#isolation levels

[wizardnuke]

"i hate microlabels" yeah i also kind of dislike the idea of putting ourselves and our identities into very specific boxes, i think it can be really isolating- ohh wait you mean you think they're invalid. ohh no that's not the way to look at it. killing you

[thedbahub]

Understanding Transaction Isolation Levels in SQL Server

Introduction Have you ever wondered what happens behind the scenes when you start a transaction in SQL Server? As a database developer, understanding how isolation levels work is crucial for writing correct and performant code. In this article, we’ll dive into the details of what happens when you begin an explicit transaction and run multiple statements before committing. We’ll explore whether…

[restlessgem]

Am I the only one who thinks The Secret History would be way more interesting as a stage play than a movie? It could be put on in the same style as a Greek tragedy, taking inspiration from ancient performances. Or there could be constant rotating sets and backgrounds, but the mountains and the cliffs always being present onstage, reminding us that what no matter what Richard is telling us, and no matter how much Richard and the Greek class try to rationalize it, they will always be haunted by what they have done. THINK ABOUT HOW THE BACCHANAL COULD BE SHOWN

[unmaskingdisability]

Cars are a form of mobility aid! Your solarpunk future has to include space for people who still need cars.

Who need to arrive to a parking spot right outside the building ,and not have an alternative of walking a mile if that One Spot is full. Who need safe places to decompress or change medical equipment, who are immunocompromised and risk major health complications from the wrong crowded bus. Who get so overstimulated/in pain/exhausted walking around town that they can't attend the actual event otherwise. Who need space for their medical equipment/backup mobility aids/service dog.

We absolutely need a world where Public transit and walkable cities are the default! And!! There has to be room for disabled people and our needs in your revolution!

[transingthebourgeoisie]

deeply tired of everything becoming About Christmas every december. wretched miserable excuse for a holiday - utterly consuming of any kind of discussion for the entire month of december.

[palestporn]

Chapters: 1/1 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Karkat Vantas & Gamzee Makara & Jane Crocker, Implied Gamzee Makara/Jane Crocker Characters: Jane Crocker, Karkat Vantas, Gamzee Makara Additional Tags: Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Pale Porn (Homestuck), Feral Behavior, By our powers combined we can make Romantic Taming a tag come on guys, Bathing/Washing, Relationship Negotiation, This is a "Gamzee Is A Nuanced Character Who Deserves To Be Nuanced Goddammit" Zone, Pale Threesome, and by threesome I mean that clown gets fucking TOPPED high five, Complicated Relationships, Mentioned Pale/Flush Vacillation, (the gamjane leg of the situation not the gamkar part), humans am i right., Post-Canon, By which I mean I haven't read the "canon" epilogues and don't intend to, but the game's over and the gang's all here. for better or worse lol Summary:

When you've pictured hunting Gamzee down in this new world and kicking his scrawny ass, somehow you've always imagined it in some ill-gotten highblood megahive somewhere. That you'd find him living in squalorous luxury like any entitled highblood on Alternia, scheming and plotting.

The picture you got sent is of a flat gray beach, no hive in sight. Just a blurry figure with a mane of wild hair and curving horns, half-hidden behind a rock in front of an angry, stone-grey ocean. And now, all of a sudden, the word feral is back in your thinkpan and it won't come out.

[seaquestions]

love at first sight

[ID: a painting of three silos seen from below with a silhouetted person in the corner, and an outdoor staircase connected to it which is intertwined with a heart & cardiovascular system painted on the right side of the canvas. piercing the anatomical heart is a heart-tipped arrow. a few white hearts with red borders are drawn by the silos & in the bottom is red text that reads: "squeeze me, shrink me, suffocate me!" End ID]

[umbrellajam]

y'know what let's do it. have Jack Drake accused of murdering Janet for a different flavor of drama and whump

he was in a coma and then wheelchair-bound for weeks/months after the incident you say? he was FAKING, it was all arranged, a ploy to appear helpless and sympathetic, how else could he have woken up and recovered so smoothly from the same poison that killed his wife

new evidence is produced of a suspicious payment trail from before the hijacking, leading from Jack's DI funds to accounts that appear connected to the Haitian cult/cartel responsible for the Drakes' kidnapping and Janet's tragic demise

the widow of the Drakes' personal secretary, Jeremy Whatzizlastname, and other employees all come forward and wag their tongues about the alarming frequency and escalation of the fights between the deceased and her aggressive, belligerent husband in the lead-up to that final fateful trip - how they were openly arguing about divorce

mysteriously, this relentless mud-slinging media blitz only begins after Drake Industries starts to go downhill and CEO Phil Marin comes under investigation for embezzlement/insider trading...

since it's post-NML the scandal blows up even further. the press hounds young Tim Drake, the iconic NML Kid known to all as the face of re-opening Gotham after the quake. muckrakers gleefully tear apart the recent image of a desperate, loving father who was broadcast on national television putting all his resources and influence toward bringing his lost son home

...actually. doesn't Drake Industries going broke happen right in the middle of Bruce Wayne: Murderer? (checks notes) aha, Robin #100 so lmfao yes, it does.

GOOD EXCELLENT PERFECT, Tim's father figures can both be accused of murder simultaneously 😈 and then the Bats have to divide their efforts and resources between exonerating Robin's dad and attempting to clear the civilian name of an infuriatingly uncooperative Batman…

[couriers-mile]

I enjoy the implication in Origins that Zevran isn't a very good fighter when we meet him and then after Origins he was utterly terrorizing the Crows. All the levels he gained in the Warden's party actually made him a canonically, significantly more dangerous fighter than he was when the Warden met him.

[thedbahub]

Understanding MSDTC Transactions and Isolation Levels in SQL Server

Introduction Have you ever wondered how SQL Server handles transactions that span multiple databases or even multiple servers? That’s where MSDTC comes in. MSDTC, or Microsoft Distributed Transaction Coordinator, is a component that enables distributed transactions across multiple resources. In this article, we’ll dive into how MSDTC transactions work in SQL Server and clear up some common…

[hipstergecko]

Okay people! DP X DC idea time!

This hit me like a trainwreck and I must release it into the wild. Will I write this properly one day?

Anyway!

Let's think about sensory deprivation tanks. Danny phantom. What if the thermos acted like one? It was only meant for short term storage. What if the Fenton's built a coffin like one meant for long term? 

And they caught Danny first?

—---

The Fenton's newest invention "ghost in a box" had caught him. It was a dumber bigger heavier version of the thermos and somehow they managed to catch him right as he was falling to earth after a nasty hit to the jaw from the latest ghost of the week.

He propped himself up on his elbows and hissed through his teeth. Better to get out of this box quickly. His parents probably couldn't handle this guy. Using the bright glow of his eyes, he examined the inside of his new holding cell. It was fairly big. Big enough for him to roll about and prop himself up on his elbows. There was 10 inches or so of watery ectoplasm sloshing around him as he moved and shifted. Surprisingly comfy too. At least compared to the cramped space of the thermos.

Without the glow of his eyes it was dark. Completely dark. The kind of dark that makes you wonder if you really had that hand on front of your face. And it was quiet. The only sounds were the faint sloshing of the ectoplasm and his own breathing. 

He saw the faint line of the lid and tried with all his might to push it open. His ghostly strength didn't seem to do much. He was panting by the time he decided to try to phase through it instead. He ended up with a sore head for his efforts. Airtight, watertight and ghost proof. 

There was no way out. 

He tried his phone which had luckily enough survived the fight.

No service.

Danny sighed heavily and lay back in the water, staring at his phone with a tired frown. So much for luck. Hopefully, Tucker, Sam, or Jazz would break him out before school tomorrow.

The silence was so strange. He'd never been somewhere this quiet before. Even the ghost zone at its most peaceful had the sounds of flowing ectoplasmic winds. He felt his eyelids fall shut as he slipped into a doze. He was frankly exhausted from everything that had happened that day and needed a nap. So he took one as he waited for someone to open the box.

But Nobody did. Nobody could. Apart from his friends and sister, nobody cared to.

You see, immediately upon his capture, the elder Fentons rushed the box back to the lab for testing. After several hours they had declared the invention a success. As long as no one opened the box, the ghost couldn't escape. 

Meanwhile Tucker, Sam, and Jazz were consumed with worry. They hadn't seen Danny get captured, but after Jack and Maddie proclaimed Phantom was caught the next day on the news, they feared the worst.

Jazz confronted her parents about Phantom in the box, but she was kindly and lovingly dismissed. You see, they had given it some thought and finally agreed with their daughter that ghosts too dangerous to be studied should just be caught and dealt with humanely. A compromise. Sure they couldn't do all the tests they wanted, but they would rather have their town and family safe.

The "Ghost in a box" was equipped with noise canceling movement dampening ecto-sustaining technology. In essence a sensory deprivation tank. The ghost would be kept safe until they were docile enough to be released for study or simply turned back into base ectoplasm to be recycled for something else.

But they didn't know about cores.

And they didn't know about Danny.

Cores would not dissipate like regular formless ectoplasm. They would remain even as the physical form of the ghost melted away as their consciousness faded into everything and nothing within the box.

But Danny wouldn't. Jazz knew that Danny couldn't.

A core wasn't made to house a human. A ghost, who was the personification of a person's emotions the moment they died, a being made of obsession, could be condensed and made dormant inside the fragile safety of a core. But a human flesh and bone body? A heartbeat? He would always be there. Able to be sucked in a thermos, yes. Ghost in a box, yes. His ghostly abilities made him pliable enough. But into his core? Never going to happen.

His heart and core were very different, but worked together in harmony. Neither could exist without the other. Neither could be taken out without issue. (The ghost catcher notwithstanding. Freaky duplication personality splitting weirdness) Should his heart vanish into the core, it would die. Hearts do not take compression and dormancy well. Should his heart be removed, the core would have no filter and overtake the body, burning it into pure ectoplasmic fire.

Danny was the perfect balance. His heart strengthened his core and his core energized his heart. He could not be easily shattered or dissipated. But this meant he also could not retreat into his core when his mind or body failed him. 

He had to remain fully formed. Fully in ghost form. The ectoplasm that was being cycled through the box made sure he was stable, but he would suffocate and starve if he became human.

He was well and truly stuck.

Jazz begged and pleaded with them to let him go. The psychological damage would be so severe if he stayed in longer than a few hours. But their success had blinded them to the point of pride. Instead they praised her for her empathy and willingness to study the obsessions ghosts were known for.

They only really started listening to her after Danny had been missing for an entire week. And even then it was just a call to the police and a search to hunt "they ghost who took our baby boy".

(Did Jazz ever break down and tell her parents the truth? Who knows.)

Perhaps the worst part was that his loved ones couldn't even get to the box. It had been locked up in some government facility almost immediately after the Fenton's announced their success. The patent was sold to the government for a truly amazing amount of money.

Danny was out of reach.

It was only after months of petitioning and rallying and absolutely threatening Vlad with ruining his political reputation, Sam was able to gain access to the box to "see for herself if they were truly as humane as the Fenton's claimed". She had 20 minutes with the box and she and Tucker did everything they could to open it. 

Nothing worked. No hacking or code they tried could open it. They had no power tools or weapons to try attacking it with. For 20 minutes they tried.

For 20 minutes they failed.

There was nothing they could do. They were escorted from the premises kicking and screaming.

Meanwhile the product went viral. Some opposed it, some praised it. The Fentons became famous for the "ghost in a box". Soon they were available widespread. Ghosts were being caught left and right and safely contained. most of whom were peacefully living out their afterlives in their chosen haunt.

Many ghosts were caught actively seeking Phantom. Skulker, Ember, some invisible ghost kid, a great hairy looking wolf man, and more. Ghosts were being caught all over the country. None of them could escape once they were put in the box. And none of the other ghosts knew what was truly happening to their kind. They only knew that if you went into the human realm, you didn't come back. 

Surprisingly enough, Vlad was eventually the one to put a stop to it. By forcibly closing the portals. The Fentons were too busy with their manic search for their son to rebuild their own portal. (And even if they tried after jazz told them the truth, would it have even worked?) His own portal was hardly ever used anymore. Mostly because alongside the "ghost in a box", the Fenton finder and ectoplasmic tracker were also extremely popular tools for ghost catching. It was too risky to activate his personal portal. If he was caught, he was as good as dead. 

But he too was eventually caught.

Somebody had finally looked into his shady dealings. Suspicious of him, and not wanting to rule out anything ghostly, they opened a box on him during a packers game.

He never saw it coming.

Eventually almost every ghost people across the world knew of were caught. The U.S. government paid for the boxes and had them categorized and stored deep underground in a ghost proof facility that slowly faded from history.

But what about Danny?

Let's ask a different question. Do you know what happens when a human stays too long without sensory input?

The hallucinations started when his phone battery gave out.

—————

The justice league had been an entity for quite some time now. Long enough that they felt secure in digging down into the underbelly of various world governments to root out world ending threats at the source. Especially after what had been going on with CADMUS and their government sanctioned cloning operation.

Someone (the flash? Batman? TBD) finds old records of a bunker buried deep under the earth full of something called "ectoplasmic" radiation. For the safety of the nearby town of Amity Park, they felt the need to dig it up and clean it out.

Upon entering the bunker in full OSHA approved hazmat, they find strange looking boxes. Boxes upon boxes stretching for at least a mile, maybe more if there are sublevels. Each box is labeled with a number. The first one they find is marked 3278 (or some other arbitrary number). All the boxes are sealed tight with no known way to open/dispose of them.

Most of the heroes agree just to let the bunker be. It was sealed and doing no visible harm to anyone or the environment.

But Batman (or other super? Dealer's choice) decides to do a bit more looking.

He stalks through the boxes, noting the numbers, the lights saying 'occupied' and 'dissolved'. Many of the boxes are buried deep. He can really only observe the ones close to the walkways.

He walks all the way to the very bottom. The very end of the bunker. Where there is a solitary box set on a raised platform. It is labeled number 1. The lights flash 'occupied'.

'Corporeal'.

He takes it back to the watchtower for analysis.

——————

The justice league cannot safely open the box. Any attempt to break it open could compromise whatever is inside. Scans do not indicate what could be inside.

More research is done into these boxes. Nothing digital is found. Eventually someone looked through some old offices stationed outside the bunker and finds patents for the boxes. Dr.s Fenton describe in detail what the box does and how to use it. It was meant to never be opened by anyone without the proper DNA match.

Apparently Jack Fenton, understanding that ghosts can possess people (read overshadow) coded the box to reject anything that had human DNA in it. He had to manually override the security to open the boxes. Which included several (read 100) security questions and passwords pertaining to Jack directly.

So only someone completely non human and non ectoplasmic could open the box.

Good thing they had aliens on payroll.

—————

Superman pressed his thumb to the scanner. There was a light beep and a sudden rush of pressurized air. A cheery voice rattled out of a small speaker embedded in the box's control panel.

"Wow! I don't know how you found an alien, but well done! Please enjoy your docile ghost or ectoplasmic goo! Thank you for using the Fenton GHOST IN A BOX! Patent pending please don't sue."

Superman, startled by the sudden voice, took a step back. The lid of the box opened slowly the inside dark. Toxic looking green mist sluggishly broiled out of the box. It spread almost like fog across the floor.

A black hand with abnormally long and skeletal fingers stretched slowly rose out of the mist, rising to grip the side of the box.

All the superheroes were immediately on edge. Hands flying to weapons and dropping into fighting stances. Superman himself jumped back to guard against whatever was coming out of the box.

What emerged was frankly horrifying to look at. A black mass of bulbous limbs and... Tentacles? Were those tentacles? Claws and teeth scrabbled at the edges of the box until the entire bulk of the thing fell from the edge, squelching with whatever liquid had been inside. It hit the floor of the watchtower with a wet sounding thud.

There was an immediate reaction among the heroes.

"Oh gross!"

"That... What IS that?!"

"Eugh..."

"It's not human, that's for sure!"

"Someone find a member of JLD!!"

"Get Constantine up here!"

Amidst the noise the thing on the floor writhed about. All over it's amorphous body, eyes opened. Countless eyes appearing all over it's form. They were the same toxic green color as the mist, but brighter.

The eyes rolled about and winced. The thing shuddered as if in pain and the eyes squeezed shut back into the void. Instead, teeth appeared, countless mouths inside mouths and razor sharp teeth upon teeth. It scrabbled on the floor and opened it's countless mouths.

And screamed.

Heroes threw their hands over their ears in an attempt to stop the sound. Those with enhanced hearing took it the worst. Superman himself was forced to kneel, hands pressing to the sides of his head desperately. It sounded like the screams of the damned. Of someone dying. Of thousands suffering. He couldn't move, couldn't react. It was going to drive him mad if it didn't stop.

It came almost in waves, battering against the triple reinforced windows protecting the inhabitants from space. Lights above their heads popped and broke as sound crashed about the room. Coffee mugs shattered, fuses blew, and the watchtower was plunged into darkness.

With the darkness came a panic. The screaming was unending, debilitating. Some curled into fetal positions, uncaring of their peers. Others tried to run, but with the power gone, doors wouldn't open.

Not many paid attention to the thing on the floor.

It is important to note that in attendance that day alongside batman were a few of his brood. Namely Red Robin and Black Bat. It is also important to note that Black Bat is a hero who is hearing impaired.

So of the heroes in the watchtower that day, Black Bat was the only one to focus on the amorphous thing despite the noise.

She watched the Eldritch horror even as the watchtower fell to darkness. It had too many mouths. Too many eyes. It's form was barely recognizable in the darkness, but as she watched she could see the makings of something humanoid.

It had a discernable head.

She watched it try to open its eyes various times only to see it shriek louder and shut them swiftly. It was in pain? Even though the lights had gone out? She looked at batman and the other heroes. They were screaming and yelling and trying to figure out a course of action.

She looked back at the thing. The sound beat at her ears in waves. Growing ever louder as those around her screamed in pain.

In that moment, Cass had an epiphany.

She lunged across the room, reaching Red Robin almost instantly. She allowed the sound to reach her ears as her hands left them to dig around in Tim's utility belt. She knew he had them, she'd seen him wear them often enough.

Ahah! She triumphantly pulled the headphones from a side pouch. Dick and Jason teased Tim about the headphones when he first got them for working on casefiles. They were the big chunky kind. Designed to fit over the entire ear.

Designed to be noise cancelling

She turned and sprinted towards the thing on the floor with her prize. The closer she got the worse the sound was. It beat on her brain painfully, she could feel a nosebleed trickle down her lip. Still she darted forward. She leapt ito the air, flipping upsidedown as she did. She aimed to the beings... Head? What could've been it's head... And deftly slipped the headphones onto it.

There was a flailing of... Limbs?... In her direction as she sailed through the air. She landed a bit ungracefully as the sound crashed over her again. She covered her ears with her hands and retreated, turning to face the entity as she backed away.

There were hands... Or hand like things... Clutching the headphones. Slowly the screaming dwindled. Soon it was quiet save for the cursing and crying and relief voiced by the heroes.

"Oh thank god!"

"It's over!"

"Ugh my head..."

"Is everyone okay?"

"I understand why they had that thing locked away now."

"Black Bat." Cass turned to see Batman holding his head in one hand. "What did you do?"

Cass mimed putting the headphones on. "Overstimulation." She said simply.

"What do you mean?" Batman looked to the entity. His eyes narrowed at the way it clung to the headphones. His gaze swiveled to the inky darkness of the box. An idea swirled in his brain and he nodded. "Extreme sensory deprivation."

Cass nodded, pleased.

"Batman! What happened? Are you alright?" Superman approached the pair. His voice was raised slightly. Blood dripped from his ears.

"I'm fine Superman." Batman faced him fully, moving his mouth in exaggerated syllables. "But you're not."

Superman smiled sheepishly. "I see you noticed. I can't hear anything right now." He turned towards the entity. "What do we do now? It's clearly too dangerous to simply let free." He turned back to Batman. "With the watchtower out of power the best option we have is to put it back into the box."

"Hnn..." Batman frowned. "I don't think that would work well. Based on how it reacted to light and sound, we can assume that the box was some sort of sensory deprivation tank."

"Sensory deprivation tank?"

"It's a box that cuts off all stimuli from the outside." Red Robin pulled himself off the floor with a groan. "It's a form of extreme isolation. Do you think that's why it was screaming?"

"What?"

Batman ignored Superman. "I believe so. Black Bat was the first to notice."

Red Robin squinted. "Are those my headphones?"

Cass grinned at him. "Useful."

He huffed and passed her a handkerchief from his belt. "You owe me new ones." She giggled silently and took the handkerchief, wiping away the nosebleed.

Batman grunted, gaze shifting back to the writhing mass of black in the darkness. "We'll have to quarantine this room. I don't believe trying to handle the entity would be wise."

"No kidding." Superman winced, putting a hand to his head. "But we won't be able to do much until Cyborg restores power. He was in the control room when the screaming started, right?"

Not a moment after Superman had finished speaking the backup lights came on.

And the shrieking started anew.

Heroes were once again forced to their knees as the sound hit them. Cass wasted no time and ran towards the entity. It was no longer a roiling bulbous mass, but rather had a partial humanoid form. A clear and present head and shoulders, thin long arms with hands clasped around the headphones.

She didn't know where it's eyes were supposed to be, but she didn't bother taking the time to figure it out. She ripped her cape from her shoulders and flung it over top of the entity. There was an immediate flailing of limbs and tentacles as it tried to get the offending object off.

Cass worked quickly. Pulling a blindfold from her belt, she wrapped it swiftly around the "head" of the thing in front of her. The knot was tied equally as fast, but before she could pull away, her hands were caught.

Long, impossibly long fingers held her hands in a vice grip. They were icy. So cold that it felt like her skin was burning.

But the screaming stopped.

"Black Bat!"

Cass ignored Red Robin's cry and Batman's frantic run towards her.

The entity had stilled.

It's limbs shrunk instantly, leaving almost normally proportioned arms and legs. The tentacles shrank away to nothing. The claws and fangs receding with them. The grip on her hands turned gentle, the fingers shrinking to a normal, proportional size.

Cass's eyes darted to Batman, stopping him just before he reached her. She shook her head minutely. This thing was not hostile.

It was scared.

Cass turned her gaze back to the thing and watched, tense as the fingers slowly ran up and down her hand. It felt her wrist, palm and fingers.

Slowly, the blackness faded into color. Blinding white hair fluttered with an unseen breeze. Skin tan underneath the headphones and blindfold. A tattered jumpsuit in black and white stained green.

A nose peeked out from under the blindfold. A pair of lips, thin and chapped. Freckles dotted what she could see of the cheeks.

It looked young. A young humanoid. It probably wasn't human at all but, the similarities were there. It looked like a boy. Younger than Tim, but older than Damien.

He looked thin. She traced the line of his ribs with her eyes. She would see where his hip bones jutted out. He was emaciated. Or very nearly. He looked as of he'd been starving.

She head Batman shift as he knelt beside her. She knew he'd seen it too. This boy had been tortured in extreme isolation. What had happened to him?

He didn't speak. She didn't really expect him to. He searched her hands for a moment more, before his hands stilled. Then, slowly, carefully, his fingers intertwined with hers. He gave a gentle squeeze.

She squeezed back.

The blindfold covering his eyes grew wet. The wetness seeped down the blindfold and dripped to the floor.

The boy was crying.

"You're real." Came a raspy whisper.

There was a flash of bright white light and suddenly a very starved human boy was collapsing into Cass's arms.

—————

(Cass looked up at Bruce with wide eyes, cradling the boy to herself. He now had pale skin, tattered blue jeans and a worn T-shirt. His tousled black hair was grimy with filth. Dark circles shadowed long dark eyelashes and hollowed cheeks.

Cass was suddenly sure. Whatever he was, he was hers now.

"New baby brother."

Batman sighed heavily.)

————-—

Aaaaaand I have more? Maybe? Like the idea that he has gone crazy and lost his senses for a time really appealed to me. Cue rehabilitation and him trying to free the other ghosts/Vlad and get them back to the ghost zone. Maybe try to go back in time to stop it all from happening? Idk.

I felt the need to post this before I dedicated too much time to it and wrote a multi chapter fic but never actually post it anywhere. 🫠

Tell me what you thiiiiink.

[tutterypuff]

tbh though if you look at the older episodes, Betty was always like absolutely 100% fully and irrevocably unhinged, and her going insane was barely a departure from the status quo at all

like this woman is and always was nuts, and I think it's for everyone's benefit that they're both equally obsessed with each other, because that means nobody else ever has to get involved with their fucked up dynamic

I think it's less that she put her life on hold for Simon's benefit, but that she's a scary lady who knows exactly what she wants, and what she wants is a relationship with a nice autistic guy who's really into femdom

[river-from-alderaan]

being autistic in a world made for allistics kinda feels like being in the backseat of a car desperately trying to be a part of the front seat conversation

[theartofasty]

Man I sometimes really hate how niche my art is, it makes me feel like I just don't fit anywhere, and sure whatever, being "unique" is good but it's also a very isolating experience

I don't quite fit in the horror art scene

I don't quite fit in the furry art scene

I don't quite fit in the fine art scene

I don't quite fit in the creature design scene

I don't quite fit in the concept art scene

I don't quite fit in the metal art scene

I don't quite fit in the queer art scene

I don't quite fit in the fandom art scene

I don't quite fit the nature art scene

I just don't know where to go, I'd love to find spaces I fit into where I could socialize and find existing platforms to help boost my work's visibility, but again, I just don't fit anywhere

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

nobody talk to me I'm thinkin about deaf! curly n pony again.

[lass-us-slay]

There’s a lot B-127 doesn’t know

He’s been down in sub-level 50 for Primus knows how long, so it’s certainly plausible that B doesn’t know certain words. By the Pits- B probably doesn’t even know what certain Cybertronian traditions are! Or even what there’re called (and probably even more-). He’s been down there that long.

Some words that he might have no clue of are:

Conjunx

Engex

Berth (there were nothing to sleep in down there)

Any vulgar words

Shanix (there’s no need for it down at sub-level 50)

Examine

Medical terms

Most likely emotional terms aswell

Sometimes B has to stop and remember what a certain items name is. But so far hes had no reason to, so he hasn’t had to ask anyone of what something is.

I imagine that he only knows certain word thanks to the data-pads that were thrown down to waste disposal. Although that doesn’t change the fact that many of those data-pads didn’t explain things such as a “Trine” or anything else. (Those are common terms to the regular Cybertronian, there’s no need for anyone to explain what they are)

But the word that I’ll focus on today is: Leader.

———

B-127 has heard of it, but not what it means. He ment to ask- he really did! But everyone got swept up with work and he found he couldn’t really find the time to ask.

So he guessed what it meant. And what did he think it meant?

A friend who many people knew and took advice from.

Did he confirm this? No. But did it sure look like one? Yes.

So he supposes Ori- Optimus and D-16 (or Megatron-?) will have to find themselves a new leader to help work through their troubles! And he’d be more than happy to help them, after all their all best friends aren’t they?

And best friends always have each others backs.

B just needs to find a way for them to talk to each other without fighting… Then they can finally all work together to rebuild Iacon together!

He bets it’ll be fun.

(Edit: I PUT B-126 INSTEAD OF 7 😭)