#walkway entry gate

[urbanscenarios]

Foyer - Traditional Entry

White walls and a white front door are featured in this entryway's medium-sized traditional red floor design.

[panela-na-janela]

Grand Rapids Pathway Design suggestions for a sizable traditional stone garden path in the summer.

[rockawayrecordfairs]

Pathway Landscape Grand Rapids Design suggestions for a sizable traditional stone garden path in the summer.

[raindrop-valley]

Contemporary Landscape - Front Yard

Photo of a large contemporary front yard concrete paver landscaping.

[hibernas]

Wood Exterior Idea for a medium-sized, two-story, traditional brown home with a shingle roof.

[dawnnaomidesigns]

Driveway - Driveway Inspiration for a tiny stone driveway in a coastal front yard.

[linkspooky]

WIP WEDNESDAY

I wanted to try something new to interact with my followers more, so here's a big chunk of the next chapter of the Azulaang fic I'm working on.

Aang was suddenly forced to bear witness to a naked truth. Azula was a girl. A fleeting thought passed his mind, she was beautiful, and that was all it took there was no going back from that. Not only was she a girl, she was a beautiful girl. Until now, Azula was only an enemy soldier he gazed at across a battle field, hard and made of steel like a machine of war with a fire burning inside her. One small glance was all it took for him to notice she was flesh and bone. He should have realized it sooner, but he was stupid. 

More underneath the cut. Look forward to the finished chapter soon!

The full fic is located here, by the way. If you haven't read it you probably won't understand what's going on so go read it if you're curious.

Aang followed Li’s advice and went right to the Karazakov residence. Though he’d be lying if he said his rushed exit by jumping right out of the window was because he wanted to finish this avatar business as quickly as possible. No, he’d been unable to stand the tension in the room between Zuko, and Katara and Li. 

Aang knew the airbenders preached detachment, and he knew the avatar was supposed to remain neutral, but he sometimes hated those teachings. Then he felt guilty for disagreeing with the elders. The long dead elders of his long dead culture who’d done their best to raise him in the airbender ways. Then he felt more guilt because he was failing his duty as the avatar by wanting to pick sides. That he, a child not fit to be called the avatar, was letting his personal emotions get in the way. That he was being selfish and not thinking of everyone. Then, he hated himself for watching someone suffer and doing nothing about it. Why was he given all this power, if not to help? He didn’t want to deal with any of those feelings so he ran away. That’s what airbenders did, they ducked, they dodged, they avoided. He ran from place to place, and like Toph said he never stood his ground. 

(Aang’s friends were very smart, and Aang was quite dumb, which was why he trusted their judgement over his. He was nothing without them, he’d be just a boy floating in an iceberg). 

He ran all the way to the Karazakov manner, then tried to justify himself by saying his duty as the avatar came first. He was the only bridge between the world of spirits and humans. Of course, Aang didn’t believe the lies he was trying to tell himself at all. Whenever he made excuses like this, he didn’t feel any better, and he didn’t believe them, he just felt more ashamed of himself. Yet, when Aang arrived at the doorstep he smiled. There might be a storm brewing inside the airbender but he wasn’t going to let it show. The world’s problems were Aang’s problems, but his problems weren’t the world’s problems. 

He arrived at the mansion trying and failing to clear his head of doubts (they never went away, they never would no matter how many people he helped, no matter how powerful he became it wouldn’t be enough). Aang stopped looking within and looked right in front of him, seeing the main gate was shut tight. He knew Li’s family was nobility, but he was surprised to see just how massive this place was. The mansion sat on a high hill overlooking the city, giving the Karazakov a view of everything they controlled. The grounds alone rivaled the size of the Bei Fong estate. Including the forest behind it was nearly triple in size. Surrounding the perimeter was a wall of trees and a long fence preventing outsiders from peering inside.  

The entrance at the main gate was closed turning away those who would seek entry. So, Aang rode the wind and jumped right over it. Sometimes it was good to be an airbender. 

He made his way along a gently sloped path deeper into the grounds. The walkway was surrounded by tall trees. He recognized them, they were cherry peach blossom trees, but they were out of season. With winter fast approaching the trees were barren. He reached the Karazakov mansion, with great white walls standing at attention. They had rejected traditional fire nation architecture in favor of modernity. A sigh escaped his lips, a combination of wonder and resignation. In the end, it was just a big fancy house. As an airbender he found it hard to appreciate such an ostentatious display of wealth. He wondered briefly what it was like for Li and Lio growing up all alone in a house this big. Perhaps that was why their bond was so strong, they still clung to each other after years of separation. (He wished Azula and Zuko could get along like that. He wished they could both be happy, but in the end the love between siblings wasn’t something he could understand).

He knocked on the door. He was met with heavy silence for a few seconds, and then hurried footsteps from the other side of the doors. On the other side of the door was one of the strangest people Aang had ever seen. 

He had all white hair without a single strand of black. His skin was nearly colorless, but his eyes and clothing were pitch black, making his skin glow even more by contrast. That pale skin radiated an air of purity, but was stained in several places by burns. On his face. On his chest. On his upper arms. 

There was probably a story there, but Aang didn’t feel like he was allowed to ask. “Sorry,” the stranger spoke first, “My big sister said I’m not allowed to let anyone in. We’re hiding big brother Lio until big sister can convince Zuko to repeal his banishment.” 

“...Lio is here?” “Yes. Big sister said it would be fine. “Zuko’s just being stupid. I’m going to tell him how stupid he’s being. He’ll see that I’m right. Why do people think they can argue with me? I’m always right in the end’. That’s what she said.” 

That didn’t sound like the same girl who bowed her head in front of the man who broke her legs to beg for her brother’s forgiveness, but Aang guessed people were complex, and he was pretty stupid when it came to people. 

Aang explained that Li had sent him here to look at her family’s records of dealing with spirits in the past. The stumbling, fumbling boy in front of him suddenly gained a lot of self confidence. He explained that before his family could help Aang in dealing with spirits, he would need to purify himself at their hot springs. (This place was so massive it had a hot spring - ?)

Luckily as a monk, Aang was familiar with bathing to purify the body. The fact that the fire nation had a similar cultural idea of communal bathing, made him somewhat happy that their two cultures had something in common. The white haired boy pointed him in the direction of the hot springs, and then mumbled a few more things that Aang didn’t quite catch. (Brother…Lio… girl…) Lio was bathing right now, well communal bathing was fine, and Aang wanted to apologize to Lio if he had the chance. At the time he didn’t try to understand Lio’s perspective and he regretted that. Aang followed the little footpath of smooth, colorful pebbles under the luxuriant canopy of flowering wisteria blossoms until he found the entrance to the bath. A low shelf carved from the bluestone had been placed to hold the bather’s clothes. Aang took off his clothing, glad that monks chose to dress simply. He left his clothes in a wooden washtumb, and after lifting the thin hemp curtain with one hand strode inside. 

Stream drifted through the air, it gently unfurled out from the pool, drifting slowly, filling every corner and crevice  blurring her vision. With that and the dim moonlight a person needed to get very close to one another to see their face. Flowers bloomed along the borders of the pool, flower petals floated on the surface, and there was a small waterfall at the end of the pond for rinsing. 

It was pleasantly warm. Aang ouldn’t help the soft sigh of content that escaped him. Heloose for a moment), extending his slender limbs and swimming all the way to the waterfall with a splash. 

He had only just risen from the water and wiped his face, when she suddenly noticed someone very close to her, showering in the surging waterfall with their back turned.

Lio seemed to be speaking, but the waterfall was so loud it drowned out the noise. Aang knew he should announce his presence, but something had arrested his gaze and he could not look away. 

They stopped to watch Lio’s back as if possessed by some kind of spell. Their back was held tall and straight, the contours sharp and defined. But, under the illumination of the stars, Aang saw their back was covered in whip marks, scars, and patches of discolored burns, it was almost impossible to find a piece of untouched flesh. There was no need to mention how much those wounds should hurt. 

The water cascaded over their body, rivulets gathering into the stream down the wide expansive of their powerful muscular back. Some of the spring water splashed off, but more seemed infatuated with their body, clinging to them in a light stream loathe to part. 

Lio turned halfway, their eyes meeting Aang’s. Aang’s face had turned red, but he’d like to think it was from the rising steam, not from seeing another man/woman naked. His culture taught him that nudity wasn’t inherently sexual after all. “Hey, Aangie, have you come to do some naked male bonding?” 

Lio greeted Aang like they were old friends. The smoothness of their voice was unbelievable. They didn’t seem to notice the tension in the atmosphere. Why would they notice the tension, communal bathing was completely normal in the fire nation. 

“Your back…” 

“Ah, it’s nice and shapely isn’t it? I think my back and my buttocks are tied with my breasts for my most handsome feature. My body’s pretty good, as long as you don’t look at my face.” 

Lio was avoiding talking about the scars. To think, they’d always been this scarred, but they didn’t complain about the pain. They were broken almost as badly as Li. 

“I mean yes, you are very traditionally attractive. I am looking at you respectfully though, because I don’t want to make this weird. Communal bathing is normal in your culture, and I respect other people’s cultures, and I respect you so I’m definitely not ogling you like a sex object.” Aang noticed he was rambling, “But uh… what happened toy our back?” 

“Oh, I was naughty boy, so I was whipped as soon as I came home.” “What?” “Why are you so worried? It’s not like we’re friends. Oh, let me guess you saw my naked body and fell in love with me at first sight.” Lio smiled, but their smile didn’t reach their eyes. Their eyes told a different story, those black eyes were like a pair of open wounds on their face, from which darkness was seeping out. “It’s nothing… compared to the pain Li and my family went through it’s absolutely nothing.” 

“Your pain isn’t nothing.” “Haha, what pretty words. Did the airbenders teach you to talk that way, or are you just that cheesy naturally?” 

Aang was taken aback, Lio was like Katara in a way, soft and soothing in one moment, and in the next they surged like a river. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m a bad, rude man, I just don’t like the way you’re looking at me like some poor ugly pathetic thing.” Lio’ s shoulder’s rose and fell, as they heaved a sigh. Aang suddenly found that he couldn’t breathe. He could see the perfect curve of Lio’s shoulders, the lean strength in those lines, of a bow pulled taut, tension ready to be unleashed. He could see Lio’s shoulder blades, strong and massive, moving beneath the scarred skin. “I might be ugly on the inside, but I’d like to think my good looks make up for my bad personality.” They didn’t have a bad personality at all, Aang thought. He didn’t like how easily Lio insulted themselves, but if he said anything, Lio would suffer pity from him like acid flung on his skin. 

Lio suddenly stumbled and nearly lost their balance. Did they slip on the smooth stones underneath their feet. “I’m sorry, Aangie can we continue this conversation later? I thought we could bond in our nakedness but human relationships are really complicated and…” 

The entire time Lio had been standing with their back turned to Aang both hands pressed against the wall. At first Aang thought they were too shy to talk face to face, but nothing about Lio was shy. Now that he thought about it, Lio was unnaturally tall, over six shuka despite only being younger than Zuko, and with a broad back. It would be easy to hide someone behind that shapely back - Lio was suddenly pushed back into the water. Aang caught sight of a feminine figure through the steam, who hastily turned to leave. OH.

Li mentioned that Lio wanted to return home and introduce their new bride to their family. Had Aang walked in on Lio bathing together with his betrothed? 

Aang considered just sticking his head underneath the water and drowning himself, because he’d never recover from his embarrassment. 

That feminine figure only made it a few steps though. Because under normal circumstances, that girl would never do something as ungraceful as stumbling and falling face first into the pool, sending a spray of water into the air. 

When she didn’t surface right away Aang became worried she was actually going to drown. However, Lio moved faster than Aang as usual. That person never hesitated to help, and they weren’t even the avatar. They weren’t cosmically chosen to help save the world. 

“Cough, cough.” Azula inadvertently swallowed a mouthful of water in her panic. When she remembered that it was technically bathwater, she became so indignant and disgusted that she discarded all appearance of calm composure, scrambling and flailing as she tried to find her footing. 

Caught in her panic, and with no dignity left to speak of, suddenly a strong, shapely hand pulled her from the streaming water.  WAIT A SECOND.

Aang had recognized her right away, but his brain refused to process the image until he was exposed to a full frontal view of her, coughing and leaning against Lio for support. 

Aang was suddenly forced to bear witness to a naked truth. Azula was a girl.

A fleeting thought passed his mind, she was beautiful, and that was all it took there was no going back from that.

Not only was she a girl, she was a beautiful girl.

Until now, Azula was only an enemy soldier he gazed at across a battle field, hard and made of steel like a machine of war with a fire burning inside her. One small glance was all it took for him to notice she was flesh and bone. He should have realized it sooner, but he was stupid.  She wasn’t physically attractive like Lio. In fact, if he wasn’t so caught off guard by the realization of her beauty he would be concerned. Her skin was discolored and bruised in several places (training scars), where it wasn’t bruised it was pale. There was almost no fat on her body, the princess looked like a pauper begging for food in the streets. That all combined to make her look easily breakable, the same girl who had once terrified him more than her father. People used ‘beautiful’ to describe so many things it was practically meaningless, which was why Aang used it sparingly. The monks had taught him the impernanece of life when he was young. When he was a little older, he saw the rotted corpses the fire nation had left behind. After that, it was hard to easily call things beautiful, when he saw how easily beauty faded. In fact he hadn’t even meant to say it, it just slipped out of his mouth, “You’re beautiful.”  It was an incredibly stupid thing to say.  He should not have said it. He should not have acknowledged that feeling. A simple skipped heartbeat, and now there were feelings he couldn’t take back. Feelings he shouldn’t feel, because Azula was… well, Azula. 

He expected to hear her laugh, to be embarrassed, to call him out for not averting her eyes and giving her the dignity she was owed, as a woman, as a princess, for ogling her like an object, but Azula just crossed her arms in front of her chest. 

“What is it…? Speak clearly, don’t mumble, and look into the eyes of the person you’re talking to.” “You… you… beautiful…” “Is your mouth broken? Oh no, I believe I broke the avatar. Again.” He confessed again. To his clumsy confession, You’re beautiful she responded. “You’re right, I am beautiful. I guess your eyes aren’t broken.” She was… She was definitely still Azula. Whatever had happened in the three months since he last saw her hadn’t changed her fundamental “Azula-Ness.” “Lazuli, watch your step.” One hand around Azula’s arm, Lio supported her from behind. The difference in their heights was such that their breath puffed against Azula’s ear as they lowered their head to speak, “If you’re not careful you might just fall for me.” They smoothly positioned themselves once again so their back was obstructing most of Aang’s view of Azula. Unlike Aang, they didn’t seem to notice or even be bothered by the closeness of their bodies. The easy intimacy both of them shared bothered him for some reason. 

Aang had been completely caught off guard of the sight of Azula, it didn’t click until just now that Azula shouldn’t be here. Yes, Azula and Lio had disappeared together that day in the forest, but she was supposed to be lost and all alone somewhere cold and dark and lonely not bathing in a hot spring in the middle of the fire nation. Of course, it was Azula, so if she wanted to return home she’d think of some way. 

“Why are you here with Lio? Not that it’s any of my business. I’m definitely not having dirty thoughts right now. My heart is pure, I promise, I was just curious really…” “It’s fine. Mixed bathing is normal in our culture, and besides I’m also a woman so Lazuli is totally safe bathing with me.” 

That’s right, mixed bathing was normal in fire nation culture Aang reminded himself for the thousandth time. 

Bathing under the stars. Girls and boys together. No tension there whatsoever. Nope, not at all. 

“Stop staring, Avatar. I’m flattered, really, but it just wouldn’t work between us.” Aang really hoped she was joking, because she was entering dangerous territory. “Really, there’s nothing untoward about bathing with my betrothed.” “...Your betrothed.” “Yes.” “You’re getting married?” “Yes.” “To who?” “To Lio.” “You’re getting married to Lio.” “You don’t seem to be hearing me right, is there something wrong with those big ears of yours?”

“Are my ears too big? Why didn’t anyone tell me? Were they just trying to be nice?” He was suddenly, very self conscious about the size of his ears but that was besides the point. “Why are you getting married to Lio?” “I fail to see how it’s any business of yours.” That’s right it wasn’t any business of his. 

So, why did he care? 

[quickdeaths]

@nijimx continued from here

"Ah, I see." She wasn't sure whether Miss Niijima had simply failed to notice the rain in the first place, or whatever was on her mind was so consuming of her that she'd chosen to ignore it. Neither could they speculate on what could be the source of her wandering mind - being in the position that she was, it could be any number of things. It was Shinobu's personality, then, seldom to offer her advice unsolicited, nor to be unnecessarily pushy when it came to the personal matters of others. Miss Niijima had a number of classmates that she was close with, besides.

After a moment's pause, the archer gave a small nod in return. "Well, good luck with it, Miss Niijima," she offered with a small bow, before continuing on past the courtyard in the direction of the school gate. After switching her school shoes for her regular ones, she readied herself for the walk through the rain, only to notice that the small, knee-high box at the door had one single umbrella handle sticking out. "Ah..." Truthfully, they'd not expected any to be left at all, given the weather, and how late it was. But, only one, however...

"Miss Niijima?" Having changed back into her school shoes for a moment, Shinobu stood in the roofed walkway beside the courtyard, connecting the entry lockers to the school proper, closed umbrella in her hand and her backpack and her archery gear slung over her shoulders. "Ah, you're still here. I'll not insult your intelligence by suggesting that standing in the rain will cause you to catch a cold, but it is rather unpleasant, isn't it?" Or perhaps she preferred the rain. That would be unusual, perhaps, but not excessively so.

She gestured to the umbrella. "Regrettably, this is the last umbrella in the service box." There was no thunder or lightning - yet, at least - but mostly-outdoors like this, she could hear the sounds of rain upon the grass and dirt, and atop the school's roof. At least it wasn't windy."I'd prefer not to put you in a position to deal with this weather without one, so if you planned upon leaving soon, would you like me to walk you to your station?" Her reasons were less altruistic than they perhaps seemed, of course. Anything that would waste a few extra minutes before Shinobu's own arrival home was of benefit to her, especially given the foul mood her father had found himself in as of late.

[typingatlightspeed]

TF2 Fanfic - Silver Thread Chapter 3

Medic and Sniper visit Merasmus to finally get an authority on how all these magical processes work, and maybe get to the bottom of exactly what spells are involved in the medigun's functionality!

Merasmus is so fucking done you guys.

Ao3 Link! Part of Monstrous Intent!

Chapter 1! Chapter 2! Chapter 4!

Heads up y'all there is so much fucking magic worldbuilding here it's kind of obnoxious, lol. Hit a serious wikipedia rabbithole trying to figure out what should go in the medigun formula, combined with me watching the Meet the Medic outtakes over and over again and just HMMing about it the whole time.

Also fuck me I love writing Merasmus. When he's not being pathetic and put upon I just imagine he's super fucking dramatic and catty lmao

---------

"For the last time, Merasmus is not interested in the Church of Latter-Day anythi—oh. It's you."

Sniper tipped his hat in greeting as Merasmus deflated, having swung his door open wide and begun shouting preemptively. "Mormon problem?" he asked, amusement curling his lips.

Merasmus sighed in a mixture of disgust and embarrassment. "The moment the local mission religions find out there's a practitioner of the dark arts in their neighbourhood, they all think enough pestering will somehow sway me. So it's become a sort of battle of attrition between the local Mormons and the local Jehova's Witnesses as to who can add my eternal soul to their scoreboard." Merasmus scoffed, "Fie! As though the eternal soul of Merasmus the Magician could be won by friendly idiots in business casual attire! It has long since been pledged in service of Bonzo, the circus god, regardless! Good luck snatching a soul from his clutches," he chuckled, waving off such matters as though discussing what his favourite kind of cookie was.

"Er—"

"What is it you want?" Merasmus asked, grabbing for the doorknob with a raised eyebrow. "I can't imagine this is a social call, Mundy."

"Actually, it is. Sort of." Sniper half-turned to look behind him, where Medic was closing the passenger door to the camper van, having strapped the medigun on while Sniper exchanged pleasantries. "Got the Doc with me. 'e's got a few questions for you."

The old wizard peered past the human on his doorstep to the approaching garuda and narrowed his eyes. It wasn't so much that he hated Medic as that he didn't like him very much at all. The giggly airhead was a natural at formalized magic, even before his ridiculous accident (which had showcased how much potential he had, even though he'd failed spectacularly) that had blessed him with a body with an aptitude for innate magic, putting him infuriatingly ahead of where a nascent mage of his education level should be.

The man should be an apprentice, running errands for a master wizard, alphabetizing material component closets, puzzling out the most basic of cantrips, and drawing magic circles over and over again until his hands grew gnarled but his form was perfect! Instead he had already figured out how to astrally project months ago, and how to travel the astral to reach remote locations accurately! Before he'd learned how to fly with his own two damned wings! It was simultaneously galling and deeply impressive, and if there was one thing Merasmus hated, it was someone who was a bigger showoff than he was.

"Dr. Ludwig," he hissed, hunching a bit at the sight of him.

"Hallo, Merasmus!" Medic hooted as he jogged up the dirt walkway that led from the curb through the front yard and castle gates. "Apologies for visiting without notice! I hope you're not busy?"

"No more so than usual," Merasmus grumbled, stepping aside to allow the mercenaries entry. "Come in, but be aware I will be billing you for this visit. The wisdom of Merasmus does not come cheap."

"News to me," Sniper mumbled with a chuckle as he followed the familiar path to Merasmus' library, Medic and the magician himself in tow.

At least, until they passed from the foyer and beheld the entrance to the parlor on their way, inside of which a gang of children who could have been no older than twelve were presently hard at work. A little boy pushed past them with a mumbled, "'scuse me," as he wheeled a toilet out of the room on a hand truck. Inside, a team in miniature hazardous material suits were tearing up the carpet and the padding beneath, while a pair of girls in sundresses and hard hats were going over a clipboard and discussing disposal logistics.

"What the hell is this?" Sniper asked, skidding to a halt and staring into the room. He'd remembered Demoman telling him that Merasmus hired children to do his cleaning because they worked cheap, but this was a whole operation!

"Ugh," Merasmus huffed, "my roommate has an unfortunate and infuriating habit of forgetting where the bathroom is. So he installs other bathrooms in various places." His voice dripped with venom as he spoke. "Without installing plumbing to match."

Medic and Sniper recoiled in disgust.

"Why do you need a roommate?" Medic asked, looking around the castle in which they stood.

"Money is... tight."

"But you live in a castle."

"And castles are not known for being cheap to maintain, Doctor. Wizardry is a niche profession with a very saturated market. We all find ways to make ends meet."

"I can't imagine these sorts of repairs are cheap either, even with child labour," Sniper mused.

"Ja, why not simply evict him, if he is costing you this much in cleanup?"

Merasmus regarded the mercenaries with a look of utmost suffering, like that was all he wanted in the world. "My roommate... makes a lot of money. And has no idea of the value of a dollar. He pays through the nose in rent, so in spite of the toll he takes on my patience and sanity, it's worth it in the end. You couldn't imagine the property taxes on a castle, even in the Badlands."

"I suppose not," Medic hummed with a shrug as Merasmus ushered them along to the library.

*

"And so you understand my problem," Medic explained, coming to a halt from the pacing he'd been doing as he talked.

Merasmus had watched him, his slit-pupiled eyes following his movements with distaste as the nascent mage had given him the play-by-play of his research over the past several months, and the past day's series of breakthroughs. "I've never heard of a healing spell that behaves this way," he said, sitting forward thoughtfully.

"Precisely, so I'm seeking to devise one!"

"But you say this machine can already create the effect."

"Yes."

"And you have no idea how."

"Yes."

"And until you began studying magic, you had no idea it was even creating a magical effect. Which it does without spell trigger nor traditional magic item crafting structure."

"You understand my problem," Medic repeated, a bit giddy. "I somehow, as a layman, created a magic item that can cast an extremely complex and heretofore unseen spell, and now seek to reverse-engineer it."

Merasmus didn't know it was possible to frown this hard. He rubbed at his temples for a moment. "Turn it on."

"Oh, ah, yes," Medic stammered for a moment before pointing the medigun at Sniper, who sat across the table from Merasmus, casually sipping from a mug of tea. He threw the switch, a warm blue light latching onto the bushman and overhealing him comfortably.

Merasmus' eyes flashed green, slit pupils widening, and he nodded. "Even the energies are wrong. I see the silver thread, but even for a healing spell, this isn't normal." He watched for a long moment, the gears turning in his head. "Modern, formalized healing magic doesn't have this resonance, and has a milder impact on surrounding ambient energies. This is archaic."

"So you're saying the spells I've learned to cast with my hands are not the same as what the medigun is doing?"

"Same practical upshot for the most part, but yes. That's exactly what I'm saying." Merasmus rose from his seat, eyes scanning a few bookshelves until he saw what he was looking for. Gesturing vaguely with his hand, a soft glow surrounded a single book and yanked it from the shelf into his grasp. He opened it and flipped through the pages. "Early magic developed by humans was clumsy, unrefined. But it was iterated on over millenia to become the wizardry you know today. Such magic is referred to as formalized magic, to contrast with innate magic, like what you use to fly, or what a púca might use to change shape, for instance."

Sniper thought back to that evening he and Demoman spent with a púca and smiled fondly at the memory.

"Early formalized magic was more ritualized than modern forms. Typically it relied even more heavily on material components and geometric patterns to shape the magic in the way the caster wanted, but was more dangerous and deleterious on the caster as a result. They hadn't yet innovated magical circles or paper seals or other methods various traditions developed to better channel magical energies. Casting a ritual meant typically gathering arcane power in the body first, and using the ritual to then direct and shape it. It was akin to being struck by lighting when the ritual was powerful enough."

"You've cast those spells?" Medic asked, peering around him at the book in his hands.

Merasmus turned and stepped away, regaining his personal space. "I was born before time, dark larvae from the putrid womb of the ancient ones," he hissed, ignoring Sniper's mumble of, 'here we go again'. "The earliest magics were partly my doing! I suffered these agonies that magic might be wrought upon the red earth!"

Medic blinked owlishly in surprise. A smile crossed his face. "I think you would like my friend, Pyro. He's very old too."

"Yes, all ancients get along famously," Merasmus sighed dismissively. "Here, this is the ritual that matches your machine's resonance." He jabbed his finger at a page, upon which were drawn a complex series of shapes and had a list of components drawn, but all of its text was in some language Medic couldn't decipher. "What, exactly, is in the fluid you fill this machine with?" he asked, gesturing vaguely at the medigun rig the doctor wore.

Medic took off the rig, setting it on the coffee table gently. "Let's see here; it is a mixture of paracetamol, iodine, ethyl alcohol, silver nitrate, and blood."

"The components for this spell are benzoin resin from the styrax tree, a violet ichor refined from kelp, neutral spirit, and using a blade forged of silver to draw blood."

"Neutral spirit?"

"Clear alcohol, something unaged and unflavoured, like vodka or everclear," Merasmus clarified.

Medic nodded, the gears turning in his head. "Benzoin resin used to be used in tinctures to treat wounds and lesions, but benzine can be obtained from it, from which nitrobenzine can be obtained, which can be used to make paracetamol."

Sniper sat up, a bit surprised by the doctor actually knowing something about medicine.

"And the violet ichor refined from kelp would be iodine, I imagine. Isolated, iodine is a dark purple, almost black as a solid, and creates a brilliant violet colour as a liquid. It's not an efficient method of obtaining it, but I know some producers of iodine use kelp as a source, as it's rich in the element."

"Wait, so you're suggestin' that the mess of stuff you threw into this just 'appens to be a more chemically refined version of an ancient ritual's material components?" Sniper asked, finally actually engaged in the conversation.

"I do believe that is what I'm suggesting," Medic tittered. "And the electrical current I run through it must act as a substitute for that shock of magical energy that would pass through the caster!"

"Open up that casing," Merasmus demanded, kneeling down to be eye-level with the backpack on his table.

Medic did as he was told, opening the housing to show the pack's interior. By any rights Engineer would have had a heart attack at the complete mess that was the medigun's cable management, wires seeming to hang at all angles, tubes flowing in as many different directions as possible. The removable and refillable bottle of chemical solution sat anchored at the mouth of the opening that led down the connecting tube to the gun itself. Hanging from the opposing corner was a small blood bag, from which the tubes led to the chemical bottle. He stood back and watched over Merasmus' head as the wizard inspected its contents, feeling a bit self-conscious at how inelegant a construction it was.

Merasmus muttered a curse, looking from the open book back to the wiring and back down the to the book in shock and horror. "How are you like this?" he finally asked, less an actual question than surrender to complete exasperation.

"Is there a problem?"

Merasmus jabbed his finger at the open book, at the geometric patterns detailed on the page. "You perfectly replicated the patterns that are to be drawn for this ritual in the shape of your wiring! Every single loop and whorl and place you've anchored these wires corresponds exactly to the patterns required for shaping the energies of this spell!"

"Really?" Medic asked, glee tugging at his grin.

"Everything except the tubes," Merasmus sighed. "And I believe that is your x-factor in this whole mess."

"How so?"

Standing, Merasmus straightened his robe and looked with utter disdain at the device on his coffee table. He snatched up the spellbook and flipped through a few pages. "You remember the singular material component for the spell that created your familiar, yes?"

"My blood."

"The modern ritual circle for that is very different from its original iteration," Merasmus explained, and turned the book to show him the page. A shape like a circle with a few whorling loops inside was drawn on the page. His eyes flicked to the tubes that carried the blood from its bag to the chemical reservoir inside the medigun's backpack. It was a circle with a few whorling loops inside, an overlong tube shoved inside to fit rather than trimmed to drip efficiently. He licked his lips thoughtfully, almost horrified at the realization.

"I've been... making the team into my familiars?"

"Not entirely. The original spell requires more than just blood and the shape. You've been casting an incomplete version of the spell, one which pulls at the silver thread to separate it out and holds it ready."

"The familiar spell does this?"

"When I taught you the spell I told you it would bond you permanently, that your bird's lifespan is yours, and that when he dies, he will take a part of you with him. I didn't think I needed to spell out that I meant your soul, Doctor."

"So when I made Archimedes my familiar—"

"You bonded his silver thread to yours, making your souls extensions of one another," Merasmus said, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, it's like you never read the entire chapter on familiarizing with a creature in the book I sold to you.

"Actually, the chapter on familiarizing is in volume two, and you merely sold me volume one," Medic corrected, thrusting a finger into the air. "The first volume glosses over the subject lightly, which is why I came to you to teach me to do it personally."

Merasmus finally tipped from frowning over into scowling. "You have your answer, don't you?" he snipped.

"I do!" Medic hooted, brightening up instantly, completely oblivious to the wizard's souring mood. "Thank you for your wisdom, my friend! Ah, how much do I owe you for your time?"

With a glint in his eye, Merasmus' scowl slowly transformed into a smirk.

[karaloza]

Legend of Zelda Theme Park - Castle Town (UPDATED)

As guests move along the walkway at the back of the Welcome Plaza, the noncommittal park ambience is gradually overtaken by facades of old-fashioned half-timber houses, and then masonry castle walls. Finally they arrive at a grand archway with ornate double gates flung open to welcome visitors. Atop the archway sits a picturesque train station, and beyond it is a bustling medieval(-ish) market square of cobblestones, storefronts, gaming booths, and more. In the center is a large marble fountain bearing a sculpture of the Triforce, and on the far side of the square, opposite the entry point, is Hyrule Castle at the end of an avenue lined with trees and statuary. To the right of the castle from the point of view as you enter the area, a cathedral-like structure can be seen rising behind the rooftops. The area music loop consists of a collection of “main town,” shop, and minigame themes from across the franchise.

Castle Town, besides having plenty to do in its own right, serves as the “hub” area of the theme park, with walkways leading directly to three of the other areas (besides the Welcome Plaza) and indirect paths to the others via a ride.

Attractions

Spirit Train Grand Central Station: The Spirit Train is a handy and scenic way to get around the theme park, encircling the central portions on an elevated track, with several stops along the route. Some of the sights in Hyrule can only be seen from aboard the train!

Carnival Games: Most of the central portion of Market Square is occupied by game booths, evoking the numerous “mini-games” found in most LoZ titles. The games themselves are of fairly standard types, but the paraphernalia are all themed like items from the franchise—as just one example, instead of throwing a mere baseball at a target, you throw a “Cucco” (even if it is just a baseball with a chicken face and wings printed on it). Rather than paying cash to play, guests pay “rupees” from a debit card they can get from a vending machine, and the more you put on the card, the more bang for your buck you get—say, five dollars gets you 100 rupees, but twenty gets you 500, and higher amounts net further price breaks. The games themselves cost anywhere from 25 to 100 rupees per play. Prizes are the usual small plush toys and cheap trinkets you would expect, but you can bank wins on your “rupee wallet” card and redeem them for better things if you so choose.

Link and Zelda Meet-and-Greet: What theme park would be complete without an opportunity to meet the star characters? The Hero Link and Princess Zelda can be found in dedicated meet-and-greet spaces on the ground floor of Hyrule Castle. Both characters have undergone many design changes over the course of the series, but by default they appear in something close to their classic, iconic looks. Link gets his green tunic and stocking cap, white leggings, and brown leather arm guards, with a bright but not glaring color palette and more fine detailing than most video game hardware can consistently render. Zelda’s look varies a lot more from game to game, but common features include a white underdress and pink or mauve pinafore-like outer layer with gold embroidery, as well as long blond hair and a distinctive tiara. The objective is to present the theme park itself as an installment in the franchise, with its own story (that you, the guest, create as you go) and details, and its own incarnations of the Hero and the Princess.

Hyrule Castle Gardens: Across from the meet-and-greet spaces, archways lead out into a peaceful courtyard space of flower beds, benches, fountains, and topiary sculptures of familiar creatures from the games, backed by a soft music loop of leitmotives for the game series’ many princesses, love interests, and other gentle, feminine characters. This attraction serves the vital function of relaxation, giving guests an opportunity to take a load off for a while in a tranquil setting.

Temple of Time Theatre: In the back corner of Castle Town, alongside one of the walkways leading to Death Mountain, is a sizable performance venue. The daytime program consists of 30- to 45-minute plays summarizng the plots of actual games, both for entertainment and so non-fans can get some idea of what the big deal is. “Here at the Temple of Time, we can see all across the history of Hyrule and beyond and tell you the legends as they actually happened!” While waiting for the show to begin, guests can enjoy a musical playlist alternating the Temple of Time theme with the score from various “telling a story/recapping a legend” cutscenes. In the evenings, some of the seating area is converted into a dance floor and the plays are traded for mini-concerts by local folk rock bands (and of course, each set includes a cover of at least one iconic LoZ score piece).

Shops

6. Pictobox Shop: If you got your picture taken by a park employee near the main entrance, you can swing by here later in the day to buy prints, perhaps in a nice souvenir frame, or installed in a commemorative keychain.

7. Curiosity Shop: The one in Clock Town may be an outlet for goods of shady provenance, but here, it sells a variety of interesting knickknacks and curios, all guaranteed to be above board.

8. Coro’s Lantern and Oil Shop: This cozy shop offers a selection of wax and LED candles, oil lamps and fuel, scented oil diffusers, and even a unique line of Legend of Zelda-inspired scented soy wax jar candles.

9. Enchanted Kingdom Treasures: Another knickknack shop, this one more targeted to fantasy fans. Some of the items here, from dragon figurines to sword-shaped letter openers, are LoZ-branded, while others are more generic.

10. S*T*A*R*S: Inspired by a minigame in Twilight Princess, this dimly lit tent sells a number of light-up souvenirs, laser-cut crystal sculptures with LED-illuminated stands, and similar tchotchkes.

11. Madame Couture’s: Hytopia’s #1 couturier has her own shop branch here, where guests can buy anything from a simple souvenir tee-shirt to a luxurious fantasy gown, and much, much more!

12. Happy Mask Shop: Named for the innocuous shop in Ocarina of Time that became the founding premise for an entire sequel game, this shop sells licensed masks, hats, and other costume pieces to enhance each guest’s heroic adventure.

13. Badge Market: A shop to buy and trade collectible enamel pins, based on the one of the same name in in Hyrule Warriors. Rather than the endless rows of character images one might expect, pin designs in this theme park focus on iconic emblems from the game franchise, such as the royal crest, symbols of the different peoples of Hyrule, medallions and shields, etc.

Eateries

14. Food Stalls: Interspersed among the game booths in the central portion of the square are booths selling the kind of quick bites you can find at carnivals and farmer’s markets.

15. Potion Hut: A juice and smoothie bar/service counter. Choose from among a wide array of bottled beverages—from common soda brands, water, juice, tea, etc. to unique blends labeled as “health potions,” “energy elixirs,” and other in-universe concepts—or have your own favorite mix made to order!

16. Stock Pot Inn: A buffet restaurant with a menu of hearty soups and stews and flavorful salads.

17. Royal Banquet Hall: An elegant table-service restaurant located on the upper level of Hyrule Castle. It’s pricey and requires a reservation, but it’s worth it for the Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom-inspired menu served in a regally appointed dining room with spectacular window and balcony views of the park. The interior décor features tapestries, paintings, and stained-glass windows depicting iconic LoZ scenes rendered in genuine medieval and Renaissance art styles.

Miscellaneous

After dusk, the Triforce fountain in the center of the area puts on a little light show every 15 minutes.

Paths to the other themed areas in the park can be found in the side alleys encircling Market Square, but that’s not the only reason to explore them! They contain many secrets, some of which are related to the phone app-based minigames.

[bonnyhoddie]

Snowballs and butterfly effects are interesting

I work at a night club as, well, whatever they want me to be on, bar, shop, cloaks, entry, etc.

I’ve been working it since October, so, just a month now, a little close to 2. (God damn, already?)

And… Last night I started a silly little snowball effect that exposed some serial creep that kept showing up without anyone really knowing until now, with maybe some exceptions, or maybe it was his first time back in a while.

Anyway, the snowball/butterfly effect in question:

I don’t feel well, but well enough to go in and not have to go back home early ->

Because I don’t feel well, I feel fuzzy headed, like I’m gonna be nauseous, I’m dreading having chest pains I sometimes have (yes I should see a doctor, but I don’t wanna), and I had a few mild dizzy spells and had to lean on the bar at some points, so, due to being overwhelmed from that alone, I was also overwhelmed with INCREDIBLY impatient customers, so I am irritable (we’re allowed to be rude if they’re rude first) ->

I’m serving people, who seem genuinely nice ->

This random old dude (creep) keeps telling me to serve the people I AM ALREADY SERVING ->

I get sick of him so I just go “I know, I know, I know I know I know!” ->

Creep gets mad at me, but I only hear the music and other customers and see his mouth move so I look away to serve them ->

Creep starts pestering the other bar staff for my name and calls me rude (what do you actually expect when you’re in a club? And when you’re annoying the bartender, who is visibly disoriented and not well, I know I was, because I had to be asked if I was okay even before I became irritable.) ->

She refuses to give him my name, so he gets mad at both of us ->

He decides to take pictures of us, but I only notice he’s taking pictures of the other bar staff ->

I go and confront him, “Hey, can you not take pictures of the bar staff please?” And he replies “Do you know who I am? You should know who I am.” He responds with, with the confidence of the owner of the company (spoiler alert, he’s not and I still would call the owner out) ->

I very bluntly tell him “I don’t care, just fucking stop taking pictures of staff.” Because I GENUINELY don’t care who tf he is ->

The other bar staff has to stop me from yelling at the creep, and doesn’t seem to care too much when I explain the situation to her ->

I decide to kinda drop it and sort of but not really let him continue to take pictures, cause, if she doesn’t have a problem with it, and clearly doesn’t want me to argue with some weird dude, I’ll stop making a big deal of it in front of everyone and just let the manager know and have her deal with him after I give his description ->

As I’m messaging the manager, one coworker who joins our bar part way through the night, suddenly yells “he’s taking pictures of me!” And yoinks his phone out of his hand, and, from the wash room I’m watching as he tries to rush into the bar (there’s no door or gate, it’s just walkway) but is then pushed by her and they move away from the bar ->

The night goes on, until it finishes, and, omg, I was either so irritated with impatient people, or really apologetic because I just had a mild dizzy spell while taking an order. ->

When everyone leaves except for staff, the lighting manager (AKA my friend’s older brother) comes up to our bar and starts the conversation with “You know, you were both on that guys phone” ->

ACTUAL creep stuff further down

After, he explains that, not only was there pictures of us from tonight, but ALSO: Pictures of OTHER staff members, both current and ex, probably from a WHILE ago, and I’m assuming mostly female staff; naked girls; and attempts at taking pictures of up girls skirts, the example he mentioned being a failed attempt as all you can see is the ceiling and the lining of a skirt. I also think I vaguely heard the he had the social media’s of some staff members, but I’m not sure ->

He got arrested for it, obviously.

I pissed a guy off into getting himself into a confrontation and then arrested. Biggest brag of the month now, what a glorious start to December /j

[metropolitanmutantofark]

so when I told you guys on Halloween that I was gonna update you on kerblam man soon?

yeah, that was a lie. sorry about that.

HOWEVER, I'm now pleased to present to you the END OF THE KERBLAM MAN SAGA. This one's a DOOZY. I will be COMPLAINING A LOT about MY EX-JOB, my LAST TWO SHIFTS at the company, and the process with which I was FIRED. I hope to instill you with SCHADENFREUDE, at my TERRIBLE SITUATION, and to perhaps give you a MILD CHUCKLE at my ANTICS. This story, particularly in the latter half, may perhaps be read as INCREDIBLY BIASED. In addition, NOBODY CLAPS at the end (sad). You have been WARNED.

We open our story ROUGHLY TWO WEEKS BEFORE HALLOWEEN. Due to Hurricane Milton, ALL of my shifts the week prior had been removed. When we open our story (on my first day back in two weeks (more on that later)), I have to train a new co-worker, which dedicated Kerblam Fans may remember as the person mentioned in October 17th's entry.

The next day, Oct. 18th, 2024, I spend ten minutes too long in the shower and FAIL TO TELL MY BOSS I CAN GO INTO WORK. For those of you unfortunate, less knowledgeable citizens who do not work at Kerblam!, delivery drivers at my ex-DSP are required to check in with dispatch before 9:00 each morning. By the time I picked up my phone to check in, it was 9:12, and I had already received a text saying that my shift had been cancelled.

it is at this point that I piece together my manager's specific disciplinary action policy, which until now I had not been informed about, but had a suspicion of. I'd only ever failed to check in ONCE before this point (Oct. 4th), and when that happened, the rest of my shifts that week mysteriously vanished into the aether because of a quizzical "low volume of packages" despite everyone else also showing up to work.

Bear in mind, I was still checking-in on all of the days I was scheduled to work when I didn't have an assigned route - I just wasn't getting a shift after check-in. I'd wake up at 8:00, check in before showering (having learned my lesson on the 18th), then at 9:40 receive a text on the company app saying I couldn't go into work because of a low volume of packages. This process repeated every day until Halloween, when I FINALLY received a shift.

THIS SHIFT WAS THE SHIFT OF THE DEVIL HIMSELF.

I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW BAD THIS SHIFT WAS.

On Halloween morning, I arrived at the station for my first shift in exactly two weeks. For OBVIOUS HOLIDAY REASONS, there was a very high volume of packages to deliver. For LESS THAN OBVIOUS REASONS, a LARGER THAN AVERAGE NUMBER of the packages I have to deliver are LOOSE PACKAGES - for context, small packages show up in big, brightly-colored bags that we pick up at the station, while larger packages can't fit in those bags and must be toted into the truck by hand, one-by-one. An average shift would have about 9 or 10 (roughly 100-115 stops, depending on the density of the bags you get) of these bags, and roughly 15 or so loose packages. On this particular day, I received 12 bags (roughly 130 stops for this particular route), and 25 loose packages that all have to be delivered to DIFFERENT ADDRESSES.

Unfortunately for me, the larger packages were split pretty evenly between the front half and the back half of my shift, meaning I had various organizational issues because of the giant boxes cluttering up the back of my delivery truck, making the walkway much smaller than my GIANT FEET are accustomed to. I spend the first two hours or so rearranging the packages between stops because of how many large packages I have to retrieve.

It's around this time, a little after clock noon, that it starts raining. Out in the gated community I'm delivering to, the signal was spotty WITHOUT cloud coverage, but because of the weather, I suddenly have to deal with the map bugging out and registering me as wildly off-course, the GPS failing to tell the server that I'm at the address I need to deliver to, AND I have to keep the company cell phone dry so that I can actually keep doing my job.

A couple hours pass. The rain eventually stops - the cloud cover does NOT. Signal troubles would plague me for the rest of the shift.

I eventually decide that I'll take my lunch break at 4:30 and scout out the nearest fast food place. Fortunately for me, this actually does happen on time, which was a rarity for this job. My company policy was a 30-minute lunch break, and two 15-minute breaks on-route. I'd already taken my 15s to try and wait out the rain and the cloud coverage, but this did not happen.

I spend about 10 of those 30 minutes just LOOKING for the McDonald's, which was at the opposite end of the plaza from where my phone's map led me in - obscured behind three separate OTHER fast food places. I order, get my food, and have to drive back to the gated community IMMEDIATELY to save time when my break ends.

5:00 rolls around, and I'm just now starting up my shift again, but when I arrive at the next stop, I'm shocked to see that I'm being given a rescue pickup - for the uninitiated, rescue pickups are when a driver is a few stops behind, and needs help from someone who already completed their route.

This particular rescuer was not very helpful. There was a language barrier between us, so we needed to communicate via phone translator (I want to clarify, I have no problem with this, it just took a lot of time which could've been spent doing work) - and when we did get the point across to each other about what he was picking up, I had nothing to do between the time it took for him to move the packages from my truck into his. He took my company phone to check the packages he needed, and it took another 20 minutes just for him to get the packages into his truck, after which we both had to wait for confirmation from dispatch that he'd picked up the right packages. In sum, 30 minutes have passed.

It is now 5:30. The sun has dipped down into the horizon, behind the treeline surrounding the gated community. What little sunlight that had remained is now vanishing into twilight. The only perceptible colors are the quickly-dimming gradient between azure and goldenrod comprising the sky above, and the deep purplish shadows of objects in front of that skyline.

Due to my rescue taking a half-hour after my break, I was effectively sitting, DOING NOTHING, for a FULL HOUR.

Post-rescue, I still have about 45 stops to complete before 8:00.

7:00 rolls around, and I'm finally let out of the gated community, directly into the adjacent neighborhood. Daylight is but a distant memory, and I have to conduct all of my deliveries in this neighborhood by the illumination of my headlights. My headlights are NOT VERY ILLUMINATING for the purposes of delivering packages.

To make matters worse, traffic is particularly dense in this neighborhood - despite the lack of trick-or-treaters on the streets (due to the noticeable LACK OF LIT STREET LAMPS (due to the damage caused by Hurricane Milton)), cars and trucks are regularly passing by, especially when I have to park on the side of the road. Because of how slow my vehicle has to move in this neighborhood (because of the aforementioned LACK OF LIGHT OR PHONE SIGNAL), I'm essentially a glacier that drivers have to move around. The further I move into this neighborhood, the worse the signal gets due to how thick the treeline becomes.

It's about 7:45, and I'm wrapping up my last 5 or so stops, when my map bugs out. It registers that I've driven FAR past the turning point to my next stop, and before the issue corrects itself, I've now ACTUALLY driven past the turning point. However, the map's re-route would send me all the way to the edge of the neighborhood, which is a time loss I can't afford. I make the decision to take the nearest right turn, and then upon seeing a No Outlet sign, I decide to make a three-point turn because nobody was moving through this street.

For a truck of the size I was driving, you may be surprised that I backed up quite safely, and didn't roll backwards into a ditch.

Looking out over the front of the truck, I could only see an inky black abyss. There is exactly ONE street light lit up, and it's about 40 feet away, much too far to show me anything. However, I'm already committed to the three-point turn, so I pull the wheel as far left as it will go and slowly start to move forward.

If I were a lesser Kerblam Man, I'd have said that at this point the wheel uncontrollably lurched to the right - but I can admit when I make a bad decision, and this was by far the worst decision I could have made in my entire Kerblam career. Not long after I start pulling forwards, the vehicle starts to lean right - the roads in this neighborhood, I realize, are FAR TOO THIN to be performing a three-point turn. In addition, the street is slanted such that I have VERY LITTLE ROOM to move forwards after I back up.

I make this realization FAR TOO LATE.

The truck pulls forward, but in turn it also lists further right, and sooner than I expect, it rolls straight forwards into the ditch. In my blissful ignorance, I see that the truck isn't ENTIRELY in the ditch, and try to back up while I have the chance. Unfortunately, the ground beneath the truck is just soft enough that the tires already begin sinking into the dirt, at which point the back tires are slightly above the ground, leaving me stranded in the middle of the neighborhood, with 2 bars of signal to phone for help.

Dispatch does NOT have their number on-hand in the vehicle, in any way, shape or form. Compounding this issue, all of my communication with them has been done via Breakroom (the app), or when they text me with their personal phones, none of which I remember off the top of my head. Fortunately, it doesn't take me long to remember that they DID update the Breakroom chat feed with their new number - which it takes me 5 minutes or so to scroll back through messages and find.

I text my boss about the issue. 10 minutes go by, and my phone tells me that the messages haven't sent. I delete the messages and decide to call. The connection remains steady enough that I can relay the issue, along with where I am, to the dispatch operator.

The dispatch operator seems to have some issue grasping the fact that I'm in a ditch with no signal, and can't complete my route. He hands me over to the company owner, who's filling in for my manager while he's away.

The company owner does not get back to me immediately. In the meantime, two people walking by have noticed my predicament and offer to help push the truck out. I refuse, but they insist - and there's not much I can do to stop them, since the dispatch operator told me I have to remain in the truck until help arrives. Fortunately, the would-be Good Samaritans realize just how heavy the truck is before very long (especially while it's parked), and stop pushing. They offer to bring a third guy in on it, but warn me that he had a leg injury. I thank them for the offer, but refuse, and I don't see them again.

The company owner finally gets back to me. She asks me about the situation - at which point I have to re-relay to her that I'm stuck in a ditch after doing a three-point turn, that no damages happened to the truck, and that I'm safe but immobilized and unable to deliver packages. I'm grateful that she seems more concerned with my safety than the dispatch operator - but the conversation swiftly turns back to my route. Because of the lack of signal, I can't scan out the packages I'm failing to deliver, nor can I text the images of these packages to dispatch to have them scan out themselves. She asks for pictures of the truck from outside - which I had already taken immediately upon getting stuck - after which I start the lengthy process of uploading these images to text to her. While this is going on, she reiterates that I shouldn't leave the truck, and that a tow truck would be arriving within the hour. This is told to me around 8:30.

No less than 6 people, counting the two strangers from earlier, offer to push or pull the truck out of the ditch in some form. Because help is already on the way, and I don't want anyone to hurt themselves, I have to refuse each time. At about 9:00, a police car shows up, and the officer stepping out approaches the window, asking to hear how this all happened. I regale him with the tale of my failed GPS, the three-point turn, and tell him that I looked very professional as I was driving head-first into the ditch, and that my boss already phoned for a tow truck - after which I ask him if I need to hand him my license.

To my surprise, he says no - apparently, he was only on the lookout for DUI incidents because of the holiday, and as I was VERY coherent and cognizant of where I was and what I was doing, I was dressed in my Kerblam! vest, no property was damaged, and nobody was injured, he didn't suspect me of being under the influence.

Roughly 5 minutes go by, and another car passes by, but stops and pulls in - someone ELSE who wants to pull the truck out of the ditch, or just to TRY pulling the truck out of the ditch. When the officer and I both inform him that a tow truck is on the way, he doesn't leave, but stays on the scene, and near-instantly starts talking the officer up about Joe Rogan's podcast.

To this day, I'm still baffled as to why the officer kept this person around. Not only is he talking about a podcast I have negative interest in listening to, not only is he providing no valuable input to this situation, but he's BLOCKING THE STREET ENTRANCE. If I could time travel for one return trip, I would travel back to that Halloween night, 2024, and ask why that person was even still there. Not to seem attention-hungry, but if I were a more aggressive person, I'd ask "Excuse me? I'M the one who drove head-first into a ditch here, is JOE ROGAN going to help me out of it? NO? THEN KINDLY AWAY WITH YOU" and that would be that.

The tow truck arrived at 9:25. The officer and quite frankly useless citizen left the scene once it was assured that I would be helped out of the pit, and I was out by 9:37. At this point, I drive to a parking lot where i can get signal, scan out my packages, and finally get the green light to return to station.

On my return trip, however, I was hit with another fright - I-75, the interstate between the gated community and my station, had (and possibly still has) TWO LANE CLOSURES, because of ROAD WORK. What should have been a 20-minute drive, at most, took a full hour, and I only manage to return to the station at 10:40, though I spend this time on the road thankful that I'm being paid to sit still in traffic and listen to Critical Role.

I finally clock out at 10:53, after which I'm on my way home.

I don't even try to go to bed on time, and I don't set my alarm, but I wake up at 8:00 regardless. When I check in for my shift on Nov. 1st, they inform me that there's a "low volume of packages", at which point I'm just glad to have the day free.

A week passes, and my next shift comes on November 6th. To my surprise, this shift goes off without a hitch. I still need a rescue because I'm a week out of practice, but I'm pretty happy with my work.

The following morning, I open Breakroom, and find that all of the chat rooms have disappeared. Whenever I try to open the app again, I can't get in. I text "Hey, I can't get into Breakroom to check in, please help" to three different managers before I finally get a response - "Hello The Metropolitan Mutant of Ark, please check your company email."

My company email contains a message informing me that I'm being fired, and that "your last shift will be on November 7th" - that very day's date.

I quickly put two and two together and realized that even if I WERE to have a shift, it would most certainly be called off due to "low volume of packages". This would be what happened, but I was instructed to come in anyway because I had to turn in my vest, badge, and other company property.

When I asked why I was being fired at the station, I was told it was NOT about the ditch incident on Halloween, which would have been my first guess.

No, they could care less about the ditch incident - they did say safety was an issue - but primarily, they were concerned about my PRODUCTIVITY.

To tell you guys exactly how LAUGHABLE this reason for termination is, I was told on October 3rd by the dispatch operator that I was one of their best drivers. But if you don't believe me when I tell you that, let me show you the calendar of events for October, including each day I worked!

You can see some colors there, and I'll explain what they mean: GREEN: I had a shift assigned on this day, and I worked all 10 hours. BLUE: Hurricane Milton landed on Oct. 9, meaning I couldn't work all throughout that week due to harsh weather conditions and the subsequent repairs. I don't hold it against my company that I couldn't work on days when that would've probably killed me. RED: I failed to check in (Oct 4, Oct 18), or I was not given a shift due to a "Low volume of packages" (translation: my manager took the day off as disciplinary action for failing to check in on an earlier day). This also covers November 1 and 2, but I forgot to color those in.

CAN YOU SEE AN ISSUE WITH ANYTHING IN THIS PICTURE?

CAN YOU SEE, PERHAPS, A LOGICAL REASON I MIGHT NOT BE SO PRODUCTIVE TO THE COMPANY?

AS YOU CAN PROBABLY TELL, I WAS ASSIGNED A 150-STOP ROUTE WHEN I WAS TWO WEEKS OUT OF PRACTICE. ON THE 17TH, I WASN'T EVEN THE ONE DRIVING, I WAS TRAINING A NEW COWORKER.

AND THEY HAD THE NERVE TO TELL ME I WAS THE WEAK LINK THERE.

needless to say, I'm never taking another Kerblam! delivery-driver job for as long as I live, even for the $18.50/hr that this job gave me. I continually found myself tired at home and dreaded going into work, more so than when I was working other strenuous or long-hour jobs. It's tied with my first job (where I would often get my schedule ON THE DAY OF) as the worst-managed job I've ever experienced.

I wanted to yell at my manager about this at the time, seeing as he was the one who decided depriving someone of working hours is a good punishment for failing to check in, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Looking back on it, I definitely should have, even if he was being "calm" about it.

When I got home, my whole family clapped.

Yeah, that's right, I lied to you earlier, everyone DID CLAP IN THE END.

YEAH, NOBODY GOES HOME HAPPY WITH THIS STORY!

[princeraw1]

Rent by owner

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[eivor-thorne-ffxiv]

He was an amalgamation of rage. He always had been. There was nothing kind about Eivor when someone had incurred his wrath. While he and Cordelia would deny up and down that there were no feelings involved and his connection with the woman was one of an owed debt, he personally couldn’t deny the pang that had swelled in his chest upon learning that Damien Gray had laid his hands on Cordelia. While Eivor had been assured that Cordelia had done significant damage to the little lord, it didn’t placate the hulking Ala Mhigan who had been away from the estate to tend to Cordelia’s business. 

It had been several days on the return journey and Eivor had traded out a lighter selection of armor for the thick furs and leathers that he wore underneath protective layer of plate armor. Despite the abundance of chocobos in Ishgard, the large man had still favored a horse and his dappled gray steed led the pack that had swiftly made their way through the large iron gates and up the gravel pathway that led to the large doors of the estate. Eivor had not wasted any time in jumping down from the saddle and handling the leather reins off to another armor clad individual as he made his way through the large doors.

“Where?” He grunted in greeting to the female attendant that had rushed to the door to greet whomever it was. “Her room,” was all that was offered in response as the sound of his thick leather boots stomped against the stone walkway and he recounted the familiar path to her quarters. He hadn’t bothered to knock as he twisted the handle and allowed himself entry to the doorway. “Where is he?” Eivor asked as he drew in a large breath which had made an evident rise and fall to his muscular shoulders.

 “His estate.” Her voice was low, the tone holding little emotion as her attention kept to the reading.

“And you’ve no drive to wipe that pathetic estate off of the maps of Ishgard?” Eivor asked with an infuriated tone as he had stepped further into the room.

There was a pause in his demeanor as she had seemed so…plain regarding it. Where Eivor was bottled rage waiting to combust, Cordelia had found herself to be composed and idle. He would’ve brought the sky down upon Damien and not thought twice about it though the woman seemed to not be bothered by the situation.

It may have been a surprising sight to find Cordelia lounging comfortably within a large chair that was settled before the fireplace within her chambers. The loud echoing footsteps gave Eivor’s approach away and despite her knowing of his arrival, the woman remained focused on the book in hand. Ebony locks fell unruly over her shoulders compared to how she typically kept it up off her back. “Did you acquire the shipment? We are set to have everything manufactured and inventoried to be sent to Lady Cress’ ship to be sold and I want it all to be done smoothly.”

He had brought himself further into the room so that he could move to stand before the chair that she had comfortably in. “You have no need to question the status of the shipment and yet you do. Everything is moving ahead as planned and does not require your attention yet you give it weight when you should be dealing with other things.”

She allowed him to speak, her gaze still tracing the words on the parchment of the book, flipping the page once to allow for the time he needed to continue. Once it was clear he was done, Cordelia inhaled deeply with slow intentions and gently closed the book. Great care was given to this particular tome, having only recently received it from Vahalia during their visit and setting aside to the table next to her was done so just as carefully. The breath was released with a soft huff as she finally looked up to Eivor, the events of her altercation with Damien still evident on the blemishes of her skin that she hardly attempted to hide now. “My attention is exactly where it should be. My energy will not be wasted on Damien Gray. He is being handled in my own way.”

“Handled in your own way?” Eivor asked in disbelief. “You let the little lord and his staff just walk out of here with all of their belongings unharmed and now he’s in the safety and comfort of his estate. None of us know what he’s planning or who he means to rally.” Eivor had offered a flippant wave as he had huffed in annoyance. His ire for Cordelia would be misplaced but it was evident that her lack of emotion with the situation was a source of frustration for him. His ice colored hues had taken note of the marring to her facial features as his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth in frustration.

As he continued on, Cordelia’s own frustrations began to grow and upon his final word, she pushed forcefully from her chair. “Apologies, Eivor, when did you become lord of this house? Who made it so that the intricacies involved you and your opinion on what I should be doing?” Her voice had raised a bit now from her prior calm demeanor, but even still she was a far cry from the anger that had boiled over a few nights before.

It mattered little that she stood, though, their height difference still required her to crane her sore neck to keep his gaze. Eivor’s gaze had narrowed down at her. He was a hulking statue of a man and rigged in a full display of armor would only lead him to be more intimidating to the regular passerby. Cordelia was not a regular passerby and it was clear that he had forgotten his place of servitude within her circle.

“I have eyes watching him, the information will be fed back to me when it is learned, if you must know. And for the record-" she paused, pushing by him to cross the room to her bedside table where a carafe of water sat. Pouring the glass, she brought it to her lips, allowing it to linger there as she finished her thought. “- he hardly left unharmed.”

He’d not reply to her and simply turned to watch her traipse across the room as he folded his large arms across his chest. The metal scraped against one another in an obnoxious scratch. “The missive made me aware that Lord Gray had been harmed as well.” He’d note with a clenched jaw. “But it seems as though I’ve misplaced my need to care for your wellbeing and should only focus on the wellbeing of your wealth until my debt has been paid.”

“Your care can be placed where ever you wish for it to so long as it does not get in the way of my work.” Her words came out in ice as she set the now emptied glass back to the bedside table.

It was rare these days that Eivor wound up on this side of her ire though it was clear that no one was free of the blast radius that Damien had created. “Then I needn’t get in the way of your work.” He’d reply with a flat tone as his arms uncrossed.

“You were brought here to settle a debt, to aid me as repayment for the items you stole from us. Do what you will with your emotions or need for feeling protective but do not forget that your place here is not as Lord of this house, for I do not need one."

He’d eye her for a moment beneath knit brows before he would inhale sharply and make his way towards the door of her quarters. “I’ve no need to be a lord. Hell, this wealth like this means fuck all to me. I’ll see myself to the quarters with the rest of the servants.”

Cordelia sighed heavily, walking toward the door as he did so though with a bit quicker pace in attempts to beat him there. When she did so, despite only barely, a hand lifted to press on the door to deny Eivor the ability to open it. “I didn’t say you had to leave.” She dropped her hand, adjusting now so that her back leaned against the wood. A long silence fell between the two as she simply stared up at him, her calm exposure returning.

An exhaled huff of frustration would come from the man’s frame as she had moved to beat him to the door and block his exit. While Eivor was entirely capable of moving Cordelia out of his way should he choose to exit, he instead allowed her to place her body against the wooden door to prevent him from moving forward. He’d not respond to her comment about leaving and instead clenched his jaw as his nostrils flared in slight annoyance. The change from his usual life to one within the Gray Estate was one Eivor still was adjusting to. He was used to living his life on a ship. Air or sea mattered little and he’d spend his nights under the stars. He couldn’t fathom the idea of sleeping under the stars in this dreadfully cold landscape. He had no love for the frozen tundra of a city.

“What would you have me do? Expel unnecessary resources to get revenge on him? I’ve taken steps to have him watched so, if my connection does his job well, we won’t be taken by surprise. I have no interest in wasting more time dedicating my attention to Damien Gray.”

“Myself and another man or two could make quick work of Damien Gray and his lackeys,” Eivor gruffly offered. “You’re sitting on a hope that your connection does his job well. No guarantee that he will.”

“Do you not see the issues that could arise from taking this head on in such a way?” She asked him, her head tilting just slightly, gazing up with an expectant look on her features. Arms rose to cross over her abdomen as she released a heavy sigh.” Not everything needs to be handled with brute force, Eivor. Some instances require tact, and this is one such instance.”

“What issues?” He’d quip back in a hastened manner. “Damien Gray attempted to take your life. A very clear attempt was made by the marks on your neck and when you defended yourself with the means that were near you, he beat you. I don’t know many that would refute that truth.” Eivor had offered a gruff rumble in follow up as he afforded himself a step back to fold his arms over his chest once more.

“The issues of too many eyes looking at me when I need them to be looking elsewhere.” Cordelia took a deep breath, her chest rising slowly as she attempted to ease her frustration that he wasn’t understanding. Whispers swept through Ishgard in waves following Ambrose’s death and while they had quietened for the most part, Cordelia still received the occasional sideways glance when she ventured outside of the estate into the city. “The rumor mill can be vile and work well against our favors, which is something I am trying to avoid and doing more harm to Damien Gray by my hands or by my command would hurt me more than help.”

Eivor couldn’t entirely understand her fixation with the rumor mill. There was little need for such things on ships. Sure, sailors gossiped but they were also just as likely to send a fist across the side of your face as a means of hashing things out instead of creeping behind someone’s back to spew malice and discontent. His icy hues would remain on her as his eyes rolled slightly. “I don’t understand this society,” he’d admit with a slight scoff.

She lifted a hand to his cheek, patting gently with the flash of a smile that faded as quickly as it showed. “Respectfully, dear, you don’t need to.” Maybe she was right. Maybe he didn’t need to understand it and maybe he didn’t want to understand it but that didn’t mean he was free from frustration. His brows would relax as his gaze followed her from the door to her place on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t moved from his spot near the doorway but he also hadn’t reached for the handle. “You need anything then?” 

Her hand fell back to her side as she pushed from the door to return back to her bedside, finding herself perched on the edge of the bed. With a heavy sigh, Cordelia held his gaze plainly as she weighed her options. Slowly her steel hues moved along the height of him down his body before lifting to look back at him again. “Not with you in that armor.” She stated coolly before laying back on the bed, never breaking her connection to him.

collab writing with the lovely, @promethea-silk

[bluenpinkcastle]

20240122: the History of LEGO Castle day 022. 6074-1 / 10039-1 Black Falcon's Fortress (1986 / 2002, 429 pieces, 93 different parts) The Black Falcon's Fortress was the largest Black Falcon's castle released until the Creator 3-in-1 Medieval Castle in 2021, and it's only slightly bigger than 6073-1 Knight's Castle. The Black Falcon's Fortress is a light gray castle with two towers in the front on either side of a front gate with a black drawbridge. The front towers use the new 3x3x6 corner wall, as do the back corners of the castle. The second floor of the castle has a small covered walkway with the brand new yellow 2x5x6 castle wall panel with black lattice work and a black sloped roof. This is also the first non-symetrical castle so far. The "Yellow" Castle (375-2 / 6075-2), the Knight's Castle (6073-1), and the King's Castle (6080-1) have all had a front gate tower and two matching towers at the right and left corners of the castle, but the Black Falcon's Fortress has the two towers in front making up the larger front gate and the off-center alcove in the rear. The set comes with six Black Falcons minifigures. Four of the minifigures have the standard blue Black Falcon torso with black arms and the silver and black halved falcon pattern on a triangular shield outline with plain black legs and black helmets, though two are archers and two spear wielders. The other two minifigures are both knights, one with a black torso and black arms with the silver breastplate print and one with a blue torso and black arms with the silver breastplate print, and both have black legs with red belts. The knights each have one horse, so one white horse with a red saddle and one black horse with a blue saddle. Unique parts in this set include the blue 2x2 hard plastic Black Falcons flag and the yellow 2x5x6 castle wall panel with black lattice work. The light gray corner wall with dark gray stone print was only found in two other sets, 6062-1 Battering Ram (1987) and 6077-2 Forestmen's River Fortress (1989). While the original 6074-1 was released in 1986, the LEGO Group decided to re-release it as part of the Legends theme in 2002. The only real differences between the sets are: the shiny dark gary sword becomes dark gray swords, switching out the 1x1 plates with thin U clips to thick U clips, and switching out the one clip blue and red saddles for two clip saddles. Probably my absolute favorite part of this entire castle is how this is the one castle so far with an entry gate the carts up until this point will actually fit through, as the drawbridge is wider. Overall, though, this castle is such a beautiful design. It's fun to play with and very easy to close, pick up, and move around. I truly enjoy that about these early castles - how easy they are to move, so you can adjust your kingdom much easier, or even move the castle from active play to a shelf. Inventory lists for this castle can be found on BrickLink or Rebrickable and a free download of the instructions can be found at ToysPeriod. If you want to know more about the designer, Daniel August Krentz, BrickSet did a really nice tribute and has a full list of everything he designed. Additionally, 10039-1 was included in a LEGO Legend Castle Collection (K10039) from 2003 alongside 10000-1 Guarded Inn (re-release from 2001) and 3739-1 Blacksmith Shop (from 2002).

[allhallowsthemepark]

All Hallows - Pumpkin Acres

Moving clockwise around the entry plaza, the next gate from Trick-or-Treat Village leads to Pumpkin Acres, a tiny agricultural town somewhere in the American Midwest (or is it the South, or Appalachia, or...?) during the fall harvest season. The gateway is asymmetrical, with a white fence bordering a cornfield on one side and a small green bearing a painted wooden sign welcoming visitors to the town on the other. The base of the sign is heaped with fall produce—not only pumpkins, but baskets of apples and flint corn, squashes and gourds, and sheaves of wheat.

The walkway leads directly to the town square, which is designed in a typical “historic downtown” style, with buildings reflecting a countrified version of the architecture of the early 1900s. The colors tend toward earth tones with white trim, and some of the buildings are very obviously converted barns. Every storefront window display is decorated with simple jack-o-lanterns, autumn leaf garlands, and other seasonal accents.

Near the center of the square is an old-fashioned message board. Attentive guests can peruse the board to pick up on some of the area lore (see Characters, below).

On the far side of the square from the entry point is an open field in which a “Harvest Fair” has been set up, with a few simple carnival rides and game booths.

The “period setting” of Pumpkin Acres is wholly contemporary, but the town is a bit behind the times in many ways. Everything looks at least somewhat old, but carefully maintained to last. The ambient music loop consists of country-western, bluegrass, and blues music, some of it explicitly Halloween-themed while other tunes are merely dark and somber in tone.

Characters

The characters of Pumpkin Acres are just plain folks...or are they? The key players are as follows:

Granny McGillicuddy: By any measure the matriarch of the town, Granny is pushing 80 but still spry and working her pumpkin farm, which produces some real monsters every year—one just won the top prize at the County Fair and can be viewed on her property as part of the Pumpkin Acres Haunted Hayride. She also owns the town's biggest restaurant, although she leaves the running of it to younger relatives these days.

Harry Palmer: The local kook, who recently spent the night in the drunk tank for an unspecified offense (again). He runs the petting farm and loves his animals so much you might well suspect him of being one of them!

Woody Braxton: The young man who runs the bookshop (and the public library), Woody is a self-certified expert in cryptids and other paranormal mysteries. Not that he believes any of that stuff, mind you—he just finds it a fascinating topic!

Jeannie Braxton: Woody's younger sister (late teens/early 20s), who does believe that stuff and is constantly getting into mild scrapes trying to prove it's real.

Attractions

Harry Palmer's Petting Farm: Come on in and meet Harry's beloved animals! There's Elvira the black sheep, Beelzebub the Manx Loaghtan goat, Midnight the Ayam Cemani chicken, and quite a few regular critters as well. For a small fee, you can even feed them, and despite some of the nastier rumors in town, they do not eat the souls of the living.

Swamp Boats: One of the more peaceful rides in All Hallows, a simple outdoor boat ride through a swampy landscape. There's eerie mist, mysterious sounds from distant sources, and some of the trees look a little like threatening monsters, but there are no overt jump-scares or other frights—the horror here is whatever guests bring with them and project into their surroundings.

Pumpkin Acres Haunted Hayride: The signature attraction of Pumpkin Acres, a track-bound dark ride with “haycart” vehicles that seat about 30. The haycart travels past scenes of fields and wooded spots containing tableaux implied to be built by the town residents for the occasion. They start out benign (cute scarecrows posed with farm equipment, obviously fake graveyards with ghost and skeleton props), but as the ride progresses, the tableaux become eerier and evidence mounts that something genuinely supernatural is going on. The climax of the ride occurs in Granny McGillicuddy's field, when her prize pumpkin suddenly lifts up off the ground as the head of a massive spirit-possessed scarecrow!

Corn Maze: A traditional corn maze—just a winding path through the stalks, with a motion-activated bogeys in strategic locations. Of course, if real corn were used then the maze would only be available in the appropriate season, so the actual structure is artificial cornstalks backed up by painted fencing to give a similar visual impression.

The Pumpkin Acres Town Fair: This is the name given to a collection of small attractions at one end of the town. There are simple carnival rides, the sorts of things that can be folded up and transported via tractor-trailer: a Tilt-a-Whirl with seats that look like caramel apples (the stick is the backrest), a “Witch's Cauldron Bounce,” a miniature spook house, and a pony ride. There are also some equally simple carnival game booths and a small stage where guests can sit on bales of hay and enjoy a bluegrass band.

Shops and Eateries

6. Pumpkin Patch: During the fall, guests can get their pumpkins for carving right at the theme park! As with other unwieldy purchases, they can be reserved and paid for up front, and then picked up on the way out. Decorative gourds, flint corn, and other attractive fall produce items are also available.

7. Country Costumes: The Pumpkin Acres costume shop offers costumes based on a variety of rural and farm archetypes. Some of these include: Cowboy/cowgirl, farm animals of various types, farmer, fruits and vegetables, granny/grandpa, pumpkin, ragdoll, redneck, scarecrow (friendly and scary varieties), and werewolf.

8. Sewing & Craft Shop: On the other hand, guests might prefer to get the supplies to make their own costumes. Due to space limitations, the stock of fabrics is not as large as it would be in a standard fabric store, and the actual bolts are not kept on the sales floor but in a cutting room in the back, with guests making their selections based on sample swatches. Patterns, notions and Halloween-themed craft kits can be taken right off the shelves.

9. Braxton Books: A small bookshop focusing on paranormal subjects and horror novels. Includes a reading nook for those who want to peruse before buying.

10. Granny McGillicuddy's Pie Barn: A counter-service restaurant with country-style cooking—fried chicken and chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, biscuits and gravy, and several flavors of pie, including pumpkin, apple, and boysenberry. Steamed vegetables and other less-heavy dishes round out the menu. Beverages include the standard array of soft drinks, bottled beer (limit one per customer), and hot apple cider.

Other

The back corner (on the right side, from the perspective of someone heading in from the entry plaza) of Pumpkin Acres is thickly planted with trees and shrubs, with a path that ultimately leads into Goblin Woods. (Marked on the map with a *.)