~help your local rat get stable housing~
edit post nov 2023: I GOT THE HELP I NEEDED THANK YOU SOSOOSO MUCH
dramatically sprawled out on the floor
so i gotta move for the third time in that many years. unfortunately between health problems and the General State of The Economy, I have been unable to find work to be able to save any money. i have no choice but to leave the entire state. i thankfully have somewhere to go, however I need help getting there. i've been trying to do the math to get what I need to its lowest amount possible, but even that is still at least $2.5k.
after this move, i should be able to get things more stable and I might even have a couple job prospects lined up in that area, but right now I'm really scraping the bottom of the barrel funds wise and desperately need help.
if you're able to spare anything, i've set up a goal through kofi so i can track it publicly. i have trouble asking for help but i really need what help i can get. thank you, so so so much.
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Fox tags along on a smuggling bust one (1) time and subsequently wishes he’d never been decanted.
Well, he’s arrested the perp a lot more than just one time, actually, but that very first tackle into a chokehold and electrocuffs more than sufficed to turn the fates against him - the fates, and Cody, the insufferable twat. They’re not actually even batchmates, the lot of them, and going by numbers Fox was decanted long before them (long as in seconds or minutes, no one actually knows), but Seventeen put them all in a training room together and then stupid kriffing Kote looked him up and down, nodded, and hasn’t stopped calling him vod’ika since.
“Why is one of the Republic’s most wanted criminals asking to speak to you, vod’ika?”, Cody asks, without any preamble, almost making Fox cut the holocall on principle. He would, if General Kenobi wasn’t right there next to the little shit. “And why do I not like his tone?”
Fox has to resist the urge to close his eyes and scream, making do with a deep sigh instead. Force curse the day Cody decided to adopt-nap him, and Wolffe following suit immediately. “Weequay, shifty eyes, stupid fucking pirate bandana?”
Cody’s eyes narrow suspiciously, and Kenobi’s eyebrows raise simultaneously. It’s more than a little creepy.
Fox rolls his eyes so hard he sees stars. “Tell him he can go space himself, unless he wants me to do it for him. And then tell him that if he sends me fuzzy fucking socks again I might just hunt him down and do it anyways.”
Past the slide of the door, Thorn’s unmistakable cackle reaches Fox. And Cody, going by the narrowing of his eyes. “Don’t tell him that, ori’vod, he’s probably into that”, Thorn calls out, gleefully, and Force Fox really should’ve kept this to himself in the first place.
He would’ve, actually, but the constant stream of strange presents into Guard headquarters is hard to miss. It was Alderaanian chocolates, last week, which Fox pawned off on the Shinies. A box from a store with a blacked out label before that, which he launched out the window with burning ears before Thire could get a closer look at it.
“Actually”, Thorn continues, happily, “I don’t think it matters much if you do tell him anything - it’s not like the Commander has been the most graceful courtée, and that hasn’t done anything to discourage our favorite smuggler.”
“Marshall Commander”, Fox hisses, because he’s a pissy bitch, and then, because all professionalism has gone out the window anyways, “This is why Stone is my favourite.”
Thorn’s wounded gasp is lost over Kenobi’s thoughtful hum, and Cody’s patented I’m-going-to-do-something-incredibly-stupid-and-you-can’t-stop-me glare. “That would explain why we have Hondo Ohnaka accosting our troopers about your flavour preferences concerning fruit candies. But the one asking to speak to you is Cad Bane, Marshall Commander.”
The string of curses Fox lets out at that is loud enough to have Mauler stick his head in the com room to ask if everything is alright, and Thorn roll on the floor with howling laughter.
Force curse the day he ever slapped electrocuffs on Hondo Ohnaka, and double-curse the one he threw Cad Bane to the floor with a scissor leg takedown.
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So context: I have Ridiculously severe misophonia. If I could painlessly deafen myself I would, "all noise is evil" levels of noise sensitivity. It's too the point I can't tolerate being around other people because the sound of breathing swallowing lip smacking etc drive me up the wall and turn me into the joker in .1 seconds.
and it's not like, it's not a "I don't like this" type of misophonia, it's a "these sounds are physically extremely painful as is any volume above the absolute lowest amount possible (I have returned multiple pairs of earbuds for having their minimum setting still be painfully loud)
Ok, that's just my life. those are the cards I've been dealt and I've been making it work.
My shrink recommended concert earbuds. They're like normal wireless earbuds but instead of being electric, they have a small tube and a hole in them that effectively changes the shape of your ear canel when you're wearing them. So they filter noise without reducing volume or quality too badly.
It is fucking Night and day. Volume is still a problem but all the little sounds that were driving me insane and making me be constantly overstimulated are just gone. I can talk to people without immediately wanting to end the conversation. and be in the same room as my fishtank without the filter sounds chasing me off.
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