been there and have the season pass at this point for this kindsa shit. Nearly done, though." He pokes his tongue out the side of his mouth in concentration. "You know, this... heat... or whatever it is, I don't think it's normal. Might be an infection? Can angelic steel cause infections? I never knew anyone alive long enough after an Extermination to know."

"I... have no idea! There's the fun of it! But you can survive an angelic blade, it merely takes far longer to heal that you would expect. Quite the nuisance when other overlords are always sniffing around seeking weaknesses."

"Yeah, I can imagine it sucks being all powerful and getting humbled like that." Angel snipes back, suddenly angry. Not with Al, not per say, but the idea of Overlords in general just seemed to flick a switch.

"Being a run of the mill sinner may seem a nightmare, Angel, but there's hidden dangers attached to being an Overlord that I don't expect you to understand." Alastor frowned, tone... not patronising, but perhaps tired. "At the moment you look over your shoulder every time you leave a location to see what chaos the world is bringing and if it intends you harm. But you, a sinner with a claim on you, know that there will be likely retribution should someone hurt you... apart from the moth, that is."

"And what? You big guys have it worse?"

"No. No I'm saying that the same applies to overlords, but the people waiting in the dark are on another level. Everyone you meet wants something, Angel, and they are always watching to see you fail. Every deal brings power and a soul, but it equally means another one to watch over and protect. If you fall, they fall. And if you should gain the attention of the wrong person... things can jeopardise your souls."

There's a pause as Angel applies a numbing agent to the tattered skinaround and in the wound. Alastor seemed confused by such a gesture, clearly having braced for the matter to be dealt with otherwise.

"I'm not going to sew you up without giving you something, you weird ass deer... I know you overlords are tough but... you don't always have to be, right? Wait, hold on, have you been doing this yourself without even the decency of a panadol or two? You-..." it dissolves into some sort of italian then.

Alastor looks to Husk for a translation, sees the grimace, and decides not to ask. "Angel, even you benefit from being so known, from being Valentino's and part of the Vees. Not in a good eay, but there is a fear about what reprisal would exist if someone tried something not sanctioned by your overlord. There is a sick comfort in that, correct? If someone toppled your moth tomorrow, you wouldn't know anything about the person taking ownership of your soul... not how to appease them, or what they wanted. A level of fear and dread you haven't had to face for decades I assume?"

"Yeah...?" Angel asks, prodding at the area and noting the slight flinch. He puts more cream over the injury and waits.

"A good overlord, and I assume there have to be some out there, cares about at least some of the souls under them. For example, if someone harmed Niffty I would turn them inside out and hold their soul in their body until they had expressed enough sincere apology that they deserved the chance to die." The air went thick with scrambled distortion and symbols for just a moment, before it flickered out. "Why, they practically beg for death at the end, ha hah! In anycase, it is imperative for someone with souls under them to ensure they maintain their status. Both as a means of self-protection, and to keep those leashed to them safe. But every soul you contract may choose to harm you unless specified specifically otherwise in their deal... and even then a third party may be used or an injury that Could be Fatal can be imbued. It's all about the wording. And that's before you even consider the threat of other Sovereigns against yourself... and any hint of weakness results in everything crumbling."

"I get it, we're fucked no matter which end of the pyramid we sit on right? Just.. differently. I don't think I'd handle that sorta pressure, same way I don't think you'd switch places with me for anything." Angel shrugs, touching the wound again and getting no response. "Hold still, I was always good at my threadwork but flesh is always a little tougher than fabric you know."

"Husker, find out whatever is in that little kit of your paramour, and ensure that we order twice the amount of whatever was used. I would not like to hear that he ran out simply because his generosity outweighed his common sense."

"Sure thing boss..." Husk said, turning away the small smirk that was threatening to grow across his features. He leans in close to Angel. "That's his way of sayin' I think he likes you, and he appreciates the care you've shown. He's just a stubborn fucking ass about it, always has been. I think if he had a genuine emotional heart to heart it might kill him."

"Sounds like someone wants me to drop his soul from my list and let you manage your own debts, hmmm?"

"Nah, you won't." Husker grins. "You still love me, even after all this shit. Or you wouldn'tt put up with a fraction of the nonsense Mimzy and I get up to."

He received an audience booing for his troubles, but those ears were twitching as if unsure whether they wanted to pin back. Alastor seemed to think on his response before opening his mouth to retort...

The moment is ruined by the doors being blasted open and Lucifer strides in, flanked by Charlie and Vaggie. Both holding his arms and pulling as if to stop the King, but not exactly succeeding.

"Okay Bambi, we need to talk about your little degenerate friend-... what the fuck happened to you?" The king pulls up short, confused at the scene before him. Charlie gasps, and her eyes are filling with tears again before Vaggie can get there to assuage her.

"Nothing that requires your interference, your lowness, and rest assured I have spoken to Mimzy about maintaining her manners. She has agreed to make more appropriate conversational decisions in future... but let's be realisitic here, sire, this was going to happen eventually. Charlie has only ever known Hell, and the version you and... her mother... cultivated. Of course she wouldn't understand the complexities of human lives, of societies, and of the inherent power and control put in place even in systems made to help those struggling with various issues. Such as Mimzy and husker pointed out."

"Listen asshole, there's such a thing as easing people into terrible news, you could try it." Lucifer snarls back, eyes flickering to red.

"Forgive me, your majesty, but isn't Charlie older than literally everyone else in this room excepting yourself? That seems a long time to leave her ignorant... human history is a subject that will never end if you don't start teaching the fundamentals now. Why, ha-hah, if you think about it, each day passed adds more to the curriculum!"

"Did I like, knock you into a wall or something? Or is he generally this level of asshole even without a concussion?" Lucifer asked the room at large. Waving it off magnanimously, he points at the wound. "That's not going to heal for the next decade if you keep using basic first aid at it, there's Angelic Grace in it, idiot. For that you'd need, oh, well look at that... Me... to remove it."

"No, a decade isn't that long in terms of eternity, little majesty. I can wait." Alastor parries, noting that Husker and Mimzy have shifted slightly to be between them. Angel continues sewing flesh back together, warily watching Lucifer from the corner of his eyes.

"Fair enough, suffer then. But if your annoying thrall ever causes my Charlie that level of distress again, I end both of you."

"Dad, please, we just talked about this!" Charlie hissed. "I need to know this sort of stuff to help, and yes it was shocking and I was upset... but not for ME! For Mimzy and Al and Husk and Angel and the thousands of Sinners who went through that, who might be afraid of help because of their experiences in the past... and that's before coming to Hell. Imagine how they feel now?"

"I heard you, Duckling, but my point stands. There's a right way and a wrong way... and he's probably doing it for entertainment."

"Well so what? He's helped us, and fought for us and clearly it's my fault THAT happened..." she gestures at the wound. "So if all I get back is the occasional uncomfortable truth and an offer to have like, people for dinner, that's fine with me. We're okay, dad."

"What was that bit about eating people?"

"Oh unclench your tightness, it's a joke. I know sinner is an accquired taste..." Alastor waves off, and gets a silent look of reproach from Angel who nearly dropped the needle into the wound at the unexpected movement.

"Yeah, what's that taste like? Chiken, pork?"

"Ah, it differs from person to person..." A laugh track plays and the spider snorts, oh that was TERRIBLE. "And besides, my good arachnid, I would have thought of all people present you'd be well versed in having sinner meat in your mo-...mmmph?"

Husk had slapped a paw over the smart mouth, as Angel's fell open in shock. Had the overlord just seriously made that joke?

"Ignore him, he gets difficult when he's injured and you left the door open for that one."

"No, I mean, that was fuckin' hilarious and I didn't expect it outta Smiles. Where has this rude sense of humour been the whole time we've been livin' here?"

Mimzy scoffed at Al. "You still playing polite hotelier? Pfft, okay that's fair, miss pretty princess there might straight up die if you made one of your fancy word naughty quips at her."

"She's made of sterner stuff, ususally, I promise." Alastor mutters, as Husk removes the paw warily. Thinks better of it, and covers the man's mouth again before a pussy based joke escapes. He's suffering enough in hell without the terrible puns.

"Can you behave, Al? Some of us are having a heck of a day and that was before we find out you were hiding this sort of shit again." Husk mumbles, letting his shoulders sag and the wings droop a little. Mimzy would be vocal as hell about injuries, and Husk would be stoic until they were safely out of the firing line, but Al used to do the old 'oop, i think im feeling off' and then collapse on you bullshit. This was toeing the line here for husk's tolerance.

Lucifer rolls up his sleeves, after some pointed whispering from Charlie, and approaches. Alastor rears back snarling with all his teeth. Angel fumbles for the thread.

"Can you stop it there Short King, I'm nearly done and you're sending the patient into bloodlust."

"What? Oh, don't worry about it, I can pin him down easy enough... King of Hell and all. Overlords mean nothing to me."

Angel felt anger rise up, and noted the way Al stiffened. "hold up, ya Majesty. Might want to rethink that statement cause it sounded fuckin' awful, and pro tip... just cause you CAN doesn't mean you Should. Val can pin me down and pour acid in my face if he's mad, but it don't mean I want him to. He could also do it to put a bandaid on a burn he's given me. Same sentiment though."

That pulls Lucifer up short, and the angel frog blinks. "What? I'm just going to pull that Grace out, he should be thanking me?"

"You could try asking, or not making it sound like you're forcing yourself on someone... that kinda language is really fucking triggering when you've been there. And I know you've been overhearing Mimz here prattle on about their lives up top, you know full well that they've all dealt with being forced, being made to do something, even if it never got far. Like with me. The memory doesn't distinguish that... your brain tells your body to panic."

Angel finds he's furious at the King, and for what? Some words? The intent behind them? The fact that he felt Alastor shaking for just a split second before the Overlord overrode that reaction with anger?

"I didn't-..."

"You didn't think. No. I get that, it's just... you need to, though. Little things can send you into a spiral... I know you know what that's like. I've got eyes, Short King, you've been there too."

"Well, okay, I apologise for setting everyone off with my words. I'll use a better statement next time, okay? Now if the big bad overlord is done having all the regular sinners defend him, can he please be a big boy and let me get this over with?"

Oh, there go the antlers.

Husk puts a wing between them. "Just want to put it out there, your majesty, that being talked down to by authority and referred to as 'boy' or 'girl' as an adult is... something pretty common in our time. For It was the racism, you see. Might want to pull back on that too. Hard to tell in sinner form what everyone was before, but the memories don't fade out that fast. Still gets me heated under the collar when I hear it."

"Er, okay... then could the big angry deer please let me within like a foot of him so I can pull the Grace out, because you're functionally useless..." there's a very pointed pause, and you can feel a fight coming on, but it's suddenly clear his majesty has zoned out. Vaggie claps her hands near the King's ear. "What? Oh, what was I saying? There's something pressing on the wards... not sure what though."

Alastor closes his eyes, and grimaces. "Worry not, that's merely Vox seeking to play voyeur again. I will deal with it in a moment."

"Are you sure? I could swat him like That!"

"It's a matter of principle, if Vox is turned away by you, he will wonder why I didn't do it. And he will either come himself, or send another spy... and despite Charlie's best attempts, I'm not certain the next one will be swayed by a song about apologies."

"...fair. What was I saying? Something about that rendering you useless at defending the place? Whatever, I don't technically have to touch you, but it could help make it faster."

"...if you must."

In a painfully awkward 45 seconds, the King presses two fingertips to the still open portion of wound and concentrates until small globules of something metallic and bright begin to at the location. They seem to be expanding from unseen miniscule amounts over time.

Carefully pulling away, Lucifer calls the droplets to him, letting them sink into his palm and disappear. "Whew, okay, that was more than I thought. All gone though, so that mess will heal on its own at the normal rate. And if we're lucky, there'll be no Charlie the 2nd out of that one..."

Everyone pauses. "What?"

"Kidding, you should see your faces! It took a decade of concentrated energy and some very specific magic to create you, Sweetie, you were planned out more meticulously than the construction of any Ring in Hell. Just wanted to crack a joke, you're all so tense. Sheesh, touchy much today?"

"Please don't ever try comedy your majesty, your little clown outfit if more than enough..." Alastor retorts dryly. Angel carefully returns to the task of closing the wound the last two or so inches and ties off the thread. "Thank you my good man."

His expression glitches for a moment, before the lights flicker and something explodes outside. "Vox has been thoroughly removed from the premises, for now. Do pay attention to any update requests you may get on those infernal devices, the terms and conditions can allow Vox to use your phone as a portal if you agree. Not to mention they're all just pretty little spy cameras for him... though not here, thankfully."

Husk and Mimzy are passing a bandage around the too-thin torso, and the fact Alastor isn't protesting, means that this wouldn't be the first time. And he clearly knows he wouldn't win if he tried.

The minute it's tucked square away, Husk smack the overlord on the undamaged side of his chest. "Don't pull this shit again."

"Aw, don't be mean Husky... you know you love playing nursemaid." Mimzy titters, winking at him until the cat hisses back.

"I've got a whole costume for that if you wanna try that on for size...?" Angel offers, enjoying seeing two sets of animal airs flicker his way then flatten. "Oh c'mon, don't I get a little something for today?"

"You can have a date with Husker and the satisfaction of eating part of the moth when I get the time to kill him in a challenge. How does that sound?" Alastor offers vaguely, slipping his shirts closed and buttoning rapidly to the throat. "Try pushing the outfits again and I will have Niffty alphabetise your growing toy collection according to her own internal narrative."

Angel gasps in horror. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh but I would!" Alastor grins, sharply, and Mimzy laughs. "Now go and do something that isn't gawping at us, and I shall look over what we have in the pantry for dinner. Mimzy, you would burn this palce down and you will recall a no-cooking clause in our deal, so please vacate the area. But do try to ease up on the my dear Charlotte, and at least pretend to capitulate to her exercises... you are a resident after all."

She grumbles, crossed arms and petulant expression on full display. "Thanks I get for keepin my boys alive,I tell ya, no gratitude..."

Lucifer rolls his eyes, "Okay, enough of this... I'm going to check the small red one hasn't destroyed the hotel. Coming, Charlie? Vaggie?"

"Er, sure..." Charlie seems slightly shellshocked and leans against Vaggie as they follow her father out. "Today's been... a lot."

Angel rubs his arm, awkwardly. "So uh, you don't mind if I like take Husk for drinks or something? I never really worked out what your status is down here."

"Husker is free to do as he wants... and he likes you. I suppose I am rather fond of you as well, given how well you handle a crisis and your commitment to the hotel. Especially now that we can see the real you under that fake persona..." Alastor replies.

Angel can't help but chuckle. "Pot. Kettle. Smiles."

"True. How bold of you to sass an Overlord, Angel. You will be an intriguing addition... should you wish it."

"Like... as a soul on your chain when you kill Val, or to this whatever it is? Cause no offence, but I don't do broads outside'a films and when Val's holding me hostage for cash. And I dunno how I'd feel about all of you anyway, that's a lot..."

husk rolls his eyes. "He doesn't mean date us, just like, putitng up with them and dating me. If you want. They're kind of attached, even if it ain't official anymore... call it karmic bullshit or something. We can be exclusive if you'd like, though; I haven't messed about with them since before I died."

Angel let out an indignant squeak. "What? You got these two hotties here and you ain't even tried their demonic forms out for a test drive? Husk, Husker, Whiskers, baby, are you serious? I'm almost tempted to do it for you..."

"...please do restrain yourself, if at all possible, Angel. I think we've contaminated the counters enough for one day." Alastor responds, wiping down the same with an antibacterial spray Charlie insisted they utilise. "And if dearest Vagatha came in, we may just kill her from shock to see someone misappropriating the kitchen in such a manner..."

Angel needs a long moment as his brain pauses to absorb several creative visuals. "Uh.... I mean, I got time and there's still heaps in that cleaner, right? Maybe you could get Spooky Jnr to keep Vaggie out?"

"Oooh, I'm game if you are... won't touch ya, but I'll be here." Mimzy grins, taking in all of Angel.

Husk covers his eyes with a paw and groans. "Okay, for one, no one's getting up to anything in here because I think we'd all prefer to break in our sinner forms somewhere more comfortable than this. Two, you you fucking idiot are injured and we're not breaking those stitches again. And for three, this one is mine until further notice so back off..."

"Wait, wait, wait, NONE of you have gotten frisky in these forms?"

"There's never been a need, or a time when the three of us were on the same page and in a similar headspace." Alastor shrugged.

Mimzy rolled her eyes, "Listen, I've got a busy schedule so... I was getting to it. Also a lot shorter than I used to be so that took some getting used to."

"Not to mention SOME ASSHOLE disappeared for like 7 years without warning just when everyone was finally getting along and addressing the shit we needed to from our sudden deaths." Husker replied.

"There was a reason, I just can't say. Not yet, anyway." Alastor shrugged. "Why, did you miss meeeeee....?"

"...yes, you smug fuck, of course we did. Niffty was fucking beside herself it took Rosie and me to keep her from throwing herself at angels during Exterminations..."

The ears drooped. "Ah... well, if it's any consolation, I didn't choose to leave. It turns out you can be summoned by people in-..." the words crackles off into a forced silence. The shadow pointed upwards.

Angel felt his eyes blow wide. "No fuckin' way. Who could have the power to-..."

The answer jumped out at him, something from an earlier conversation about Charlie. The way everything hinged on her and pushing Lucifer away.

"It's... the other parent, ain't it? Of your not-kid, Charlie, right?"

"...you are too clever by half to be just a porn starlet, dear Angel."

Husk's fur bristled. "What's she got on you? Why give someone like that your soul?"

"Lack of choice. Like I said, I am familiar with angelic wounds."

"Healed by that person? Or made by that person?"

"Ah, husker, why not both? No need to dwell on it for now. There is nothing immediate that needs managing. You have a date with your arachnid... you still have your card?"

"What? Of course I do, you know I do why are you trying to distract me from this?"

"Because nothing can be changed now. So why worry? Feel free to have dinner out, I will leave portions of whatever I come up with in the fridge for you, should you decide to go dancing or some other exhausting outlet that means dinner is not quite enough."

Behind the deer's back, Angel and Husk shared a Look. Mimzy nodded at them, and Alastor tensed for reasons he didn't understand.

"Actually, I'd like to stay and see what you're making. My Nonna and Ma taught me a whole bunch of stuff but nothing like what you cook. You mind?" Angel offers.

"Its been a while since we all made a meal together... and I promise to keep an eye on Mimzy so she doesn't set anything ablaze." Husker adds.

"Hey, you don't complain when I offer other options for dinner..." Mimzy simpers, and the collective groan in the room makes her laugh so hard she almost falls off the bench. "Oh, c'mon, that was a good one."

"Yeah yeah..." Husk rolls his eyes and washes his hands. "What do you need me to chop up for this?"

Angel watches the process like a hawk, cheerfully asking to take on dicing the meat when he sees the overlord flagging as the repetitive motion wears on his wakening nerves about the injury.

Mimzy is exceptionally helpful and not at all a menace, as long as someone is paying attention to her actions the whole time.

It's not clear when the room filled with soft music, but it was nice. The aroma of a meal nearly done wafted about, and it took a moment before anyone noticed the deer had fallen asleep atop one of the chairs. Tucked into a corner, one elbow on the bench and his head resting on the hand attached.

The music emanated from him, somehow.

"Aw, fuck me that's cute..." Angel grins. He'd have to burn this into his brain cause if he took a photo it'd wake Al, and Vox'd have a field day with that kind of image.

"...you should've seen him when he was alive." Mimzy murmured back. "Cute, less red... just as easy to trick into exhausting himself when he was being stubborn about it."

"One of my best magic tricks was getting these two to look after themselves." Husk shrugged, huffing a chuckle as he plated up some of the thick, chunky stew. "Now dig in before it gets cold, and I'll drop some plates out at the dining table."

"You could get Niffty to-... oh, nope, she's found Al already."

Angel blinks across the room to find Niffty fast asleep in Al's lap. She hadn't been there a second ago and they were facing the only doors. So how...?

His thoughts slowed as he took a bite of the stew, and suddenly the starlet realised he might just have to join this crazy whatever it was with Husk and the others, just to get food like this everyday. If his Nonna was here, he's sure she'd want the recipe.

But, as good things in Hell often do, the moment was spoiled by the sound of his phone going off. He had work to get to.

Well, at least it was just some backcountry pumpkin-based fuckfest. Nothing he couldn't handle.

---

Or so he thought.

The minute he arrives, the chain manifests, dragging him into the dressing room set aside for Angel Dust.

He panics, mentally, trying to think about what he might have done or not done to get this response. Only to come face to face with Valentino AND Vox.

Vox leans forwards in his chair, grabbing hold of the chain and pulsing blue up the length. Taking temporary ownership.

"Now Angel, I understand you've been spending time with dear Mimzy, that little nightmare, and she's been sharing some fun factoids about the Radio Demon! Some of the others in the hotel were putting bits and piecces out there and our lovely Velvette collected that information on our behalf."

Angel felt his heart plunging into his stomach.

"Yesterday, all of that went silent... so I thought I'd go right to the source. The one who's spent a lot of time around her in the past few days if the photos are to be believed, gathering intel for us. That's what you were doing, right? Of course you were. You love Val, and want to make him happy."

"Yes Mr Vox, of course." he simpers automatically. "Anything for Val...entino."

"Of course, of course! And naturally, given your knowledge, and the heh radiosilence of the last day or so, I think it's only fair that I ask some questions to clarify. How does that sound? Could you tell me the truth, Angel?" Vox grins, looming.

Apologising, even as his heart begins to thunder and his stomach roil with the thick taste of shame and betrayal, Angel feels his smiling lips move. "Of course, Mr Vox... anything for the Vees."

"Good boy, Angel..." Valentino purrs, carding though Angel's hair. "Now tell my Voxxy what he really wants to know... does the radio demon have a tail?"

Angel could have cried from the odd thrill of relief such a stupid satement brought. Please let them all be so vaguely intrusive and easily answered.

"According to Mimzy, yes he does. I havent seen it, but she said it was like a deer's, but red and white and black."

"Is he really with that woman and the cat?"

"It's complicated, they had a thing when they were alive but I can;t get a read on them now. It's like..." he pauses, trying not to be seen as impertinent. "Like the Vees, you all move around each other just knowing how to work as a trio, but if no one was paying attention or you didn't need 'em to know, no one would know if you all shared a bed or whatever. You know?"

"...good answer. Now for the big ticket question... is Alastor still injured after fighting Heaven?"

Angel felt sick. Why can't he have one good thing? This was going to ruin any chance with husk, with Charlotte, and break the fragile trust he'd made with Smiles.

"Yes. He is. But the King did something to fix it, so I dunno."

"...Angel, does Alastor own his own soul?"

He pauses, as if thinking. "Mimzy didn't say anything about that sorta thing, you want me to ask indirectly?"

But that swirling eye was getting so wide, filling his vision.

"Oh, I think you might know some more than that, you just need help to put it together, huh? I know how smart you are Angel..."

"I... don't... think so... something... about... he said..."

"Good boy, yes?"

His mouth is moving on its own and he can't stop it. "Alastor... said something to... Husk... aout being summoned... elswhere. Didn't go by choice... seven years? Don;t know what it means."

"And who do you think owns the Radio Demon, Angel?"

"Think... hates Lucifer... loves Charlie... said something weird... other day... think... Queen?"

Vox's expression went from psychotically aroused to abolute malicious joy in a split second. He released the now dizzy Angel, who flopped forwards right into Valentino's waiting arms.

"Good boy Angel... very good boy. You've done so well." Valentino purrs at him, and Angel feels the hands travelling over his body to the places that tingled up his spine. It was clearly a Reward day.

"Well, that changes the game completely, my old friend..." Vox murmurs, as Angel is steered across the room to the plush couch and a half dozen hands toy with his every nerve. Vox watches detachedly.

If only he could warn them that Vox knew.

If only-... but he couldn't, not yet. The contract was in place for now.

Time to perform, and then get home.

As Valentino did his best to show Angel his pleasure for a task well done, Angel found his mind wandering back to thoughts about cooking earlier. And he vaguely wondered if there'd be stew in the fridge when he returned...

"Good boy, Angel..." Valentino whispered, and his body shuddered but his mind was already at the hotel.

"Thank you Daddy..." he whispers, just the right amount of breathless that got them likes on their online content.

"I think you can have a night off, see what else you can hear..."

"Oooh, you spoil me Daddy, I will, I promise!"

I will... kill you the first chance I get, Val. Promise.

He is halfways back to the hotel before his mind catches up, but he doesn't let the 'dazed lovedrunk smile #4' he perfected so well for the camera, drop. Aware of the surveillance cameras watching his route home.

When the doors close behind him, Angel collapses to his knees, and then Husk is there, and Angel is sobbing.

"What did he do? Angel, are you hurt?"

"No, No I-... he made me... the things I know... he wanted to know..."

"It's alright Angel, this was inevitable. I will handle this." Alastor advises.

"Not with that injury, mister!" Mimzy interjects.

"Wait, not tonight, they'll assume I said something. They know about your... tail... and you and husk and mimzy. They asked about your deal... I'm sorry I couldn't... his eye..."

"It is genuinely alright Angel, Vox has been obsessed for decades, its no surprise he found out. Merely a nuisance that I now must kill them all rather than one at a time."

"Okay, but not tonight... when we go to end them, I want them to have no chance to stop you. Can't do that when you're injured, right?"

"Hmmm, true. Alright, we shall pencil it in... next week sometime. Let's get you settled, we have some food set aside as you never finished yours." He glanced over the other. "Or perhaps Husker can escort you to your room for a quick shower, the effect that little eye trick has makes one feel quite in need of one..."

"Oooh, Husky, change your mind about the nurse costume? I'll take a spongebath anyday for you, Sister Whiskers..."

"Keep that up and I get Al to bathe you."

Angel felt his expression deepen into Lustful Thoughts #6 and there was a record scratch. "No, I shan't be available. Injured and all that..."

Mimzy howled with laughter.

"You lot are fucking crazy... I want in." His mouth says before his brain can catch up.

"Welcome to my nightmare, legs..." Husk groans, pulling Angel up and walking them towards the elevators. "Let's get you cleaned up and fed. We need to plan for next time the Vees pull this shit... you can get around questions with careful answers, you know?"

Mimzy paused on the way back to the kitchen, checking no one is around before she sidles up to Al. "You wanna go bang in the King's room, as a big old Fuck You to the guy?"

"Hmmm, tempting, but maybe later... I feel it would have more impact with more participants. And besides, we need to feed the spider some food and the right lines to use under hypnosis... so, let us focus on that for now."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine... but can I at least pet your tail in the kitchen?"

"...I have never understood your fascination, but I see no harm in doing so away from prying eyes."

He had no way of knowing that the covert selfie she took of herself in the act, which was then sent to Husk, would be intercepted by Vox and cause a three day power outage across the Ring.

Lucifer could never prove it was Alastor's fault, but he sure acted like it was until the lights came back on.

-----------

ENDish

this took hours of my weekend for no one to read but me

such a bizarre and likely ooc concept but... why not. at least i have some creativity returning!

[aurae-rori]

Okay. So no pressure if you don't want to, but can you elaborate more on your headcannoning[?] Ratio having a savior complex? Your character analysis are really good so I was just wondering how you see this.

no worries, it's absolutely no pressure - i love talking about this! and thank you so much, i'm so glad that you enjoy my stuff, so let's get right into it.

a saviour complex is defined as "an attitude and demeanour in which a person believes they are responsible for assisting other people." this doesn't mean that people with saviour complexes are necessarily stuck up and believe that they are noble for doing what they do, it just means that they feel like they must help other people. it can stem from feelings like "if i can't, nobody can!" or, alternatively, "i have no worth if i don't help people, this is what i'm meant to do." in helping other people at the expense of the self, it can help the person with the complex feel valued, wanted, loved, and as if they have a purpose.

as someone who does have a saviour complex (and is working on it in therapy, so i'm doing fine - it's much better than it used to be), i can say in past experiences, this has led me to become a sort of mentor figure to other people in my life. although i will never regret becoming an older sibling figure for the people i care about, the reason why i became a "teacher" was rooted in both my own desire to help other people, and also in my need to be validated.

so basically, it all comes down to this - if i don't help other people, i have no value, so therefore, i am useless. this can quickly spiral into suicidal tendencies and should be stopped as soon as possible, but that's a different topic.

the reason why i hc ratio with a saviour complex is because i see a lot of my own behaviours in him. he became an educator to push people to their limits but also because he cares about humanity. being a teacher means bearing responsibility - the same responsibility that someone with a saviour complex will put on themselves. a person with a saviour complex will always place the needs of others over themselves, (choosing humanity over the gaze of an aeon). he seems to also be a perfectionist and berates himself for being unable to meet a standard (which can also reflect into relationships, where a person with a saviour complex will beat themselves up for being unable to help the person they were attempting to 'save'.)

upon failure of being able to help someone or solve their problems, i find that usually what i've seen is that people fall into spirals of depression and self-deprecation, blaming themselves for the issues of others. we don't know how dr ratio canonically feels about failing about 97% of his classes even though he calls them idiots, but he seems to genuinely care about his students and their education. so i like to believe that on some level, just like i used to, he blames himself when people cannot progress. that's not canon though. just a hc.

anyway, taking on massive amounts of responsibility (trying to cure the entire universe of idiocy) and attempting to further help other people through any means possible, even to the point of neglecting yourself (and although ratio says that a relaxation-working life must be balanced, i used to be a hypocrite about that so he can be a hypocrite about it too) and pushing yourself far past what you must.

anyway, i hope this clears up why i hc him with a saviour complex (from someone that unfortunately has one).

i also ask that people don't say 'are you okay?' if you read this post, because i am! you are absolutely allowed to ask me about my experience as a person who has a saviour complex (as long as you're not rude about it) and i will definitely drop more specific hcs about saviour complex ratio if you want to see more.

hope this was worded okay! :)

[capitalism-and-analytics]

I'm no fan of giant megacorporations any more than the average person is, but I reckon people blame them too much for the problems within our society and economy and most of said problems are actually caused by the government. Therefore, the government is the real problem. Corporations are far from perfect, and you can criticise them all you want when it's warranted, but they're not to blame for all our problems and they mostly just do business with each other. But I've seen people blame corporate greed for the inflation rate being so high, and to my knowledge, inflation is mainly caused by the GOVERNMENT printing excessive amounts of money all the time. So how are corpos responsible for the inflation issue, exactly? It must be just because leftists don't understand economics and they hate rich people so much for having more money than them. What are your thoughts on this, by the way?

Regardless of one's bias, inflation is typically measured by comparing price levels over time. Therefore, it is technically valid to claim that any increase in price levels contributes to inflation. This is the "truth" that many claims about inflation are based on.

However, like most things relying on partial truths, there lies a gray area, particularly regarding the question of greed or fairness. Let me illustrate this with three scenarios:

Corporations: They raise prices of goods because the materials needed for production have become more expensive.

Individuals: They demand higher wages because the goods they require are more expensive.

Government: They raise the prices of services because the cost of delivering those services has increased.

In all three scenarios, you see examples of cost-push inflation. Depending on your bias or interpretation, you might accuse any of these actors of "greed" if you believe their price increases exceed what is "fair," even though all three have the same fundamental justification for their price increases: higher input costs.

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

Now with that explained, let me answer your question:

how are corpos responsible for the inflation issue, exactly? It must be just because leftists don't understand economics and they hate rich people so much for having more money than them. What are your thoughts on this, by the way?

Inflation is a complex issue, and opinions on it vary widely. On one end, some believe any profit increase is unjustifiable, while others argue there should be no limits on profit. Most people fall somewhere in between, which is why discussions about inflation can get divisive.

It's not just about a lack of understanding of economics; it's also about how people perceive fairness and profit. Many prefer straightforward arguments, even if they don't have all the evidence to support them. So, the division in opinions often reflects deeper beliefs about economics and fairness rather than simple ignorance.

Moreover, the concept of fairness is subjective and varies greatly among individuals. What seems fair to one person may feel exploitative to another. This disparity in views can lead to strong emotions and polarizing debates, making it challenging to find common ground on such a nuanced topic.

Finally, almost every discussion about inflation tends to operate on only a subset of the necessary evidence and information needed to draw conclusions. It’s no surprise that people remain divided on the issue.

P.S. My personal view is that the government has far more control over corporations than corporations have over the government, making it a primary culprit in inflation. However, to what extent, I cannot say. Hopefully you feel satisfied with my explanation above.

[fipindustries]

everyone talks about the superiority of the machine and how having a robot body would be awesome but when i think about it i dont know of a single machine (least of all one complex enough to be worth being embodied in) that can last more than 20 years, let alone 80 or 90.

like, think about it, we humans spend quite a lot of time outside being exposed to humidity, pollen, dirt, grease and acidity from other people.

we move in a way prone to bumps and scratches. we trip one time and fall to the ground we would risk breaking potentially vital components like our hard drives or any screens we might need to use. our hinges would get worn down really fast due to material fatigue, our inner components would get corroded and really how easy would it be to replace all of that. we complain about how expensive healthcare is but i dont think it would be all that much better when it comes to buying replacement pieces or fixing our chasis or whatever. at least our bio body can fix itself for most minor wounds and such.

one might want to go one step above that and say "well it doesnt matter, my conciousness would be software and hosted online and therefore safe from all physical harm" but have you read the short story Lena by qntm? youd be exposed to being hacked, copied a million times, locked inside emulations of heaven or hell, suddenly the processes that codify your soul are not safely locked inside an unhackable brain, they are on the internet for the entire world to access and fuck with.

so yeah, think twice

[t-hal-mothman]

I was asked several times for commissions, but due to some difficulties I had neither the strength nor the opportunity to open them However, life requires money, and money are expensive (badum tss) SO HERE… I'm opening 2 slots (if there'll be more people, I'll open more slots) for comms "clear" and "colored clear"!

If you're interested feel free to send me a DM.

Price:

Clear B/W (depending on the complexity) without shade and bg Halfbody - $30-40 Fullbody - $50-70 if you want simple shading + $10 - 20 (depending on the complexity)

__________

Clear colour (depending on the complexity) Halfbody - $60-70 Fullbody - $80-100 Background - if it's simple at my discretion, then it's free. If you want specifics, then + $40 plus, depending on the complexity

Terms of service:

I don't have deadlines!!!!! I am disabled. Due to health problems, I can work very slowly, I take care of my injured arm and cannot strain it for a long time. Therefore, the work may take a long time to be done, but I always keep you informed about the process.

I have the right to stylize your character according to my own drawing style, keep this in mind because I will not be ready to edit some of my stylistic techniques. I have my own vision of stylistic anatomy, so sometimes I won't edit what I think was drawn in my vision. In particular, this applies to fan characters (such as Irkens, Vortians, Imps, HS Trolls, etc.)

I DO: (ask anyway)

Fandom characters and fan-children (ask before) Feral and feral-like animals Dragons and dragon-like creatures Closed species Light erotic (ask before) Anthro and human-like characters (ask before) Simple/abstract backgrounds

I DO NOT: (ask anyway) (ask for now) NSFW Complicated armour and cybernetic Detailed backgrounds Really weird things (but you can clarify)

Payment: Paypal via invoice ko-fi (wip)

[randomsporefacts]

the cc demo has locale files that werent pruned at all to the content that only includes stuff relevant to the cc demo, therefore theres numerous strings for even space stage

the files are sorted differently from final, like comparing space_diplomacy~ here (cc demo left, final game right)

the final space_diplomacy~ file is also a lot longer, with a length of 157 146 with 1491 lines, as opposed to the cc demo, where the length is 49 939 with 637 lines

theres also some odd things in the cc demo one like these strings at the end. this is clearly about the home system mission text, buut its worded completely different

0x00000071 We have different options. ~p~ we can find an uninhabited planet that can be colonized. Cheapest option. ~p~ we can turn a rock into an oasis by Terraforming. This is going to cost us. But we have the technology… I think. ~p~ we can setup a trade route with another empire's planet. This will give us the option of buying the planet from them. ~p~ we can always take someone else's planet by convincing(!) them to leave. It is not super expensive. We may pay for it later, though. 0x00000072 I'll find an uninhabited planet that can be colonized. 0x000000AB I'll find a rock to terraform. 0x000000AC I'll set up a trade route. (empty for now) 0x000000AE Let's take over other planets. (empty for now). 0x000000AF Nothing for now. 0x000000B0 Choose who you want as your ally or your enemy. ~p~ Making a friend is harder than making an enemy. You can make them happy by trading with them, giving them money or doing chores for them. If they are happy enough, they will become our ally. ~p~ Making an enemy is much simpler, though. 0x000000B1 Let me find them first. 0x00000266 Let's set up a trade route. (empty for now) 0x00000267 It would be nice to have allies. 0x00000268 Our neighborhood is too crowded. Evacuation time. (empty for now). 0x00000269 Nothing for now. 0x0000026A 0x0000026B I want an Explorer Badge. 0x0000026C I want a Collector Badge. (empty for now) 0x0000026D I want a Cleaner Badge. 0x0000026E I want a Planet Picasso Badge. (empty for now) 0x0000026F I want a Diety Complex Badge. 0x00000270 Nothing for now.

also "diety"

also theres a LOT of insults in here so here they all are. seems like these are all responses. curiously one of them here refers to the "gRob"! so that WAS the actual capitalization at the time??

theres no equivalent space diplomacy file with the main packages, that assigns where each line would have been used in what context, so we dont know what this is about

regarding the grob, theres no mention of grox in the locale file, but there are other mentions of grob. i think the cc demo build might have been around spring or february of 2008, so they only changed it to grox half a year before release? here its actually Grob though

0x00000007 Grob says 'Hello'.

0x00000019 Grob says 'Hello'… again.

0x0000004D Grob doesn't like wasting CPU cycles. Input:_

but it kind of flipflops

0x000000A5 I've heard tell that there is a might race of creatures that lives at the center of the galaxy. Fear them or love them, but keep 'em away from me. ~br~ ~br~ Keep an eye out for the gRob. 0x000000A6 Hmmm… Ok. 0x000000A7 We are very busy kicking these savages off our planet. ~br~ ~br~ Let's talk later. 0x000000A8 Oh…OK. 0x000000A9 We are traumatized by the recent Grob raid. Let us breathe. ~br~ ~br~ Let's talk later.

also they repeat "… and your species is so ugly, even the gRob has pity for it." like four times

anyway. as for other dialogue, this seems to have been unchanged, besides the hash being changed to 0x00000023 (none of the hashes match with final) and using ~p~ instead of ~br~ for line breaks

0x00000010 Ahh, my friend! I was wondering where that devilishly handsome galactic hero had gone off to. Have you lost weight? Are you working out? You look fabulous. Supple. ~br~ You should come by more often. The ~race_homeworld~oids make a great stir-fry. We'll have you over sometime!

final

0x00000023 Ahh, my friend! I was wondering where that devilishly handsome galactic hero had gone off to. Have you lost weight? Are you working out? You look fabulous. Supple.~p~You should come by more often. The ~race_homeworld~oids make a great stir-fry. We'll have you over sometime!

also theres more insults in the middle of the file, the best one is "You're ugly and your mother dresses you funny!". theres a line that IS in final here still , so you can sort of gather the context from here

(why was spore meaner like half a year before release?)

not what the sporepedia is?

0x00000170 The Sporepedia can be found in your HUD.~p~ It provides you with a quick, visual summary of all you've seen and done, including all missions and badges you've earned along the way.

other scattered observations

0x00000018 PLACEHOLDER: To Teaching Missions Menu…

0x00000025 [So… diplomacy…]

0x000000A3 Throughout time the true meaning of life has eluded Oogies, Moozillas and even Will Wright himself. You, valiant traveler have the rare opportunity to seek out the meaning of life in your galaxy. Just what do you think about that?

0x00000141 'Significant portion'!? That's not helping matters!

(the screenshot seems like its from the intro tutorial)

[theofficersacademy]

The Ethereal Moon comes and goes, and soon all of Fódlan is plunged into the snowy depths of winter. The days are the shortest they'll be all year, and the nights are long and cold, but life goes on.

With the events in Burrowhaven finally winding down, the Church finds their opportunity to send an ambassador for negotiations with the villagers. After all, if they've learned anything from these past two months, Burrowhaven's resources are invaluable. However, a well-spoken, middle-aged woman calling herself "Nye" crashes the discussion to offer a completely new proposal in an effort to save her home from exploitation. She's a disgraced member of the nobility, she says, although she refuses to reveal her true name or lineage, and so she knows of an elite community up in the northwestern territories along Rhodos Coast: a place called Pearl Shoals. The Church is familiar with this place, too, of course. It's home to some of their biggest donors. What they don't know, says Nye, is that someone there is housing an ancient relic far too dangerous for the Church to ignore.

Faculty and Staff Mission: Investigate Pearl Shoals!

Nye's information comes with a price: give up negotiations for Burrowhaven's magical worms. The Church agrees to put their discussions on hold for the time being, until an investigation into the Pearl Shoals community can yield proof of whether or not this ancient relic even exists. Fortunately, this mission comes at a good time. Being a beachside town, many of its residents don't stay here year-round. Especially not in the frigid winter months when the damp, seaside breeze can chill you to your core. There shouldn't be as many people to question your presence, so long as you don't do anything to call too much attention to yourself.

But first, there's the matter of even getting in at all...

Faculty and Staff Mission Task Board

Hresvelg. Blaiddyd. Riegan. By now, you know these names whether you're a local or not. But Fódlan's political landscape is far more complex than attending school with its up-and-coming monarchs would suggest. These old houses have trees spanning families by the dozens, many of whom still maintain some prestige and influence despite not descending from the main lines. A few such names are rumored to have villas out here in the bluffs along the Rhodos Coast: Lord Bartels, former head of House Bartels, has an estate fallen into disrepair, there's a cousin twice removed from the Hevring family that supposedly holds the invitations to the community of Pearl Shoals, and a severe matriarch who'd married into the Gloucester family through the aging uncle of the house's current head, to name a few. If you're going to have any luck with reconnaissance once you get in, maybe hit up the library, talk to your noble classmates, or tap into some underground information networks first. Perhaps you ought to find some expensive new clothes to wear, too.

The community of Pearl Shoals is located along the scenic Rhodos coast, which falls under special protection from the church for two reasons: a cemetery of great importance is located here, and the community of Pearl Shoals is the Church of Seiros' greatest donor. As such, this walled off beachside village enjoys nearly unlimited freedom and autonomy. The church needs the money to run its academy, so officials gladly turn their eyes away from whatever happens on the other side of the tall, fortress walls of Pearl Shoals, whether that be dishonest business practices or even experimenting on live subjects. As such, it would cause irreparable damage to the relationship between the Central Church and Pearl Shoals if anyone from the academy were to be caught spying on the community. Whether you schmooze your way in, find a job as a housecleaner, or scale the wall under the cover of darkness, just don't get caught.

You can't expect the rich and wealthy to wash their own floors, dress themselves, or cook their own food. A community of the elite, therefore, is only 1/4 "elite" and 3/4 "common service workers." With the heavy death toll of the recent war, there's plenty of open space for new tailors, chefs, maids, butlers, entertainers, stablehands, and other servants. Whether you're a commoner who has no hope of passing for fancy nobility, or the heir to a noble house wishing to disguise yourself for a glimpse of how the other half lives, there's bound to be a place for your talents here. That's right: find a minimum wage job. Just keep in mind that you're not actually here for the pay. Get in good with your older coworkers and they just might have some gossip to share with you about Desmond Blaiddyd's new mistress, or the fact that the Lady Gloucester had been an orphan who'd married old Sergio just to kill him. Three times, in fact, and failed each time. The more you win the servants' trust, the closer you might get to finding that dangerous artifact Nye had informed you of back in Burrowhaven. [Grants Any Skill +1]

Did you think hedge mazes filled with aggressive dogs was just a cliche? Turns out that the members of Pearl Shoals don't mind cliches all that much. Somehow, trespasser or not, you've found yourself in the biggest garden of them all: that of one Madame Adelia Duval, infamous for her rigorous and dubiously ethical dog breeding. Try to find your way out without calling attention to yourself, or maybe, if you're really crazy, you're here specifically for these horrific dogs. And maybe, just maybe, there's something to those strange rumors about a cellar full of human experiments hidden on her property. [Grants Riding +1]

Main Street isn't quite as bustling as it would be during the summer months, but that also means there are less eyes on you if you decide to do a little sightseeing. Here, you can observe the elite in their natural environment: sharing tea and gossip in the warmth of a cozy cafe, going to fittings for gowns and suits that must outdo their competitors at the upcoming gala, depositing charitable proceeds into their own personal treasuries, and-- hold on, they're stealing? As it turns out, some (read: almost all) members of Pearl Shoals haven't acquired wealth the good and honest way. And what's more: everyone seems to know that everyone else is lining their own pockets, they just turn a blind eye to it. In order to maintain your cover, you'll have to hide your disgust over this fact. This isn't your mission, after all. But can you restrain your heart from yearning for vigilante justice? Or maybe you have to convince your moral-bound friends from causing a scene. Whatever the case, you have to play it cool. [Grants Faith +1]

Non-Mission Task Board

The month after the Ethereal Moon is often reputed as the most romantic of all the months, so many plan weddings under the belief that their union will be blessed with longevity and good fortune by the goddess herself. A high profile wedding between a young Miss Saoirse Elidure and a mysterious Yuliy of Kupala, supposedly a long-lost Almyran prince, is set to be held this month and the bride and groom are in desperate need of bodyguards. They're reluctant to give up specific details, but both of them believe that someone, perhaps many people will object to their union and come to crash it. Violently. [Grants Sword +1]

Viscount Menja has a great number of employees, but there are only so many hands to go around tidying up the mess left behind by storm and party alike. After generous contribution, the Count requests cleanup help from the monastery. For some, this might just be a way to get in good with Fauntleroy, who will be hanging around at home for a while longer to savor his birthday celebration. For others, cleaning up a beach is preferable to sitting in a stuffy classroom, or going back to work.

A very old book has come back into style. "Regarding Knights and Chivalry" is its title, penned by a so-called Knight of Faerghus nobody has heard of, and its foreword claims to offer a comprehensive guide to knightly conduct... except its teachings are utterly bizarre. When it isn't making readers act like absolute fools, it's dooming them to failure on the battlefield with its absolutely impractical and ridiculous advice. And yet it's spread like wildfire among the public again, toted as the secret key to winning love. Are you falling for the silly fad, or are you trying to help kill it? [Grants Lance +1]

Sent off on duty into town to check off the academy's growing shopping list, you find yourself trapped between a clingy lover and a hard place. This clingy lover has been looking everywhere for you. Yes! You! And, well, they also happen to have an eye on your friend, too. Go on a shopping trip, but make sure you appease the lover-you-never-asked for, or else they'll make your life a living hell.

"Perpetual stew." You hear the term tossed around a lot lately, and eventually you find it: a stew that never stops cooking, never stops having new ingredients added to it. Ever. Days, years, months - the longer, the tastier, as the denizens claim. When you ask how long this batch has been cooking, the old woman tending it simply grins at you, then the gigantic pot she's standing over, before finally replying, "Taste it and find out." Do you dare?

Frequently Asked Questions

How does the divided task board work?

This season’s mission is assigned to the Unaffiliated Muses. Therefore, tasks from the ‘Faculty and Staff Mission Task Board’ must be undertaken by someone that is affiliated with the Church of Seiros, the Knights of Seiros, the Town of Garreg Mach, the Underground Citizens, the Ashen Wolves, or Those Who Slither in the Dark. However, they may choose to perform the task with someone who is not from their group as well. In logistical terms, this means that if you play a non-Unaffiliated muse and want to do a mission task, you must ask someone who plays an Unaffiliated muse to thread with you. All thread participants will still receive any skill point rewards. Tasks from the ‘Non-Mission Task Board’ have no house restriction and can be undertaken by anyone.

These aren’t the only threads I can do, right?

Of course not! These are just prompts to help give some ideas of possibilities. You’re always free and encouraged to make up your own threads.

If my muse is not an Unaffiliated muse, can I still write an open starter for the mission tasks?

Yes, but only the non-mission tasks. Your character must be Unaffiliated to write an open starter for this season’s mission.

How do I claim the skill points?

In order to qualify for the skill point, the thread must clearly allude to the listed task and preferably feature the task being completed. You do not need to message the masterlist to claim your skill point.

Can I only do one task?

Nope, you can do as many as you’d like with as many different partners as you’d like! You can do the same task with more than one person! However, you can only claim any skill point once.

What if my partner leaves or drops a skill point thread?

If the dropped thread has at least 2 reblogs and you have hit at least 400 words on your end, you may still claim the skill point.

Remember to use (and track!) the #toa open tag for any open threads, and you can also post a link to your open thread on the appropriate Discord channel! If you have any other questions or concerns, shoot us a message through the masterlist or on Discord!

- The House Leaders

[obsidianpen]

the fact that harry canonically is smart and magically powerful makes my mood improve several times a day, but i don’t get the overwhelming tendency to dumb him down in fanfiction, especially when paired with tom/voldemort. and when i say canonically, i really do mean that it’s written black on white in the books: his grades, which are a bit higher than even an average student, considering how little time harry actually spends studying; his brilliant memory, almost to the point of making me wonder whether it can be classified as eidetic (he remembers spells and wand movements he’s seen maybe once or twice before perfectly, not to mention remembering a spell hermione cast a whole year prior and successfully casting it himself on the first try; remembering specific placements of objects or random things he’s read in passing); continuing on from the previous examples, his ability to cast correctly and successfully a wide range of spells, some being quite advanced, on his first few tries; his ability to plan, strategise and then lead people into said course of action.

obviously, he is hotheaded and impulsive and stubborn and self doubting to a fault, distrustful in his own abilities when it costs him the most, but that doesn’t negate at all his intellect and magical proficiency. he’s not dumb, he’s not just interested in quidditch and he definitely isn’t a goody two shoes, who would tremble at the thought of manipulating, lying or using dark magic to get his own way, as long as the end goal aligns with his ideals.

i’m not referencing any of your specific work here, this is not the point of this ramble, rather i wanted to bring forth something i’ve noticed happening quite a lot and wondering what your opinion is, as a fanfic writer yourself?

i just feel like there is no need to sacrifice one character for the sake of another — in this case, building tom/voldemort’s character at the expense of harry. he doesn’t have to be stripped down of all the things that make him compelling and complex just so voldemort can seem grander on page. we already know he is intimidating and powerful and captivating. he already demands the attention of the reader when making an appearance.

but two characters can be as equally complex and intricately built, and still coexist on the same page. that’s the baseline of their great chemistry, i think: how well they bounce off of each other without even trying too hard.

well, I can’t really speak to whether or not this happens all the time with harrymort or not, as I don’t read a ton of fics, so I’m taking your word on that being true. And I don’t know if I put Harry on quite as high of a pedestal as you do - I do think he is above average in a lot of things and exceptional in a few, but I also think he’s relatively average in many respects, which is why I like him. All that being said, I’d guess it has to do with a few things.

first I’d say it’s that a lot of people like to write extremes, esp when it comes to villain/hero type pairings. They like Voldemort seeming extra big and bad and strong, and so yeah, they make Harry smaller and weaker in comparison. Maybe some do it in reasonable ways, and others do it in a, Harry’s a 5’0” omega male in heat or wtf ever (no shame there if that’s your thing!). It’s fun to write and really does something for a lot of people. I’d imagine this happens with all sorts of pairings.

I’d guess another reason is that, if you have been reading fanfiction for a long time and you come across this weaker/smaller/etc version of Harry a lot, you might start to forget what he was like in canon, and you’re being influenced by the content you are taking in and therefore writing Harry like this, too. Happens all the time in fandom.

lastly, I think this may happen because it’s a lot easier - and therefore fun - (imo ofc) to write extremes than it is to write two characters who are closer together, across the board. There’s a lot more nuance when the couple is much more evenly matched. It’s hard. It’s hard! So much simpler to figure out what’s going to happen next when the power dynamic is 10/90 instead of 50/50. A game of chess with a master versus a novice is over fast; a game with two evenly matched players who like to sit and stare at each other binge analytical can go on a looooong time!

[theflashjaygarrick]

One thing I keep thinking about is because superhero comics are simultaneously niche and cultural icons, the general public understanding of characters can be starkly different to the actual medium. Often this is harmless fun but it can be a problem considering arcs about female and minority characters often suffer in the realm of reprints and adaptations, and therefore never have the same impact on the public consciousness. And I think this explains the erasure of Oracle.

Yes, Killing Joke was misogynistic as hell and as a massive Barbara fan I have serious issues with it. But then what Kim Yale and John Ostrander did with Oracle in year one was moving, beautiful and undeniably feminist. I'm not disabled but I got serious chills reading the story and it is honestly one of my favourite comics. From there she grew to become a staple in the DC universe and helped launch the wildly successful Birds of Prey superhero team.

And she was a disabled hero who was psychologically complex and kickass in a fight. She also was seen as an attractive woman who had love interests like Dick Grayson. She got to train the next generation of Batgirls. As Oracle Babs thrived.

Not to mention according to Scott Peterson's article on DC women kicking ass, the creative team at the time were seeing an overwhelming positive response to Oracle from people who saw themselves on the pages of a superhero comic for the first time thanks to Babs:

"we were the ones getting the mail from disabled fans. We were the ones reading letters about how much Oracle meant to them, how much it meant to see someone in a situation so much like their own, someone who by then had been come such an important part of the DCU, treated with respect and admiration by not only Superman and Black Canary, but by the Batman, a guy who treated pretty much no one with respect." (Scott Peterson, 2011)

But if you look at the mainstream perception, her success is less obvious.

Batgirl has always struggled in adaptations, and Oracle even more so. The versions of Oracle that have been translated onto film and TV haven't caught in public imagination in the same way, to the point she was straight up cut out of the recent Birds of Prey film.

Not to mention Killing Joke is one of the most iconic Batman stories of all time that not only has been reprinted countless times but was one of the select few comic arcs to be adapted into animation. Contrarily, Oracle Year One was reprinted in English once after the original date: the Batgirl 50 years celebration. This collection is expensive and not something you would buy without considerable investment in the Batgirls. It certainly isn't one that would show up if you google 'best batman comics'.

If you see this you understand why people marginally invested in DC mythos considered her return to batgirl was seen by some as a feminist move, rather than an ableist one. Gone were her years of development, one of the most powerful information brokers in DC, and two other beloved Batgirls. And the real insult: killing joke was still canon. Yes, they kept the misogynistic violence and ditched the disability rep and the character growth. And that is despite the fact Killing Joke was made to be part of an else world, not main continuity.