#for reference he's an assistant manager of another store and i'm the manager of my own store

[signals-over-the-air]

not one of my coworkers trying to consistently pressure me into drinking/smoking with him and misgendering me nearly every other sentence then getting mad when i un-added him on snap?? when i never once even opened his original snap to me???

when it's not my day off i'm probably going to talk to my DM to remove myself from training him again bc this is getting ridiculous, it's 2:45 am and he's blowing my phone up about this but i can't block him because we work together-ish

[swordfright]

any tips for writing c!punz? I'm losing my mind out here

I'm gonna start by referring you to some posts that might be helpful:

elm on c!Punz as a very emotional character

my thoughts on c!Punz's self concept

aidan on c!Punz as an enabler

c!Punz is great at putting on a chill, laid-back demeanor, but underneath that he can be very intense, and if you rewatch some of his key plot-heavy streams chronologically, you can very clearly see him becoming more and more intense as the story progresses. Two things I think a lot of ppl tend to either forget or gloss over are 1) he was there almost from the beginning and presumably remembers the golden past that c!Dream so desperately wants to recover; and 2) he was possessed by the Egg, which would've had a pretty big impact on him vis-a-vis how he views his own autonomy and role/involvement in plot events.

In terms of motivation, I think he can be quite tricky to pin down. He claims his motivation is to "live a life without mystery," but that's in the No Way Home stream when he's angrily berating c!Tommy, and personally I don't see this as a terribly reliable admission. I'm not saying he isn't interested in discovering the secrets of life and death, but if you pay more attention to his actions than his words, I think it's fairly clear that this motivation is second to his desire to help c!Dream. He doesn't just want answers, he wants to help c!Dream get answers. What this tells us is that, in a complete reversal of his "money-motivated hired goon" facade, Punz is actually very discerning when it comes to who he's willing to pursue long-term projects alongside. Will he work FOR anyone? Perhaps (he certainly wants you to think so.) Will he work WITH anyone? Hell no.

Another thing I find really interesting is his relationship with Sapnap and how it informs his relationship with Dream. The two of them have been on opposing sides of various conflicts at various points, but Sapnap seems to continue to see Punz as a friend throughout the story, and Punz plays along even after the staged finale. He helps Sapnap and Karl plan their wedding, Sapnap even says he wants Punz to be a groomsman! The two of them are so interesting in relation to Dream, it's a really under-explored dynamic imo! Former brothers-in-arms vs current brothers-in-arms. I think you could definitely argue that, post-prison, Punz is trying to be Dream's replacement for Sapnap in all ways except one: he isn't going to tell Dream no. He's the yes man Sapnap couldn't be.

Also, I think it's important to remember who he was and what sort of stuff he was up to prior to his involvement in the major plot points. He was a beekeeper! He liked giving gifts, and still does! His sense of humor is goofy and sometimes pretty immature, just like c!Dream's. He wants to be respected by the people he respects. He takes good care of his things. In short, assistant manager at the necromancy store isn't his only occupation.

(Lmk if you want clips for any of these points btw! I’ve done a lot of generalizing in this post but I’m happy to find clips if that’s helpful for you.)

[meanwhileinstasiville]

Some things you can find yourself dealing with in a place like this

*Sits down* *skinhead looking guy yells "positive male role model" out of context in what I assume was a conversation before that. Within a minute or so.

And then this guy. And then the skinhead makes another pass "my son in law" he yells. Like a nazi daddy or a skinhead bootlicker thing? But I digress.

So I got to see a veterinarian with aVh on the sign try to double bill for removing anal glands from a dog. Procedure at place and time had nothing to do with that, and as anyone might assume; they can only be removed once.

Now, secondhand because I'm seated away from their office, it's relayed to me that "is there any way we can top that!?!" As said by the vet to his assistant. And meaning it was intentional. Of course that seems *extremely specific a thing* to try that with because that's a young dog surgery. As expensive as could plausibly be assumed.

So there's more to the story with this. Years ago I'm beefing with a coworker over a lot of different things, and what this amounts to is, sitting in Ashland restaurant formerly a greasy spoon building across the street and *waiting almost an hour for a hamburger when the place is all but empty* Almost empty because I'm sitting at the counter rather than a table and there's a sketchy thuggish guy whose decided to sit next to me. And this is exactly like the vet but immediate and personal. And it's cold when I get it, too. Something of a recurring theme.

It's not like they're being called out on it so much as it's not taken politely, and so they lean farther into it. About like someone who's taking your newspaper and you know they kill you if you catch them; you can have these vague suggestive conversations about the stuff but then, a newspaper is worth murder.

And I've got stories like this going all the way back through school and *I'm over forty* now. And yes, this place is so-called "little Chicago" since the 1920s.

So it's school districts and businesses, a lot of management around them, street gangs, drug traders, a chunk of the student body of at least one highschool from what I've experienced around town. A friend commented on "how expensive all this must be" and *it's Chicago* a lot of homeowners here don't work and I would guess it's a majority.

So I can get sought out by a scoffing group of latinos referring to me as "speaking of the wild goose" at the end of sutton. Why? Because a fire gutted the neighborhood next to a golf course less than a mile from an interstate called "the freeway". So they're redlined yes and no because it's total loss to the people who lived up there, meaning bare land, and they can build houses on the cheap. Arson is a really good way to crash the neighborhood, I guess. And I'm not Chicago but they seem true to form in "whitening" latinos by getting them houses here.

And again, we've got some unbelievable number of convenience stores here since quarantine; tiendidas every few blocks. Ashland can put them next to the huge number of gas stations left over from prohibition; one of which even *became a literal bar* called growler guys. And a smoke shop up a street from another smoke shop. One next to a carpet store. The other next to a tattoo parlor. So it's haves and have nots like class war but they're all in the same business. And *to me* while leaving out a whole lot of stories, it feels like a Vichy France thing. Like some people built this place including my own family, and then it got occupied, and then history got weird according to the occupiers.

So it's like, "they have no idea why it's here or how it works" and yet it's Chicago "resort retirement community in perpetuity", and they're all enemies in Chicago but "they're all friends here".

[sincerelyasomebody]

Mama || Leticia "Letty" Cruz

(GIF: @angels-reyes)

A/N: This was created because I've seen some speculation that Letty may not make it to the end of Season 3 (😭🥺). My mind needed something fluffy to combat this and so this piece came about. Apologises for grammatical errors and please let me know if the Spanish translation needs correcting.

Characters/Pairing(s): Letty x Reader (mother-daughter relationship) ▪︎ Coco x Reader (mention) ☆ Mayans MC (brief mention) ▪︎ OCs (receptionist, mother and son duo) 

Summary: Just a mother protecting her daughter. 

Warnings: brief mention of altercation (male and female), description of injuries, fluff, language, nicknames, painkillers (reference to injury) 

Word Count: 1755

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

(Y/N) couldn't believe how busy the roads leading to the local high school were. It was a Wednesday, a little after ten and the streets were just packed with cars. She thought it was ridiculous considering people were usually at their jobs and children were in their age appropriate schools. There was no reason for people to be out and about. 

"The light's been green for five seconds!" she yelled and honked her horn, "move!" The driver in front gave her the finger before taking off, "you're so fucking lucky I've got somewhere to be, asshole!" she called out as she drove in the opposite direction. 

When her phone rang during her break, the last person (Y/N) expected to hear from was the receptionist for Santo Padre High School. According to the woman, Leticia (Letty as she was mostly referred to) had been in an altercation with another student and her parents or caregivers were requested to come and meet with the principal. Rachel, the receptionist, mentioned trying to reach her father but going straight to voicemail. With (Y/N) being listed as an emergency contact she was called. 

(Y/N) immediately asked about Letty, but was told that specific details couldn't be discussed over the phone. She found that odd, but accepted it (for the time being) and informed Rachel that she would be there as quickly as she could. After hanging up, she grabbed her belongings and told her manager she had a family emergency to attend to. She was cleared and (Y/N) informed him that she would be taking a week off as well and would keep them updated on her situation. 

From the moment she received the call to the time she pulled up in front of the high school, her thoughts revolved around Letty. Being with Coco for several years allowed (Y/N) to gain some insight to the type of life he had been subjected to. Through a lot of tears, constant reassurance and love (Y/N) was able to break through his tough exterior and get him to believe she was in it for the long haul. When (Y/N) was told by him about his daughter being in a similar environment to what he was in growing up, she demanded him to bring her home.

The second she laid eyes on Letty she saw Coco's features and personality shine through. (Y/N) didn't expect the teenager to respect or trust her right off the bat, but she made sure to let her know that she was here if she needed someone to talk to and gave her space. With every door slam, harsh comment and glare sent her way, (Y/N) continued being herself and showed Letty she wasn't a threat. It was challenging, especially when Coco left on runs, but she pushed through. Eventually the teenager began to accept her father's girlfriend without second guessing her. 

(Y/N) stepped into the main office and found a woman standing beside a teenage boy, who held some paper towels to his nose and had a couple of scratches on his face. She moved closer and realised the pair were towering over Letty who sat in the corner and was looking down at her lap. Clenching her jaw, she strode over to the trio. 

"Get the fuck away from my daughter!" she glared at the duo and turned around to Letty, who was now standing, "mi niña, are you okay?" she kissed her forehead and cupped her cheeks, "Leticia?" 

The teenager nodded, "uh… y-yeah, I'm fine," she went to move (Y/N)'s hands but winced, "completely fine." 

(Y/N)'s eyes widened at the state of Letty's hands. They were most likely bruised and what shocked her even more was that there was no ice-pack beside her seat. The boy clearly had been given assistance, but her baby girl hadn't and that pissed her off.

"Rachel!" she called out and a woman appeared around the corner, "you're the one who called me right?" 

"Yes." 

"And, you said you couldn't go over specific details of what happened over the phone?" 

"That's correct." 

(Y/N) nodded and gestured towards Letty's hands, "well I'm here now and would like an explanation on why my daughter hasn't been treated and that young man has?" When the mother tried to give a reason, she raised a hand in her face, "this doesn't concern you, this conversation is between Rachel and I." 

Rachel gulped and could feel the anger radiating off of (Y/N), "well… uh, he was bleeding and –"

"Were there other staff members present?" she asked and when she was given a nod, she continued, "why couldn't they have provided medical assistance to my daughter?" 

"She… didn't tell us she was hurt, ma'am, she said she was fine so –"

"Bitch do her hands look fine to you?" 

The mother scoffed, "at least we know where your daughter gets her attitude from." 

(Y/N) turned to her, "shut up, nobody asked for your ass to speak," she gestured towards her son, "the reason your son's looking like a fucked up tomato is completely justified I can vouch for that." 

"Are you kidding me?" She shrieked and pointed to his face, "he's most likely got a broken nose and there's scratches on his face!"

"Exactly, be glad my daughter didn't have a screwdriver on her." (Y/N) replied and almost laughed at the disbelief on the woman's face, "your son deserved every scratch, bruise and possible broken bone."

"Excuse me!?" 

(Y/N) ignored her and turned back around to face Rachel, "Letty and I will be leaving now."

"Mrs Fraser hasn't seen –" 

"My main concern right now is my daughter's well-being," she told her, "and you've got my details on file so I'm sure Mrs Fraser can contact me at a later date." 

Rachel spoke again, "please if you'd just –"

"No." 

(Y/N) picked up Letty's bag and walked over to the desk, with Letty trailing behind her. She quickly signed out on the tablet and the pair walked out of the building. Reaching her car, (Y/N) unlocked it and helped Letty into the passenger seat. Closing her door, she rushed to the driver's side and got in. 

She helped Letty buckle up, before buckling herself in, "everything okay, sweets?" 

"Yeah… uh, thanks." was the response she received, before she started up the car and pulled out of the school parking lot while explaining where they were off to next. 

-- ♡ -- ◇ -- 

"He's always talking shit," Letty explained to (Y/N) about the guy in the office, "it was about time someone shut him up." 

"And you were the person to do so?" 

She shrugged her shoulders, "he ran his mouth and then touched me, so I beat his ass." 

"Two for one special?" 

"Pretty much." 

(Y/N) chuckled, "when your hands heal up, we'll ask one of the guys to teach you a few moves in the ring, thankfully your hands are just bruised and not broken." 

"They still hurt like a bitch." 

"You've got another two hours before you can drink some more painkillers." 

"What would've happened if Coco answered the phone?" Letty questioned.

(Y/N) shook her head, "honey, I don't even think I wanna know what would've happened," she noticed the teen wince, "are you okay?" 

"Yes." 

"Are you sure?"

She huffed, "I'm fine, okay? I was fine when you picked me up. I was fine when we went to the doctor's office. I was fine at the grocery store and I was fine the last time you asked me." 

(Y/N) nodded and pulled into their driveway, putting the car in park, "I'm not gonna apologise about asking how you're feeling. I'm just – I just want to make sure you're okay. But, now I'll stop because I can see I'm annoying you." 

"Yeah, you are." 

She chuckled, "okay, I'll stop, but you'll tell –" 

Letty sighed, "yes, I'll tell you. You really take this parenting thing seriously. I mean… you've been referring to me as your daughter all day and I–I'm not. But you defended me –" 

"And I always will." 

" – against Kyle, his mum and even the receptionist. I–I've never had that before. And, even at the doctor's office you made sure I was seen by a female because you knew it'd make me more comfortable." 

"Letty?" 

"You treat me like I'm yours and you called me your daughter and I… I don't know, I just," she took a deep breath, shook her head and looked out of the window.

(Y/N) waited for her to continue, but she didn't. Thinking back on today's events, she realised she had referred to Letty as her own. She had been doing it in her mind for so long and didn't realise she had said it out in the open. Letty had heard her reference and it seemed to make her uncomfortable and that was something she vowed she wouldn't do. 

"When I started dating your dad he told me about the kids he had. He told me that he wasn't involved in their lives because being away from them was for the best. I asked him what would happen if one day a kid reached out and his response was "if they do, they do. I ain't gonna turn them away", (Y/N) spoke up, "and then you reached out, sweetums. You reached out and your dad took that as a sign. From the moment you entered our lives, it's been a whirlwind of emotions. We're not this picture perfect family, but we're our own version. Despite being almost an adult, Coco still views you as his baby girl. And, honestly, I've been viewing you the same way."

Letty sniffed and looked up, "really?" 

"Absolutely, gorgeous. The moment you stepped through that door you became mine as well," (Y/N) pointed at the front door of their home, before turning to her, "but that doesn't matter if you're not okay with it. I'm not trying to force you to be –" 

"I'm Coco's daughter," she cut in and smiled at (Y/N), "and now I'm yours too." 

(Y/N) beamed with joy and unbuckled her seatbelt, and Letty's, reaching over the middle console to bring the teen into her arms. Letty wrapped her arms around (Y/N), breathing in her (scent). The woman chuckled and kissed her cheek, "I love you, baby girl." 

Letty pulled her closer, "I love you too, mama." 

-♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ - 

Spanish Translations: 

Mi niña - my girl / baby girl

[libraford]

I can't believe I missed that you'd left the craft shop and gained a new job with equally hilarious stories. Was leaving the craft shop/slime hell location a story in itself? If so do you have a link (I'm on mobile)

There wasn’t really a major catalyst, but since we’re coming up on the two-year anniversary of the Glue Famine and the one-year anniversary of the Flower Shop AU, I’m going to tell you the recap. 

So a major thing that happened in September-ish of 2017 is that our manager got fired. We all pooled our resources, called HR about her abuse tactics and how it was making it impossible to actually get any work done or keep staff on and finally they gave her the pink slip. 

Which turns out it ain’t really a pink slip. It’s more of a ‘clean out your desk, you’re out of here.’ And then they escort you from the building while you have the ‘shocked pikachu’ face. 

This all happened while we were gearing up for Christmas and over the next few months... we saw a lot of things change. And by... ‘things’ I mean... they fired a lot of people. Replenishment manager, assistant manager, half the framing staff. 

So we could see what was happening. 

I knew that my hours would drop after Christmas because that’s the nature of the business, but going from just under 40 hours a week to just over 12 left me more than a little shocked. I received one paycheck that was less than $200. 

For reference, I live on the cheaper end of town with a monthly rent of $500. 

And I thought- the hours will pick up. They will, they always do. But week in and week out... it started feeling like I was being punished- which is somewhat by design and somewhat the nature of the business.

My girlfriend and I had our anniversary off, which we spent in a weird hotel... and that’s where I had a revelation: 

I’m a relatively attractive white girl(?) with a college degree and no criminal record. 

I can probably get a better job than this. 

I went looking around online, just to see what kinds of jobs were out there. Turns out- a lot. And I came across this listing for ‘Flower Arranger.’ 

What in the fuck is a ‘Flower Arranger?’ 

So I applied, kind of as a joke because... how funny would it be if I ended up in my own Flower Shop AU (and so soon after writing Good Clean Dirt, which literally WAS a Flower Shop AU.) Plus... you know... I do flower crowns as part of my side business, so I actually do have some experience and some passion for this kind of work. 

Fill out online app, app tells me to apply in person. So I go the next morning after I’m released from work and apply. Immediately get an interview. And I start thinking... holy shit, this is a long way to go for a job I’m applying to as a joke. What if I get it? 

Interview ends, he tells me he’ll call me. 

I figure he won’t. 

Florist, by the way. The word he was looking for was ‘florist.’ 

New manager at the craft shop tells me she’ll fit in more hours for me if I opt to work the replenishment shifts in the morning. Sure, why not? I’m desperate enough to work a 3am shift. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again. This is my life now: endless boxes of glue. 

As I’m settling in to fall asleep in midday to make up for the 2am wakeup, I hear an unfamiliar sound. That sound... is my phone ringing. 

My phone almost never rings. My bosses always either email or text me. They do not call my phone. 

It’s the manager of the flower shop. “I’d like to offer you a job.”

“Oh fuck- I mean yes. Pretend you didn’t hear that first part.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you on Sunday.” 

It’s... Friday. And normally I would put in my two weeks notice but... seriously? After three years of faithful labor and the best you can give me is an extra hour in the ballpit? Fuck this place. 

Saturday morning, I go to work. I do my job. I tell my bosses that I’m leaving to become a florist. The manager drops her entire coffee. 

“What? Why?”

I gesture, full of ennui- to the schedule, to my wallet, to my bank statement. To the Golden Scratch-Off Ticket worth an entire $10 of expired coupon to the corporate store that somehow served as a bonus. To the bags under my eyes from dealing with children and stressing about money. 

“Oh. Well. Best of luck. We’ll miss you.” 

Because who else do they know that can package 800 items in less than 8 hours? Not a damn soul. 

At the morning meeting, I announced that it was my last day. Apart from maybe two or three people, I was known as being there the longest. Everyone was shocked. 

“WHY?”

“It was very sudden,” the manager said, as if I had come down with a terminal illness.

“They offered me full time with benefits,” I said with a sour smile. My manager did NOT want me to tell them that part. “And paid vacation.” 

I left that building feeling like I’d left a lover that didn’t appreciate me. 

It’s been an entire year and they haven’t replaced me. They’ve gotten rid of most of their custom positions, everyone I used to know has quit. The management had yet another drastic turnover. 

And now I work at a job where I do a lot of this:

[askfreddiemercury]

Freeside is a slum that surrounds New Vegas, it’s inhabited by junkies and drunk people almost all the time. Some points of interest are The King’s School of Impersonation, the Atomic Wrangler casino, and Silver Rush, a place for all your energy weapon needs.

But we decide to visit the Old Mormon Fort first, this is the home of The Followers of the Apocalypse, these people try and help those in need in and around Freeside with what they can. And someone I need to be on good terms with.

Boone: What are we doing here?

Freddie: I’m just exploring, Boone, I want to get a feel for Freeside before we find a way into the strip to find Benny.

Boone: We’re gonna help the people here, right?

Freddie: Yes, absolutely.

But not long after we get attacked by muggers! They don’t last very long against us so after dealing with them we can continue to make our way to the oldest place standing in Freeside.

~~~~~

Walking inside the walled fort there’s a pretty large camp set up inside, a flag with the Follower’s logo on it a cross inside a circle, tents all around the camp, and a sandbag barricade in front. We all take a look around and greet the people, I make my way to the southwestern tent to greet a man with blonde hair.

Freddie: Hello.

He turns around, holy moly.

Arcade: Hi. If you're looking for medical help, try the other doctors. I'm just a researcher. Not even a particularly good one.

I shake my head and focus.

Freddie: What kind of research?

Arcade: Oh, you know. Finding alternative treatments for common illnesses and injuries. Stimpaks out of barrel cacti and other fantastic improbabilities. As far as fruitless wastes of time go, it's quite noble in its aims.

Freddie: What’s the goal?

Arcade: For the past hundred years or so, the Followers have managed to get by using salvaged medical supplies from the Old World. But the side effect of medical success is that more people live longer. Funny how that works.

He then looks sad.

Arcade: Eventually, we'll run out of hospitals to loot. We need new ways to produce those supplies. Or maybe old ways, if this research goes anywhere.

Freddie: What kinds of illnesses and injuries?

Arcade: Cuts, lacerations, broken bones. Infections resulting from all of the above. Common cold, influenza. Take your pick. There are plenty of ways to die out here, and most of them, surprisingly, don't have anything to do with war. Just common human fragility.

Freddie: You don't sound too enthusiastic about it.

I tilt my head as he pushes up his glasses.

Arcade: I'm enthusiastic about helping people, but nihil novi sub sole.

Freddie: Nihi-what?

Arcade: Oh. Sorry. "There is nothing new under the sun." If agave and mesquite were that miraculous, the locals would have figured it out a few thousand years ago.

This guy is starting to sound like someone in the Legion.

Freddie: Isn't that the language that Caesar's Legion speaks?

Arcade: Caesar can cite Cato to suit his purpose. Many people have spoken Latin. Some of them were quite pleasant. It's unfortunate that the language is now associated with the gentlemen across the river.

Wow, this guy is so smart and so handsome. No wait, I have to be serious here. Ahem.

Freddie: Where did you learn that?

Arcade: Not from the Legion, if that's what you're getting at. Books. Sheet music. Gladiator movie holotapes. Bits and pieces here and there. The Followers have extensive libraries, but we all draw water from the same old well. Even Caesar.

Freddie: So why do you do research instead of providing medical assistance?

Arcade: Not all Followers are "people persons." Besides, someone needs to do research. I have no problem with Julie sticking me back here. Out of sight, out of mind. There are worse things one can be, though I do admit, it is a bit boring. Though it has a noble goal, I don't think this research will yield much fruit. No pun intended.

Freddie: Well Arcade, do you and the Followers need any help?

Arcade: Me, specifically? No. I'm sure Julie Farkas does, though. Lab coat, pointy hair. Answers to the name "Julie Farkas," strangely enough.

Freddie: Why don't you come with me?

Arcade: No offense intended, but why should I go anywhere with you?

Time to work your magic, Freddie.

[Confirmed Bachelor] Freddie: I need a good-looking doctor to help take care of me in the big, bad wasteland.

With that, he laughs and places a hand over his glasses. I got him.

Arcade: Overt flirtation will get you everywhere, you know. On a slightly more serious note, if you're interested in helping out with the troubles plaguing Freeside, I can come with you. Just don't do anything obnoxious, like trying to help Caesar's Legion, and we should be fine. Understood?

Freddie: I’d never help the Legion, my other companion would have my head if I did especially after everything I did for him. After I get what was taken from me back from some guy on the strip, I plan on terrorizing the Legion just like they do us.

Arcade: Heh, I don’t think the Legion is going to be scared of you. Unless you take out Caesar and his legate, Lanius. But seeing as you’re asking me to come with you. You aren’t going to be doing that any time soon. Don’t get too cocky now.

When I go tell Boone the good news about Arcade, I can’t help but notice that he’s staring down ED-E. Does he have a problem with him? Maybe he’s seen ED-E before.

Freddie: Hey, Arcade, I can’t help notice that you seem to have a problem with ED-E here, what’s up?

Arcade: it just seems a bit twitchy. Some of these robots, you look at them the wrong way, don’t screw in a vacuum tube right… The next thing you know you’re a pile of ash on the floor and someone’s stepping out of a vertibird to sweep your remains into a Nuka-Cola bottle.

Freddie: Oooo-kay, I’ll keep my eye on him.

Arcade: Safety first. That’s all I’m saying.

Freddie: Let’s get going then.

~~~~~

We all head southwest towards the gate until an old man stops us.

Old Ben: You look new to Freeside, so here’s a little advice, friend. Don’t go past the South Gate greeter without talking to it first.

Freddie: Going past it seems rude, why wouldn’t I want to go past the greeter?

Old Ben: Those bots are programmed to vaporize anyone who enters the fenced-in area without authorization from the greeter.

Freddie: Thanks for the advice.

He smiles and walks away towards a campfire near the gate. Let’s see what this robot says. I walk to the Securitron Gatekeeper.

Securitron Gatekeeper: Submit to a credit check or present your passport before proceeding to the gate. Trespassers will be shot.

Freddie: Credit check? What’s that for?

Securitron Gatekeeper: Admission to the Strip requires an official passport or proof that you are carrying the required minimum balance.

Freddie: What’s the minimum balance?

Securitron Gatekeeper: 2,000 caps.

Freddie: 2,000 caps?! I don’t have that kind of cash! Uh, what else can I do?

Securitron Gatekeeper: If you are unable to meet the minimum balance requirement, an official passport is an acceptable alternative.

But after telling me about the passport he doesn’t say where I can get one, wow thanks robot. The gang takes a step back.

Arcade: I heard of a shop called “Mick and Ralph’s” who sells things you can’t buy anywhere else.

Freddie: You think I can buy an unofficial official passport from them?

Arcade: Who’s to say?

Arcade tries to act very sly about it, after all, I did flirt with him so he could join my team because he wasn’t convinced I was good enough to travel with. Guess I must just have a thing for doctors. Or researchers, whatever he is. Lab coat people.

~~~~~

Ralph: If you’re looking for guns, talk to Mick. Otherwise, I’ve got a nice selection of general supplies.

Freddie: Do you offer any other services?

Ralph: I only offer services if The King gives the okay. Impress him and we can talk.

I’ll do whatever the King’s have in store for me another time, maybe I can get the passport out of this guy in a different way.

[Speech 50] Freddie: A resource fellow such as yourself must have something on the side.

[Succeeded] Ralph: All right. Yeah, I’ve got a little side business going, but what I am about to share with you does not leave this room, eh? Over the years, I’ve gradually perfected my craft to the point of perfection. No one can distinguish between my work and the real thing. What I am referring to is a passport. If you’ve got the caps, I can whip up a Strip passport which will fool even the most well-trained eye.

Freddie: Ah, now I see why you want to keep this low key.

Ralph: Hey, if you’re interested and have the caps, they go for 500. Any less and it ain’t worth the risk of getting caught. What do you say? You game?

You’ve gotta be kidding me… Looks like I’ll have to barter with him.

[Barter 50] Freddie: No way your material and expenses require that. How about half?

[Succeeded] Ralph: Hah! I like your style, kid, but the best I can do is meet you halfway. 375 caps, and we can call it a deal.

He says with much enthusiasm.

Freddie: 375 works great. Okay, I’ll take one.

I hand over the caps and he hands over the passport. Sweet! I bid Mick and Ralph goodbye and make the way back to gate.

[Passport] Freddie: I’ve got a passport.

Securitron Gatekeeper: Thank you, sir. You may proceed.

With that, we can finally open the main gate to New Vegas.

~~~~~

Before I can stare at New Vegas in awe, I’m approached by a familiar face.

Victor: Howdy, pardner! You’ve come a far piece, haven’t you? Welcome to New Vegas!

What the hell is this guy’s deal?! Why is he everywhere I go?!

Boone: Why is this robot following us?

Freddie: He’s the one who dug me out of my grave after all. What are you doing here?

Victor: Consider me your personal welcome wagon! Now hear this - the head honcho of New Vegas, Mr. House, is itching to make your acquaintance.

Arcade: Did he just say Mr. House?

Freddie: It seems like you pop up everywhere.

Victor: Aw shucks, pardner. I suppose it can’t hurt to let you in on my little secret! Old Victor wouldn’t be much use stuck inside just one Securitron! No, I can move from one to another with the snap of a finger! Pretty nice trick, ain’t it? Just don’t ask me how I do it, because I don’t know!

Freddie: All right, I’ll go meet Mr. House right now.

Victor: Yeehaw, pardner! That’s the spirit. He’ll be waiting for you.

He quickly makes his way to the front of the Lucky 38 casino and I follow behind him.

Victor: Boss is waiting for ya upstairs, so get a move on!

A massive gate behind him opens up and we all walk on inside.

[dentalpro7buy]

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The producer of Dental Pro 7 is so positive it'll give you the results you want that the producer presents a 100% money-back guarantee. Your gums do not grow back, however there are strategies to take care of the problem to boost the general look of your smile, increase your confidence and improve your oral health. To begin with, it is important that you simply perceive why you may have gums. Declined gums lead to a void between tissue and likewise tooth root. Although your gums won't return independently, there are all the time a pair strategies to manage gingival recession. Another strategy to treating receding gums is referred to as a outcome of the nonsurgical surgical technique.

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A thorough and thorough cleaning helps the gums keep healthy and robust and prevents their deterioration. We also advocate consuming lots of fruit and veggies and avoiding sugary foods, which make teeth hard and lead to serious penalties. The teeth should be stored healthy and strong, and if this doesn't occur, the gums could also be affected and compromise the function of the apparatus. Over time, critical pathologies can happen, corresponding to pyorrhea or periodontitis receding gums.

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Dental Pro 7 Pros And Cons

The catch-22 with toothpaste is that the ingredients that strip your teeth of bacteria-laden cavity enducing plaque can even strip your teeth of essential enamel. That’s one of many reasons it’s recommended to brush a few occasions a day at most. One of things that used to frustrate Daniel Sanderson was the reality that commercially available toothpaste comprise many chemicals, similar to foaming brokers and fluoride. He surmised that these weren’t good for him, whereas he was also having trouble with bad gums and bad breath.

[depanxins]

Venting - Quit my Job

I feel incredibly anxious right now but I don't regret my choices. I like the other employees at this job I started working at, however I did not like the manager with her obvious discrimination.

A friend of mine asked around how much everyone was getting paid because she had to fight hard for $16/hr. Most people there made at least $16 starting though.

All of the Latinx only made about $14-$15/hr. All of the Asians and black employees made $15-16/hr. Then the white people made $16-19/hr.

One new girl was OFFERED the job at $19/hr for "being pretty" (which no offense but she's very average to all of us there - she's just pale blonde and blue-eyed which the other white kids were not - and which the manager WAS)

I say this all in past tense because I quit. I didn't show up for my last day. I'm having another "snowflake" moment where the bad news of the world is crushing me and I can't stop spiraling and crying. But that's irrelevant.

I made $17/hr so why am I complaining? Because I don't think it's right. I don't care that I made a little more - that's not enough to keep me when the white girls do near-nothing all day and no one says anything about it. I'm not saying I dislike them for being white - I get along with the old white ladies actually. But the high schoolers who don't do their job and leave more work for the rest of us - why aren't the assistant managers saying anything???

And that new girl? Well she asked the only Latino if he knew where to buy cocaine, kept going to the bathroom, spoke very loudly and stared holes into people, her pupils were dilated as fuck and you can clearly see it with her blue eyes. She was married and faked a seizure twice to try and get the assistant manager she had a crush on to help her. He's married too. $19/hr. The only thing she had to offer was blonde hair and blue eyes.

They fired her. But that didn't make up for it to me. I want nothing to do with any place that divides people. If you watched the store closely, you would see that all of the minorities had to do more work for their section, lift heavier things, restock more items while the white people did not. And yet there were more white workers than minorities combined.

I knew Trader Joe's was racist before applying, but I didn't know it would be that obvious. I plan to report this. I don't care that my credibility may be shot from calling in so often. I only did so because I didn't want to deal with the extra work weekenders have while being paid the same (if not less) than weekday workers. And yes, the weekenders is when you see all of the minorities at once. I was only available weekends anyway, and that might be the only reason I was able to negotiate $17. Regardless, it was an awful experience. Don't get me wrong - the majority of the people I met and worked with were GREAT PEOPLE but I felt myself getting close to snapping on some high schoolers for shirking their responsibilities which would stir up trouble for the friend who referred me. So I quit.