#surely it will be an advancement to science

[twstthing]

[Bake Bread] 1/2

Minecraft Single Player! Yuu AU

Summary: Yuu baked(?) bread for Azul.

Yuu has insanely fast-growing wheat on their farm located at Ramshackle grounds. Azul has been so, so shifty about wanting to own the property, but he has continuously and fabulously failed at acquiring it.

But what kind of business man is Azul to give up on such an opportunity? Wheat can take up to 2/3rds of the year to grow, but the wheat this abnormal student plants takes approximately 1 and a half days to be completely grown! Not only that, it is beautifully, so beautifully consistent in its quality.

Yes, sure, there are PLENTY of magic agriculture brands that sell amazingly consistent produce, but this wheat? This wheat is terrifyingly accurate to the industry standard. Azul had to confirm to his two associates that no, he was in fact not tripping balls ("You are MALDING over overrated grass, Azul. You sound just like Jade.")

Just to confirm that he wasn't insane, he had gotten his hands on some legally obtained samples of the wheat (He politely asked for a bundle of wheat from Yuu with a contract where he promised to not commercialize nor generate defamation/slander associated with Yuurmom because of the wheat.) and had Jade take it to his Science Club to study it.

Even according to that Heartsyabul Clover, he was thoroughly impressed at the remarkably consistent quality of the wheat.

Trey had kindly indulged Jade's questions about the wheat, explaining one of the most business-booming, profit-generating, game-breaking facts about this produce

This wheat does not expire.

It doesn't expire? Are you kidding? No preservatives, no drying processes, no water rot, none? None at all?

As Clover explains, "Uhh, yeah. It doesn't go bad even when carried around for months. Yuu gifted me some, but I don't exactly know how to process wheat into flour, so it's been sitting in the pantry for some time now. I've been wanting to put it to use though, so this week I'll be meeting with Deuce, Epel, and Jack to help me process it."

So yeah, Azul is definitely NOT crazy for losing his mind over this farm that Yuu has going on. If he can have Yuu make a contract with him to exclusively sell their harvests to Mostro Lounge, he'd be booming! Fast crops, no preservatives, no need to watch for shelf life, do you even understand what kind of miracle crop this student has?!

When Azul comes knocking at Yuu's door once more, he is greeted with the expected presence of the Ramshackle Housewarden, but also a basket of... Flatly stacked pixelated bread?

"Why, Yuu, I wasn't aware you enjoy my company so much!"

"Come in. Bread, eat."

Azul is slightly surprised by the sudden hospitality, but accepts it to see if he can further his advances in getting his hands on those crops.

Upon being seated in the common room, Yuu takes one of the breads from the basket and begins to eat it in their really loud and strange way. Crumbs are flying everywhere, yet not one speck actually makes it onto the couch or floor. Azul wishes he could forget the way Yuu tried to eat the food at Mostro Lounge for the first time.

Jade sets the plate down, and gives a simple smile, "Please enjoy your food." Deuce and Ace usher various forms of a curt "Thanks." before digging in, but Yuu continues to stare at the plate in front of them. Ace raises an eyebrow, but before he got to make a snarky comment, Yuu grabs their Sirloin Steak with Mushroom Sauce and Stir-Fried Vegetables with their bare hand and proceeds to begin ripping at it.

Ripping is not a strong enough word to describe their eating process, Yuu's mouth was barely open yet there were steak shreds and mushroom sauce flying everywhere. The two little card soldiers were trying to fend themselves from the food splatter onslaught, Jade was collapsed to his knees trying to hold in his laughter, Floyd dropped the food he was supposed to serve in opt of releasing howling laughter, and Azul felt like crawling into a ditch.

.. Maybe this was a more prominent memory for Azul than he initially thought.

But! Azul has persisted through worse, really strange eating mannerisms do not compare to the Leech's impulsive personalities. Therefore, this is nothing.

"So, Housewarden, how do you fare? I can see that this place has recently been cleaned well, was that your doing?"

The sounds of disconcertingly loud bread munching fill the room for a solid 4 seconds. Yuu is staring straight at Azul, and Azul stares back. Azul dully notes that their pupils are square-shaped. He's aware of slit eyes and horizontally slit eyes, as evidenced by goat beastfolk, but he's unsure if a person with square pupils is simply born like that or had an extreme cosmetic surgery.

Yuu audibly gulps and burps after finishing their loaf, the bread vanishing from their hand with the blink of an eye.

There are a lot of things running through Azul's mind right now, but his goal was not forgotten. Get closer with Yuu, get that wheat, make business boom. Thus, he slightly extends his hand out to the basket of pixelated bread that is stacked upon each other like cards, "Mind if I have some?"

Yuu nods, so Azul reaches out with his gloved hand to take one of the reasonably sized hard-as-rock pixelated loaves of bread.

He goes in with two hands to rip the bread in half, but finds that it is rock solid. Of course it is. It is a physical slab of a pixelated graphic of a loaf of bread. Azul feels a bit stupid. ("Of course you are, normie! You should've expected that!")

Despite the failed first attempt, Azul tries to rip at it once more with more force. Fingertips pressed into the slab, he pulls his arms away from each other horizontally in a final attempt.

rrrip

Rip? Azul looks at the now split pieces of bread in his hands, and the previous rock-solid pixelated graphic has turned into actual bread.

Azul blinks. He looks at the basket of bread, and the pixel graphic was still there stacked neatly. Bringing his arms back, he observes the bread in his hands that looks to be an ordinary, warm, freshly baked loaf of bread that bore no resemblance to what he initially held in his hands prior to tearing it.

"You ever eat bread before?"

Azul nearly whips his head up to look at Yuu, who's unconcerning gaze never left him.

Pushing up his glasses, Azul speaks, "I assure you I know of bread, Housewarden. I was simply wondering.."

There are a lot of questions Azul wants to ask, those related and unrelated to the current situation, but he pulls through and selects a question that would give him more insight to the Housewarden's stranger properties.

"I was thinking about how you made this. It's still fresh and warm after all. I didn't know the oven in here was operable, no offense to you and your skilled craftsmanship."

Yuu shrugs, "Just 3 wheat, bread made."

Azul blinks.

"Do you mean 3 pounds of wheat? That's quite a lot of crop to process."

"No. 3 wheat makes 1 bread."

Azul Ashengrotto is one of the youngest genius businessmen to enter the world. His thorough work and sound words carry his reputation as smoothly as sea currents, letting all know of his benevolence and charm. However, such skill was not born from nothing. The young man had persisted through harder times, fought his way to the top, wrangling only the best of deals and people to keep his position rising, an experienced businessman as he is no stranger to challenge.

However, interacting with this abnormal Housewarden has somehow managed to shake the reality and logic of such a esteemed man more than thrice.

".. Do you mind explaining what that means, Housewarden? I feel that you might be referring to a unit of measurement from your home, which I'm unfortunately not familiar with."

Continued in part 2

[anotherferalrat]

Why aren't more people screaming about apothecary diaries???

Maomao (...and Jinshi ig🙄) are

E V E R Y T H I N G.

To meeee

[godsfavoritescientist]

So there's this webserial called 'worm' about a world where superpowers started suddenly showing up in the 70's, and I'm trying so hard to think of a way to merge it with the stans-and-fidds 70s-and-80s plot events. The thing is, powers are caused by going through a traumatic event, and the powers are tied to both that event and to the person's various issues in ways that sometimes seems cruelly ironic. So you see my dilemma here, with there being so many options for events that could've given these guys powers

[inflammatory]

where is that ancient proverb about how a shut in type computer science guys attractiveness solely hinges on what his hair looks like…….

[owlbear33]

I'm not sure we (humanity) will ever meaningfully do interstellar travel, or have an interstellar society

we might colonise other solar systems, either through generation, sleeper, or seed ships

Using sleeper ships requires us to work out that whole cryonics / deep hibernation thing, and that seems unlikely

Seed ships are easier, lot less difficult to freeze embryos or even gametes than a whole human, but then we also need to work out how to produce a society from that and that sounds hard, eh, feels ethically dodgy and prone to failure, even more so than other methods

This leaves us with generation ships, step one build a self-contained environment in which minimum 5000 people can live for a few centuries or more, almost seems more sensible to build a Dyson swarm

[vermillioncrown]

omfg pls don't waste your youth on my bs like that...

(and this is a thing i want to destroy--not having certain knowledge doesn't automatically make you dumb. you just don't need it/work in that field)

[xadnem]

As much as I prefer hard magic to soft magic in just about any setting, I would argue that hard magic isn’t actually magic, it’s fictional science. I will explain.

Consider the laws of thermodynamics. In this setting we call life, they are immutable. Energy can neither be created nor destroyed, and in any practical application a system will operate at a loss because the energy takes the form of inefficiencies like sound and heat. So if you were doing an energy balance equation for a system and you found that it was gaining energy, the only explanation (assuming you’ve done everything correctly) is magic. Something impossible has happened.

So if you have a setting that operates on hard magic principals, then you are establishing a new set of rules for what is and isn’t possible. In a world in which the process by which someone shoots fire from their hands is theoretically measurable and follows a set of consistent rules, regardless of whether or not they are known, fire being shot from your hands is just a perfectly normal and valid expression of the laws that govern the universe. If it is replicable, explainable, and objectively true, it is science. The science may not be real or applicable to the world we live in, but within the context of the setting, if it follows the rules it is science.

Shooting fire from your hands in a world where there is a fundamental truth allowing you to do so is no more magical than air conditioning is in this one.

[theflyingfeeling]

Imagine if Aleksi and Olli stream together and Aleksi thinks he closes the stream but he accidentally doesn’t and they start making out on the couch 😳

hhhrrmmmrrhrrhrmrmrhhhhrmrmrmh 😳🫠

(^that's me imagining the scene you just described)

[alteredphoenix]

There's a stream up on Twitch right now that's playing episodes of Naruto Shippuden, and earlier it was showing the mini arc of how Hashirama and Madara met, and how Izuna's death drove Madara to forsake his dream of peace twice over.

There's the moment where Tobirama runs Izuna through with the Flying Raijin Slice, and Madara getting ready to book it with Izuna in tow to try to heal the wound, only for Hashirama to stop and tell him the rest of the Uchiha that didn't defect over to the Senju should stop fighting or the war is just going to continue.

And I'm over here like...His little brother is bleeding out, dude. Wouldn't it be better to. You know. Lay him down on the ground and heal him right there and then. And end up convincing Madara that there can be peace. And then go on with the speech? Like, don't get me wrong, it's cute, and I like that Hashirama fought for his idealism and his dream, but I think if he had just saved the talking for, like, five minutes later, Izuna would still be alive.

[cerealmonster15]

HANG ON

STEVEN KING SAID THAT????? girl. what da hell.

[jibunwo]

trying to figure out why research scientists in piratesworld have guns and dress for combat. they do ive had a vision i know they do. but i am not yet sure why.

[vamptastic]

ough ooough i need to learn more about agriculture

[tellescope]

Rift's favorite place to glitch away to is space. Very little ever provokes an emotional reaction in them but that is one they've found consistently does. It's calming, familiar somehow. They have no memories of their time as pure energy hurtling through the multiverse, nothing before becoming aware in a stolen body. And yet space almost seems to call out to them for how much it feels like home.

If Rift is in a situation where 'fight or flight' kicks in and they glitch away out of instinct for their own safety, they will end up in space. It's their default in a sense.

They are aware of certain places in space they should stay away from however. The folks at the lab made sure to warn them far away from Earth if they choose to go out there. The last thing anyone needs is Rift being spotted by a satellite or the ISS, and no Moon either because if anyone in the future discovers extra footprints up there that will be a disaster.

Often they just float around in the outer solar system, a nebula, or visit an exoplanet. They also know not to take anything from said exoplanets back with them after the first incident where they were told to return the rock immediately. Dr. Parkinson was so torn that day between scolding Rift like the others or just admitting their existence to NASA for the sake of the benefits they could provide to furthering space exploration.

The lab crew holds that discussion at least once a month now. The consensus is a draw every time. Maybe someday.

[volixia669]

Labor.

Aristocrats.

Hoooooooooooooooooooo boy.

Okay, so, I guess some extreme leftists are...Really missing the forest for the trees.

As far as I can tell, a labor artistocrat is the concept of someone who is working class, but makes more money than your typical working class person.

Now, I’m sure some folks look at that and nod along, as it gives credence to the idea that those making $400k/year should be hated.

But in actuality, it only serves to further divide us and help the 1%.

It’s playing into an us vs. them narrative that is so tempting to jump for, only instead of the “them” being wealthy billionaires, it’s other working class people. It’s encouraging infighting, rather than going, “Hey, we should work together.” It’s saying that instead of trying to get everyone to a higher income bracket, we should snipe at those who reached that higher income bracket.

Incidentally, many of those who are making above 100k are a part of a union. An actual one, not the mob thing the cops have going on. Writer’s unions, acting unions, nursing unions, etc. Others, are working jobs like engineering or with computers that have become necessary in our society.

Now, this isn’t to say that Unions can’t be bad at times. Unions can absolutely be against, or leave out people of color, queer people, and sex workers. There have been pro-cop unions, unfortunately.

But.

That doesn’t mean the concept of rallying together to demand worker’s rights and fair compensation is bad. It DOES mean that more white people need to work on being antiracist, and that union policies need to be improved to account for systemic racism and other systemic bigotries.

It also doesn’t mean that those who’ve received higher wages because of unions, or because of numerous other factors are bad simply because they have higher wages.

It does mean that we need to unionize and rally together to demand fair wages and worker rights, among so many other things.

It does also mean that while there is no “labor aristocracy” to dismantle, there is a need for some folks to examine their privilege and recognize they are closer to those making 15k a year than those making billions.

(Oh, and for the third time, hey tankies, hey communists, that hammer and sickle in your bio? It represents the USSR aka an authoritarian regime which has been behind the deaths and genocides of millions. Also yes, that’s multiple genocides. From the holodomer, to targeting Jews, to targeting Mongolians among so much more. The USSR was bad, and its flag symbolizes death and authoritarianism.)

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6][Pt.7]

“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”

Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”

“Wait, I’m just here to-”

“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”

Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.

“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.

“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”

Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”

“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”

Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.

“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”

“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”

“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.

“So, what brings you to Gotham?”

Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”

“You go to school?”

“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”

“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”

Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?

“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”

Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?

"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"

Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"

"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"

"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."

Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."

Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."

"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.

'Careful,' Black Bat signed.

"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"

Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.

'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.

"You know sign language?"

"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."

He knew ghost-sign first, after all.

"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."

----

Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.

"You two can come back anytime."

Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.

"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."

"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"

"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."

Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.

----

"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"

Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.

"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."

"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.

"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"

"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.

"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.

"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"

"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"

[midascrow]

Great Minds Think Alike

┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐

synopsis: Alastor is jealous of his own shadow.

a/n: The reader is portrayed as being pretty smart and into science and stuff. I like the idea of Alastor being fond a character who’s pretty intelligent, he finds them fascinating and likes seeing how they tick. Also this might be a little rushed I apologize in advanced!

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

Alastors shadow is a traitor and a fake.

That’s what the man himself believes anyway, whilst he watches HIS shadow flutter around you, a wide smile trying far too hard to appear innocent on its face, as it helps you reach an especially high set stack of papers.

“Oh! Thank you so much…” Your sweet, melodic voice trailed off into an unsure note, not quite aware of how you should address the shadow that’s…ears(?) Twitched and wiggled, eyes(??) squinting back at you as it danced across the walls.

The radio demon wasn’t the least bit sure what had caused his shadows sudden bout of rebel, or why it had seem to take a special interest in you of all people.

Not that there was anything wrong or displeasing about you. Actually it was quite the contrary. Alastor found your company to be far more pleasant than most of the hotels staff and inhabitants.

You were awfully kind for a sinner. And not quite in the same realm of naivety that was the princess’s kindness.

You were smart. Clearly. Always aware of what went on around you and the neighboring spaces. Hardly had you been known to be caught off guard by the entrance of another, nor had you ever bumped into any of the sinners contrary to how the group seemed to enjoy clumping around each other in the foyer during special…”redemption” activities.

You were even so aware as to avoid any touch with the inhabitants of the hotel, including Alastor himself.

And while he wasn’t a very large fan of touch himself, even finding that he could appreciate your aversion to it, the demon couldn’t help feeling a little displeased by the lack of power it left him with when you evaded his touches so expertly.

Always stepping just slightly to the side when his hand attempted to connect with your shoulder. Head craning back, just quickly enough to appear natural when he made and effort pinch your cheeks condescendingly.

Frankly..it was frustrating.

And despite all that, despite all your evasions of the radio demon….here you were, practically-!-canoodling with his own shadow!!

“Oh..! You’re so sweet..” Red ears flopped and twitched, while his eyes narrowed. Alastor could not believe he was being made to watch this…disgusting display of treason.

You giggled softly, hand brushing along an invisible form, as the shadow curled around your own. You watched with a smile as your shadowed hand fell into the hair of the deers, only to gasp when met with the soft sensation of hair beneath your finger tips.

“Oh my…so you’re tangible..?” The shadow nodded vigorously, bumping its head into your palm before grabbing your wrist and laying a gentle kiss to your hand. With that smug fucking grin.

A static screech echoed in the parlour, turning the heads of the incoming dwellers, prompting them to gap at the twitching and seething demon.

And oh, was he seething.

You were far too curious for your own good frankly. So eager to dissect and experiment in what ever had caught your eye. Magic, contracts, demons, anything you could possibly find you wanted to study.

And Alastor was known to be one of the more enthusiastic individuals who indulged in your fascination. Encouraged it even.

Angel had often joked about the way he seemed to preen and puff up in pride whenever he dropped a newly disembodied sinners corpse at your feet, seemingly delighted in your ecstatic gasp of approval.

Which was…another thing. Redemption. Did you want to be redeemed? You’d hardly spoke of it. Sure, you participated in the trust exercised that the princess set up, but nearly everyone had to regardless. Perhaps you were too fascinated with the underworld to truly even think about the idea of redemption.

Alastor himself knew he wouldn’t, nor could he ever be redeemed. And frankly, the idea of you being thrown up to those pearly gates made his insides squirm in the most horrible way.

But that’s not something he wanted to ponder on right now. Not as he practically teleported to your side, shooting his shadow a sneer that it had the nerve to return, as he bent slightly over your shoulder. “My dear! What is it that has currently caught your eye this fine evening?”

When your eyes snapped to his own, he could practically feel the static buzz around him pleasantly, a smug shine in his eyes having successfully stolen your attention from that accursed shadow.

“Alastor! I was just…uh..chatting I suppose with your shadow! He’s been very helpful today. Did you send him?”

No-“Why yes! I did my dear. I figured it wouldn’t help to lend you a helping hand this night, after all you’ve been such a joy around the hotel since your arrival!”

The shadow swished and darted around, vigorously shaking its heads and hands in a way to catch your attention, but a small tap of alastors can to the floor sent it dissipating back to his feet with a displeased hiss.

“I simply could not stop myself from assisting the lovely little sinner that had come into the arms of our sweet little hotel.”

His smile twitched and stretched at the sight of your shiny flattered gaze, that darted across his face with the same awe you exuded when coming upon a new bit of information you had to uncover. A new mystery.

Perhaps Angel had a point. Prior to before…he could feel the way his back straightened..the way his ears stood tall and proud, and the tail of his coat shifted just slightly. The Radio Demon could not deny the pride that fluttered into his dead heart and seeped into his flesh.

Even as he hummed about a new species of sinner he had stumbled upon. Even as he watched with somewhat softer eyes as you gasped and leaned just the slightest bit into his space, eyes alight with interest. Even as his dark shadow like tentacles darted beneath his feet and out the door, in search of a new test subject to grab- just for you.

Even as his hand touched the dip between your shoulders blades, when he led you towards his room for a refreshing lunch before your next scientific session.

Alastor could not deny,

He and his shadow were one and the same.