making them tazmily villagers work in the claymen mines was obscene. paul was clearly meant to be a malewife househusband and theyre making him do labor

what’s your phone wallpaper : just aesthetic landscape photos lol.

last song you listened to : Big Town Banky Blaine's Rockabilly BBQ by Bear Ghost

currently reading : Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee by Dee Brown. incredible book honestly but it is a tough read. i've never felt such dread and disgust reading a history book before. highly recommend though, it's insanely well researched and organized. last book i finished was Tender is the Flesh by Bazterrica.

last movie : Little Big Man. movie is still funny as hell. book is better but still

last show : aheem heem i don't know... i never watch tv shows sorry. it might be Dororo (2019) though since i think i watched that back in january.

what are you wearing right now: mario pj pants, sonic t shirt, socks

piercings / tattoos? : used to have ear piercings but they closed up years ago.

glasses ? contacts? : i'm a glasses wearer all mi life... my eyes are too blinky for contacts.

last thing you ate? : lemon cake. deliciouse

favorite color(s) : purple, pink, and blue

current obsession : Mother 3, the usual. um reading too. i'm really into reading again

do you have a crush right now? : i am aromantic so no!

favorite fictional character : oh man i have so many. uhhh Paul, Linda, Abbot, Abbey, to name a few from Mother 3. also rly love Al, Noah, Tom, and Rose of Sharon Joad from Grapes of Wrath.. also my ocs lol

tagged by : stole from @recklessinventor

tagging : @gildead, @trouticecream, anybody else who wants to tbh i don't know who's done what. sorry if you're already done this!

Thinking about that one Paul line in chapter 4 of Mother 3 where he says he wishes Linda would take care of him because she was busy working at the old folks home instead.. I have no thoughts on it I just think the line is interesting SKDK

It’s like the one Paul line that’s whiny or not nice and even then. I don’t know what to think of it. His perspective is probably “I work all day and then my wife is at this old folks home instead of here” but also he’s most definitely aware how shit the working conditions are?? I’m sure he’d rather she didn’t bother with a shitty job, but he bothers with a shitty job too. It’s a little bit of a selfish line but it’s interesting

do you like SPOOKY BOYS? and i mean... REALLY SPOOKY BOYS? SPOOKY BOYS who are also... POKEMON TRAINERS?

then this may be the blog for you. but a word of warning first... this may be just a lil' too spooky for more sensitive roleplayers. read this first. then, if you're ready to step into the unknown, hit that follow button and reblog this.

GOLD DRAWS YOUR MUSE

with apologies to @beinfriends (especially Lucas)

"Sorry about... s-scaring your neighbors."

( smh i always forget about muse birthdays till its too late. i missed Lin's birthday on the 1st 😭 )

accessibility in the rpc

once upon a time i made an overly polite post explaining visual disabilities and how inaccessible this community was being, to the point of witnessing ableist responses to valid criticisms of aesthetic trends. for the past several years it seemed like a lot of this behavior died down. however, i am starting to see it crop back up and this time i’m not going to hold your hand if you’re inconsiderate or ableist. i used to let people make me feel like the bad guy for asking roleplayers to do the bare minimum for disabled writers. and i’m not doing that again.

accessibility is more important than how it makes you feel to learn you’re not being accessible.  accessibility is more important than aesthetics. and yes, you should care more about accessibility than if your posts looks pretty.   disabled muns are entitled to accessibility. you are not entitled to being inaccessible. if you are putting aesthetics that are difficult to read and look at above real people who it can literally hurt to try and look at those things, yes that makes you ableist. 

examples of what i’m talking about: over formatting posts with too many spaces and i don’t mean double or triple i am talking about the words being so far apart you could stick your thumb between them.  tiny ass font, font generators that put words upside down. and on that note, people who rely on voice reader apps to read your posts won’t be able to read them if you are pasting a font. they are read as images, not text, and can even make the computer voice glitch. i know this one will make people upset but when you start making icons smaller than 60x60 you are making it very difficult on those with visual impairments especially if your PSD changes the coloring so much we can’t make out what is even in the image. 

at the very least, you need to be talking to your mutuals and ensuring you’re accommodating the people you’re surroundings yourself with. and be open to changing how you format and use graphics even on an individual level. roleplaying is supposed to be about an interaction. which should make you prioritize that interaction being easy for your friends over how your blog looks to you on an aesthetic level. make a welcoming environment towards your peers about these things as well because most of us don’t feel safe to say something due to how horribly we were treated in past years for just barely criticizing the rest of this site for inaccessibility. 

🐝  *  ―  𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑻𝒀 𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑰𝑵.  reblog this post and give the person you reblogged it from a small compliment in the tags.  just something sweet and simple that’ll hopefully bring a smile to their face.

No matter what Porky did, no matter what he said, Pokey never took the bait. He never even tried to understand Porky's perspective. He was getting nowhere with this conversation, and that only tired him. Porky didn't reach out to this child just to get berated or insulted by somebody who didn't understand the first thing about Porky's life, or anything. It was the foolish arrogance of a child with hardly any years under his belt. 13 years was the blink of an eye for Porky. 13 years was nothing to him at all.

Porky's jaw clenched at that word; lonely. Porky wasn't lonely. He was exactly where he wanted to be. That's what he always told himself, and what he would continue to tell himself long into the future. He didn't need people. He just needed the satisfaction of knowing that he'd done what was right for him, what was fun, what was the most beneficial to him. His mind was slipping now from the game. It wasn't a game at this point. Pokey had refused to play.

"Lonely? Hardly, I--"

But Porky was cut off when Pokey knocked his capsule right over. Now, he could see nothing. He squealed in shock and surprise, and hacked up a lung right after, his lungs burning. Porky was lucky that no matter what side the capsule was on that he was still upright, but now it was dark and miserable. No, that window was his only view of the outside world. He couldn't do this to Porky. Desperately trying to catch his breath, Porky called out to Pokey one last time.

"You can't change the future, just as much as you won't change the past!" he shouted. "You would never go back to change what you did to Giygas, or Ness, or anyone! What makes you think you'll ever decide to be better? You think you can change it now?" Despite his panic, Porky managed to laugh. "The gods themselves hate you! You'll spend thousands of years wasting your time, smugly thinking you'll be better than me, and then you'll become me! And who will be laughing then?" Porky paused, panting hard, desperately trying to bring as much air into his body as he could.

"Nobody but me..." He grinned, though Pokey could not see it. "You don't even know what I've done. You ought to go down to that little village and found out... I look forward to the day that you become me, Pokey. I'd say good luck, but nothing will change."

Pokey rocked back and forth, completely silent as Porky ranted about his empire.

Anything he wanted? Not having to work for it? Everyone loving him... That is what he wanted. But getting what he truly wanted was a foreign concept, everytime it was in his reach it disappeared.

As enchanted with this fantasy as he was, it sounded too good to be true; Porky must be messing with him.

Two could play at that game. No one messed with Pokey Minch and got away with it, not even himself.

"But what did it cost? Getting locked in a stupid capsule? I thought we were smarter than that... Must be pretty lonely in there." Pokey said, standing up.

He slowly stood up and leaned against the capsule again, taking in a deep breath.

And then he kicked it as hard as he could, the metal ball toppling over to a position where the window was facing the ground, totally obscuring Pokey's vision.

"Guess you're stuck now, alone forever. Boohoo. I can't wait to not do whatever you did. I still think you're a total loser. Heh."

He started to walk away, grinning.

Jeff seemed utterly amused by the knowledge of Porky's capture. Suppose the old doctor didn't bother catching Jeff up on much-- and maybe that was a good thing. Claus didn't like the idea of him knowing too much about what happened on Nowhere. It wasn't any of his business in the first place, and perhaps Jeff knew that. He never tried to pry much with Claus, and he doubted that he had interest in maintaining much of a conversation with his father. They weren't close, that was obvious.

In spite of himself, Claus grinned lopsidedly, almost smug, eye squinting with amusement. He could not pretend to have any love of Porky, even to spite Jeff. It would be the one thing they could ever possibly agree on, and it was that Porky Minch was nothing more than scum, nothing more than pure evil at its worst. He snickered at Jeff's last comment. All of Dr. Andonuts's inventions were either broken or useless. He'd gotten damn lucky that the Absolutely Safe Capsule worked as it did, though he'd chalk that up to the Mr. Saturns' hand (feet...?) in it more than anything else.

"Yeah, really. Ain't none of his machines ever fuckin' work right! It's a gotdamn miracle this one did."

When he thought about how he'd laughed at Jeff's comment, though, that annoyed him a hair. Claus was always dead-set on being as stubborn with people like Jeff as possible, but he couldn't help it. Maybe he should just take the opportunity to not constantly fight with Jeff and run with it. It was probably better than spending the next hour or two arguing with him while they walked to Saturn Valley. He would accept it-- although barely.

"Though, honestly, if he managed ta get outta that thing, he wouldn't git real far. His bed mech ain't got no power left, 'n' he can't walk. It charges in the sun a bit, but there's no way he'd get outta New Pork with all the rubble." He tapped his fingers on his arms, his metal arm making a hollow sound as he did. "But the capsule he's in is s'posed ta never let 'im out, an' that's what we're countin' on. That jackass ain't gonna bother nobody no more. An' you know what the best part is? I think he thinks the fact we can't get to him means he's winnin'. What a fuckin' moron."

beinfriends​:

Claus can’t help but roll his eye. Jeff wasn’t necessarily wrong for worrying about what Porky was capable of, especially with someone like Dr. A around, but somehow, it just felt performative to him. He came far too late to have done anything. Would Dr. Andonuts ever tell Jeff all of what he had done for Porky? Jeff had already seen chimeras around, but had not yet put two and two together. He wondered what Jeff would think of the whole thing. There’d probably be a lot of anger; it was clear he did not get along with his father already, and he would never be able to stomach what was done.

Oh, to be a fly on the wall to be able to see that argument whenever it happens… Dr. Andonuts frequently did not share his past or current experiments with people because he felt that people would “never understand” why he did it. He was probably right about that, but he might suspect that Jeff would understand it best, being his son and all. But who knew. Claus just had this feeling that Dr. Andonuts would let it slip eventually, though he knew that the old doctor would likely never mention Claus’s name or what had happened to him to anybody. Perhaps he recognized that there was no justification for that, at least.

He could almost see Jeff’s point about not being able to rest until Porky was stopped. If Claus even had the remotest inkling that Porky could escape from his capsule and try something else, he’d never be able to sleep at night until he was certain that Porky was fully dealt with. Would he ever admit that? Probably not, though. One thing they could both agree on was hoping that Porky was suffering. Whether the old king could admit it or not, Claus was certain that Porky was miserable by this point. He was stuck, isolated and immobile forever. Anyone would be driven to madness if stuck in that position for a day, let alone four years.

“Wherever Porky is, I hope he’s suffering,” Jeff said.

“Yeah. Me too,” Claus mumbled.

The subject changed then. Jeff was shocked to be able to relate to people of the future…? What, like people really change over time? But before Claus could comment on that, Jeff was asking about the Mr. Saturns. As much as Claus was stubborn about admitting it, he liked those silly little things too. He’d love to try and turn this around on Jeff somehow, but he really had nothing bad to say about the Mr. Saturns at all.

Stubbornly, Claus crossed his arms. “Yep. Same little freaks as always. Honestly, I’m kinda shocked the fuckers exist off'a Nowhere. They seem like the kinda thing that only Nowhere would have. But I guess we’re lucky ta have ‘em. Otherwise, yer stupid ass might be stuck here and I’d have ta deal with a headache fer the rest a’ my gotdamn life. Only thing that’d be worse is if Porky got outta his fuckin’ hamster ball somehow.” He paused. “Did Dr. A tell ya about that? The… capsule we’re keepin’ that freak in?”

It doesn’t surprise Jeff that the Mr. Saturns are still around and still the same. No matter how many years separate Jeff’s time and the time of Nowhere, he’s sure the species hasn’t evolved, and the thought makes him smile. Another question to ask, if it were someone he were on better terms with, would be how exactly the Mr. Saturn age… is it even remotely possible that they could be the same exact creatures who lived in Saturn Valley or that he and his friends had rescued from Master Belch’s factory?

Most likely, the answer was no, but having someone else he knew around would have been nice.

The subject of Porky catches his attention much more quickly, mostly because Claus provides Jeff with new information about what’s going on, something that people around here haven’t been want to do. Porky was stuck, that much he knew, but when he heard about him being trapped in a sort of capsule, he can’t help the surprised laugh that bubbles out of him.

“He’s imprisoned in a hamster ball?” It was obvious by his tone that he was beyond amused, even delighted, at this news. “That’s brilliant!”

The thought of just how angry Porky Minch had to be alleviates any of the residual fear he’d had about the other boy.

“After all he’s done to everyone, I can’t imagine a more fitting fate.” Living out the rest of his days, prevented from interacting with anyone and getting out to wreak any more havoc… it would be infuriating to Porky and satisfying to everyone he had hurt.

He lets out another chuckle, thinking absently about how finally he and Claus had something in common - they clearly both hated him, and the adage of ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ comes to mind when he thinks about it.

“Finally, Dr. Andonuts invents something beneficial.”

Perhaps Claus wasn’t so bad after all, in the grand scheme of things, because he had been the only one willing to disclose anything like that to him so far - more than Dr. Andonuts, anyway, and it seemed like the redhead might hold a similar annoyance with him, too, or perhaps that was wishful thinking on Jeff’s end.

Porky felt the sting of those childish insults. Perhaps he should have expected this kind of behavior from a kid like Pokey, but he was certain that Pokey would be the one to understand him. So far, that assumption had been proven wrong handily. He pinched his lips closed, stubborn, biting back the bitterness he felt inside. He was not a loser, not now, not ever. Pokey couldn't see it from his view, but Porky had won every game he'd played thus far. This was just another extension of that victory.

He heard the sound of Pokey settling on the ground. Porky wished that he could see the other, but the capsule was not positioned favorably for him to see the ground close by. He would like to see the look on that boy's face. It'd make playing this game a lot easier. Making heads or tails of how Pokey felt was tricky, especially since he seemed to jump between horror, disgust, and annoyance with relative ease. This game was still not very fun, but Porky was trying his best to stay entertained.

"You think I'm a loser because you can't see the full picture," Porky returned. He sighed, heavy. "You didn't see this place back when my empire was thriving. There's always annoying do-gooders like Ness around. They made a whole mess of my city. Look at it now. You would've liked it, I think. It's city made by me, for me. Anything we want, we got. That's what we always wanted, right?" He paused.

"We're destined for greatness, you know. We're smarter than anybody, more ambitious than anybody, and more powerful than anybody. But we don't even have to get our own hands dirty. You'll have a whole army of people to do it all for you." Porky smirked at the memory, though it felt bittersweet now. Of course someone always had to come along and ruin the fun because they didn't want to play. "I was nearly rid of everyone who didn't like me. It was almost perfect. But I got the last laugh anyhow. They can't get to me in here."

Porky chuckled, though it made his chest heave as he burst into another fit of coughing and wheezing. "I... I still win. I always win."

"Haha! Yeah, that dunce didn't know what hit him." Pokey forced a laugh.

'Never going to find us'...

Pokey thought about that for a second. He honestly wished that Ness would chase after him, maybe even give him a second chance.

And maybe he'd even take it and finally be...

Finally, be...

No.

He was already happy with his choice, he was happy right now. He didn't need Ness. He didn't need anyone.

Pokey scoffed. "You? A king. But you seem like such a rotting loser, how could you possibly be the king of this place?"

He didn't want to believe that this thing was supposed to be him in the future. He wasn't going to end up as some old guy in a ball, that was crazy. Totally crazy...

He'd be fine, this was probably the worst of what was going to happen to him. He could deal with blue skin, a few added appendages, and a little bit of sickness from time to time. He wasn't going to end up like Porky. He wouldn't

Pokey sank down onto the ground, sitting against the capsule. He was starting to get lightheaded just thinking about all of this.

Despite Lucas's assumptions, the machine was apparently home-made by Gregory himself. It surprised him, impressed him, even, considering how many people here would hardly call themselves adept with even using technology. He supposed that since Gregory wasn't a Tazmilian, though, that he probably came from a time that was far more comfortable with tech. Pigmasks weren't the only ones who had tech, right? Everyone came from totally different times, so perhaps it wasn't such a stretch to assume Gregory made it-- especially considering Dr. Andonuts was already a prolific inventor before getting here, so he heard.

"Oh!" Lucas exclaimed. He wished to say more, but the way it was said sounded like Gregory had more to say, so he held his tongue.

A couple of beats passed, with Lucas tilting his head curiously to the side, but eventually, Gregory did speak again. This time, he seemed curious about what Lucas had said before about it being useful to others. Lucas nodded to him. He did think it was useful-- after all, lots of people's livelihoods surrounded plants in some way around here. Even his own family could, perhaps, benefit from it. While they didn't grow crops the way Matt and Jill's family did, they still had a garden filled with both flowers and a few varying vegetable and fruit plants.

Lucas was a natural green thumb, but things were sometimes out of his control. It wouldn't change much, but it would be nice to know when something was awry with their garden. It just seemed natural that such an agricultural town would appreciate that kind of thing.

"Well, sure!" he replied. "Lots of us here rely on gardens fer food, an' some of us plant full-on crops 'n' such, so knowin' what might be wrong with a plant is nice ta know. My fam'ly jus' plants flowers 'n' some carrots 'n' strawberries, that kinda thing, but it still might be good knowin' what's goin' on. But, see, then we have some neighbors in town who are horticulturalists, an' they always got all these plants and trees an' whatnot, an' I think they'd like that kinda machine to make sure their plants are all nice 'n' healthy. Or, we have some neighbors who have crops, like I said, fer the whole town, and that would be nice fer them too."

He had gotten to rambling again, and Lucas tried to stop himself at that point. The point was that lots of people would benefit. Abbot and Abbey would be the most excited about it, he thought, though that could be more chalked up to their continued enthusiasm about technology. But wouldn't that make their day, having a machine that helps them with their work. It would be the best of both worlds in such a case.

"I guess I think it's an awful nice machine is all. It's a great idea fer somethin' since it has a use that's good fer everybody."

[ Just outside Lucas’ home now–little more than a few steps past the doorway–the disguised alien decides to simply stay put and wait for the human to fully ready himself.  The quest has already been accepted and set into motion.  Now, he needs only to maintain his established role or ‘character’ in it (irrespective of the marginal hit his pride takes from such a thing) and ensure that the quest ends up being precisely as useful as he had originally conceived.  Otherwise it will be a waste of time for not just the Psion himself, but worse yet? Lucas himself and that would just be unacceptable.  He only breaks from merely waiting, turning back in one smooth and perfectly efficient motion to face Lucas, when the human responds in kind and proceeds to inquire about the device central to this quest.  Absentmindedly, he starts to play with the strap of his satchel bag anew.

Naturally, the genuine kindness and willingness to help catch his attention at first–and in turn, the genuine admiration and respect for heroes that comes with it–but what truly gives him pause is what follows after something so comparatively predictable; an inquiry about the origin of the device in question.  It isn’t a difficult question to answer.  The answer itself is obvious.  Rather… what has him carefully consider the question at all (as opposed to offering an immediate answer) is just how much he can reveal without jeopardizing the ruse he has set into place.  Would it matter if he just answered honestly?  Otherwise lying makes little difference in the greater schematics of things since this entire quest is a lie.  But, something in him–likely of the same origin as the icky sensation from earlier on–has him feel as though he should be honest where he can be.  That it’s the least he can do.  It’s the right thing to do, even if only in a marginal way.  That and maybe, just a bit, there’s something inexplicably bright about someone–especially when the individual can technically be categorized as ‘cool’--displaying interest in something that he supposes he is ‘passionate’ about.  Technically.  No more and no less than that.  Especially when the notation that it could be of assistance to others is dropped in the process of doing so.  An opportunity to do some good.

He wouldn’t exactly consider himself to be an advocate of humanity, but long gone is the irrational and disproportionately negative viewpoint of them, something more neutral settling into the gap consequently left behind.  He doesn’t like humans, but he doesn’t dislike them either.  They’re no better or worse than any other life-form of a similar intelligence and advancement level.  The only thing that makes them stand out to the Psion himself personally (read:  putting aside the Earth’s Power and the exceptional resilience present in its life-forms) would be his own unfortunate history with them and just as importantly, his adoptive mother’s origins in humanity itself.  She was important.  Therefore, so is doing good by humanity, albeit in ways that are thoughtful with minimal risk for it going horrendously wrong.  BUT.  Before anything else, he needs to answer honestly and since the calculated risk level for that (in the context of the ruse) is low, he can only gain from doing so.  ]

—-‘The machine is not of Pigmask origin.  I created the guiding schematics and constructed it myself.  The design and construction of machines with varying functions is a core competency that I have had very little trouble in acquiring several years prior to this moment.’

[ Gregory pauses, hesitation bringing his words to a skidding halt despite the conclusiveness implied by what he had managed to express in monotone.  He ceases playing with the strap of his bag and instead settles upon gripping it.  He doesn’t want to veer off-course too much.  Doesn’t want to dip into something so irreparably personal, no matter how shallow or slight.  But.  He’s also exceedingly curious.  Curious not just about the idea that others could benefit from something of his–odd and disjunct as the idea may feel–but about what Lucas’ thoughts are surrounding the matter specifically.  A moment or two more and the disguised alien stoically pushes on.  ]

‘... do you really believe that such a device could be beneficial to others?’

cowardly how no one ever lets Nana get parented /adopted by any of the villagers. any time she shows up in a fic she just gets shipped with Lucas. weak asf

recklessinventor​:

How open they are to helping him, even in a small way like with providing him with some small plants to keep, really does surprise Jeff. It wasn’t like the people back home weren’t friendly, of course, especially at Snow Wood, but this was the most generous that complete strangers had really been to him.

When the man outstretches his hand for a handshake, Jeff takes it and gives a small smile when they shake hands. It does remind him how pale and thin he is compared to those living in Tazmily; just another way he felt separate from everyone else. It was very kind of them to be this welcoming when he was someone from the past that they didn’t even really need to speak to.

“Oh, well… my friend isn’t originally from Foggyland, he just goes there to school with me, so his family lives a warmer climate. That might help.” Tony liked to read up on and study all sorts of plants, and usually a flower or two adorned their window and thrived despite the lack of sun, but what would Jeff say were among his favorites…?

“Perhaps… any kind of fern? Or Clovers. He likes lilacs, too. But really, I’m sure he would be excited to study any plant you’ve got. Poinsettas sort of remind me of home, too. Snow and Christmas and all.”

Did they even have Christmas here? Jeff was positive he’d been coming off as odd.

This train of thought is also broken when the young woman states that the plants might decorate Dr. Andonuts’ office, and for a few moments, Jeff isn’t sure where this was coming from. He’s about to ask what she means by it before realizing: he’s Dr. Andonuts’ son, after all, and isn’t an adult, and doesn’t have a place to stay. Of course they’d assume that Jeff was staying with him.

“I’m certain some decoration would help with Dr. Andonuts’ apartment, if you want to give him some.” Those poor plants. He could come and water them, or ask Lucas to help, he supposes. “But, I, er… don’t actually live with him at the moment.

I know it’s rather unusual, but I… I’ve been staying in the, uh, the time machine.”

His voices lilts slightly higher at the end of his sentence, almost like a question, and he shrugs his shoulders apologetically.

“I’m sure it’s got room for plants, too, though. I’ll make sure I take good care of them for you.”

In the boy’s musings about what plants may remind him of his friend, Jeff threw out a few different suggestions: ferns, clovers, more warm weather-type plants.  Jeff was in luck, then, as Tazmily was warm nearly all year-round.  Abbey excitedly bounced on her heels, already preparing to let Jeff know the good news.  They didn’t have clover, but they had ferns and lilacs, plus the poinsettias since Jeff seemed open to having them.  They nodded and hummed at his associating poinsettias with winter and Christmas.

“Then that’s perfect!” Abbey interjected, still overjoyed.

However, the conversation continued on to an unexpected place.  When Jeff gets to the subject of Dr. Andonuts’s apartment, he admitted that he was not living with his father at all.  Abbot and Abbey tilted their heads almost in perfect sync, curious.  Why wouldn’t he live with his father?  Abbot had seen the inside of the apartment, and while it was very junky, he didn’t think it was too bad to live in, certainly.  He couldn’t imagine living in a time machine.  Abbot had caught glimpses of the machine Dr. Andonuts was working on, and if Jeff’s was anything like that, then it was awfully cramped.

That did concern the two of them.  What kind of father was Dr. Andonuts if he allowed his son to sleep out in the time machine instead of in a proper home?  Something wasn’t right, but both knew it wasn’t their right to pry.  But Abbot didn’t feel right just leaving it unaddressed entirely.  He wouldn’t press for information.  Abbot had hated it whenever people tried to pry into his own home life as a child-- and while he did his best not to project, he still felt a pang of sympathy when thinking about the whole thing.

Abbot and Abbey exchanged worried glances, but they tried not to look so nervous.  Abbey nervously wrung her hands nonetheless, always wearing her heart on her sleeve, even when she’d rather not.  But Abbot kept himself together a bit more.  “Well, that’s a shame.  Sorry ta hear that,” Abbot murmured, then smoothed it over by continuing, “but hey, we do got some ferns ‘n’ lilacs fer ya!  You cin also look at some’a our other stuff, you might find some other plants ya like.  We got gerberas, sunflowers, saplin’s, some marigolds, maybe some other stuff... if we knew how long you was stayin’, we could see about plantin’ some seeds if ya have any requests.  I collect seeds, so we got lots ta offer.”

Abbey fidgeted with her hands, shifting uneasily on her feet, as she appeared to be in thought.  “I’m tryin’ ta think if there ain’t a place you cin stay.  I don’ think it’s healthy ta stay in a small space like that... oh, I hate ta assume, but I seen Dr. A’s machine, and it’s awful cramped, ain’t it?”

“Bad fer the back,” Abbot suggested lightheartedly.

“Yes, oh, goodness!  Huh...”  Abbey paused to think a little more.  “Well, the Yado ain’t a hotel no more, an’ I don’ think they’ve had a vacant apartment in a dawg’s age. Lessee, ‘cause Bud an’ Lou live there, Lisa an’ her kids, Donna part a’ the time, DCMC ‘n’ Duster, plus Venus an’ Elmore...”  She counted out the groups on her fingers.  “Yep, thass everybody.  Plus Jackie’s family an’ Sebastian...”

“Ain’t no way they got room,” Abbot concluded.

The two looked at each other again.  If push came to shove, they wouldn’t mind extending an invitation to Jeff to stay with them for a while, if he was comfortable with that.  They just didn’t like the idea of him being stuck in that machine one bit.  There had to be a place for him.  Suddenly, Abbey’s lit up with understanding, and she bumped Abbot with the back of her hand.

“Oh!  Oh, oh!  What about the Children’s House?” she suggested.  “Ain’t nobody live there but Nana now!  Me an’ Abbot an’ a bunch’a other kids used ta live there, so it’s got plenny a’ room!”

Abbot lightly smacked his forehead.  It was such an obvious solution now that he thought about it.  The Children’s House had been the home of all of the orphaned kids of Tazmily.  All those kids had grown up now, save for Nana.  Abbot and Abbey had grown up there, as had Paul and Linda, Isaac, Bateau, Tessie, Lisa... quite a few of them, now that he thought about it.  It was always meant to house multiple people, and while half of the Children’s House had been repurposed for more apartments, there was still room left for Jeff.  Nana wouldn’t mind sharing, would she?

“Well, ain’t that perfect!” Abbot agreed.  “You really oughta stay in a real place, ya know?  I think that’s pro’ly better fer ya... where is that machine anyway?  If it’s too far out, ya might get attacked by chimeras, and ain’t nobody want that.”  Abbot paused and scratched his neck.  Are they being too pushy?  Too... parental, maybe?  “Well-l-l, we don’t wanna assume too much of ya.  Thass yer choice, but... there’s place for ya if ya need it.  Children’s House is all for kids who got no place ta live.  I bet Nana wouldn’t mind the company one bit.”  He smiled reassuringly at Jeff.

A ghost haunts Tazmily Village --- or at least, so they say. The spectre taking the form of a forsaken, grotesque child has sent shivers down the spines of Tazmily's residents --- and it's chosen Lucas's home as the site of tonight's haunting.

Though, if Lucas were to enter their kitchen, he'd find the boy throwing open cabinets, rifling through shelves with empty sleeves as if desperately searching for something. With all the noise he's been making, however, the ghost doesn't seem to expect Lucas to have come to investigate... or even notice him, given his back is turned.

...Until the ghost's head turns a perfect 180 degrees to face him.

The house often creaked and groaned at night; settling comfortably before repeating the same process again the very next night. Lucas used to fear those noises as a young boy, his imagination running rampant in the utter silence of his family's sleep, the last one left awake many evenings. He couldn't help it. He was a sensitive, nervous boy. As he grew older, Lucas learned not to fret about it. It felt more, then, that the house was alive, and that was something to welcome, not fear.

Even when they got the occasional odd mouse running about their kitchen, or Boney moving about sneakily in hopes of finding leftover crumbs from dinner, Lucas could sleep through it. But not this. It started off as a little murmur of sounds, a slight rustling clink of glasses or pans, that made Lucas wonder if they had mice again, or if they had not put the pans away properly to avoid their shifting in the night.

The noise grew to be too much, as cabinets were slammed as they opened, glasses and pans and silverware clicking loudly. Lucas sat up in bed. It didn't sound like Dad or Claus getting up for something. They'd never be so inconsiderate of the noise-- both of them such light sleepers already. Lucas glanced to Claus across the room, but he was asleep still, far as he could tell. On the other side, Flint was dead asleep just the same.

Lucas's heart raced. He slowly climbed out of bed, cautious with the noise that he himself made, worried that he would alert his family or whoever was rifling about their kitchen. The floorboards creaked ever-so-slightly underneath his feet, and so he crept carefully forward, nearly on tiptoes, until he reached the darkened kitchen, only lit by the pale moonlight that poured through the back window.

Before him, a young man, younger than him if he had to guess, haphazardly moved about the kitchen. The sight surprised him; Lucas had no clue of what to expect, but he hadn't expected somebody so... young. But there was something off about him, something that Lucas could not wholly place. He did not notice the glaring elements missing from the boy's body. His adrenaline was rushing, and all he could focus on was sorting out just why he was here. Lucas's lips parted to speak, some courage retrieved now that he saw the figure, until his head twisted around directly to face Lucas, the body remaining turned away.

His eyes were wide as saucers in reply, and Lucas drew back a step. He held back any noise but a squeak of surprise and fear. He kept one hand closed to his chest, closed in a loose fist, though not maliciously. This entity... Lucas's mind rushed, but he could recall the rumor floating about Tazmily over the past week or so: a ghost, seen wandering about various homes and across town, resembling a child. Lucas had not yet seen it, nor had any of his friends or family.

But those who saw it swore by it. Lisa was nearly hysterical in repeating the tale of the ghost boy in Thomas's store late one night to her friends over by the well, and that story had spread widely throughout Tazmily since. Most of the others had blown it off, though Tazmilians had long since accepted the existence of ghosts. After all, Osohe Castle was filled with them, but they were formless, like sheets, and typically friendly. Some were hostile, but one would struggle to discern them from the friendly ones at a quick glance. This one was wholly different. Perhaps the people of Tazmily did not like to think about such an entity being real.

The eyes, black as ink. The body, missing its lower limbs now that Lucas took in more of what he was seeing, the absence seeming less so in the dark of night. He didn't necessarily look malicious, but Lucas struggled to see past his own fear. Still, he did not move to speak or do anything at all-- not at first. He glanced back uncertainly, worried for the other members of his family, still asleep, but only for a half-second. He did not feel comfortable taking his eyes off of the boy for very long.

Should he say something? Could he try to reason with him? Lucas didn't want to fight if he did not have to. It looked like the boy was searching for something. As for what, Lucas was utterly clueless. Now that he was collecting his thoughts, that was the question he decided to approach with in hopes of finding some common ground with the boy. If not, he would figure out what to do. Perhaps asking the ghosts of Osohe if they knew of him, or what to do about it.

Lucas swallowed, his throat dry already. "Wh- What are you..." he started, his high voice barely audible. He cleared his throat and raised his voice to be better heard, but still low in the silent night. "What are you lookin' for?"

( that anniversary image for M3 is making my whole fucking night i can't BELIEVE i got to see some of my villagers again!!! PAULL.... but god i love that Scamp is there, Donna, Isaac, Biff, Bateau........ it's so wonderful seeing them, you have no idea )

IM GONNA FUCKING CRY THE PICTURE THE MOTHER HOBONICHI TWITTER ACCOUNT POSTED FOR THE 17TH ANNIVERSARY IS SO CUTE