thenecropolix
thenecropolix
IM GETTING BETTER
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" No great mind had ever existed without a touch of madness" Aster | They/Them | 23 | Pale-ass Mexican FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸
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thenecropolix · 5 days ago
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@traintrainingmontage Te you're wanted /j
Can you rank the narrow gauge engines in order of attachment issues
Or is it a three-way tie
Lmaooooo!
I leave this one as an exercise for the MSR/SR lovers. I doubt I can do it justice.
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thenecropolix · 1 month ago
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thenecropolix · 1 month ago
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Dudes healthcare is so fake. My ADHD meds are $940 without insurance. But they gave me a website of "coupons" which straight up looks like a scam website, and I got it today for $60! Just a coupon from a random website and it was $900 cheaper. America, I am confusion!! America explain!!
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thenecropolix · 1 month ago
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Screaming crying because I hate every piracy guide I come across on here.
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thenecropolix · 2 months ago
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ATTENTION EVERYONE
text : The Donald Trump administration has terminated grants that have been used to fund PBS Kids programming.
Trump’s Department of Education will now prioritize funding for meaningful learning and improving student outcomes instead of divisive ideologies and “woke propaganda.”
WHAT. THE. HELL.
DONATE IF YOU CAN!
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thenecropolix · 2 months ago
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JK Rowling losing it over us asexuals is both her showing her entire ass (not that she wasn't before, but y'know) and an "old man yells at cloud" moment. Lady you're insane and you are showing it. Who fucking cares that aces and trans people exist?? We're cooler than you anyway.
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thenecropolix · 2 months ago
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Bot accounts and Real people with accounts.
I’m pretty sure the tumblr community is well aware of this problem and probably loads of other people have already made posts about this, so I’ll keep it brief.
So recently blogs like this keep appearing in my followers list (these are recent ones)
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Now when you get a spam blogs or p*rn bots you’re supposed to blog them. But some these blogs are actual people who are new on tumblr and have the default icon, so you’re supposed to check before who block them. But here’s the problem…
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some of these blogs don’t have anything. No posts, No description, No title. So you’re gonna automatically assume that these are spam and block them.
Now I hate fact that some of these blogs belong to actual people and I’ve been blocking and reporting on blogs like these for the past few days, and that they’re probably wondering why there being blocked or reported. ( sorry to the people who own blogs like these that I blocked you)
So a couple of tips for new blogs on this site,
1.You could change the title (a catchphrase, a favorite quote, a random sentence etc.) or type small description, or whatever random stuff you like!
2. You could change the your avator or icon (it be a picture of you, a cartoon, again it’s your choice do whatever)
3.If you’re not planning to frequently post stuff and just sign in to check out other people’s stuff, just put a put a post something like this just to show you’re new here.(again u can write down anything)
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if you’re reading this and new to this website I hope you found these suggestions useful and should stop you from getting blocked immediately. Happy posting.
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thenecropolix · 2 months ago
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༻𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬/𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬༺
𓆩Main operation𓆪
*The Relationship between the engine and human works as a symbiotic relationship with people, thus making them tame, but still act on instinct because they're still wild at the end of the day*
Engine Keeper
*Provides daily care to the institution's animals, including diet preparation, cleaning, general exhibit maintenance, and record keeping.*
Train conductors/drivers
*Responsible for the safety of the engines/passenger also directing the engines to its destination and communicating to the engines and other operators on the railway*
Locomotive Director/Manager
*Responsible for the daily operation of the institution's physical plant and equipment.*
Curator of railways and berths/horticulture
*Creates railways and assists in the design of graphics and
Responsible for the botanical collection and its application to the animal collection, as well as daily maintenance of the institution's grounds.*
Curator of Education/public affairs manager
*Plans and implements the institution's education programs.
Promotes the institution, its mission, and its programs to the public via the media.*
Train technicians
*Responsible for the healthcare program for the engine collection and the maintenance of health records.*
Engine Chief coordinator
*Responsible for preparing different meals for the monsters and monitoring how much nutrient intake are giving to each engine.*
Qualifications
*25 or older to apply and a bachelor degree in railway engineering and zoology*
𓆩Secondary operations𓆪
Accommodations
Residents
*For many of the locals on the island they're neighborhoods place far away from the island sanctuaries to insure Comfortablity and function of the local communities.*
Transportation
*Monster Engines are the primary source of transport on the railway not just passengers but other important goods as well since there no rails they travel by regular dirt or stone roads through the island.*
Food
*The majority of the island's vegetation and meat is harvested at local farms, while other essential goods are imported from the harbors or the mainland. There are also dedicated farms specifically designed for both monster engines and humans. These specialized farms cater to the unique dietary needs of each group, helping to ensure a consistent and sufficient food supply for all inhabitants.*
Security
*For the residents on the island, electric-gated fences are installed around each neighborhood to prevent wandering engines from accidentally crossing into the sanctuary. The engines are equipped with tracking devices beneath their cabs and are continuously monitored to ensure they aren’t involved in any illegal activity. Additionally, troublesome trucks constantly patrol the railways to maintain security across the island. The island also enforces strict laws and penalties: anyone caught harming an engine could face a $5,000 fine or up to two years in jail.*
Editor note
(would like to extend my sincere gratitude to my friend Asterion for their valuable suggestions, which greatly contributed to the creation of this)
╞═════𖠁🚂🚋🚃🚋🚃🚋🚃🚃🚋🚃𖠁═════╡
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thenecropolix · 2 months ago
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Oh, and by the way, that Supreme Court ruling is where that Harry Potter money goes.
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thenecropolix · 3 months ago
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I'm only saying this for your sake, but objectively, it's not a smart idea to bring politics into normal hobbies. You might lose supporters of your blog just because of your political stance, and that would be terrible since you're so amazing!! It's only a suggestion, but I really reccomend not bringing politics into anything.
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thenecropolix · 4 months ago
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Uh oh! You are now a were-animal! This means you become a human-sized animal hybrid with uncontrollable bloodlust every night!
Spin this wheel to get your species
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thenecropolix · 4 months ago
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Congrats on the 150!! Of course this means I gotta suggest a prompt for Rusty and Stepheny >:] I was thinking something along the lines of the 2 being buddies and hanging out like the peepaw and grandkid we've mentioned on discord! But obviously feel free to shake things up as the dealer!
YAAAAY thank you so much, Aster!! Rusty and Stepney are two of my faves, so I am MORE than happy to write about them! This one ended up being my absolute favorite ficlet to write thus far.
We're going to do a human!AU for this one! I am giving Stepney a unique speech pattern for this one, so I apologize in advance if it doesn't match up to what accent/speech pattern he would actually have!
(My inbox is starting to get low! If you have a prompt idea, please feel free to send it in. Details are here!)
Rusty's phone went off with a buzz, causing him to blearily lift his head from the pillow, then groan when he saw what time it was. However, it wasn't the incessant whining of their alarm that had awoken them, as they dimly realized; instead, it had been their message tone, which revealed that he'd received a new text.
Rusty quirked an eyebrow, curiosity waking him up faster than caffeine might. Who in the world was sending texts this early? Not even Skarloey and Rheneas, the oldest people in his apartment building, sent texts before 9:00 AM.
As he opened the message and read it over, the last vestiges of sleep disappeared as if by magic, replaced by a growing excitement.
"Hello Rusty!" the message read. "I'm Gonna Be In Your Neck Of The Woods Next Weekend For Work, And Thought It'd Be Nice To Catch Up If You've Got Time! There's Supposed T' Be A Carnival Happening Too, So Lemme Know If You'd Be Up!! (Down?)"
":-)"
Rusty couldn't stop themself from grinning as they texted out their reply. "Hi Gramps! Yeah, I'll be free. We can meet up by the big fountain in the middle of Crovan's Gate around 10. It'll be great to see you! 😄"
With that, Rusty set about clearing their calendar, already buzzing with excitement at the thought of getting to see his gramps again. His visits were few and far between, but when they did happen, they were always a treat.
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Next weekend found Rusty in a comfortable black hoodie, well-loved jeans, and sneakers, waiting by the Crovan's Gate fountain and idly playing with their hijab. They were keeping an eye on the crowd, waiting for their Gramps, when suddenly, a familiar figure caught his attention.
Evidently, they'd caught his too, because Thomas, clad in a windbreaker and sweatpants, came barreling up to him with clear indignation written all over his face. "Rusty?! What the heck! You said that you wouldn't be online today, but you're just out here hanging out!"
Rusty shot Thomas a rather unimpressed look. "Hi, Thomas," they replied, the words almost viscous with sarcasm. "Nice to see you too."
Thomas deflated a bit at the pointed greeting, but then rallied, slightly shaking the grocery bag he was holding (he'd doubtless been sent to pick up some things for Edward, if Rusty had to guess). "Yeah, well, what's so important that you're skipping out on the weekly guild raid?"
This time, Rusty rolled their eyes; Thomas was a good friend, but he never did well when personal inconvenience was involved. "I'm meeting someone today. My Gramps is going to be in the area, and I always try to see him when I can."
Thomas quirked an eyebrow at that, clearly confused. "Your Gramps? I thought you didn't have any family around here."
Rusty shook his head, trying their hardest to push down their exasperation. "We're not blood-related or anything, but he's--"
"RUSTY! There y'are, lad!" A sunny greeting floated over to the two, and both Rusty and Thomas looked over to see an older gentleman in a bright yellow fedora with a green band, a long beige overcoat, and a white polo shirt and black slacks underneath. He also sported a thick, bushy mustache (with a small goatee) and aviator glasses, giving the pair a hearty wave.
"Gramps!" Rusty grinned, waving him over. "Gramps, this is my mate Thomas. Thomas, this is Stepney, but I call him Gramps."
"Dunstan Stepney, at yer service, lad!" the older man chortled, holding out a hand for Thomas to take. "But y'can call me Gramps too, if ya like."
"Um, thanks...?" Thomas questioned, adjusting his groceries so that he could give Stepney's hand a good shake. At Thomas's words, however, Stepney's eyes lit up.
"Ah, a fellow Brighton boy, eh? Never thought I'd see another so far from home!"
Rusty was a tad surprised by that; he'd never have guessed that Thomas was from that region, given how much his speech and mannerisms took after Edward's. That said, Rusty was even more surprised at the shadow that suddenly crossed his friend's face at Stepney's comment. "Yeah, well, y'have. But don't be blabbin' about it t' others, thanks."
Sensing that he might have caused offense somehow, Stepney held up his hands in mock surrender. "My lips are zipped, lad. All I meant was I can tell jus' by lookin' atcha that yer a hard worker who means well. Rusty's got a good friend indeed with you around."
"O-Oh," Thomas blinked, somewhat taken aback but appreciative of the compliment all the same. "Well, uh, thanks." A small, genuine smile crept across his face as he turned to look at Rusty. "You two have fun; we'll hang out later, I guess." With that, he made to leave, giving them both a wave.
"See ya 'round, lad!" Stepney called.
"Bye, Thomas!" Rusty waved back.
"He seems like a good sort. But now," the older man grinned, "shall we head for that carnival?"
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"Dang it!" Rusty groaned, giving a forlorn look at the array of still-stacked milk bottles. He'd had five tries to knock them all down, yet hadn't managed even one! "Guess I'm just not cut out for this game."
"Aw, don't beat yerself up, Rusty," Stepney chuckled. "Maybe the ring toss'll do ya better."
The two headed over to a setup of glass pop bottles, where a sign proudly proclaimed that for three pounds, players had five tries to get the rings on the bottles. One ring earned a small prize, two rings a medium prize, and three rings a large prize. As they approached, a mother and her daughter were just starting to walk away from the booth empty-handed, a clear expression of dejection on the girl's face. "Alright, lad!" Stepney instructed, handing the bored-looking attendant a five-pound banknote. "It's all in the wrists. Give it your best!"
As Stepney pocketed his change, Rusty took the proffered rings, and flicked one toward the bottles. It clanked off the side, falling to the floor, and Rusty bit at their lip in concentration, determined to get the next one.
Despite Rusty's best efforts, however, five tosses had not yielded them any meaningful results, and all he could do was sigh in frustration as they turned away from the booth. "Sorry, Gramps. Now I REALLY know I'm not cut out for carnival games. Let's get---"
"WAHHHHHHH!"
A sharp cry drew both Stepney and Rusty's attention, and they looked over to see that the girl from earlier and her mother were now sitting at a nearby bench, the poor thing now bawling her eyes out and pointing to the booth. "But I WANT the big bear!" she wept, and Rusty and Stepney looked up to see that one of the large prize options was a large brown teddy bear with a bright yellow bow, perhaps as large as the girl herself.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," her mother soothed, "but it just wasn't meant to be. How about we go get an ice cream instead, hm?"
"NO! I want the BEAR!" the girl moaned, her tears even more bitter than before.
Rusty shook their head and sighed; it really was too bad, but it seemed like that poor mother had an uphill battle ahead of her. Stepney, however, seemed to have other ideas. With a small sigh and a resigned smile, the yellow-clad gentleman turned back to the booth attendant and drew out another three pounds. "One more go fer me please."
The attendant shrugged and handed Stepney the rings. "Now, watch closely, Rusty," his Gramps grinned. "It really is all in the wrists." With a careful flick, Stepney let the first ring fly, to Rusty's disbelieving eyes, it landed with a perfect clatter atop one of the many bottles.
"How did you do that?!" they exclaimed, not at all sure just how Stepney's technique could have differed from his own.
"Jus' takes practice. Had a lot of time for it while I was in th' Army."
Four more rings shot from his hands, and four more clinks could be heard as all five of Stepney's rings stood proudly atop the bottles.
The attendant, mouth agape, finally managed to ask what he wanted, and Stepney pointed to the bear, as well as one of the medium prizes, which happened to be a much more reasonably sized teddy bear with yellow-ish fur and a blue bow. The smaller bear was handed to Rusty with a wink, and before Rusty could get a word in edgewise, Stepney was already walking over to the girl and her mother, handing them the giant bear.
Rusty couldn't help but laugh at the earsplitting screams of delight which followed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once they had finished meandering around the carnival, Rusty and Stepney purchased some lunch and found a comfortable hillside to sit at while they ate. With hot sandwiches and warm tea, it was the perfect time to sit and relax. "Thank you for taking me out today, Gramps," Rusty smiled, polishing off the last of their meal and making sure that his bear was stain-free. "It was great fun."
"Hahaha, I'm glad you enjoyed, lad!" Stepney beamed. "It was just what I needed too." His good humor didn't last long, though, as a strange melancholy overtook him, one that Rusty wasn't particularly used to seeing from his Gramps. Dread suddenly pooled in his stomach, sensing that whatever Stepney had to say, it probably wouldn't be good. "I... I don't really know how to say it, but... this may be the last time I get t'see ya in a long while."
"What?" Rusty exclaimed, disbelief pouring out of that single word. "What do you mean, Gramps? What's going on?"
Stepney sighed, and somehow, the sound made him feel old, particularly given the way his body seemed to reflexively hunch in on itself. "I'm turning 65 this year, Rusty, and my body's not what it used to be. My joints are creaking, and my lungs aren't in good shape. The doctors say I may need to go in for surgery soon."
Stepney's eyes rose, staring up at the sunshine-lined clouds as they floated lazily by. His gaze, however, seemed to be looking at some point far away and long ago, beyond what Rusty could possibly see. "Before you rescued me from the streets in that bad part of Barrow, I was convinced there was nothin' left for me. I had no contact with my family, no home, and thugs lookin' to take what little I had. I was just a washed-up old man with nothin' left. Then you came along, helped get me some veterans' assistance, and now I have a job in Sheffield Park, promoting the Bluebell Railway.
"I'll forever be grateful to ya, lad, but... that doesn't change the fact that I'm old. My sister's close by, but she has her own life to live. I nev'r got married, I have no kids, and you're the closest thing I've got to a grankid. I jus'... I dunno. Dunno if goin' through surgery and all o' that's worth it. Maybe it's about time I just let things take their course."
"NO!" Rusty shouted, the volume uncharacteristic of him but with how emotional they were, it could only be considered understandable. "No! Please, Stepney! Don't give up! You love your job, and you're so much fun to be around. I love when you visit. I..."
There was a long pause as Rusty struggled to keep back tears, and a gentle hand came up to rub comforting circles into their shoulder, Stepney giving them a smile tinged with resignation. "Yer a good lad, Rusty. I'm so glad I metcha. But the occasional visits and texts aren't quite enough to keep th' loneliness away. I've led a good, long life, and I've done some bit of good in th'world. What's there to be upset about?"
Rusty sniffled, pulling some tissues out of their pocket and blowing their nose as Stepney pulled his hand away. "Well... what if I helped you find someone? Maybe you could give dating a try?"
"Hahahaha!" Stepney's course laughter was genuine, yet there was obvious disbelief lingering at the edges. "That's sweet o' ya, Rusty, but who'd be interested in an old man like me? I hate t' say it, but I'm not really interested in the company o' ladies, if ya catch my drift, and I doubt there's any gentleman out there who'd be interested either."
Rusty frowned, wanting to retort, but just then, a beep sounded from his phone. They pulled it out, shooting Stepney an apologetic glance, then looked it over and texted something back before putting it away. "Sorry about that. My neighbor asked where I was; he's just coming back from his job and wanted to drop something off."
"Oh, that's fine," Stepney reassured him, seemingly grateful for the change in subject. "You always have such nice things t'say 'bout the others in your building; it'll be nice to meet 'em."
Soon enough, a familiar face made his way up the hill, with Rusty giving him a wave of greeting. "Rheneas! Over here!"
Rheneas Fletcher, professor of physics at Furness College, was the quintessential definition of a silver fox. As he bounded up the hill in a button-up, vest, tweed pants, and dress shoes, clearly having attended some kind of lecturer's meeting, he waved back to Rusty, a calm smile on his face and a grocery bag gripped tightly in his hand. Between his short ponytail, streaked with streams of silver; horn rim glasses; and thin moustache, Rheneas was rumored to be an incredibly popular professor for a number of reasons.
Clearly, Stepney also thought so, given the way his eyes were transfixed upon the approaching gentleman.
"I brought back some cinnamon rolls from the meeting, enough for everyone in the building to have at least one," Rusty's neighbor explained, gesturing to the bag. "I can give you yours now, and one to this handsome stranger as well."
Rusty blinked, eyes suddenly jumping to Stepney, whose ears had gone slightly red at the compliment, and felt, deep in their bones, that the turning point had arrived.
"Rheneas," he interjected hastily, "this is Stepney, a friend of mine! He's amazing; he won me a prize at the carnival, he's been in the army, and he's got so many interesting stories! I bet you two would get on famously!"
Stepney paused, giving Rusty an unsure look, but clearly didn't want to leave Rheneas hanging. "Ah, well! Pleasure to meet you, Rheneas," he greeted, holding out a hand, and Rheneas took it, giving a firm handshake.
"A pleasure indeed. I would love to have dinner with you at some point, unless...?"
The words went unspoken, but even though Rusty lagged slightly on what he meant, Stepney understood immediately, and held up his left hand, showing that it was bare. "Ah, no conflicts of interest on my part. I would, ah, quite enjoy dinner with you some time."
"Excellent," Rheneas smiled warmly, and doled out some cinnamon rolls to Rusty and Stepney before checking his watch and taking his leave, but not before exchanging numbers with Stepney.
"Well, Gramps," Rusty grinned in between bites of cinnamon goodness, "now that you've got a date, wouldn't you say there's something worth living for?"
Stepney shook his head, eyes disbelieving but a smile still on his face. "Well, it's a bit early t' say that, but... who knows. Maybe there's still some life in these ol' bones yet."
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thenecropolix · 4 months ago
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This took me way too long. Homophobic dubwool
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thenecropolix · 4 months ago
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do y'all think the trains/engines have favourite people? ranging from drivers who've worked with them for years, to others who talk to them while they're stopped at a station.
do you think they get jealous? like if their favourite person gives someone else attention? it'd be funny if they were like big huffy dogs
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thenecropolix · 4 months ago
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Common ruse’s used by ICE
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thenecropolix · 4 months ago
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News outlets are trying to convince us that there’s no resistance against Trump and Elon because they want us to submit to despair. However, there are many people fighting back against Trump, Elon, and their administration despite the news saying otherwise. 
This shit isn’t over until these fuckers are gone, and we need to be here to see the end of it. 
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thenecropolix · 4 months ago
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Hey, y'all! I made these today! I release them into the world to support the cause! They're sized for 8.5x11 printer paper. Take 'em. Print 'em. Post 'em EVERYWHERE.
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