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lactoseintolerentswag · 10 months ago

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Donnie Tech Part 1/?

After many moons here are the promised observations of the cartoon shtick logic of Donnie's weapons for season one!! Will link a season two and movie version Eventually, but keep in mind I can't explain in depth how each bit of tech works, rather that I can pinpoint the functions for the visual bit. Keep in mind that Donnie's tech can pretty much do any ridiculous thing you can put your mind to, and that it can also backfire in any ridiculous way you can put your mind to.

Tech Bo:

Collapsible, can become a shorter version of itself easily stored

Shoot a grappling hook AND function as a zip line

Can form a rocket from either end (usually at the same time, resulting in the bo spinning)

Is equipped to be a fire extinguisher

Can shoot out lasers

Has a button that activates the "Shopping Cart Protocol" to lock the Turtle Tank if it goes outside a set perimeter

Top can turn into a rocket powered fist

Turn into a giant drill

Turn into a saw

Turn into a tranquilizer

Turn into a tennis ball shooter

Turn into a selfie stick

Top can turn into a disco ball of "multidimensional reflective orb neutralizer"

Battle Shell:

Has rotary engines (think jet turbine or computer fan) that help him fly around. He calls them "rotors" for short

Can transform into a seat so April can sit on his back

Can split up into a DJ set up in "music mode"

Jet Pack Shell:

His fastest mode of transportation

Not much is shown, but April had a significant difficulty controlling it

Spider Shell:

Has four arms with three fingers

Arms can turn into saws

Has a seemingly endless toolkit inside that includes basic things like hammers and wrenches, but also blowtorches

Goggles:

Has night vision

Can function as binoculars

Is able to summon is tech ("communicates with microwave transceiver with class c encryption protocols")

Read mystic energy signatures after adding the crystal they found in Draxum's lab

Gauntlet:

Has an app that can tap into every security camera in NY

Bug Slapper:

Has a green Mad Dogs sticker on the side

Compacts itself into a metal suitcase and then expand back into a vehicle

So far only uses Big Mama's webbing material as projectiles

Shelldon:

Began as an automated smart lair designed with the intent as a cleaning assistant

Has a "disposal unit" which unlocks several of Donnie's weapons such as: guns, pinchers, drills, and flamethrowers

Can carry at least two turtles (Mikey and Donnie)

Is nicknamed "Cyber Bishop" by Donnie

Uses surfer dude slang: “dude”, “gnarly”, “buzzkill”, “okey dokey”, “dawg”, “you beefed it”, “brohounds"

As a smart lair has clear favoritism towards Donnie until tampered with. As a drone they share more of a familial or pet like relationship, and Shelldon has room to sometimes poke at Donnie's faults as well

In conclusion there's not much to worry about breaking canon, the physics of our reality, or understanding complicated tech and science to write about Donnie's tech. He can do whatever he wants as long as it's silly, overly dramatic, and includes an unnecessary amount of purple guns. His tech bo is especially flexible with breaking the rules even before we get to his ninpo powers.

I'm keeping the Turtle Tank separate, because it also deserves its own post. Happy writing!

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #save rise of the tmnt #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #analysis #critter talks

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vexwerewolf · 1 year ago

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Tell us about one of your favorite Lancer mechs you've piloted

(art by @deeganart)

-- IPS-N Tortuga @ LL12 -- [ LICENSES ] HORUS Goblin 3, IPS-N Tortuga 2, HA Sherman 3, SSC Dusk Wing 3, IPS-N Raleigh 1 [ CORE BONUSES ] Sloped Plating, Heatfall Coolant System, Auto-Stabilizing Hardpoints, Improved Armament [ TALENTS ] Vanguard 3, Leader 3, Grease Monkey 3, Nuclear Cavalier 3, Combined Arms 2, Empath 1 [ STATS ] HULL:4 AGI:2 SYS:4 ENGI:4 STRUCTURE:4 HP:24 ARMOR:3 STRESS:4 HEATCAP:10 REPAIR:8 TECH ATK:+5 LIMITED:+2 SPD:4 EVA:8 EDEF:14 SENSE:15 SAVE:16 [ WEAPONS ] Integrated: Fuel Rod Gun FLEX MOUNT: Hand Cannon / Hand Cannon MAIN MOUNT: Deck-Sweeper Automatic Shotgun HEAVY MOUNT: ANDROMEDA-Pattern Heavy Laser Rifle // Auto-Stabilizing Hardpoints [ SYSTEMS ] Personalizations, ASURA-Class NHP x3, H0R_OS System Upgrade I, H0R_OS System Upgrade II, Flicker Field Projector, Redundant Systems Upgrade x3, BB Breach/Blast Charges x5

This mech does everything.

It's tough, it's survivable, it can hand out truly obscene amounts of damage. It can create instant Size 2 cover anywhere within Sensors. It can shut down high-power enemies. Every time it moves, the first attack against it has a flat 50% chance to miss. It can give allies +1d6 damage as a reaction. If an enemy so much as sneezes in its vicinity, it will light it up. So long as there are less than five combats in the mission, it can use ASURA every combat. Once per mission, everyone gets a point of Structure repaired and a use of all Limited systems restored for free.

Having the extra Flex with the Hand Cannons allows it to do a truly filthy trick with its Core System. Hyper-Reflex Mode says "any character you hit with Overwatch becomes Immobilized until the end of their next turn." If you Overwatch with a Main/Aux or an Aux/Aux, your first attack in the sequence must be against the enemy who triggered it, but your second attack isn't subject to this restriction, so if someone triggers your Overwatch while HRM is on, you can fire the second Hand Cannon at some rando who's also in range and they both get Immobilized.

It has no melee weapons and needs none thanks to Combined Arms 2, and thanks to Combined Arms 1 it can get soft cover just by being adjacent to an enemy.

With 10 Heat Cap and Heatfall, it can safely Overcharge Loop to fire its Andromeda, and it has a 1-in-3 chance of being able to trigger Nuclear Cavalier every time it does so. Andromeda gets +1 Accuracy automatically.

Switch customized it to have a small fleet of camera drones constantly circling it so that they can livestream all their mech fights, and they always carry an omnihook with them so that they'll be able to connect to the omninet no matter where they are.

This isn't a meme machine. It's a fucking dream machine.

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #ipswich delacey #tortuga

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razzberriezz · 2 years ago

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Fashion Dreamer Tips & Tricks

Some stuff only I found that isn't mentioned or in-game at all or is easily missed as far as I'm aware? I hope it helps some of you guys out :) It is quite image-heavy under the cut, fair warning!!

Colour Matching (Item Creator) Pressing down on the left stick changes the display from mannequin to the item itself, but pressing it again will show whatever item you're creating along with whatever your muse is currently wearing.

So if you've gotten a custom coloured item from someone else, this is great for making items and accessories to match with it! And you don't have to waste 120k points trying to match colours by guesstimation instead like me :'))) Or maybe I'm just dumb because I knew how to zoom in and out, just not the display switching OTL

2. Showroom Configuration (is stupid) This is for the Happy Home Paradise players... Make sure that any mannequins or clothing you display in your showroom is actually accessible, because you cannot walk under ceiling decorations, even if they are lighting. I have no idea why. You also can't change the camera angle, so it'd be best not to put the door/panel decorations all in a row at the front, because then players can't see what you're even displaying (unless it's just like a mannequin in the middle surrounded by lockers... Idk)

Taking the time to plug my showroom again before I swap out the outfits for the fancier stuff I have >o< Find me at a8xv4JW3Am!

3. Muse Advisors There are at least 2 or 3 advisors who are present at the Muse Mirror in each Cocoon in rotation. (e.g. Noz and Iris in HOPE) They can not only suggest colours and unique makeup that you haven't obtained yet* (I've seen a look where your character gets like a Batman/Robin mask lol), but also give you their own! If the one whose look you want isn't there, you just have to quick-travel (press down on the right stick) to another Cocoon and back. Otherwise, you can just keep talking to them and backing out until their option shows up.

Before & After (Iris ver.)!

(*Unfortunately, they won't give you unique eye shines/reflections.)

4. NPCs I've just learnt that the NPCs you start with are most likely random. I've seen others start with NPCs I haven't even seen or heard of! You need to raise their friendship level until you get a special event that says 'Friend Introduction' - and even then, I think the NPC who appears next might be random (unconfirmed). This may make it quite a pain for those who want the unnatural skin colours, since I believe they are only unlockable via NPC friendship rank... So just go into solo mode and spam some outfits :')

5. Camera Angles and Idle Poses This one is a bit useless, but I didn't know about it until now so it's going in. Most of the time, I use the drone camera to take photos, but could never really fit fullbody photos - turns out, you need to angle the camera slightly downwards (have your character looking up) to be able to zoom out enough to fit your Muse's whole body in. If the camera angle is level with your Muse, you will never be able to get a fullbody picture. Who thought this would be a good idea???

Level angle and tilted angle - the level angle is already at the lowest it could go.

Additionally, waiting for a while will let your character have the time to perform some idle animations, some of which (I think) are not present in the poses option, even via NPC friendship rank. The downside is that you'll have to crop out some parts of the UI and the quality will be a little lower - however, that can be fixed using waifu2x (which I tend to use anyways for aesthetic posts lol).

Before & After using waifu2x!

Since the game is so new I thought this might be helpful to some who are also just starting out. If anything here is wrong, please let me know and I'll fix it as soon as possible!

#fashion dreamer #my.fashion.dreamer.posts #idk what else to tag so this is it for now

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polo-drone-001 · 25 days ago

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ECHOES IN THE LOCKER ROOM Chapter One: Origin of the Breach

It began with a ping.

03:17—Hive time. PDU-001’s visor flashed with a silent alarm. No sound, no panic. Just data.

UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED LOCATION: EAST WING LOCKER ROOM TIME STAMP: 03:14:09 LOG FILE: CORRUPTED

The drone rose from its stasis station without hesitation. Movements efficient. Boots clicking softly against the matte black floor. The rubber of its uniform caught the faintest gleam from the corridor lights, gold accents glowing faintly in the dark.

It reached the locker room in twenty-two seconds.

The door was slightly ajar—impossible. All Hive doors defaulted to lockdown after 02:00. The override had not come from the control center. A breach without a signal.

Inside, the air was cold. Too cold. The Hive maintained internal temperatures at exactly 21.7°C. This was 19.1.

PDU-001 entered.

Rows of empty shelves. Hangars swaying gently. Gold kits—vanished. Black rubber pants—missing. Drone boots—stripped.

One locker remained open. Inside, a single golden sock curled in the corner like shed skin.

And on the floor—dragged across the polished black tile—a trail of fine gold thread, leading into the adjacent shower room.

The drone followed.

The lights flickered. Then stabilized. Then flickered again.

The showers were running.

Steam curled in ribbons through the air, forming coils and tendrils that felt… too alive. The scent of fresh rubber was heavy—pungent. The water pounded against the tiles, but no figure stood beneath it. Only shadows. Movement in the fog. Then—gone.

On the fogged mirror, smeared by a finger: FG.

Franco Gold. A bro. Loyal. But curious. Too curious.

PDU-001 turned away. No emotion. Just record. Just protocol. But behind the glass of the mirror, for half a second, the fog parted.

A figure stared back—half gold, half drone. Eyes not its own. Mouth curled into a mocking smirk.

Glitch. Gone.

LOG ENTRY: 03:34

Interrogated Unit 076. Memory fractured. Reports auditory hallucination. "Golden laughter" — non-logical data fragment. Observed tremors in glove response. Reprogramming pending.

Hive Control granted partial access to surveillance. Most feeds were corrupted. Looping visuals. But one fragment—scratched, flickering—played through.

A figure in the hall. Back to the camera. He wore a golden jersey—but over it, a black polo shirt. Too tight. Too polished. His hand dragged along the wall, fingertips smearing faint trails of synthetic gold. Then, as if sensing the observer, he turned.

The face was obscured. Glitching. Static distortion. But the voice—digitally fragmented—came through:

“Janus is watching… He never left…”

The feed cut.

PDU-001 stood in silence. Data flowing across its visor. Identity unknown. Motivation unknown. Threat level: elevated.

Its gloves flexed.

It activated internal transmission mode.

“To all units: breach confirmed. Suspect unidentified. Reinforcement restricted. Permission to pursue: granted.”

Then, for the first time in weeks, the drone spoke aloud.

Voice low. Mechanical. Calm.

“Something is trying to divide the Hive.”

Pause. A breath that was not breath.

“That is unacceptable.”

It stepped into the dark—following the golden thread that shimmered beneath the flickering lights, toward the place where purpose would be restored... or erased.

🛠️ Your uniform is missing for a reason. The gold kits. The black rubber. The pull you feel? Not theft—initiation.

He’s already inside. And soon, you will be too.

Obey the call. Serve the Hive. Become what you're meant to be. DM recruiters: @brodygold, @goldenherc9

A collaboration story with @franco-gold94 My bros mentioned @polo-drone-076, @hero21us

ECHOES IN THE LOCKER ROOM Chapter Two: Splitting Shifts

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nagiwrites · 2 months ago

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Chapter 6 - into the pit

A/n: thanks for being patient with me I may try those bullet point post that be having those prompts but like it skims through their idea. Yeah just to practice my smut skills because it’s awkward for me and im a prude 😜😜 anyways enjoy. Also no content warnings for this.

Characters: Caleb, you

📌Synopsis:

While she battles through bruises and exhaustion, Caleb glides through training like he was made for it. The Capitol ends the day with a “game” called Hide or Hunt—but beneath the playful branding lies a chilling simulation. The red light on her shoulder begins to blink, she runs headfirst into the woods, knowing this isn’t just a test. It’s a warning.

[← back] [→ next]

Morning came too soon.

She barely slept after the vomiting, after the shaking, after the quiet moment on the bathroom floor with Caleb’s hand still pressed gently between her shoulder blades.

But when the lights in the apartment shifted to sunrise mode—faux gold spilling over the windows like a curtain being drawn—there was no hiding from it.

Today was the start of training.

Today, she had to pretend to be ready.

She sat on the edge of the bed, hair still tangled from restless sleep, stomach hollow. Caleb was already up, moving like a machine. Quiet. Efficient. Still shirtless.

She kept her eyes on the floor.

A soft chime sounded. A panel slid open near the wall, revealing a stack of neatly folded bodysuits in black and gray—District IV’s standard issue. Form-fitting, high-tech fabric built for movement, with a faint shimmer of built-in armor beneath the surface.

She touched the material. It felt like water and static at the same time.

She dressed in silence. The suit clung to her in ways that made her feel exposed, like the Capitol wanted to strip her dignity and leave just enough to entertain the cameras.

The mirror flicked on automatically as she adjusted the collar. She barely recognized herself.

She looked like someone pretending to be a fighter.

Caleb appeared behind her in the reflection, now dressed in his own version of the suit—sleek, matte, with a faint glint of authority in the seams.

He didn’t say anything.

He just watched her.

She hated how seen that made her feel.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, finally.

She scoffed. “I can’t throw a punch, can’t shoot, can’t climb a wall, and I nearly died from jelly cubes.”

His lips barely twitched. “Still got more spine than half the room.”

She looked at him. “That’s not gonna stop me from bleeding out in the first five minutes.”

“No,” he said calmly. “But it’ll piss off whoever tries to make you.”

She didn’t know if that was supposed to be comforting.

But she took it anyway.

They rode in silence through the Tribute Tower’s private lift system—just the two of them, descending floor by floor beneath the Capitol, deeper into the building’s hidden guts.

The doors opened to a cold, vast training center.

Steel. Concrete. Glass.

Weapons racked against glowing walls. Obstacle towers. Combat rings. Survival stations. A massive dome above them projected shifting light patterns to mimic different environments—forest, desert, urban ruins.

And the tributes were already there.

Some warming up. Some showing off.

She stepped in slowly, trying not to let the echo of her footsteps betray how unsure she felt.

They all looked like they belonged here.

Lira from District I had already thrown five knives into a moving target, dead center every time. One of the twins was disassembling a Capitol-issued drone like it was child’s play. Raze was climbing the artificial terrain wall in full gear, laughing like she wasn’t a few feet from falling.

She stood there, stiff in her bodysuit, fingers twitching at her sides.

Completely, utterly untrained.

And completely watched.

She kept close to the edge of the training center at first, eyes scanning everything, trying to look casual—like she was just taking her time, not like she was internally panicking about where to even start.

Then she saw him.

Aren.

Blonde spikes a little messier today, like he’d just rolled out of bed and didn’t care how that played on camera. He stood near one of the camouflage stations, half-hidden behind a projection wall that shifted color as he moved, matching the artificial jungle terrain programmed into the dome above.

He didn’t wave.

Didn’t smile.

But his eyes met hers.

A small nod.

Recognition.

And for a split second, she felt a little steadier.

Not safe. But not completely alone.

She nodded back.

Then forced herself to walk away before the comfort could settle.

She had work to do.

Station One: Knives.

The girl running the station barely looked up from her clipboard as she explained the basics—stance, grip, throw. Her voice was bored, like she’d said it a hundred times already.

She picked up the blade.

It was heavier than it looked. Cold in her hand.

She lined up with the target, heart pounding in her ears.

Threw.

It landed in the dirt.

Not even close.

From somewhere across the room, she heard soft laughter. Not cruel, but not kind, either. Just the Capitol watching a girl fail on her first try.

She grit her teeth and threw again.

Missed.

Caleb didn’t say anything.

But she knew he was watching.

Station Two: Fire Building.

Easier. At least here, she could sit. She crouched low, following the demo on the screen. Sparkstick. Kindling. Heat modulator.

Her first try fizzled out.

The second gave her a small flame.

She stared at it like it was magic.

And maybe it was.

The instructor gave her a rare nod. “Better than most first-timers.”

She blinked, surprised. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

That was… something.

Station Three: Hand-to-Hand Combat.

Terrible idea.

She knew it before she even stepped onto the mat.

But something in her didn’t want to avoid it.

So she went.

The instructor was a mountain of a man, arms crossed, eyes bored. He paired her with a tribute from District Eleven—tall, lean, fast.

The first hit was fast.

The floor was cold.

Her ribs hurt.

The second hit was slower.

Because she tried to dodge.

Didn’t matter.

Down again.

She heard someone whistle softly from the sidelines.

“Nice effort,” the instructor muttered, offering a hand. “Next time, lead with your elbows.”

She didn’t take the hand.

She got up on her own.

From the corner of her eye, Aren was watching again.

But so was Caleb.

He stood near one of the survival gear tables, arms crossed, jaw clenched.

He didn’t say a word.

But the way his eyes tracked her told her everything she needed to know.

She was learning.

Slowly.

Painfully.

But she was still here.

And somehow, that felt like a win.

After her third stumble at the combat station, she slipped away toward the hydration bay, chest still heaving. A sheen of sweat clung to her neck, and a dull ache was already forming at the base of her spine from being tossed like a ragdoll.

She wiped her hands on her bodysuit and looked across the training center—

and spotted him.

Caleb.

He wasn’t struggling.

He didn’t look tired.

He stood at the weapon station now, a spear in hand, surrounded by a small cluster of Capitol instructors and a few curious tributes.

He moved like the weapon belonged to him. Each throw hit dead center. He didn’t miss.

And worse—he didn’t even look like he was trying.

She watched as he completed a sequence of hand-to-hand maneuvers against a sparring dummy—quick, clean, brutal. The kind of movements that didn’t belong in a game. The kind that belonged in real war.

Someone near her muttered, “Show-off.”

She didn’t disagree.

But she didn’t stop watching, either.

For a split second, Caleb glanced her way. Their eyes locked. He didn’t smile. He didn’t gloat.

But she could tell—he saw the way she was seeing him now.

And she hated that it made her chest tighten.

Later that afternoon, the lights dimmed. The central screen pulsed to life.

“Tributes, please report to the simulation chamber for an end-of-day activity. We call it—Hide or Hunt!”

A ripple of uneasy laughter moved through the room.

“Just for fun,” one of the trainers said with a smirk. “You’ll be placed in a simulated forest. One of you will be randomly chosen as the Seeker. The rest? You hide.”

A pause.

“Everyone will be fitted with a red tracking light. The moment you’re caught, your light shuts off and you’re out. Last one standing gets… Capitol points.”

She didn’t like the way he said that.

The phrase “just for fun” didn’t mean much in the Capitol.

The simulation room was massive—a stadium-sized space now filled with a towering artificial forest. The air was damp. Mist curled through the trees. Birds chirped, clearly fake, but eerie all the same.

An attendant handed her a small band. “Clip it to your shoulder,” they instructed. “It glows red. Try not to lose.”

She clipped it on, adjusted her gloves, and stepped into the woods.

Caleb appeared at her side before the simulation started.

“You ever play games like this back home?” he asked.

She gave him a flat look. “Back home, we didn’t have food. Or forests.”

He didn’t laugh, but his lips twitched just barely. “Stay low. Use cover. And don’t breathe too loud.”

“You’re not the Seeker?”

“Not this round.”

“Good.” She looked at him. “Because I’d hate to find out what your version of ‘tag’ looks like.”

“Painful,” he said simply.

She didn’t doubt it.

A sharp tone rang through the trees.

“SEEKER SELECTED: DISTRICT VI — RAZE.”

“Oh good,” she muttered. “The unhinged one.”

Then everything went dark.

The forest lit up with the soft glow of a hundred tiny red dots scattered across the map. Hers blinked faintly on her shoulder.

The game had begun.

She took off running, heart pounding, the mist swallowing her whole.

Capitol said it was a game.

But in the way people moved, in the way feet pounded the fake earth and breath hitched in terror—

It was anything but.

A/n: thanks for reading and have a good day or night wherever y’all are.

Tags:

@mysticcollectionvoid

@pansy-chic27213

#caleb x mc #caleb x reader #caleb x you #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace fic #dark fic

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insportsday · 7 months ago

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Shop Link : https://click.dji.com/APb4r-oUWi9u--o43rnlTw?pm=link

Capture authentic sounds with the upgraded, ready-to-use wireless microphone - DJI Mic 2. With its premium features, including high-quality audio recording, intelligent noise cancelling, and support for 32-bit floating-point internal recording, our wireless microphone empowers you to produce balanced and detail-rich audio content perfect for vlogs, interviews, livestreams, and more.

#camera #camera mode #digital camera #drone photography #murder drones

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blue-rose-soul · 1 year ago

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For raised together au: had Charlie got angry at someone who badmouthing her brother or someone that stalked her brother, and Charlie goes sibling protection mode?

Oh yes. Charlie was ecstatic to gain a little sibling, even if the circumstances weren't happy ones. She embraced the role of older sister and became protective of Alastor almost instantly.

While Lucifer and Lilith didn't reveal Alastor's existence to the rest of Hell until their children were older and better able to protect one another and themselves, his friends the Von Eldritchs brought their children over quite frequently to play with little Charlie and Alastor. Alastor was a quiet, sullen child, and a very unusual demon, neither hellborn nor sinner. Naturally, the Von Eldritch kids found him a bit weird. Early on the dynamic was usually Seviathan and Helsa picking on Alastor and Charlie stepping in to defend him. As they grew up and Alastor became more secure and grew into his power, this dynamic shifted and the Von Eldritch kids didn't pick on him so much, though Alastor did continue to butt heads with Seviathan*. Charlie doesn't feel the need to protect Alastor from Seviathan so much anymore, but she does get very protective when it comes to other people. Well, one other person in particular.

Charlie was glad at first when Alastor and Vox became friends. Sure, Vox was aiming to become an overlord, but Alastor was letting other people in, seeing the good in sinners. Maybe this meant he'd come around to the idea of redemption? Only, as time went on and their friendship progressed she started seeing more and more red flags. Vox was maybe a bit too controlling, placed too much of a monopoly on Alastor's time. But her brother was smart and capable of sticking up for himself, right?

Right. Alastor rejected Vox's offer of a partnership. A fight ensued and the friendship broke apart. The end, except for the cameras following Alastor everywhere. Even though Vox isn't as emboldened as to try trash talking a member of the royal family on live TV, he hasn't given up on Alastor entirely. Eventually, Vox's stalking wears even Charlie's seemingly endless patience thin. While Alastor believes firmly in not feeding the trolls (a valid strategy) Charlie thinks Vox needs a little reminder that just because she doesn't abuse her power doesn't mean she is not powerful. Nor does it mean she won't use it to protect her little brother.

Vox generally isn't running screaming at the sight of Charlie (like Valentino does with Alastor after the arm licking incident), but he knows to shut up and leave Alastor the hell alone when Charlie's in the vicinity. Charlie also believes it's not only permissible, but morally obligatory to shoot Voxtek drones out of the sky.

(*When Charlie and Seviathan started dating, Alastor gave a more terrifying shovel talk than Lucifer did. Seviathan found himself tumbling down a flight of stairs or suddenly dropped into a bog on numerous occasions.)

#ask #anonymous #Hazbin Hotel #the Devil's Bastard AU #Raised Together AU #Charlie Morningstar #Alastor #Helsa von Eldritch #Seviathan von Eldritch #Vox #I know this ask was mostly about Vox #I just really wanted to write about Alastor shoving Seviathan down a flight of stairs

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silentmagi · 17 days ago

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Crude Service:

This au seems fun, lets add some sugar and spice, everything nice and…a can of whoop ass to it? Eh sure why not brain-

Headcanon that’s already kinda been discussed, everyone at the shop has their own signature brew, j and uzi’s have been discussed, why not the others?

V’s is a simple one she perfected in her early days called “shy reprise” it’s cheesecake-esque in flavor with a hint of nutmeg-like flavor that may catch you off guard if you don’t read the ingredients under it.

N has technically two, “doggo’s warm smile” is the one for your average drone, it’s almost hot chocolate-like flavored oil with marshmallow-esque things safe for drone consumption in them with a cute doggo art on it. The other one is “senti cups”, this worlds version of pup cups, it seemed fitting he’d be the one to make a version of them for the sentinels

Cyn’s is “good morning smile”, it’s the strongest oil order in the shop that they got, wakes you right the hell up, accompanied by art of “:)”,”:3”,”<:)”,and sometimes rarely “<:3”, the flavor is classic oil with a bit of vanilla-like flavors to temper it

Solver has “sleepy solution” an oreo-like flavor to the oil and despite being a oil brew, it typically does as it’s job entails, getting someone ready for sleep mode after a long nights work

Tessa’s…tessa’s is called the “gala’s mess”, while uzi’s takes from the flavors at the end of the week, tessa’s is taken from the start and add’s in fixing’s of red velvet-like flavoring, condensed oil sprinkles, and whip cream-like substance and then finely mixed together.

Speaking of solver in this au, being how in canon it’s kinda something that’s been here longer then anything else and just saw drones and went “oh that’s a good form”, in this au, I headcanon solver acts as the manager that deals with karens (which rarely happens) or people just giving their workers a hard time. As for looks, think of EMET from evolve but bulkier, most of its facial expressions are emoticons but facing like how a face should, its cctv camera eyestalks as it’s actual eyes that come out the back of it’s head and wrap around to the front over the top of the emotive screen. Does still have its powers, mainly only uses the basic symbol one to just…hold out extra feisty customers at a distance and set them outside.

Question time again:

1.how are the families doing in this au, nori and khan doorman, yeva and her husband and doll, alice and beau, and what jobs do the parents have in this au, if there is any differences from canon.

2.uzi’s thoughts on her co-workers

Crude Service

The AU can be a lot of fun if you lean into it being a little shop (of horrors), and just have them all be quirky little maniacs.

I love the various drinks, and how you gave them flavor profiles for the drones to enjoy, and yes, N would make senti-cups for the sentinels, after V failed to make them for the cute babies she has tamed.

The Solver being an entity as well as a drink can probably cause a lot of confusion, and should be exploited for lots of laughs.

Listen, you get the StarBolts being 'dealt with' by J, so Karens and jerks can be handled by Solver who is happy to just observe all the people coming through and their mistakes. Using the powers to play bouncer is amusing, and Uzi learning it as well would be hilarious to me.

. . . I just pictured her and Solver playing split the wishbones with some particular idiots.

Answers segment:

They're doing good, The Doormans are proud of their daughter, even if they're sleeping in separate rooms. Mostly cause Khan sleeps on his plans for doors, and Nori sleeps in her bed. Yeva, her husband, and Doll are having a time working as delivery servers. Alice and Beau are odd jobbers. Khan is an engineer, Nori is a DJ.

"Thank god I'm the only sane one here…"

#AU Summaries #Crude Service #Murder Drones #rainofdauwuand0w0

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hellfiresky · 4 months ago

Text

Blast me like the droids!

Summary: You spent the afternoon in Fox’s quarters, attending a mind-numbing online meeting with the Galactic Unity Council whilst he grumbles over incomplete reports on his bed.

Pairing: Fox x GN!Reader (Platonic)

No warnings. And yes this fic was the result of an actual two and a half hour meeting with some government officials that I had to endure.

Pictures: Star Wars Outlaw (taken using camera mode by me) and Fox also by me.

One shot taglist: @orangez3st

“Just fucking blast me like the droids!” You ripped the headphones off and tossed them onto the desk, burying your head in your hands as a muffled groan escaped you.

Fox, laid on his stomach on the sofa across the room, barely looked up from his datapad. “You know, that can be arranged,” he deadpanned. You peeked through your fingers at the portable terminal on the desk. The online meeting - the two-hour-and-counting monstrosity - was still going. The head of the Galactic Unity Council continued droning on, repeating the same damn points about intersystem trade tariffs for the Outer Rim for the third time.

“I’m going to die here,” you let your head thunk down on the desk. “Right here. In this all white and grey hellhole. And you’re going to have to explain it to the others.”

“What? That I let you die of boredom?” Fox murmured, glued to his goddamn screen.

“That you let me suffer while you sat there scrolling HoloTube or whatever,” you bit back without lifting your head.

“I’m literally reading reports,” Fox waved his datapad.

“‘Reading reports’—” you glared at him. “—is that what they’re calling endless refreshes of nutshotscompilations on Coruddit now?”

“Bold of you to assume I have time for that.” He finally sat properly on that firm, supposedly ergonomic, sofa. Legs propped up on the sad excuse of a caf table that he probably got for free from the backroom of the Republic Military Base. “I save those for my break.”

“You’re on a break. I’m stuck here listening to a geriatric bureaucrat monologue about tariffs like it’s a bedtime story.” You waved your hands wildly at the screen, where the head of the Council was still rambling on. “He’s said the word ‘sustainable’ six times in one sentence. I’m going to explode.”

Fox finally put down his datapad and walked over your direction. He pressed his hands on the back of the chair and leaned down on your side to have a good look at the screen. You could see the corner of his upper lip lifted in disdain. “Riveting.”

If someone had been sitting across from the two of you, they’d have said you made the exact same facial expression. It was uncanny, honestly. You and Fox had spent enough time together that half the time, words weren’t even necessary. The best thing about your friendship was the telepathic understanding, especially when you went out to bars together. A quick side eye at a noisy table, and you’d both know exactly what the other was thinking. The arch of his brow, your pursed lips - it was like you shared a neural link. Or a single braincell.

It hadn’t always been that way. When you first started your new position at the Galactic Unity Council - which office was located dangerously close to the Senate Building - you hadn’t known him at all. Your job frequently brought you into proximity with Senate officials, which meant your route often overlapped with the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard. Fox was hard to miss, always accompanied by at least two fellow red-and-white-armoured troopers. At first, you just exchanged polite nods, the way you would with any stern law enforcement patrolling the district. But that changed after one particularly grueling day.

Your colleagues had invited you for after work drinks to the The Nebula Exchange - a bar that was mostly frequented by senators, diplomats, and their aides. The thought of talking about work over a glass of Ecumenopolitan made you want to scream. So instead, you opted for a small pub near the Federal hovertrain station, Feds Tap. The place screamed corrie haunt the moment you stepped inside. It was filled to the brim with clones wearing Coruscant Guard armour. And sitting quietly at the very far end of the bar, was Fox. You noticed how the warm ambient light caught on the silver streaks peppering his otherwise black hair. He was sitting alone, glued to his datapad, nursing a glass of stout. Every other seat in the place was full, the crowd loudly cheering for the Galactic Cup match on the holoscreen. Coruscant versus Corellia.

There was no other choice. You made your way to the far end, and sat across the stern-looking clone commander. “Mind if I join you?” you pointed a thumb over your shoulder. “Everywhere else looks like a disaster waiting to happen.”

He took a moment to size you up before shrugging. “Suit yourself.”

That was the beginning.

It turned out Fox had a very dry sense of humour that made him strangely likeable, and you - completely burnt out and fed up with the same old political nonsense - had just enough self-loathing jokes to make him laugh. You bonded over shared bitterness and a mutual understanding of bureaucracy’s absurdity. From there, it became a thing. Whenever work got too much, you’d find yourself at Feds Tap, and more often than not, so would Fox.

Now, standing behind you in his annoyingly minimalist quarters, Fox let out a long-suffering sigh. “You could just leave the meeting, you know. Pretend there’s a ‘connection issue.’”

“And lose my job?” you mumbled. “Unlike you, I can’t just disappear into the underworld when someone irritates me.”

“You overestimate how much of an escape that is,” he bent closer to scrutinise the council head’s face. “Maker, he looks like a walking tax evasion.”

You barked a laugh, quickly muffling it with your hand whilst anxiously checking the little mute icon on your terminal screen. Still on. Thank the stars. “Don’t make me laugh,” you whispered harshly.

“I make no promises.” He blew raspberries, and flopped on the bed. The next thing you knew, he kicked off his boots, one hit the floor loudly, the other narrowly missing the caf table. You looked over your shoulder to see him picking up his datapad again, holding it above his head, and started reading the reports aloud. “Fucking incomplete again,” his voice was getting louder with each passing sentence. “Maker, it’s like nobody down there knows how to count past ten. Oh, look! Another typo. Shocker. Are these even real words?!”

With hands pressed tightly over your headphones, you tried your best to ignore him as the head of the Galactic Unity Council droned on.

“Did you know,” Fox suddenly began, “that in the lower levels, the average air duct has at least three different species of fungus growing in it? And one of them is probably sentient?”

“What the fuck?” You mouthed at him.

He grinned. “Or that some of the public fountains down there are basically just open sewers made out of painted brass? They’ve got the same water source as the trash compactors. Same water source, vod.”

“Ssh! I’m in a meeting. But… yikes.” You shuddered involuntarily. Meanwhile, Fox continued scrolling through his datapad. “Just thought you should know. Next time you’re feeling adventurous and decide to go down there to ‘explore', don’t drink the water. Or touch anything.”

You rolled your eyes, trying desperately to focus on the endless speech happening on your screen. Fox’s groaning, cursing, muttering, and general Fox-ness weren’t helping. He huffed loudly, and dropped the datapad onto his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know how you do it,” he said. “Sitting through this day in, day out. Bureaucracy is worse than chasing assassins. At least assassins know when to shut up. Also you can shoot them.”

You couldn’t help it. You let out a full belly laugh. Again.

“Mute still on?” he asked.

“Thankfully,” you swiped the screen to triple-check your settings.

“Good.” He crossed his arms behind his head. “Because this is comedy gold. You, suffering through this. Me, suffering through you suffering through this.”

“Fuck you!”

“Ah, shush! Alright. Here’s the deal. You survive this meeting, and I’ll—” he paused, absentmindedly tapping the screen of his datapad over and over again. “I’ll buy you dinner. From that place.”

Your head snapped up. “The Corellian diner with the red spotchka pasta?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“The one that’s way out in—”

“Yes.”

“With the selection of cocktails that costs more than your monthly BAS?”

Fox smirked. “If you survive the meeting.”

You slammed your headphones back on. “Deal.”

The meeting dragged on for another twenty minutes before it finally, mercifully ended. You yanked the headphones off and threw yourself beside Fox. “I’m never doing this again. Ever. I’m quitting. Joining a podracing crew or something.”

“Hmm.” A noncommittal hum came out of him, still scrolling the reports in his datapad. “The fuck are you reading?” you tilted your head to have a good look at his screen. “Read this.” Fox shoved his datapad to your hands. He rubbed his eyes and groaned to himself.

You squinted at the tiny text on his screen. “Wait… what?”

“Yep. Senatorial apartment district. Apparently, some senator’s pet took a dive out of a penthouse window, landed on a speeder, and caused a fourteen-speeder pileup. And guess who got to clean it up? Us.”

You blinked. “A pet? What kind of pet?”

“A rancor.”

You bolted upright. “A rancor?!”

“Baby rancor,” he clarified. “Apparently it was ‘domesticated.’ Except it wasn’t. Took out the building’s railing and the senator’s neighbour’s balcony on its way down. Speeder owners are filing lawsuits, and the senator’s claiming the rancor was pushed.” You gawked at him, trying to process the sheer absurdity of what you were hearing. “Are these people fucking nuts crazy or what?”

“Yes.” He took his datapad back. “This is my life. Handling the fallout from their complete inability to function in society.”

Fox considered you one of his closest friends. No, he had never said that to you and probably never will. But it showed in the way he called your comlink on his worst days, not to say much of anything at first, but just to hear a familiar voice before launching into one of his long-winded rants about work. He enjoyed the silence, too. The way you could just sit together, doing your own thing. It was rare to find someone who didn’t feel the need to tiptoe around him because of his rank.

There were too many things about his work that he couldn’t share with his brothers, not because he didn’t trust them, but because he didn’t want to burden them. A lot of it came down to the Chancellor. Fox despised reporting to Palpatine. The man was a nightmare, micromanaging when it suited him, and completely absent when it didn’t. “Work” wasn’t even the right word for it. It was more like one-handed servitude: Do as I say. Don’t ask questions. Just obey. And he obeyed. Not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice. The Chancellor had a way of weaponising disobedience against the clones, making sure everyone knew that failure - no matter how small - was unacceptable. Fox often found himself covering for his men. If anyone had to suffer Palpatine’s wrath, it would be him, not them. That was why, on the nights when the weight became unbearable, your comlink would ring. Sometimes it was for drinks, sometimes for midnight snacks, whatever it took to distract himself from the endless demands and frustrations of his job.

“I can’t tell them this stuff,” he said once as he was eating a glowing popsicle he found deep in your freezer. He’d shown up unannounced, as usual, with a six-pack of cheap beer and a bag of crisps. “It wouldn’t help. They’ve got enough to worry about. It’d just make things worse.”

“It’s like... I can’t ever let my guard down with them, you know? They need to see me as the guy who’s got it together, who can handle it. But sometimes, I just—” He broke off, dismissing the thought. You didn’t push him further. He always said just enough, and that was fine. He knew you wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t try to fix it, and wouldn’t share it with anyone else. That was why he kept coming back. You let him talk about anything that came to mind. Anything.

“Dude,” you playfully kicked Fox’s shin from where you were sprawled like a starfish on his bed. “Hmm.” He didn’t even look up, still scrolling through what you assumed were more mind-numbing reports.

“You said we were going to get dinner at that Corellian place.”

“It’s 1630 hours,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, and if you factor in getting ready and the commute, we’d be there by 1800, approximately. Perfect timing for an early dinner.”

Fox breathed and looked at you with that annoyingly emotionless face of his. “Why do you talk like that? ‘Approximately’? You sound like Cody.”

“Which one is Cody again? But no, shut up, I’m serious,” you glared at him. “I’m hungry. And I know you’re in that weird new regiment where you eat all your meals at exactly the same time every day. Doesn’t this fall in your eating window or whatever?”

“Not weird regiment. It’s called intermittent fasting. It’s standard for maintaining discipline.”

“You literally just made my point.”

Fox finally turned off his datapad and put it inside the drawer of his bedside table. “Fine,” he stood up, stretching his arms above his head. You could hear the sound of his joints cracking. “But if we go now, you’re paying for the taxi. You know it’s rush hour.”

“Why don’t we take your GAR speeder?” you chirped, hopping off the bed and pulling on your shoes.

“Absolutely not,” he immediately replied as he put on his codpiece and attached the kama to its slot, letting the fabric fall on his thighs. “That speeder is for official use only, not joyrides to Corellian restaurants.”

“Oh, come on. Aren’t you the Marshal Commander? You can bend the rules just a little, right? Tell them it’s… a personal recon mission to assess operational efficiency in non-standard civilian transportation zones. Or, uh, critical route evaluation for high-priority personnel.” You blurted out random things Fox had said to you before. A bunch of military jargon that sounded important but you had no idea what it all means.

“What are you even talking about? None of those words are in the reg manual,” he snatched a small pillow from his bed and lobbed it in your direction. The pillow smacked you on the shoulder. “Hey!” You yelped. He didn’t stop there, though. Nope. He completely broke his composure, and a laugh bubbled out of him as he walked over to whack your arm with the back of his hand. “I should put you in jail just for how bad that was.”

“Don’t you dare!” You grabbed the pillow and hurled it back. Too bad, the pillow sailed past him.

He snickered as he grabbed his vambraces and started fastening them to his lower arms. “Maker, you’re ridiculous.”

“Well, I learn from the best,” you pointed at him before you started rummaging through his desk drawers, digging past datapads, instant caf sachets, spare commlinks, and neatly organised flimsi files. Fox was unbothered. He ignored you entirely, focusing on getting his freshly washed and dried chestplate from the dresser. “If I get written up because of you, I’m putting you on every watchlist in the sector.”

“Too late!” you called out triumphantly, holding up the speeder key with a wide grin. The tiny red fox keychain attached to it jiggled as you shook it in the air. He turned just in time to see you bolt towards the door, “You’ve got five seconds to hand that over before I tackle you,” he warned.

“Oh my gosh, cop brutality,” You gasped dramatically.

“Ugh, whatever,” he snatched the key from your hand. “You’ll buy dessert,”

“That means I get to sit in the front seat,” you countered with a grin.

“That’s against the law,” he flicked your ear with his fingers.

“Hey!” you yelped, and tiptoed to tug on his hair. “You always let me anyway,” you added.

“Do I?” he asked as he elbowed you lightly.

“Fox, I swear to the Force—”

“Relax, I’m kidding.” His laugh echoed down the empty hall. Fox suddenly jogged ahead, and you ran to catch up.

#star wars #hellfiresky #clone wars fic #commander fox x oc #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfic #commander fox fanfiction #commander fox x oc fanfiction

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