It's so horrible that we live in a world where I'm afraid to call the police for help. So here the situation my up stairs neighbors have a dog. Now because my ceiling is their floor I can here the dog playing with it's ball, them play fetch with the dog, I even can hear the dog's tail against the floor when it wagging. But early this evening I kept hearing sounds of distress in same area, I hadn't heard my neighbors come home yet. So I was scared it was the dog. But what if one of the my neighbors did come home it was them?
Now here comes what made me scared to call the police. My neighbors are a very sweet African-American couple, who live with their dog. The last thing I wanted to was call 911 for help, only to have something horrible happen because of the police. That's all that kept going through my mind. I didn't know what to. I don't have either of their numbers. I don't have the ability to climb the stairs to their apt, thanks to arthritis in my hips. I did trying yelling up to them but I didn't get any answer.
In vain of anything else to do because I kept hearing the same sound I did call 911. Thank goodness everything was fine, it turn out the neighbors were home. The dog was having doggy dreams, kicking his feet and legs against the floor. I felt silly after I found out what it was. I apologize to my neighbors, explained everything. They were actually very kind about it all, now I have their number. In case I think the dog dreams are something else again.
No one should feel fear to call the police for help, but so many do. I didn't want anything to happen to my neighbors, no one wants anything bad to happen to our friends, people's families, their neighbors, their communities. I don't know how we change it, all I know is it makes me sick to my stomach.
This time it was ok this time, I'm so grateful for that.
Do you know who's also 15 has a final form values friendship above most things wants to keep everyone safe and has fought and won against multiple gods or god-like entities???
anyway I firmly believe a little bit of Sonic could have saved Chuuya.
yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always.
in my mind dean was always supposed to get older and become the new bobby. like ok you're a hunter, maybe a little new to the scene and still figuring things out. and you're tracking down a werewolf, easy case. except some things don't line up quite right and now you're thinking it might not actually be a werewolf. so you ask around a hunter's bar and they all say the same thing. go to this one bunker in the middle of nowhere in kansas
and you're like sure what the hell. you're stumped anyway, might as well check it out. maybe it's a weapons storehouse or something. but then you get there and there's a doorbell and a bee-shaped welcome mat out front and you're starting to think you've got the wrong place. the door swings open and there's this middle aged guy with a robe and batman pyjama bottoms. and he laughs at the look on your face and tells you to come in, he doesn't bite. not since he got that vampire cure, anyway. you're not sure what to make of that last part but he winks at you when he says it so you figure he's joking. maybe.
he gives great advice about hunting everything under the sun and if you stick around long enough he'll go on and on about how he saved the world at least five times. ok sure. you don't want to be rude so you just sit there and sip your coffee politely while he talks about some guy called chuck and how much of a bitch he is. and another guy who's aged a little more gracefully comes padding down the hallway in a metallica t-shirt and rolls his eyes. has he told you about tvland yet? ('i was just getting to that part!')
if you go to the basement you'll find shotguns filled with salt, wooden stakes, holy water, and demon-killing bullets for sale. and if you're lucky the witch who sells hex bags might be around. low-grade curses only, of course. you better leave the powerful stuff to the professionals. and she'll get in trouble if she gives you anything stronger, not that she can't be persuaded. a girl's gotta make a living after all and she's always encouraged eager new witches. it's worked out pretty well for her so far. and then a guy you swear is twice your height will raise an eyebrow at her and insist she only sell the weaker hex bags, please. you don't need any more witches in your coven, rowena. you've got plenty
pagan god giving you trouble? there's a man who swings by every once in a while who knows how to deal with those. give him some candy or a fun magic relic and he might help you out. it depends. he's a little picky about dishing out advice and he likes to play favorites. and if you've got a demon problem they can give you the number of a guy who swears up and down that he used to be the king of hell. but you've seen him walking around with a purse-sized terrier tucked under his arm and a dozen more following him so you're not really sure if you believe him
idk i like to think that dean got to grow old and retire. that doesn't mean he stops helping people, it just means he hangs up his coat and becomes an old man who rambles on and on about 'back in my day' and makes a dent in his leather armchair. there's a foosball table where the dungeon used to be and sam complains about beer bottles being everywhere and it becomes a safe haven for anyone still fighting the good fight. it's just that for dean and the rest of team free will the fight is over. they're done hunting now
Cosette is better than me because if my weirdo recluse father suddenly showed up with a massive, festering burn scar acting completely unconcerned and telling me to call a vet for him instead of a human doctor, I would have simply started killing.
There is no trepidation in the voice of the Sovereign as he speaks, only pure contempt that bleeds into the very air until it chills their lungs – there will be no penance here. No redemption. He stands before them with apathetic indifference, and with his hands he shall draw judgement upon sinners without a shred of mercy, so heavy his gaze they cannot move. This land shall become the grave of gods – no, not gods, Archons. Transcendent..and fallible.
Horribly, humanly fallible.
What a cruel thing to be – neither god nor mortal, in the end. Their Authority a stolen, coveted thing, so easily taken in a blaze of fury that singes them to the bone, in winds so harsh it tears the breath from their lungs from the sheer pressure, in the way their hairs stand on end as if lightning shall smite them for their arrogance. Judgement has come for them, in the end, and no plea nor bargain can save them from it's justice – they shall be judged and they shall be sentenced.
"..I was willing to put aside your past transgressions – forgive your thievery of the Authority that is not your own – to see Their vision of harmony come to reality." He speaks with nothing but clarity and calmness that unsettles – as gentle as the serene pond illuminated by gentle sunlight, ducks drifting across its pristine surface and creating faint, brief ripples. Calm as the tide as it recedes from the shoreline. His eyes speak of the tempest – the raging winds and the harsh waves that will crash and break and ravage. There is a fury so turbulent it makes the wind go still, the earth erode and the water recede. "You do not deserve repentance when Their body bears the marks of your transgressions," There will be no mercy. They try to plead, to beg and bargain but they cannot speak – their cries go unheard just as Theirs were ignored. A horrifying irony.
"Self proclaimed Acolytes, all, yet you bathe in Their most divine blood and call yourselves Saints," He breathes in, taps his cane against the hardened earth, and holds his head high as he meets their eyes unflinching. Mercy, they think, for we are innocent – we did not know. "Sinners, to the very last. You tear at the flesh of the most Divine like wild dogs to sate your own hunger, for you know nothing else."
His voice is the toll – it echoes like the ringing of a bell, calling them to the water like a siren. It beckons, it demands, and it will not wait. The water recedes and he stands like a beacon among the shores – a bastion of light where it has been snuffed out.
His eyes witness their sins – heavy a burden he bears as he witnesses that which they must atone for. The cruel hand of an Archon as it spills the Divine blood of the very earth beneath their feet. He sees Their agony, feels it to the last. Every bolt of wind, every jagged rock, every bolt of lightning. Every single one he feels until he weeps – for Them, he weeps.
His left hand renders judgement – guilty. Their transgressions are grave, and no redemption can be found for such horrors they have inflicted upon the mortal vessel of the Divine. They have felt their sorrow, have felt Their pain, and he has found them guilty.
And with his right hand..he enacts justice.
"Let your sins be your anchor – let your sins weigh heavy upon your shoulders so that you may feel a brief flicker of the agony you have inflicted upon Them," He lifts his cane with a solemn resolve, tears staining the scales upon his cheeks. "I shall weep for you, too, for no other shall do so in my stead. Return, wretched beasts, to the earth and let it nourish Them where you did not."
And at his call, the waves devour.
Entire cities, entire nations – those who bear the sin shall drown in it's wake, dragged to the lowest depths where even the sun cannot breach. It takes and takes, claws and tears and rips at the bodies of the damned – it devours the world, impartial and unrelenting in it's judgement.
And Neuvillette alone weeps.
◇
"Neuvillette? Are you..crying?" Their voices makes him startle back to awareness, the briefest flicker of shame welling up in the empty space of his chest as he wipes away the tears that roll down his cheeks like drops of rain.
"It..appears so. Forgive me, most Divine, it seems I had a brief lapse in focus." He clears his throat, straightens his back, tries to ignore the pit in his stomach as he watches Their lips pull into a smile all too happy. He..he should be happy too, shouldn't he? He should. If They are happy, so should he be. His lips curl into a smile that doesn't feel like it fits on his face, but he delights in the way They smile wider when he does.
They approve, and that's all that matters, isn't it?
"It won't happen again, I assure you."
Their approval is all that matters.
So why does his chest ache so badly? He did as They commanded, he removed the stain upon Teyvat and ensured Their safety.
So why does he feel such sorrow?
The thought gnaws at him like the tides erode at stone, yet he cannot bear to burden his Creator with such..nonsense.
He will bear this weight alone until the day the waves come to claim him, too.
Hey do you think ya can explain Barnaby and his illusion smoke a bit? It seems really cool and I don't remember if ya talked about it in depth before
sure! this got a bit longer than i expected!
so i was thinking that Barnaby seems like more of a hands-off kinda guy when it comes to altercations. would rather sit back and make funny commentary! so if he Had to get involved, i imagine it would be from a distance and still in an Entertaining Way!
thus - illusion magic! for this au i've been picturing that he got his paws on some illusionary herb in his early teens. for making people laugh, you know! and help out with the farm - illusions could distract animals, convince them to move on to different pastures, calm the chickens for egg-collecting, etc!
Ms. Beagle didn't really approve, since smoking is harmful, but lucky for the both of them this particular plant doesn't deal as much damage when smoked as normal smoking materials would - like tobacco! something to do with the magic properties! so Barnaby mostly used it for chores (when his mama wasn't paying attention, ofc - it's still a bad habit in her eyes) and entertainment purposes.
how it works: on its own, it doesn't do much when burned. it's not like illusions will waft out of the pipe's bowl, or that sniffing it will give someone hallucinations. in order for it to work properly, the user has to inhale properly, form the Intent of what the illusion should be / look like / behave, then purposefully blow the smoke out with that thought firmly in mind. the reach of the smoke depends on the force of Intent, and the intensity depends on the amount inhaled. those that breathe it in / are surrounded by it will see hallucinations of whatever Barnaby - or whoever the user is - wants them to! it can be literally anything! whether or not the target is fooled depends entirely on the individual, but the herb is potent enough that most are convinced that what they "see" is real (auditory hallucinations only occur if the target breathes in the smoke)
upsides: this form of magic is great for distractions, cover, deescalation, and that kind of thing. if needed, Barnaby could stop a fight with one exhale! it's a pretty powerful trick! it also means that Barnaby has built up a tolerance to illusion magic over the years, so where most of the party would be tricked, Barnaby would be unfazed. the only one with total immunity to the form of magic is Wally!
downsides: if Barnaby uses too much in too short of a time, it will get to him. and since he breathes in the largest amount - undiluted at that - it can fuck him up! using it sparingly / using repeated small amounts doesn't do anything. the most it will do is make him feel slightly untethered, but he has an easy time ignoring it / shaking it off.
in mild cases of the magic getting to him, it's like a bad trip. his proprioception is messed with (basically he gets uncharacteristically clumsy & off-balance), he feels like he's falling, anxiety spikes, and his vision is just... off! there are blind spots (im talking actual blind spots, not spots of black), things are moving in ways that they shouldn't, he has mild auditory hallucinations. the others can help ground him by talking to him, touching him, and confirming what's real and what isn't.
in bad cases, it's like that but 10 times worse. on top of all of the previous symptoms being worsened, he gets extremely vivid hallucinations, and they're very often not fun! it's a simultaneous feeling of dying, going insane, and not knowing what the fuck is going on. Barnaby loses sense of where he is, who's where, what's happening. he can get lost in the hallucinations - he has no way to know that they aren't real. in these terrible trips, no one can really help him. they can't get through the hallucinations, and if they do, the magic morphs Barnaby's perception of them and they end up adding to the effects. honestly the best thing for him is to let him rest somewhere with as little sensory input as possible & leave him be until he starts to come down. physical contact does help, since Barnaby understands on an instinctive level that illusions can't touch him, but it doesn't help half as much as it does w/ the mild trips. and again, the presence of someone can make the hallucinations worse.
so! suffice to say! he doesn't like using the herb all that often, and it's why he Stays Out Of It unless absolutely needed. he has two pouches of the herb - one with the strong stuff, reserved for emergencies / one with just a tiny bit of it mixed in with Barnaby's own personal blend for recreational/everyday use. (he also has an emergency tobacco stash in his pack, but that's only for when he's completely out of his usual blend <3)
extra lil scribble that didn't make it into the lil doodle post... i broke his wrist...
Listen, I know I'm the weird one for thinking about it in such a methodical way, but I think that if you're going to criticize someone, you should at least be aware of why, specifically, you're doing it. Are you trying to help that person see something in another light? Are you trying to inform others about a prevalent issue or mindset? Are you really upset with them, or is there a larger issue at play? How will criticizing this person change them, others, and/or yourself?
Like, I understand that's a kind of a robotic way of thinking, but taking a moment to think before I interact with anyone, especially strangers, has saved my bacon more than once. And, like, if you're just doing it to be mean, why are you even doing it? You obviously can, but why not use that time being happy
(short continuation to the prompt I wrote, which is linked below. I thought I was done with this, but then @victoria-has-no-secret and @bluerosefox had some ideas to incorporate into it. Screenshots of said ideas are also below but are sprinkled throughout the post too.)
(*) = Me building off of other ideas
TW: mentions of animal death
← previous
✦
After the whole fiasco with the Justice League, Danny gets an idea. Not very many people actually know about Laika, at least from what he could see of the majority of the Justice League who had never learned about her. Although, to be fair, a lot of them come from different planets. Either way, it gives Danny the idea to create a YouTube channel starring Laika to teach the people of Earth about the pup.
The channel immediately garners attention from all around the world, and even winds up on a couple of news stations too! It grows so much that Danny decides to expand further than just Laika, but to the other things that were sent into space in the quest for knowledge: The space rovers as well as many other animals.
Laika even leads Danny to them as he ventures further into space with a specially made camera that can withstand traversing space and the differing atmosphereic conditions of other planets. He manages to find every single one of them, discovering that maybe Laika hadn't been as alone as he'd first thought as he watches and records her playing with the spirits (imprints?) of the rovers, chimps, mice, and many other animals haunting the endless void of the cosmos.
People back on earth are going wild with the knowledge that their hopes, thoughts, and feelings helped to give life to beings that had long been dead/stopped working. They have no idea what to feel about this new information except an amalgamation of pure awe, curiosity, joy, guilt, and sadness. They still mourned the loss of Laika, the rovers, and everyone before and after them, but knowing that their existence wasn't completely lost soothed an ache many didn't know they carried with them when they were there to witness the beginning of such astronomical leaps in technology.
To also know that out of the many stars shooting across the sky, one of them might be Laika happily racing amongst the stars with her friends brought many to tears. At every opportunity, they wished for the sweet pup's happiness and the continuing health of their own furry companions down on Earth with them. They also wished that upon the eventuality that they have to part with their companions that maybe a few of them would join Laika and her friends in stars to keep them company for many years to come.
Although many of these wishes were heard by Desiree, she refused to touch such hopeful and well-meaning wishes for fear of twisting them in unseemly ways, allowing them to form on their own. The other ghosts among Danny's rouges even made a deal with each other to not interfere or attack the town when Danny was recording his videos out in space.
It was beyond bad manners to interfere with another ghost's obsession, after all.
✦
I'm gonna go cry some more. I've learned more about the progress of space exploration in the past couple hours than I probably should. This is the last thing I'm adding onto this prompt. If any of y'all wanna continue it, be my guest!
Notes:
(*) One more thing to add. Where are the ghost hunters/Guys in White during all of this? If they start making a fuss over Phantom and all the ghost animals, do they get a bunch of civilians raiding their government facilities and causing them bodily harm? What's happening with the Justice League? Are they sitting back and eating popcorn while all this goes down? Who knows. :)