#consider the source

[edupunkn00b]

Dear Pissy,

Janus and Patton work to convince Remus and Roman to apologize for a litany of wrongs against each other. Maybe they shouldn't've.

Written for @deadskeletallemons for @tss-camp-and-coffee's Camp Cartoon writing event. Prompt: Remus and Roman apologize to each other. Rated T - WC: 2951 - CW: swearing, a bit of gross imagery - My other Camp stories

Dear Pissy,

Laying in his birthday suit on the floor beneath his bed, Remus crossed out the greeting, extra sharp nib tearing the page. He scowled down the letter in front of him, Jannie’s ‘I’m-can’t-make-you-write-it-but-I-can-not-talk-to-you-until-you-do’ little smirk branded into his grey matter.

Mmmm. He could still smell the sizzle.

Pondering, he nibbled the end of his pen, the supposedly indestructible ABS plastic crunchy between his teeth. He twirled his hair, tangling the—boo—merely metaphorical rat’s nest around his knuckles until his fingertips went numb.

He would’ve kicked his feet if he’d had enough room under his bed. Sure, he could’ve made enough room but it was much more fun to be squashed beneath the musty box spring, with a loose nail poking his back, dust bunnies in his mustache, and luscious little creepy crawlies getting all up in his business as he penned an official apology letter to his brother.

Finally, he re-wrote his original greeting. Sometimes the first draft really was the best draft.

Dear Pissy, Jannie’s told me to ‘think about what I’ve done’ and believe me, dear Brother, I’ve been thinking about it. And thinking about it. And THINKING ABOUT IT. And I think I could’ve done better. In fact, I KNOW I could’ve done better when I knocked you in the back of the head with Lucie and I WILL do better in the future. All my love, Dukey P.S. You do know a Duke is a Prince who can get laid every night, right? P.P.S. Did you get the anvil in your bed yet? I made it just for you.

~

Ro Bro’s screech pierced the muffled silence of the Mindscape and Remus poked his head out from the back of his closet, grinning. He covered the mushrooms growing out of Virge’s old converse with a damp cloth and listened.

“Kiddo?” Patton’s sickly sweet voice called down from the kitchen and Ro stomped out of his room and down the stairs. Slipping out from his room, Remus closed the door behind him carefully—a shame, really. When he slammed it just right it knocked the gold nameplate right off his princely little door.

There was still a nasty scratch in the ruby red paint Remus was pretty sure he hadn’t noticed yet.

Creeping quietly, Remus took large steps on his tip-toes, just in case Virge or Lo Lo happened to peek out their rooms. There are no small parts, only small actors. Well, Remus supposed some parts could be small, but no part of him was.

He slipped down a few steps, just far enough to peer down at the table through the banister.

Ro slouched in his chair, facing the kitchen—and the stairwell. He glanced at the bottom landing as he spoke, like he was watching for one of the others to join them. Wherever the rest of the famILY was, they weren’t showing up to watch his performance.

“I’ve had it, Padre!” he snapped, arms crossed over his chest, flexing to try to make his shoulders look bigger. He stared down at the big red mug filled to the brim with hot chocolate in front of him and blew at the steam, morphing the swirls into roses and hearts.

Chuckling to himself, Remus blew a kiss down to the cup, changing the hearts into a red-eyed dragon ready to gobble up the roses.

Ro was too busy fuming to notice. “He’s really crossed the line this time and I—”

“Walk me through again what happened, Kiddo,” Pattycake said, pulling out the chair next to him and scootching in close. His own mug of hot chocolate cradled in one hand, he brushed back a lock of Ro’s hair from his eyes.

“We have marshmallows?” Roman asked, eyeing the fluffy layer melting into the top of Patton’s drink.

Pattycake giggled as he stretched to grab the half-empty bag from the counter. “Can’t you just make them?”

“Well, yes, of course I can, but…” His pouty little frown softened as he watched Pattycake place them one-by-one in the shape of a heart on top of his hot cocoa. “It’s nicer this way.”

Too caught up pampering the prince, Patton didn’t even notice when Ro refilled the marshmallows with a little flick of his hand.

Neither of them noticed when Remus summoned a handful for himself.

When Pattycake was done decorating the top of Ro’s mug, he sat back again with his own, eyebrow raised expectantly.

“Oh, right,” he muttered and took a sip of his drink. “I told you about the bottle of slime in my shower four days ago?” Pattycake hummed, nodding. “And the anvil he dropped on my bed last night?”

And Ro still hadn’t given either of them back. That was some of Remus’ best slime yet, pouring freely from the bottle but sticky as all hell once it hit the air.

“Yes, you did,” Patton was saying in that ‘now, Kiddo’ voice. “I also heard from Janus about the kraken trap you built in the Imagination—“

Hand pressed to his heart, Roman scoffed. “I was merely protecting my Kingdom!”

“From Lassie?”

“He named it?” Roman’s mouth fell open. “That monster tried to eat a legion of my soldiers! It—”

Monster? Remus leapt to his feet, freezing when Pattycake continued.

“Her,” he corrected, taking another sip of his cocoa. “And Janus has told me she’s very friendly,” he said. “When you’re not trying to kill her in her own seas, that is.”

Ro’s scowl returned, no doubt still butt hurt Lassie had gotten free so easily. Build a better mousetrap, I’ll just build a better eldritch horror.

“And,” Pattycake continued, avoiding Ro's eyes and tapping the sides of his mug the way Jannie did when he was scheming. How much time were those two spending together, anyway? “I also heard about how you were the one who’d convinced Thomas he didn’t need to call Remus last week." He finally looked up, eyebrows high in a gotcha expression. "When he was struggling with his new song?”

Chewing on his mustache, Remus pressed closer to the banister. Virge had insisted his exclusion had all been Pattycake’s idea, pulling the strings behind the scenes Jannie-style. But Remus knew. He could feel it. The pull of creativity in action, the heavy steel gate slamming shut when he tried to rise up to join them. The creative bailey Ro had erected around them as he and Thomas worked together. Without him.

“Well… that was—” Ro shifted in his chair, caught. “That was only because—Well—” Finally, he looked up at met Pattycake’s eyes. “I—Ugh,” he sighed, shoulders slumping as he curled around his cup like Remus was gonna fly down there and swipe it right out from under him. “You’re not really going to be mad about a little… brotherly rivalry, are you?”

‘Brotherly rivalry’ my juicy as—

Sitting back, Patton adjusting his glasses, looking more like Logan—or Thomas’ real life dad—than Remus really wanted to see right now. “Now, Kiddo, I’m not mad—“

“Just disappointed,” Patton finished.

“Don’t say it—“

Say it, Pattycake!

Oof.

“You know that’s worse, right?” Roman didn’t look up from his mug. Wait, were those… were those tears in his eyes?

Well fuck, that wasn’t fair. Ro Bro wasn’t supposed to cry about it. He was supposed to storm off and put up bigger gates around his castle or pour soap into Remus' slime wash or—

“And you know better than this,” Pattycake continued, one big hand resting on his shoulder as he hummed in thought. Ro just sat there, turning his cup one way, then the other. “Now, Kiddo,” Pattycake spoke slowly, like he was waiting him out.

Remus watched from his hiding spot, guts twisting like the time he’d gotten caught up in the clock tower gears at the top of Ro’s castle.

Pattycake’s voice was syrupy sweet. “I’m not going to try to make you, but I really would like it if you figured out how to apologize.”

Ro sat up straight. “But what about—“

“No ‘whattabouts,’” Pattycake said as he pushed back from his seat.

Ro slumped down again. Still crouched near the top of the staircase, Remus tucked his knees up close, ready to sink out if Pattycake started toward the stairs.

“Two wrongs don’t make a right, mister,” he said, his tone scolding despite the guilty little crimp in his brow and the faltering smile Ro wouldn’t look up to see. “Deep down you know apologizing is the right thing to do,” Pattycake said, taking his cup to the sink. “The princely thing to do.”

“Yeah—yes, Padre,” Ro cleared his throat. “Yes, of course you’re right.” He picked up his mug but put it back down before finishing it. “I will… talk to him.”

“There you go, Kiddo!” Pattycake cheered, patting his back as he headed down the hall. “I knew you had it—“

Remus sank back into his own room before Pattycake finished his sentence.

~

Back in his room, Remus, turned off all the lights and opened up the big iron cabinet in the far corner. Rusty hinges squealed, scrubbing away some of the itchy pinpricks crawling up and down his limbs. Ro wasn’t supposed to go complain to Pattycake! He was supposed to retaliate, throw the anvil back, set the dragon loose on his villages, sneak in his room and steal something good from his treasure chest.

Bending down, he inspected the radioactive lock protecting the hidden compartment then got up, kicking it in disgust. Ro hadn’t even tried to open it.

The game wasn’t fun when he was the only one playing it.

Maybe he just had to up the ante a bit, shove his chips into the center of the pile and just go all in.

Remus was only half-way through building his first stink bomb when he was interrupted by a knock at his door. He froze, listening. After a few moments, it came again, three short knocks. Too strong for Pattycake offering worms in a cup—with real worms eating up the Oreo crumbs! Too tentative to be Lo Lo. And he always knocked four times, just one more Doctor Who reference to add to his list of Fantastic and Spoilers! and Are you my mummy?

Virge wouldn’t be caught dead in his room and Jannie wouldn’t bother to knock.

“Well come on in, Ro Bro,” Remus called, stopping the timer and throwing a moldy blanket over the bomb. “If you dare…” He grinned when Ro opened the door, gleaming katana pushing it open all the way before peering around the corner. “Ha!” Remus crowed. “Who says you’re too much of a himbo to learn!”

Still wielding his sword, Ro tapped the switch by the door, casting the room in a flickering fluorescent light. Something scurried under his bed and Ro took one tentative step inside. “Mi casa es mi casa, Pissy!” Remus cheered, belly flopping onto his bed. A cloud of greyish-green dust billowed up, choking him. “Have”—he said, patting the bed next to him between coughs—“a seat!”

“No… thank you,” Ro said, eyeing the shifting pattern on his comforter.

“Eh, don’t worry about it!” Remus tugged at it, only one friendly critter coming away on his hand. “It’s mostly just printed on.”

Ro’s lip curled up but he looked away, plastering his features with a stoic near-smile that matched the big-ass oil painting he had up in his Imagination throne room. “I prefer to stand,” he said. He looked around the room one more time before turning to the door. “May I?” he asked, nudging the door with the hilt of his katana.

“Oooh, you wanna get personal?” Remus asked, waggling his eyebrows. “Go ahead.”

Ro barely reacted. “Don’t be disgusting,” he muttered, pushing the door closed and sheathing his sword. He stood, hands folded in front of him, stone still except for a twitch in his jaw.

“Sooo…” Remus began, flipping over onto his back and letting his head hang off the edge of the bed. He summoned Lucie and threw her up in the air, catching her by the spikes when she came back down. “Didja just come here to play statues like the good ol’ days?”

“No,” Roman snapped. “You always cheated, anyway.”

“Hey, licking a statue’s face isn’t the worst thing people do,” he shrugged. “I was just adding a bit of realism to the game.”

“Realism? You call—“ Ro drew in a slow breath and crossed his arms, jaw clenched tight. “No. No, I did not come here to argue with you or to get licked by you or…” He eyed Casper as she wiggled her way past the mesh top on her terrarium. “Or bitten by who knows what creation you’ve got living in here. I came—“

Remus cackled but Ro acted like he didn’t hear him.

“To apologize.”

“You what?” Remus sat up, waving vaguely at Casper to shove her back under the screen. He stared slack-jawed at his brother.

Arms still crossed—no, hugging himself, Ro avoided his gaze. “I ca—I am here to apologize,” he said through gritted teeth. “I blocked you from Thomas’ summons and then told him you didn’t want to help with our latest song,” he said, every word a battle. “I…” Lips pursed, his eyes darted toward him then moved away just as quickly. “I behaved unseemly for a prince and…” He inhaled, slowly, then met his gaze.

Ro’s eyes were red-rimmed and wet. “I apologize.”

Remus stared, slowly rising from his bed. Ro held his gaze, feet rooted to the spot. His hand twitched toward his sword but he didn’t draw it.

“This isn’t a trick,” he said, walking around him, waiting for a feint, an attack, an anything. Remus poked his shoulder, long pointy nail leaving behind a greenish smear on his pristine white tunic.

Ro barely moved. “No, Remus. It’s not a trick.”

“But I dropped an anvil on your head,” he said, hands on his hips.

“Yes, and it hurt.”

“And I replaced your frou-frou strawberry shampoo with Goo-On.”

“Yes,” he said, voice tight. “And it took three hours and a dragon quest spell from the Imagination to get it all out.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. He passed Lucie from hand to hand, waiting for the attack he was sure would come.

But Ro just stood there. After several minutes, he sighed. “Will you do me the honor of accepting my apology or should I just go?”

“Fuck that noise,” Remus muttered. “What’s gotten into you, Pissy?” he prodded his shoulder with Lucie’s dull end. “This isn’t what we do. I hit you, you hit me,” he said, voice rising. “I take, you take back, then we battle it out. You don’t just… apologize.”

“Patton is right,” he said, cheek hollowing out as he clamped down on it with his own teeth. “I need to rise above—“

“You take that back!” Remus growled, Lucie held high over his head. “Patton doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about! You’re no better than me and you sure as fuck don’t get out of this by apologizing.” he spat. “Fight back or I’ll—“

Ro hung his head. “I know I’m not better than you, I—“

“You what?” Remus leaned in close, searching for one of Jannie’s tells. Usually he could just smell him, the lingering taste of his nasty bergamot tea wafting off of him. “Say that again,” he ordered, brandishing Lucie just below his brother's heroic dimpled chin.

“I know I’m not better than you, Re.”

Remus waited for Jannie’s smug laughter, or his startled stumble at being summoned by what the teller thought was a lie.

But it was just them in the room.

“You mean that,” Remus said more than asked. “What the actual fuck, Ro? You mean that.”

“Of course I mean it,” he muttered, head still hung low.

“You didn’t used to,” Remus said, slowly letting Lucie hang down at his side. “You used to—“

“I know,” Ro huffed. “I… I know.”

The buzzy whine of the overhead lights and the skitters from under his bed filled the silence between them. Remus tapped Lucie against the floor, splinters and loose carpet clinging to her spikes. “Well, I… I don’t accept,” he said, lifting Lucie up over his shoulder in a half-hearted wrath stance. “Fight me.”

“But we need to start working together,” Ro insisted. “It’s… it’s the right thing to do.”

Again, he waited for the little glimmer of Jannie’s arrival. Casper slid two antennae out over the top of her terrarium, watching. “'Work together?'” he asked, his grip on Lucie wavering.

“Yes,” Ro nodded. “Like we used to.”

“Well now you’re talking, Ro Bro,” Remus grinned, throwing Lucie across the room. She disappeared just before she struck the window. No need to raise an alarm across the Mindscape. Not yet anyway.

He flung his arm over Ro’s shoulders and pulled him close. “How ‘bout we first work together on those two bossy pants who thought you were too good for a little wrestling in the mud with your own damn brother?”

“Re, I don’t—“

Remus' voice grew serious. “Just enough so they see there are consequences for making you cry.”

Ro turned away away, touching his face like he thought he’d missed a few tears. He looked back at Remus, eyes guarded.

Remus ruffled his hair with a grin. “C’mon, Ro Bro,” he said. “Don’t you wanna go just a little ape shit?”

Pondering, he stared off into the distance, his frown gradually curling up into an almost smile. Finally, he met Remus’ eyes with just a bit of that old twinkle. “What did you have in mind?”

[mafaldaknows]

Hello Anon:

Thanks for the hot tip but I have seen it already and have drawn my own conclusions regarding the matter, especially after considering the sources.

Always, always, always:

CONSIDER THE SOURCE.

I’ve chosen not to post your ask because the less attention placed on this person, the better.

If you recall, it was also around Christmas three years ago that this person’s “mentor” revealed herself.

I often wonder what would’ve happened had we simply amplified the truth this “mentor” told initially and ignored her outlandish claims, which she began spewing with a vengeance when she realized that she could attract far more notoriety and attention by changing her story to one much more salacious and destructive. Because haters love to hate.

As I’ve said before, the right thing to do when an actual crime has been committed is to file charges with the police and provide solid evidence of the crime, to support the claim with the proper authorities should one also seek to file a claim in court. Justice absolutely should be served but only if it’s warranted. And much more evidence than this is required.

Her protégé’s claim is vague, without specific evidence to support it, presented only to stir the pot of defamation once again.

The protégé is wearing a bathing suit and appears to be posing for the photo in question. She looks to have undergone a recent “cupping” treatment. It’s difficult to determine exactly what her grievance against the accused might be.

Regret is not a crime. Consent, or the denial thereof, is not retroactive. Objective facts are immutable. Vague implications are not facts.

And proclaiming a known delusional stalker and compulsive liar as her mentor serves only to discredit her claims.

Likewise, this “news” breaking from a source known to have a close relationship with the accused’s disgruntled aunt publicly feuding with the accused over the family fortune serves only to raise questions about the source’s credibility and motives.

Both the accuser and the person breaking the news are relying on people’s wild imaginations and need for titillation to fill in the blanks of the story the accuser is not actually telling.

Let’s not fall for that again.

Thanks for your comment.

[3garcons]

Consider The Source and TR3 at Lark Hall Mar 2025

early edition.

[vulturetownes]

Social Assassins setting up at Strangecreek - 2am Monday in the cabins.

[riggio037]

For all those folks who take kicks in the head from internet trolls. Remember where they come from. And always consider the source.

[killervelveteenrabbit]

The video itself is excellent, relying on verifiable primary sources. However, although I did some research on BreakThrough News and learned about their association with the Party for Socialism and Liberation. While I consider myself a socialist and would be inclined to support them, I wish PSL/Breakthrough News would be as loud about human rights abuses in China, Syria, and North Korea as they are about what's happening in Gaza.

Here is EVERY deal Hamas has tried to strike with Israel. It was never about the hostages.

[trustlife2day]

Happy festival season, y’all!

As always, watch out whose advice you take and remember to consider the source.

Be fun! Have safe!

[qupritsuvwix]

Well, that’s one way of kissing ass.

[mafaldaknows]

S L O W.

T HE F U C K.

D O W N.

R E S I S T L I Z A R D B R A I N!

NOTE TO SELF-SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!

[rofirspam]

I Can See My Eyes Consider The Source Album: The Stare

[slothmonth]

I agree that "in Germany your boss legally has to provide you with work while you're at your job" is a bit funny considering the German stereotype. But I am really annoyed at people who act like this is some horrible hypercapitalist thing on that post about pushing people out of their jobs by just not giving them anything to do. When really it's very basic worker protection (within the context of German emplyment law.) Because under most circumstances you can't just be fired from your job. Your employer has to provide a reason for firing you if they want to get rid of you. You also have a right to specifially the work you were hired to do.

So your boss having to give you appropriate work makes illegal any of the following:

a) Making you clean toilets instead of (or in addition to) the clearly defined office job you agreed to do

b) Not giving you work and then firing you for not doing your work

c) Waiting for you to crack under the intense boredom of having to stay on one place with absolutely nothing to do for eight hours a day while your coworkers are roped into it to shun you (or hate you because for some reason you're the only one who doesn't have to do any work) until you quit "voluntarily"

or d) waiting for you to crack under the aformentioned pressure until you do what the people in the notes said they'd do, like watching movies or doing a second job instead which is something you then can be reprimanded and fired for

[nightbynightfly]

An Album a Day 2024: Day 86

Mar. 26, 2024

Consider the Source - You Are Literally A Metaphor (2019)

Prog-rock, Experimental, Instrumental

[sarahthecoat]

exactly.

Hello, Mr. Gaiman!

As known from Ars Goetia, Shax is a Great Marquis of Hell, "with power over 30 legions of demons on evil horses", and Furfur is an Earl of Hell, ruler of 26 legions. But by 1941 they both are mere receptionists at the Admissions, although Shax retained her connections in the Council. Was there something that caused them to be demoted, or did they have no titles at all in this version of Hell?

Thank you!

Things like the Ars Goetia get written by credulous humans. If you were Furfur and you'd wound up talking to some humans, are you going to tell them you're working a desk with little opportunity for advancement, or that you're an Earl of Hell and ruler of 26 legions, and wishing that you'd also thrown in the evil horses?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

We're going on an ass kicking adventure.

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[s0urce--flow]

🌼🌑Wormtown Music Festival '23🌑🌼