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littleteenagethings · 2 years
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I always wondered why I never felt at home. No matter where I went or what I did, I could never find home. My soul searched far and wide, across the ocean, across the sky, across the universe and never found peace. I never felt at home until the very first time that I looked into your eyes, and my soul let out a sigh of relief. Sometimes, home is not a place, but just a pair of beautiful eyes and carry the beauty of a thousand stars in them.
Excerpts from the book I’ll never write #407
24/04/2022
12:07 am
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aiautos · 1 year
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The 1993 Ford-Cessna Valkyrie, a joint project between Cessna, and American manufacturer Ford, produced a single concept car, with the grand idea of making a flying car that could be adapted quite easily from a roadgoing car, to a flying transport for two, with an electric drivetrain (with a measly 50 mile range), an aluminum chassis, with fiberglass panels for lightness, and a very spartan interior that, though basic, was able to adapt to flying quite easily, once the wingpack trailer was deployed. Although it was met with great applause at the North American Auto Show in New York, it was very quickly realized to be a dead end, as despite the dream of flying cars being beloved for decades at this point, a converting car, with two engines, the Valkyrie would never see any production beyond 3 prototypes, one prototype of the car itself, one testbed to test the wing mounting, and one flying prototype, which was flown at EAA Oshkosh in 1994, before being given to the EAA museum in 1995. The first prototype was kept in the Ford Corporate office until the December 2002 auction, in which it was sold to a private collector, who wound up taking it to the Planes of Fame Air Museum, where it has been on loan for the past 20 years. The testbed prototype was to be broken up for scrap in October 2005, but a group of private aviation enthusiasts purchased the unrestored testbed from Cessna, and wound up shipping it to Denver, Colorado, where it sits in a hangar, undergoing a private restoration, potentially to flight, but there have been legal issues with this idea, so the team is prepared to maintain it in an airworthy condition, although unable to fly.
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bruce-wilson · 1 year
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If anyone would like to read the first two chapters of Under The Shadows... Being co-written with @skeletonhands.poetry on Instagram 💙
I think you'd like this story: "Under The Shadows" by BruceWilson291 on Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/328475816?utm_source=android&utm_medium=com.tumblr&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=BruceWilson291&wp_originator=4wZWu9aRInwx3C511HLCPkksDnh8WIBSnxOifnrrAiSiCYvRhLY8b%2FmzqMeWWtbELfs9I3Lp3kK2ovVY8D2KaHwTCWyRvbzQfbBkeRCfA5fJQhWRCpZsz7DszI%2BKfD7e
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Log 5, Foreign Music
Have you ever thought about music? Humming and bobbing along to a melody you sing in your head, or that rings through the air. The gentle rush of emotions with each note and melody. I have never been a singer, nor have I ever had the desire to write a song, but music is something I will always appreciate.
Hersia, as she requested I call her in my log, is a scientist that I occasionally find myself working with. Unlike myself, who usually jumps from ship to ship, Hersia has stayed with the same crew and ship for the last several years. Hersia however is very, very private. She rarely talks about anything other than work, which, as a scientist, it's often assumed that her life and her work are close to one.
Incorrect on so many levels, not the least of which being the professional face Hersia adopts when speaking of her recent discoveries. One may assume she is a hard working and stoic individual, and not realise she is sarcasm in human form.
Hersia had, on this particular day, been working on something small and inconsequential. Report logs of her findings that day. Nothing mind shattering or important. As such, in her usually locked and sound proofed cabin, Hersia took to a simple hobby she has been doing as of late. Putting on music was nothing new, she had been doing it for years with no real consequences.
Verenche, however, was one of the new recruits, replacing one of the electricians who had left the vessel at the last port. Being a new hire, and more used to working on cargo ships rather than the more research tuned vessel on which Hersia had chartered, he had little idea of the unspoken rule. Never disturb Hersia when she is working.
Simple maintenance checks are routine, and often done in sections, not unlike patrols. It's not a question of waiting for something to go wrong, it's of making sure that it doesn't. Verenche was already aware of this system, having done it a few times before. Never before however had Verenche had to patrol sector 5, where Hersias lab was located.
The patrol started as normal, doing routine checks that anyone else would. When he came across a door that seemed to have worn out its locking mechanism resulting in it being essentially useless, his concerns were warranted. Daily checks should have ensured that this issue was caught before it ceased function entirely.
When opening the door to further investigate the locking mechanism, the otherwise soundproof lab in which Hersia was currently blasing music loud enough for the entire cosmos to hear was breached. In the three seconds it took for Hersia to realise her door was open and effectively smack the pause button on her computer hard enough to break, Verenche was amazed by the sounds he could hear.
Being of a more insectoid race, Vereche had an innate interest in music. His people, the Bentras had a set of wasp-reminiscent wings, once used for flying, now small enough that their only real function was noise. Music in much the same way Humans sing. The primary difference between the two species' music is that while humans add other instruments, Bentras generally have such a wide variety of sounds they can make that they didn't find the need to develop it.
If Hersia had to find a word to describe the expression on the aliens face, it would likely be amazed bewilderment.
Hersia herself had always thought that music made by races similar to the bentras had held its own unique charm, much like how the sound shifts when a different instrument plays the same song. To see someone discovering a whole set of new music instruments and sounds was like watching someone discover their favourite song.
“Never heard human music?’ Hersia asked, fascinated by the reaction she got from the strange new member of the crew she had only seen a few times.
“Is that what that was?” Vereche asked, lovestruck and lost in his own fascination like a lovesick teenager after his first kiss.
Hersia chuckled at the reaction, ushering him inside and closing the door behind him. Quickly sitting him on the stool by her desk, Hersia pulled up her list of favourite songs, wanting to amaze him with something he had never heard before.
A simple piano song was the answer, faint pipings of violins in the background and a hauntingly beautiful voice that sang of woes and sorrows. As soon as the first note was tapped on the instrument and the sound echoed, Vereche found himself once again surrounded by a strange new music.
What is that feeling when you discover something so amazingly wonderful that you simply can't find the words, when you feel your heart and being rise with the melody. You can almost hear your blood pumping and struggling to catch up, as your chest feels lighter and you can only focus on the vibrations in your ears. That moment as the song begins to rise and you are left waiting in anticipation until at last, like a breath, there comes a slow, drawn out pause that leaves you waiting for the moment the music is a blur in your mind and all you can say for sure is that you are swaying with the rhythm.
Imagine hearing your favourite song for the first time again, feeling the breathlessness in your chest once more, and understanding what it means to be fully and completely absorbed in your music.
Now imagine you had never even heard anything remotely similar before that moment.
To say that Vereche had never heard music like that before would be a correct statement, but to say he had never before had that feeling of being one with the rhythm would be a lie. His eyes were filled with stars, and his mouth hung agape as the last song came to a slow end.
“Do your people dance?” He asked suddenly, as the music came to a stop.
Hersia was surprised by the question, thinking on it for a moment before she nodded.
“Yes, although there are a lot of different ways in which people dance. Ballroom dancing, rodeo dancing, ballet, I know there are more than a few different sports that involve it. Do yours?”
“Very much so. They say that to get the sound just right, you have to feel the wind in your wings. You shared with me your music, may I share mine?’ Vereche asked as he stood up, giving a slight bow.
Hersia smiled, bowing back and moving to shove an empty table up against a wall, and leave a large open - if slightly dusty in places- space for Vereche to perform.
“By all means!” She grinned, hanging back and watching with a keen interest. She had always been curious about Bentras music, and how it was traditionally made. While not a historian, or anything focused on different cultures, a fascination with learning is something that plagues all in the field of science and academics.
Vereche began with a slow tap, tapping his thin feet against the floor as his wings fluttered, creating a low droning that shifted, everytime he moved his feet. His slow, rounding steps quickened, as did the rhythm. It took him less than a minute before he at last seemed to find the moment of acceleration, and within an instant both he and the melody were soaring and spinning, shifting so quickly that Hersia was barely able to catch a glimpse of him, but the song that filled the air was like none she had ever really heard.
Like a thousand small pianos playing in perfect unison at once, no one instrument drowning out the other. There was only one instrument, one sound, but to say it was simple would be a disservice to an entire race. A complex melody of shifting tones and smiling faces met Hersias ears, and much like Vereche before, she was fascinated and enthralled.
When at least, Vereche came to a stop, both parties were left with much to think about. A longing to hear such foreign music again came over both of them, and in the echoing silence, Hersia spoke first.
“I don't think I’ve ever heard something quite as lovely as that.” She smiled
“I would say the same of your music.” Vereche nodded.
“Really? Well then… I’ll tell you what.” Hersia stood from her seat, striding across the room that had been ablaze with movement and song just a moment before. “Work is slow, I can spare a couple minutes between making reports. You ever want to hear something from my personal collection, feel free to knock first.” She grinned, tossing the alien a small disk, a digital music box. “In the meantime, there are about maybe a hundred twenty songs on there? Smaller collection from when I was younger. Give it a listen in your free time. I only got one request.”
“What would you want?”
“Next time you decide to pop in, I wouldn't mind watching another performance.”
Vereche went quiet for a long moment, before nodding. “Yes, I would enjoy that.”
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konvoluted · 1 year
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Interview with Diana Wynne Jones
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eriochromatic · 5 months
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Pulp Fiction film poster study but make it Miss All Sunday
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nopiedraws · 6 months
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🌊
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young-astro · 21 days
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PLEASE for the love of the universe read anti-colonial science fiction and fantasy written from marginalized perspectives. Y’all (you know who you are) are killing me. To see people praise books about empire written exclusively by white women and then turn around and say you don’t know who Octavia Butler is or that you haven’t read any NK Jemisin just kills me! I’m not saying you HAVE to enjoy specific books but there is such an obvious pattern here
Some of y’all love marginalized stories but you don’t give a fuck about marginalized creators and characters, and it shows. Like damn
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cyberpunk daomadan刀马旦 of chuanju川剧 (sichuan opera) at World Science Fiction Convention 2023 by 雁鸿Aimee
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aiautos · 1 year
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In 2014, Chevrolet announced vaguely, that they would be returning to a classic nameplate to rival the Dodge Charger, introducing the 2016 Chevrolet Chevelle, replacing the 8th generation Malibu, equipped with some familiar engine options, the 2.4L Ecotec, the LFW V6, and the LUK I4 Hybrid system, though with the usage of the E2XX platform, it would require severe modification for it's final party trick, a L77, also used in the Holden Commodore, and Chevrolet Caprice, but in 2018, it would be revealed that the Super Sport nameplate would be revived, revealing a LT4-powered Chevrolet Chevelle SS for the 2019 model year, with All-Wheel-Drive added, sales have been great for GM, selling the Chevelle SS as a halo car alongside the Corvette, though it has since been set to be discontinued for 2024, leaving a hole in Chevrolet's lineup in the near future.
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siriuslemonmuffin · 1 year
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instead of bitching why don’t we all just be thankful ao3 doesn’t have ads xxx
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marzipanandminutiae · 2 months
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why are skirts inherently evil and oppressive in historical fiction until men are wearing them
I've never heard anyone going on at length about how Universally ImpracticalTM the garb of a Scotsman or an ancient Roman politician are
suddenly everyone has a concept of situational practicality that previously was not there
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bruce-wilson · 3 months
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Log 4, Wildlife
It's commonly known among most spacefaring species that animals, creatures of every size, are going to be a commonality. From aliens resembling creatures on your home planet, to the more forgein looking pets that many different wanders keep. Even I myself keep a sort of pet with me in the form of Chroma. But pets are not my focus today.
Space cities like the one I come from are often less than appreciative of the creatures that can make a home in their walls. Rats or other small rodentia chewing on wires can be a bit of an issue when they help to keep an entire city from going dark. That's not even talking about the bugs that can hitch a ride in tourists bags without being noticed. My point is, once you have wildlife in a city, it can be very, very hard to get rid of.
Birds however seem to be fairly well accepted in most situations. Hell, some cities even make an effort to make sure they have birds. I have to admit, it can be nice waking up to the sound of chirping birds from not only earth, but other planets as well. My favourite was the Pine herroth, a crossbreed between the earth pine siskin, and the herroth from Krethera. Gorgeous little birds, with a song that just makes you feel like sleeping.
When I had my first visit to earth with my parents, I was simply amazed by the variety of animals that lived so close to humans. My Mim (mother for those of you wondering) had been to earth before some time before, as she had family living there, so there was no surprise there. My Mum (my other mother) however, had never actually been to earth before. There are still a few photos of when we first landed, with both myself and my mum looking starstruck.
I spent so much of that first day dragging my parents around as I chased after every little new creature I saw. I had never even seen a butterfly before, and in the height of summer there were plenty. After a few days, we grew more accustomed to seeing different animals and bugs around, even when poor Mum found a spider in the hotel room, and we discovered just what arachnophobia is.
Again, being in the heat of summer is a startling experience when you’ve only been on a handful of other mild temperature planets and space stations. I don’t remember whose idea it was, but we decided to head down to the beach for part of the day.
Safe to say I was fascinated by everything. It was part of what sparked my own interest in human history. Knowing each grain of sand was however many billions of years old? An unreadable document of the past, I wanted to learn how it worked. Of course, I say that now, however back then I was more focused on the different creatures that populated the beach. Mim, stars bless her, patiently explained everything she knew about every creature I brought her in my little toy bucket. From the dozens of crabs to even the slower fish I managed to catch in my childish clumsiness. I believe I must have brought at least half the beach's occupants to her in the time we were there.
The one thing that alluded my grasp however, were the birds. Anyone familiar with any avian species can tell you how flighty (pun intended) they tend to be. Unless you are slow, cautious and quiet, you have little luck catching any. Well, human children are none of those things. Running headfirst into large flocks is generally considered a bad idea, however children often know little better.
At last, as the sun began to set and I had used up almost all of my energy, I came back to sit next to my parents, and watched rather bitterly as a flock of gulls landed near where I had been playing a few minutes before. Mim, clearly noticing my frustration, simply chuckled and wrapped her arms around me as she pointed out towards the sea of white birds.
“Those birds over there are called seagulls.” She told me. “They are mostly found near any bodies of water, rivers and lakes included.”
I watched carefully as her hand moved from pointing towards the flock, to plucking a single piece of bread from the sandwiches we had been enjoying for most of the day. She tossed it in their direction, much to the confusion of both myself and Mum. they scattered from where it landed, watching us carefully with suspicious eyes.
“They evolved over the years to be able to eat human food without any problem.” She added, as one of the curious gulls stepped forward and carefully began pecking at the small piece of bread that was left there. “That's why they’re usually called sky rats.”
An, in an instant the whole flock was upon this small piece of bread, screeching and yelling at one another until there was nothing left but a small indent in the sand. Any other day and this would have been the end of it I'm sure, however what Mim had failed to realise was that Mum, unaware of the behaviours of seagulls, had begun eating one of the sandwiches that remained.
To see a couple dozen hungry eyes turn at once to you is an experience I do not think I will ever like to relive, even if it comes with amusement in hindsight. Unfortunately, simply throwing the food you still have is generally considered a bad idea. Once they see that you have it, gulls often assume you have more. To say we ran for our lives would be an understatement. Gulls, as i have learned, are rather relentless.
All in all the trip ended rather well, everyone was more aware of animal behaviour on earth, and by the end we had even come to a steady truce with the gulls. Safety bought with food sacrifices, it's not unlike many very ancient traditions of sacrificing in exchange for safe passage across the seas.
Wildlife is very interesting, but I find it's likely best to do your research before you go interacting with it. More often than not it can ensure you know what to expect. On earth, expect seagulls to steal any food you give them a taste of.
Harrington, signing off.
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danveration · 2 months
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Sleep well, amour Pt. 2
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: After falling asleep to his voice, you wake up and get confronted by Alastor. Later, you walk in on him sleeping.
Word count: 1523
Warnings: Mention of Alastor eating and k*lling a deer
part one
A/N: PART TWO IS HERE!!! I had SO many options wracking my brain on where to take this, but I picked this one! I hope you all enjoy it :’) let me know if you have any feedback, I’d love to hear it. Also, I’m currently working on all the requests I got :) as well as part 2 to that-no-good-first-man-on-earth
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You wake up, blinking and looking around. Momentarily forgetting where you are.
Shit. You fell asleep in Alastor’s recording room. Thankfully, he isn’t here right now.
Before you could get up, you notice a purple blanket on you. It seems to be the one that was on his coat hanger. Did Alastor put this on you..? The thought has you smiling and your cheeks reddening.
Alastor’s voice sure does have an effect on you. You look outside to see what time it is, but remember that it’s Hell and the sky is always the same shade of red. You’re going to have to get used to that.
Getting up, you put the blanket back on the hanger and look around some more. It feels some-what intimate right now to be in his space when he’s not around. You wonder how long you’ve been asleep for.
You walk over to his table and notice a red “play” button on his radio equipment and are tempted to press it. It surely won’t cause any harm to hear what he was talking about when you were asleep. You press it and listen.
“Haha! For any sinner, I know it’s a tempting question. But I-“ The recording fast forwards. “Nevertheless, I find it quite amusing that this technology box thinks he is on any sort of level to me! Call me crazy but the sinners have been taaallkinggg, and they think he sounds quite obsessed.” He laughs, knowing Vox is probably listening.
You smile at his voice and find it funny how he is a bit of a drama queen when it comes to his radio broadcasts. You know deep down he doesn’t actually care about the whole situation with Vox, but it’s still funny how he entertains it.
Looking to your right, you see a mug that has “Oh Deer” written on it. There seems to be a bit of black coffee still left in the mug. The “deer” reference made you giggle. You’ve always wondered about his past and how exactly he is part deer anyhow. Oh well, It’ll reveal itself with time.
You’re looking at all the other buttons on his equipment, wondering what they do, when all of a sudden you hear light footsteps on the other side of the door. It’s most likely Alastor. Nobody would willingly go to his room without permission.
The door opens slowly and in steps Alastor. You notice how he opened the door quietly, to not make make much noise. As he still assumed you were asleep. You smiled at that.
He looks ahead and sees you, immediately smiling. “Ah! My dear. You’re awake!” He claps his hands together, his cane leaning on his side.
“Hey Al. Um.. about what happened I-“ You start.
“Ah, ah! No need to explain yourself, sweetheart! Don’t go giving yourself a headache.” He cuts in and laughs.
He looks down at you and says, “you just find comfort in my voice, don’t you?” He asks, with a smug smile.
Your eyes go wide and you stutter. Of course it wasn’t the most secretive thing. Still, you didn’t think he actually knew.
“U-um. Well..” You say.
He tilts his head to side as if saying, “Go on…”
There’s really no getting out of this. Plus, you don’t think Alastor would actually care. He’d probably just find it funny.
“Yeah, I do.” You admit. “I find comfort in your voice, of course I do! I just.. I don’t know.”
You aren’t sure what to say, it’s a tad embarrassing.
Alastor begins to laugh.
“I certainly could tell! I find it quite amusing if I do say so myself.” He says.
He definitely doesn’t mind it, he has a soft spot for you. But he’s also a bit confused on why you even do. He knows his radio voice is unique, but nobody ever commented on it bringing them comfort. They usually scream and run away when they hear him. You’ve been there long enough to see him kill and do so many things that people describe as “horrible, satanic, terrifying” but you still find comfort in him nevertheless? He thinks it’s absolutely adorable!
“Amusing?” You ask.
He nods and says, “Amusing, darling! I mean.. you know who I am, do you not?” He laughs and continues. “Though you still find comfort.. now that’s an interesting fact, don’t you think?”
You shy away, looking anywhere but him. You’re comfortable around him, of course, but you’re a tiny but embarrassed of this whole situation. You know he is definitely loving his though.
He places a finger on your jaw and guides your head back to look at him.
“Uh, uh, dear. There’s no need to feel shy! I never said it was a bad thing. I’m truly honoured!” He says, smiling down at you.
You and him have been getting to know each other for a while now and you’ve just been going deeply and deeply more interested in him. You almost laugh at yourself because you sometimes act as if you did when you alive, how you obsessed over fictional characters and “fan fiction.”
You look at him and say, “Well, that’s good then.” You chuckle.
“Mm, it is isn’t it?” He says.
He thinks you’re absolutely pathetic, but in a good way. He wouldn’t let anything hurt you, this new sensation is something he never wants to get rid of.
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Later that day, Charlie wanted you to pass a message on to Alastor about the hotel reservations. You knew he was in his room because he mentioned that if you needed him, he’d be in there having some dinner (aka, deer). Which he has in his half room half forest. You really wonder how on earth he even did that. The wonders of being a radio demon!
You’re at his door, lightly knocking. You wait a few seconds but you don’t hear anything from the other side.
“Al?” You question while knocking again.
“Hm.” You think.
You aren’t sure if you should go in or not. Sure, the thing Charlie told you about could wait but you also wanted to make sure he was okay. What if he.. choked or something? You’re sure the radio demon could handle that but you just want to make sure.
“Al, I’m coming in.. okay?” You say while knocking once more.
You slowly twist the knob and push the door open. Peaking in, you see him on the other side of the room, in a chair.
“Alastor, are you alr-“ You stop yourself when you notice his eyes are closed.
Closing the door behind you, you walk up to him.
He’s currently sitting in the chair, his arm on the table and his head resting on his hand. He looks so peaceful. His mouth isn’t smiling and his face just looks so.. relaxed. You’ve never saw him like this before. He mumbles occasionally and his ears twitch every so often as he sleeps. You aren’t sure how he finds this position comfortable, but you smile at it nonetheless.
You don’t want to disturb him so you leave, now relaxed that you know he’s okay.
Right before you grab the knob of the door, you hear, “Y/n?”
You whip your head back and you see him standing up, looking at you with his smile.
“Did you need something, dear?” He asks, as if he wasn’t just dead asleep a second ago.
Of course, it makes sense he is a light sleeper.
“O-oh, no. Charlie just wanted me to tell you that the renovations went well and that the guys who inspect the place will be here tomorrow!” You say. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”
“Ahh, alright! And nonsense! You couldn’t disturb me.” He says.
You look at him and smile.
“You know, you could join me if you want! I was just resting and then going to have some dinner.” He offers.
You perk up but then remember that Husk assigned you a task of picking up crates of whiskey for the bar.
“Shit, sorry. I can’t. I have to go get more alcohol for the bar.” You say with a frown.
“More? If I remember correctly, we just got new shipments in.. last week?” He says with a laugh. “Though I’m not surprised we ran out again. Husker is a busy man. Well, my dear. Some other time, then!”
You notice him looking back into the forest, eyeing a deer.
“Yeah, some other time.” You smile. “Have a good dinner, Alastor!”
He smiles back at you says, “Oh I will.” He chuckles, his radio eyes making an appearance as he looks back the deer.
“You have yourself a lovely day, sweetheart!” He says with a wave.
“You too!” Waving back, you then open the door and leave. Once you leave you hear shrieking on the other side of the door, definitely the deer that Al was eyeing.
You’re excited to have more encounters with him, and even take him up on the dinner offer! You remember him mentioning he wanted to introduce you to his friend, Rosie. You’re looking forward to it.
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ddarker-dreams · 6 months
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one thing i refuse to do is write a man who is normal about his partner. he must be frothing at the mouth, hissing at anyone who approaches them like a rabid raccoon, daydreaming about them 24/7 or what's the point?
there is none. go feral or go home
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