#i need sleep sso bad
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i can't write but have this
#narilamb#cotl lamb#cotl narinder#the one who waits#cotl aym#cotl baal#cotl leshy#comic#my art#digital#tw blood#tw body horror#a little bit#i need sleep sso bad
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Raising the Minimum Wage and Its Effects
Ko-fi prompt from [name redacted]:
So, what does raising the minimum wage really do to the rest of the economy?
Hecking Complicated! I think I might need a doc of just. References for this one. But here are a few elements!
(Also, the Congressional Budget Office has an interactive model of how different changes to the minimum wage could affect various parts of the economy, like poverty rates and overall employment. Try it out!)
Reduction of Benefits
A common claim that is used to argue against the minimum wage is that it will result in companies cutting hours for their employees in order to recoup losses by having to provide benefits to fewer employees. This isn't 'the minimum wage is bad' so much as 'corporations are assholes,' but it is unfortunately still a thing that happens. (Harvard Business Review)
This is not a problem with the minimum wage itself, in my opinion, but these issues are emblematic of the weight that self-serving elements of capitalism carry. The low minimum wage is just one part of many that contribute to the current wealth disparity; if things like health insurance were universal, then bosses wouldn't be as able to cut them to employees in order to save money. Current regulations incentivize companies to hire more part-time workers than full-time, in order to avoid paying out benefits. Some cities have enacted Fair Workweek Laws in order to combat these approaches, though the impact is as of yet uncertain (Economic Policy Institute, 2018). Early reports, like the Year Two Worker Impact Report on Seattle’s Secure Scheduling Ordinance, do seem to indicate positive results, though:
In addition, the SSO led to increases in job satisfaction and workers’ overall well-being and financial security. In particular, the Secure Scheduling Ordinance had the following impacts for Seattle workers:
- increased work schedule stability and predictability
- increased job satisfaction and satisfaction with work schedules
- increased overall happiness and sleep quality, and reduced material hardship.
(direct quote from the Year Two Eval)
Unfortunately, these were approved at the earliest in 2015 (San Francisco's Formula Retail Employee Rights Ordinances, which went into effect in March 2016), which means that none of them were in play for longer than five years before COVID-19 ground the planet's economy to a near halt. I tried to find results for the San Francisco laws, but I couldn't find any studies for it; I did find an article from March 2023 that summarized which cities in California have brought in fair workweek laws, though, so maybe someone could use that as a jumping off point (What Retailers Should Know About California Scheduling Ordinances).
Companies prevented from cutting benefits by cutting hours would probably find another way to do the same thing, but let's be real: keeping the minimum wage low won't stop them from cutting every corner possible. EPI has some articles, like "The role of local government in protecting workers’ rights," that talk about how these measures can be, and have been, implemented to protect workers from cost-cutting employers.
Cutting the hours and benefits of part-time employees is a real, genuine concern to have about raising the minimum wage, and those need to be anticipated and combated in concert with raising the minimum wage. However, it is not a reason to keep the minimum wage depressed. It's just a consequence to be aware of and plan for.
Passing Costs On To Customers
A common argument against raising the minimum wage is that companies will raise costs in order to cover the raise in expenses, to a degree that nullifies the wage hike. This is, um. Uh.
Really easily debunked?
Like, really easily.
Over a ten-plus year period, research found that a 10 percent increase in the minimum wage resulted in just a 0.36 percent increase in prices passed on to the consumer at grocery stores. A similar Seattle-based study showed that supermarket food prices were not impacted by their minimum wage increase.
- (Minimum Wage is Not Enough, Drexel U.)
I've talked about it before, but in some cases it's just a matter of how US-based labor is such a comparatively small portion of costs for medium-to-large businesses that raising wages doesn't raise corporate expenditures that much.
That said, some companies rely on drastically underpaying their employees, like Walmart. Walmart's revenue in 2020 was approximately $520 billion (Walmart Annual Report, page 29). Now, this report doesn't actually tell us what amount is spent on labor, but it does give us the "Operating, selling, general and administrative expenses, as a percentage of net sales." This is, to quote BDC, "[including] rent and utilities, marketing and advertising, sales and accounting, management and administrative salaries."
So, wages are just part of the (checks) 20.9% of revenue that is operating SG&A expenses. But maybe I'm being mean to Walmart! After all, the gross profit margin is only 24.1%, so only 3.2% is left for those poor shareholders!
Oh, oh, that means the profit is still over 16billion USD? And Walmart cites having 2.2 million associates in that same report? And that's about $7,500 per employee per year that's being withheld? And that's before we take costs up by like three cents per product?
Which, circling back: A study from Berkeley by the name of "The Pass-Through of Minimum Wages into US Retail Prices: Evidence from Supermarket Scanner Data" found that
a 10% minimum wage hike translates into a 0.36% increase in the prices of grocery products. This magnitude is consistent with a full pass-through of cost increases into consumer prices.
Of course, Walmart does sell more than just groceries, but isn't it interesting that raising a minimum wage resulted in such a small cost increase? If we assume this is linear (it's probably not, but I have so many numbers going on already), then doubling wages from 7.25 to 14.50 would still mean only a 3.6% increase costs! Your $5 gallon of milk would go up to [checks] $5.18.
Hm. Those 18 cents might be meaningful to our poorest citizens, but if those poorest citizens are more likely to be raised out of poverty by raising the minimum wage, then it might just be the case that they too can afford the new price of milk, and have more money left over for things like... rent. Or education. Or healthcare.
Maybe even a cost cutting loss leader like Walmart can reasonably increase its wages. After all, they still have 13 stores on Long Island, where the minimum wage is $15, and has been since 2021.
(I could have just cited the Berkeley study and moved on, but after a certain point I was too deep in parsing the Walmart report to not include it.)
But also... minimum wage increases are often staggered. They start out on the bigger companies, which have the resources to accommodate those changes (unless they've been doing stock buybacks), and then later on the smaller businesses, now that a portion of the economy (those working for the big companies) has the spare change to spend money at those smaller businesses that are raising their prices by a little more than the corporations.
And at that point, all I can really say is, well.
If you can't afford to pay your employees a living wage, you're not an oppressed company. You're just a failing company. Sorry, Walmart&Co, your business model is predicated on fucking over poor people, and so it's a bad business model.
Being a dickhead, while successful, is not actually 'smart' business practice.
(This doesn't even get into the international impacts, like what an "American companies should pay higher wages abroad, especially if they charge higher-than-American pricing for their products, but also at factories where we know they're committing human rights abuses" approach could be but this is already long as fuck so that'll have to wait for another post.)
Anyway.
Inflation
This one is tied into the cost argument above, but like...
Inflation is already a thing? Inflation is happening whether we raise the minimum wage or not. Costs go up whether we raise the minimum wage or not. Who is this argument serving? Not the people who can't afford rent, surely.
Quoting the earlier-mentioned Drexel report (red highlights mine):
While the minimum wage has been adjusted numerous times since its implementation in 1938, it has failed to keep up with inflation and the rising cost of living. The purchasing power of minimum wage reached its peak in 1968 and steadily declined since. If it had kept up with inflation from that point it would have reached at least $10.45 in 2019. Instead, its real value continues to go down, meaning minimum wage employees are essentially being paid less each year.
Additionally, some economists argue if minimum wage increased with U.S. productivity over the years, it would be set currently at $26 per hour today and poverty rates would be close to non-existent with little negative impact on the economy. However, because gradual change was avoided, the extra funds were instead shifted to CEO compensation.
A sudden change in wages now could possibly make a more noticeable impact on the economy, which is often cited as reasoning for a slower increase over time moving forward. Gradual increases with inflation and productivity could have avoided any potential economic ripple effects from wage increases and should be considered in ongoing plans.
Increasing Unemployment
A common argument is that the unemployment rate would jump as employers were forced to let employees go. Assuming they didn't just hire more employees so they could give them less hours in order to cut benefits... not really!
A 2021 article from Berkeley News summarizes the issue, along with several others, covering some thirty years of research that started with "Minimum Wages and Employment: A Case Study of the Fast-Food Industry in New Jersey and Pennsylvania," published in 1993. They also touch on the issue of subminimum wages for tipped workers, though they do not address the subminimum wages set for underage and disabled workers.
“A minimum wage increase doesn’t kill jobs,” said Reich, chair of UC Berkeley’s Center on Wage and Employment Dynamics (CWED) . “It kills job vacancies, not jobs. The higher wage makes it easier to recruit workers and retain them. Turnover rates go down. Other research shows that those workers are likely to be a little more productive, as well.”
- Berkeley News article, "Even in small businesses, minimum wage hikes don’t cause job losses, study finds"
Lower turnover rates also save money for employers, as it causes them to have much lower HR expenses. How much money do you think large employers spend on using sites like Indeed or Glassdoor to find new employees?
This article from Richmond Fed does, admittedly, encourage a slightly grayer analysis:
In a 2021 review of some of the literature, [researchers] reported that 55.4 percent of the papers that they examined found employment effects that were negative and significant. They argued that the literature provides particularly compelling evidence for negative employment effects of an increased minimum wage for teens, young adults, the less educated, and the directly affected workers. On the other hand, in a 2021 Journal of Economic Perspectives article that analyzed the effect of the minimum wage on teens ages 16-19, Alan Manning of the London School of Economics and Political Science wrote that although the wage effect was sizable and robust, the employment effect was neither as easy to find nor consistent across estimations.
Thus, although the literature supports an effect on employment among the most affected workers, it does not appear to be as sizable as theory might suggest.
The International Labor Organization has a similarly mixed result when taking a variety of studies into account. (I left in their own reference links.)
In high-income countries, a comprehensive reviews of about 70 studies, shows that estimates range between large negative employment effects to small positive effects. But the most frequent finding is that employment effects are close to zero and too small to be observable in aggregate employment or unemployment statistics (1). Similar conclusions emerge from meta-studies (quantitative studies of studies) in the United States (2), the United Kingdom (3), and in developed economies in general (4). Other reviews conclude that employment effects are less benign and that minimum wages reduce employment opportunities for less-skilled workers (5).
And there's the 60-page "Impacts of minimum wages: review of the international evidence" from University of Massachusetts Amherst, which looks at data from both the US and UK. I'll admit I didn't read this one beyond the introduction, because this is very long already.
Not all US studies suggest small employment effects, and there are notable counter examples. However, the weight of the evidence suggests the employment effects are modest. Moreover, recent research has helped reconcile some of the divergent findings. Much of this divergence concerns how different methods handle economic shocks that affected states differently in the 1980s and early 1990s, a period with relatively little state-level variation in minimum wages.
I'd encourage you to think of it this way:
Employer A pays $7.25/hr. Employer B also pays $7.25/hr. An employee works 25hrs/week for Employer A, and 20hr/wk for Employer B.
The minimum wage goes up to $15/hr. Employer B cuts the employee. Employer A cuts employees as well, but not this one, and instead increases their hours to 30/wk for greater coverage.
The employee has gone from just under $400/wk to $450/wk. They lost a job, sure, but the end result... They have an extra fifteen hours of free time per week! Or more! With time to level out, you have less jobs, but more employment, because people aren't taking up multiple jobs (that someone else could have) just to survive.
This is a very, very simplified example, which doesn't take into account graduated wage increases (see the NYS labor table) or the benefits issue from before, but it does show the reality that "less jobs" doesn't necessarily mean "less pay" or "fewer employed" people, when so many of those employed at this pay are working multiple jobs.
Even the Washington Post agrees that the wage hike wouldn't cost as many jobs as conventional wisdom claims, and they're owned by Bezos. (Though I recognize the name of the article's author as the same person behind that 60-page Amherst report, so there's that to consider.)
The Kellogg Institute also points out that individual workers were, on average, more productive after receiving the pay increase, so the drop in the bottom line was softened. This is a bit debatable; the results varied based on the level of monitoring, but it's worth noting that most minimum wage jobs are pretty high-intensity, high-monitoring. Goodness knows you don't get a whole lot of time to yourself outside of the critical eye of your shift lead or customers if you're working fast food. They also note a decrease in profits, but I'd point out that they speak specifically of profits, not share of revenue.
To explain the difference: imagine you sell $100 of product in a day. The product cost you $50. Overhead (rent, utilities, taxes) cost you $10. Labor cost you $15. Profit, then, was $25, or $25.
A 16% reduction in the profit does not mean you now retain $11. It means that you retain 16% less of the $25. You now retain $21.
(This is, as with many of my examples, INCREDIBLY simplified, but I need to illustrate what the article's talking about, and I don't have infographics.)
Some other articles on the topic are from The Quarterly Journal of Economics, Business for a Fair Wage, The Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco (more critical), the Center on Wage and Employment Dynamics, the Center for Economic and Policy Research, UCLA Anderson, Vox, and The Intelligencer, which cites another Berkeley article. I do not claim to have read all of these, especially the really long ones, but the links are there if you want to look into them.
In the interest of showing research from groups that do not serve my own political views, I'm going to link an article from the Cato Institute; I do encourage you to read that one with a grain of salt, given that it's written by a libertarian thinktank, and they are just as dedicated to hunting for research that serves their political views as I am. There were a few other libertarian articles I came across, but the way they presented information kept feeling really duplicitous so I just... am not linking those, or the leftist ones I am also uncomfortable with due to the whole "I'm totally not tricking you" vibes. Also eventually I just got tired, there are so many articles on this and I am just one blogger who is not actually working for a magazine or thinktank, I am working for my own personal tumblr.
Negatively Impacting Slightly-Higher Paid Employees
Did you know that raising the minimum wage affects more than just those making minimum? It affects those just above as well. It's referred to as the ripple effect of minimum wage hikes by this Brookings article. They estimate that a wage hike would affect nearly 30% of the country's workforce.
"Price adjustments provide the principal adjustment mechanism for minimum wage increases: higher labor costs are passed through to consumers, mainly for food consumed away from home. Such an increase does not deter restaurant customers. Price increases are also detectable for grocery stores (Leung 2018; Renkin, Montialoux and Siegenthaler 2019), but not more generally. The effect on inflation is therefore extremely small."
- "Likely Effects of a $15 Federal Minimum Wage by 2024," Testimony prepared for presentation at the hearing of the House Education and Labor Committee, Washington, DC (2019)
This overlaps with general criticisms of widening income equality, citing an AEA article I cannot access since it's behind a paywall. I wonder if it touches on companies like Amazon being headquartered in the city and manipulating the job market by sheer size? I can only speculate.
Plus, there are the health benefits! Which are mostly connected to lessening poverty, and through that lessening stress and increasing healthcare access, but still! Some of these results are debated, but I'd need to know more about the details to know how they're related (University of Washington).
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I've spent most of the day on this, so if you guys have made it this far and are interested in supporting me, please donate to my ko-fi or commission an article. (Preferably for more than the base price; I'm effectively working at a fraction of minimum wage myself, which is ironic considering the theme of this post.)
(I realistically shouldn't have spent more than two or three hours on this, but I have so many strong opinions on the subject that I couldn't stop.)
(Also: There were so many more sources I didn't even get to read the basic premise of because it was so repetitive after a while.)
#economics#stock market#capitalism#phoenix talks#ko fi#ko fi prompts#minimum wage#minimum wage increase#research
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Oki so it's 4am so I do need to sleep but I stayed up to get some pics for you guys. I went out primarily looking for shorter hairstyles and tbh I was kinda disappointed in the hair we got, I included pics of the ones I found. They aren't bad I just found a lack of variety compared to longer styles.
I also tested a few varieties of clothing (I will go through more later)
Tbh the biggest grievance I have atm is the body types. We do need to have bigger body types but preferably not at the expense of slimmer bodies. It's just a little disappointing to find that even the "slim" type is still bigger than my own body and I'm not even that skinny. (Poorly worded and I actually did figure out what was bothering me, the body looks very childlike and I kinda thought the mc was supposed to be at least 16 or 17. Doesn't help when I compare it to my own proportions when I am a 22 year old womens. Still wish the shoulders were broader and legs longer tho.)
I'd love to see more masculine figures as well (broader shoulders would go a long way).
Overall though it is an improvement on what we have currently and I'm quite pleased, I can't wait to see how where SSO takes this :D
PS: I think maybe the legs need to be longer? Something about the proportions is bothering me.
I will also post pics of all the faces and stuff but not tonight I seriously have not slept enough.
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Quarter to 2 am and i am scrolling through tumblr and my eyes are so fuzzy and i need sleep and i cant even read the text it sso bad what am i doing i need to like sleep
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starshine legacy playthrough part 4.3
i had a lot of glitches with the dialogue there… what did i miss… guess i’ll find out! ouch burnt my finger on my poor laptop
Level 3 - The Destiny of the Soulriders
oh ok thanks game!!
lisa referenced her dad but alex’s mom has a Portrait! impressive! and her roots are brown! so alex’s hair probably is also brown! that makes sense bc the Prophecy Fortold that the warrior would have brown hair but only the sightseer has brown hair. been wondering about that
girl WHAT are you planning with a lil kid wearing a soda hat
ah. she’s ransoming him for the horse. ok
i love how anne was all “ugh lisa’s crazy, talking about magic powers and talking to her horse… what’s that? my horse is talking to me? nah, i’m just stressed…” but alex never even questioned it. she just went straight from “oh, that’s my horse whose thoughts i can now hear” to “whoa, just like lisa and linda! cool…” like she just got shown a psychic vision and she’s not at all concerned about the mystical parts of that. good for her!
like she JUST got initiated into secret magic society and she doesn’t even know if mr herman has heard about it or believes in it or anything but instantly she’s like THIS HAPPENED in full confidence that he’ll believe it. alex rocks
FINALLY SOMEONE ADMITS THE PATH IS TREATUEROUSE ! Treah. trecharuous. treacherous . thanks autocorrecet
we just fell off a cliff into the sea… rip alex.
aw rats! fripp says katja is with the baddies… …wait. wait, was katja the cool emo violinist who made storms who i met in sso? was that her??? i just noticed recently that the four girls in the sso loading image are Those Four… the plot thickenings!!
MURDER POWER MURDER POWER
so funny… big complex explanation to alex on how to use her powers by being in two worlds at once and then he just says “(click left mouse button)”. incredibly dangerous powers that can never be used… click left mouse button
wwwwWWAIT A SECOND! katja’s face is on the GLAMOUR POSTERS!!
Level 4 - the legend of Garnok
alex just said she would simply Stun the goons with her power, the dangerous power, the power that takes life away,
in this chapter we learn that Garnok exists and is bad & lisa’s dad who works for the dark core just got summoned to the garnok project work site, so garnok is the thing sleeping in the spaceship under the sea and they’re about to be raised! wahooooo
Level 5 - Dark Core Garnok Project
aughh there’s 5 goons to murder without getting caught and i’ve been caught twice so far. this is major because there’s a cutscene and a trail to follow every time i have to restart the mission. murder is hard
wait… there’s also a tunnel that goes under the sea straight to the garnok project that i’ve been walking past??? so what’s the place with the fight i’ve been going to, then??? mysterious…
ah, ok. gotta fight the goons in order to open the grate they’ve got on the tunnel to keep kids like me from breaking and entering. wah
I JUST ACCIDENTALLY SOULSTRIKED TIN CAN INSTEAD OF MOUNTING HIM
HE SURVIVED BUT EAHSFHKDJHN
i got to the keycard that i need to pick up but i couldn’t click to pick it up because it just kept doing the soulstrike again… guess i need to kill all of the goons first in order to get it…
i have lost track of the number of times i’ve restarted this mission
I GOT THE KEYCARD!!! and only killed 1 goon!
love it when you’re eavesdropping on a guy and he says “good thing that scary girl doesn’t have this book that i’m holding, otherwise she’d be able to defeat us! lmao ammiright lads”
NO I MISSED
phew! it onlys sent me back to the tunnel!! i don’t have to get the keycard again!! thanks game!!!
missed again
my blast went over their head this time
ok we did all that to get a book about rules that even evil people follow during fights, and using it we can now banish people to the shadow dimension???? isn’t that anne’s thing? oh well
last part
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Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 12: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression
(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)
Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should rest for the night in an abandoned barn ...
~
Somewhat nervous about being out in the woods alone at night, he decides to try finding a more hidden sleeping spot, further off from the path. Though with his injuries, and his exhaustion, he knows he shouldn't walk too far. He tells himself that he'll just adventure a little, only an hour or so, and if he can't find anything better by then, he'll just give up and set a tent in some bushes somewhere......
After 30 minutes, he finally stumbles across an old barn. He can't see it very well with just a trickle of moonlight and the dull glow of his flickering lantern, but it seems to have not been used for many years. Structurally sound enough (at least he hopes), yet shrouded in moss and blankets of various overgrowth..
It takes a few moments to pluck away all of the ivy blocking his path, but he soon closes the rickety doors behind him to focus on the interior. There's no space to light a fire or set up a real tent, and he'll have to block a few holes in the walls so wild animals don't sneak in, but, there are a few surprisingly clear looking sections scattered amongst all the musty hay bales and cobwebs. He chooses a "cozy" spot in the corner, hidden behind a few dusty crates. Though he tosses about uncomfortably in his bedding for quite a while, he's eventually able to fall into a peaceful sleep.….....
..
Suddenly, he's startled awake by rustling, catching a dark blurred movement in front of him. He's smart enough to always sleep wearing his backpack over his chest so nobody could just grab it without him noticing, but it seems for the first time in all his travels... someone is actually trying to. Still half asleep, he clings to the bag and yelps, pushing and tumbling away into a moldy wooden barrel after an initial struggle. He pulls himself up to face the hooded figure now looming above him, entirely obscured aside from their vague cloak-ish shape outlined by the faint moonlight behind them..
The Adventurer calls out in a shaky attempt at an aggressive tone, "Wh-wh.. whAT are YOU DOIng? WHo-whu..UHHH??? aahhhG"
"Give me the bag." The hooded figure speaks in a smooth, stern, yet calm voice, slowly taking a step forwards. The cat scrambles to The Adventurer's side, hissing and giving a low growl..
"w-WELL , uh,, sORRY , n-NO , I would rrrather not DO THAT, I h-- I uh-- I don't have even anythi- I don't even have ANYTHING, I mea- wh-wh HWaAt d-do I look RICH to you?? EUggh-" he gulps loudly, holding back nervous vomit, "B-BACK OFF!! you-.. f- uh.. THIEF!!!!!"
The hooded figure pauses for a moment, as if re-strategizing how to approach the situation. "Look, kid, I don't want to hurt you. But I need you to give me that egg."
"WHWh-what egg? I-I don.. DON'T have an EGG, I'm uh…aCTUALLY a-allergic to eggs, s-sso-"
"The egg that's in a wooden box. In your bag. Don't waste your time bullshitting me.. Come on, let's make this quick." The hooded figure extends their arm, motioning to be handed the egg.
Still desperately fighting not to throw up everywhere, The Adventurer simply sits on the floor, staring up at the hooded figure blankly as he tries to think.. Is he seriously being robbed for the first time? Is that like, a cool milestone, or a bad one? He's read about it in adventuring books before but... the reality feels so much different.. How can he get out of this? Strategies scatter through his mind, but he's too shaken to find any clear answers.. What should he do?
-
Additional Information
the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has
#paventure posting#poll#polls#choose your own adventure#for the record - if he had gone to the stranger's cottage. walked all the way to the villiage. or kept walking all night. the hooded figure#wouldnt have had a safe place to corner him and would have had to wait for another day. all the other options#(abandoned barn. sleep out in the woods. etc.) would lead to the same thing#The dice lady was letting him know someone has been following him. perhaps multiple someones#I was also going to include the options 'threaten to blow up the entire barn with magic and then nobody gets the egg'#and an option for him to just throw the egg on the ground and break it#but those seem more out of character and also breaking the egg would end his quest anyway since he would have nothing#to bring the Innkeeper's brother anymore lol#also a 'tell the cat to attack the robber' option but I was afraid too many people would choose that thinking it was#funny or a cool way out of the situation when like.. realistically the cat would get hurt actually and I don't want to endanger them#or have to write about them getting harmed lol. WHICH I know is a choice. I could be like 'wow the cat is actually a#magical cat and they explode the person and win hooray!' . but it feels too far fetched given the hooded stranger's background#they're not going to be like completely incapacitated by one small cat#things must be goofy and silly and fantasy but also.. underlying realism to an extent#I held back on not making him get more injuries after sailing down a river in a dinky little raft because I really think thats probably#quite dangerous hjknjk. I stated it was a very slow moving river specifically to make it seem a little more plausible but#I feel like in real life the current would just smash your raft into a rock in like 10 minutes lol#ANYWAY.. uh oh. boy in danger!#he can get out of it though. I believe in him#somehow an unskilled swagless penniless nervousboy can still make his way in the world#(he does have SOME skills ghhgh.. just like. not really adventuring suited ones. since he just started adventuring like#less than a week ago and has no training or practical experience aside from reading a lot of storybooks)#also I know his belt thing is on the wrong shoulder... shhhh... I still don't feel good and drew very quickly and am not#going back to make changes lol
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Aragon Research Selected RPost as the Hot Vendor of the Year for eSignatures and Digital Transaction Management
What makes a “Hot” eSign Vendor “Hot” rather than “Hlēow”?
The next time you’re having a bad day (traffic, spilled coffee, didn’t get your full 8 hours of sleep, mixed up food delivery order), just think of what life was like for those living centuries ago in, say, medieval England. To quote the English philosopher, Hobbes, life then was “nasty, brutish, and short.” And this is coming from a guy who lived when indoor plumbing hadn’t been invented yet.
Life expectancy for the average, non-land-owning medieval person was around 27 years! Even if you managed to live like (or be) a king, you were only going to add five or so years onto this expectancy. There are two not-too-surprising culprits for this: war and disease.
Yes, we still have plenty of war and disease going on in 2023, but these are fairly limited in scope and reach compared to what the average medieval person would experience. War touched nearly every person back then (there was the 100 Years War that raged between England and France), and disease was much more lethal and widespread. The Black Death of the mid-14th century wiped out almost half of Europe.
What made disease so much worse in that time was the fact that it was so darned cold everywhere. A small hearth fire was all that could keep families warm through months of brutal winters, and it’s not like anyone had any of those North Face down jackets. Heat was a life-sustaining luxury then that most of us consider now as an afterthought. Think about that the next time you wrestle with your co-worker over the office thermostat!
So, it’s with heat in mind that we at RPost are pleased to report that we were selected by one of the leading tech analysts, Aragon Research, as Hot Vendor of the Year for eSignatures and digital transaction management. In Part II of Aragon Research’s Hot Vendors for 2023 report, Aragon Research selected RPost as one of two eSignature / Digital Transaction Management vendors that are making an impact in the market as the most noteworthy, visionary, and innovative.
Medieval life was very much about tradeoffs: cheaper land vs. lower life expectancy, cleaner air vs. terrible roads. So, I would ask you: Would you prefer to work with an eSign provider that is fully integrated into Office 365, iManage, NetDocuments, Gmail, Caret, and with Google, Microsoft and AzureAD SSO?
Or would you prefer to focus on an eSign provider that declares in its manifesto a commitment to feature-richness, security and privacy compliance, the highest levels of legalities, and an elegant user and admin experience?
Or perhaps you’d like to show off to your teams that you found an eSign provider that is friendlier to work with and costs less than half of what other large eSign vendors charge so you and they don’t need to ration or share user licenses?
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surprise it's the izzy singing essay anon again! but in essence both situations are ones of love but to different tones
when Izzy is leading the crew in the sea shanties, he's got his eyes on you at least 75% of the time because he wants you to know that this is a song for you. he's singing, everyone is singing, it's for you! it's a public serenade and the crew (whether aware or not) are hyping it up with harmonies and percussion and everything. if you join in, then it's all the better! because now it's a duet and imo Izzy loves hearing you singing the shanties.
when Izzy is singing you lullabies in the night, this is only for you. only you! the creaking ship is the only harmony he needs, it's very private and intimate. you're not expected to respond because he's lulling you to sleep after all. this is all about encompassing you with himself, by holding you and singing to you, and in part an affectionate selfishness that he hopes you dream of him too.
in conclusion, Izzy uses sea shanties to express his love to you, and uses the situation to do so either openly albeit under the guise of a crew shanty or he makes it a personal private affair for just the two of you. thank u for letting me ramble and have a lovely day
hoolllyyyyy fuck anon i literally dont know how to tell you you are always welcome in my fucking askbox-- i am literally almost in tears this is so.. holy fuck ?? i have to go lay down for 54738543879584395 years because my little gay heart is so overwhelmed w love for this angry little man and his silly little voice that i just fucking adore sso bad
literally gonna be thinking about this all day full stop its watered my crops cleared my skin sent my kids off to college and made the sun shine brighter <3
#f/o: izzy#and i actually did dream about him last night ?? or like.. he was in the dream i had#mostly just standing around like#you know he was there#but ahh... it WORKED#but seriously feel free to drop any ideas you might have on me <3 i love them your brain is so fucking huge
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#my art#sso#star stable#star stable online#sso anne#anne vonblyssen#sso concorde#i had to make this tonight because i am feeling terrible again#it's been over a year now and it still hurts so bad#driving by a certain place had just made my body entirely numb exactly like it was when it happened#i just felt so sick#im getting sick again#i just want to get better#i know i will soon but it will take so much time and healing and i dont have the resources for that right now#i think i just need to draw and sleep and those are the only things i will do for a while lmao
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hsjdhs whyyy D:
#the one time i rly wanted my meds to work bc i need to sleep early they r like hm no normaly u are knocked out in like a minute n now u will#simply lie awake for hours like awesome hsjdhs#i could tske my emergency sleeping meds but im still being delusional abt some medical stuff n im anxious abt it#but if i wait any longer i wont be able to take it anymore bc then it'll last too long n w my cfs/me that'll fuck up my ability to wake up#well more like get up#dumb bitch hours ):#moss.exe#i guess i'll make myself bc i have a rly long day tomorrow even tho i'll b rlt anxious abt it#theyre benzos anyways sso they shld help on that#im jst hh abt it also bc i already have like muscle weakness n smtimes the effect of benzos can jst like fuck me up tht way? augh tjis is#hard )):#if i dont sleep enough i'll struggle w symptoms n if i take emergency meds i'll struggle w symptoms n i can't pick but i have to pick now or#the decision is made for me by it being too late to take my emergency meds#augh i cannot make decisions w out input ):#tjis is Hard why don't my antipsychotics just do their job when i need them to#hhhhh i guess i'll try to sleep one more time or smth?#im jst tired and yawning but twisting n turning ):#i hate having to deal w my thoights like fr how can anyone fo to sleep without being knocked out by medication#i have had such bad insomnia since i was like idk 4?? i think even before then i struggled w sleeping#adhd rly is jst like no sleep for u :^)#the only thing tht fixed my sleeping problems was antipsychotics n sometimes theyre jst like hmmm just not gonna do my job today n its like#tjis is awesome this is so epic i am not suffering right now or anytjing#if u have sleeping prpblems n u just dont throw meds at it u are braver than any us marine idk how u can live like that#ok its been 3+ hours since i took my antipsychotics theyre not jst magicaly going to work huh#normally im knocked out in like an hour tops#augh i dont wanna take the benzos im experiencing thots of evil#im so hhh i dislike tjis i guess its rly starting to get close to too late too aaaa#fuck man how do u make decisions i am fear#i hate the inability to trust my gut like if i did tht my psychosis wld go haywire#i'll jst have a snack n some water n maybe watch smth in the hopes of falling asleep after
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,.
#me: im running out of steam- maybe i should get to b#an post: heres a thread about landlords breaking into their tennants appartment to let their pets out/onto the street without them knowing#me- feeling like im gonna cry and throw up bc we're in a situation where that could Very DAmn Well Happen; OK COOL NVM THEN#HGGJGKMH LIKE. fuck????? fuck#like that hit ALL my fuckigmmn paranoia buttons. just keysmashed the whole fucking control pannel#that paired with my dads 'i dont even need a key to get in (to your/our appartment)' tirade bullshit form a few months/month ish back#just?? hhjngkmgsd im. so fucking exhausted/hate living like this/in fear andn wheneveri bring it up with mom shes like#id unno shes dismissive about it and thinks that im being a Millennial Teenager/missing the whole fucking point im tryna make#and i just end up feeling stupid/she ends up just being mad at me and wheneveri bring it up with my therapist#or bring her in to talk about it with my therapist shes all 'haha what are you talking about i didnt say/mean that'#and i freeze up and dont know what to say so i just feel stupid and scared and put on the spot and hhhhhh#LIKE I ALREAYD HAVE ISSUES WITH SHIT I LIKE BEING TAKEN AWAY BY BOTH OF MYM PARENTS AND JUST#THE. IDDEA THAT SOMETHIGN COULD HAPPEN TO GINGER/OUR CAT WHILE WE'RE OUT OR ASLEEP#FREAKS ME OUT SO BAD- LIKE INTO ONE OF THOSE 'if i sleep somethign terribles going to happen someone has to stay up and its me'#KIND OF STATES/STATE OF MIND ANDN IM. Sso fuckign. exhausted n tired n scared and this' so goddamn dumb
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Prompt 40 anxceit of the 101 ways to say I love you please?
Sure thing 😊 Here you go @zozomind I hope you enjoy.
Anxceit # 40 "Don't leave yet."
Warnings: cursing, a minor sprinkling of angst. These two are useless pining morons, its fine
☆☆☆
It had been a long day of filming, something new they were trying that required they rent studio space. Everyone was exhausted when Thomas finally made it home. Logan quietly stayed with him, to make sure he didn't just faceplant into bed still fully dressed. Patton and Roman were all soft giggles and effusive yawns once they hit the mindscape. Giddy, but in that slow-blinking way, as they bid everyone goodnight. Even Remus didn't say much, absentmindedly chewing on a banana peel as he shed pieces of his outfit all the way to his door.
That left just Virgil and Janus just standing in the common area in silence. Virgil was also wiped, but definitely too keyed up to be anything even remotely resembling sleepy. He stretched, groaning, and something popped. "That was too much, what a nightmare. And we have to do it again next week? Screw that noise."
He was expecting a vaguely sarcastic response from the other side. When he got nothing he frowned, glancing over. Then did a double take. Janus was just *standing* there blinking at nothing. He was swaying ever so slightly and… shivering? In the middle of a Florida summer? "Hey two-face, look alive." His voice came out sharper than he'd meant it too, a little fission of panic sparking through him.
That panic doubled when Janus didn't even seem to register the words at all. He drifted slowly closer. "Janus? You in there?" Still nothing. Hesitantly, awkwardly, he gripped the snake-like side's shoulders. "Dee?" He couldn't keep the worry from coloring his voice, probably his face too.
And suddenly Janus shook his head, blinking, like he was coming out of a trance. "Hmmm, what? What'ss wrong?" A hissing lisp wove through the words, betraying his exhaustion. Maybe that's all it was. Still…
"You okay?" Virgil furrowed his brow.
"Perfectly-" A jaw cracking yawn, complete with fangs "-fine. Why do you assk?"
Virgil snorted, worry dissipating a bit. "Sure, Jan. Go to bed, you're dead on your feet."
"Liessss. I'm ssharp as a tack."
"Uh-huh. C'mon, you menace." Virgil tugged him a little in the direction of the stairs.
Janus hesitated, swaying like he might tip over. "I'm abssoulutely ssure I can make it up."
That one took Virgil a minute to parse. "Oh." He said, feeling a little dumb. He couldn't just leave Janus down here, but he also kinda wanted to go to bed. He eyed the other side, contemplating. "Hang on, I wanna try something." He shifted his grip and scooped Janus into a princess carry.
"That was *not* an invitation to manhandle me!" Janus squirmed without much strength, but with a near murderous glare. He looked a little more alert. "Put me down, *right now*."
"Not a chance." Virgil smirked at him, quite satisfied with his solution.
Despite his grumbles, Janus slowly relaxed as they climbed the stairs, blinking sleepily and whining when Virgil set him down outside his door. He thought about leaving him there, but something about Janus's face made a protective feeling surge in him. So he followed him awkwardly inside.
The protective urge wasn't new, neither was the awkwardness. He tried not to remember the last time he'd been in this room, during the fight, before he left. They'd been working on their relationship, but it still wasn't back to the closeness of before. He shook himself, focusing on making sure Janus didn't knock himself unconscious getting ready for bed.
He was tilting alarmingly, tugging ineffectually at his clothes. Watching him fight with his cape and gloves was gonna give Virgil contact embarrassment. "Okay, okay stop. God, you're useless right now." He stepped in to do it for him.
Janus stuck out his forked tongue. "Flaterer." He grumbled, but he didn't pull away so Virgil was gonna count this one as a win.
Although passive Janus was almost as bad. "C'mon, Dee, you gotta help me out a *little* here." He said, struggling to peel away all his layers while the snake-like side nearly went limp against him. When he finally wrestled off his shirt and accidentally brushed skin, he winced. Janus was like *ice*, even where he had been covered. "Shit, why are you so cold?"
"*Not*. It was hot at the studio." The pout in his voice was audible. Right, the a/c had been stuck on high, even Virgil had been cold in his hoodie. He burrowed closer to Virgil as he tried to peel off the undershirt, whining. "Sstop it."
"Stop fighting me, you need to get warmed up." Virgil growled to cover up his ratcheting anxiety. Janus was *cuddly*. That only happened when he was entirely too cold. He stopped, sighing, and resigned himself to just snapping the other side into comfy clothes no matter how uncomfortable it made him to do it.
Janus went completely boneless, Virgil had to catch him with a yelp. He pressed his chilled face against Virgil's neck. "Mmn, you're *sso warm*."
Virgil felt his cheeks flame."Um. You can't sleep like this, dude."
"Can."
"Nope, uh-uh. Bed time, you slippery shit." With a gentleness belaying his tone, Virgil scooped him up again. He settled Janus into his bed, nestling him in among his two hundred some pillows. He clicked on one of the heated blankets, tucking it tightly around the snake-like side. He surveyed the results with a critical eye."Okay, that should do it, how's that?"
"Mmh-hm. Thankssss…" Janus seemed to be already mostly asleep. He yawned and shuffled into the mass of pillows.
Virgil would deny the fond smile he was sporting until the end of time. Janus was *not* cute and he was *absolutely not* feeling soft about it. "Anytime, Dee." He brushed a stray lock of hair from a scaled cheek and turned to go.
But a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. "Don't leave yet." Janus's eyes were more alert than before, and a small dark fear lurked in them. "Pleasse." He said, and Virgil could almost hear the echo of *not again*...
They really do need to talk, but… maybe not tonight. "Yeah, alright. Scoot over." He kicked off his shoes. Giving the other side a reassuring smirk, he turned off the light and clambered in.
Once he'd settled, he pulled Janus flush against him, that protective urge rearing its head again. His skin was already beginning to warm, and he went pliant, snuffling a little into Virgil's collar. One hand snuck up to wind itself into Virgil's hoodie, grip shaking. Virgil's heart twisted, and he hummed softly, dropping a kiss into the other side's hair. A silent assurance that he wasn't going anywhere.
"You can sleep, Dee. I'll be right here. "
#anxceit#soft anxceit#tss fic#sanders sides fic#virgil sanders#janus sanders#asks#replies#my fic#101 ways to say i love you#a necessary amount of deceit love
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Seven Sisters of Sleep – Ezekiel's Hags - 2xLP - Relapse Records - RR7335
Stats
Pressing #: 1st
Color: Clear Vinyl (Band and Friends Pressing)
Qty Pressed: /100
Additional Info: Other Pressings Available
Track List
Jones
Denounce
Gutter
Plateau
Brothers River
Prey
Third Season
Sacred Prostitute
Ud-Nun
Warmaster
Bastard Son
Rating
8.0/10
Synopsis
Growing up since the 7th grade, I typically fire-walled my music scape to limit just punk and hardcore to into my musical scope. Years later I opened my ears and mind to a much more broad spectrum. At some point I gained a huge appreciation for Doom Metal. In many ways, I thank Seven Sisters of Sleep to help in that introduction amongst others. Where as in punk and hardcore, I have become so jaded as in most ways, its all been done before, doom, sludge, stoner, and black metal has opened so many to avenues for me to explore on top of other genres. SSOS does so many things right such as setting such a dark and imposing mood and succinctly transitioning over into chaos, speed, and thrash. Each release stands on its own and Ezekiel's Hags is no different. It is such an epic release that one must set time aside, find a nice comfortable chair, set the lighting, don the quality headphones, and let the terror engulf you.
I love the artwork here, it really catches your eye, however if you have a hapless record store clerk on a bad day, this one may find its way into the reggae section as to many, I think Bad Brains 1st LP when I see this. Strange I know. Nice quality gatefold as Relapse does once again what it excels at, putting out quality releases for above quality bands. Relapse has what it needs and knows how to carry a superior product.
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Helmsman: Wake up somewhere new
Grand: You are doing more paperwork, fuckin kill you with a culling fork. More and more and more and you satisfy yourself by reading one, telling the sleeping psion the joke that is these assholes requesting aid, and write 'Fuck Off' in big spiky letters across the whole thing. That goes in the Done pile. Next paper, type a moment to research what the fuck they're even talking about, because you stopped hiring motherfuckers to know more details than you when they kept fucking dying or leaving. Getting exiled. Whatever.
Your typing hand leaves the husktop to run over the fuzz of the psion's warm fragile skull while you read some more shit, strike out some more shit, and sigh. "Motherfuck, I need a vacation," you mutter, and it's a joke because this is about as close as you GET to a damn vacation, but not a joke funny enough for you to laugh. You look up round the room, all the medicullers absent save the one you successfully disarmed (okay, that one you'll laugh at), and he's dead the fuck asleep. Everything's in white, save the floor which is a multihued stain down to the drain in the center of the room, though it is mostly subtle variations of purple. Not a lot of offcolor fucks that you consider WORTHY of gettin tended to, after all.
This helm don't know how lucky he has it.
Helmsman: Stirring, your hornbeds crackle with power as the sedatives start wearing off. The dull, fullbody pain makes you groan under your breath and squinch your eyes tight, before it fades and you can settle again.
It occurs to you that you're being touched, but you don't sense any animosity from it, which is strange and new. Along with this feeling of not-bad is the voice you recognize. The one that makes you feel. Not-bad.
Your blue eye creaks open to survey your surroundings, and you grimace at the white, zapping the troll next to you to get their attention.
"Hey. Can'ya turn off th'lights? Ssbright." Grumble.
Grand: The crackling of his horns takes a moment to register, the groan less so. You finish writing Fuck Off on this next illustrious waste of tree pulp, running your off hand down his nug til you get to the base of it before you withdraw--Just in time to get zapped. You let out a curse that's actually just a verse of your most holy of texts (elixirs 5:18; pour one out for you, your blood is paint yet to be spilled), and bare your teeth at him, eyes flashing with menace.
Oh. He's just waking up.
“Poor motherfucker," you croon, and it's a mocking tone that you speak in. But what the fuck ever, you can stand for a break. You turn off the lamp closest to him, shut your husktop with a finite click, and captchalogue the stack of important papers that you've filled out. ... Oh, and the not done ones too, if for no other reason than state secrets or whatever the fuck.
Helmsman: "Thenks." Your voice is rough from both overuse and underuse, and you clear your throat a few times before swallowing a little bit of blood. Gross.
Blinking your eyes open, you take a better look at the room around you, and then up at the troll looming over you.
"Oh sshit." Oh shit is right, because if you aren't mistaken, that's the fucking Grand Highblood. In the flesh.
"Sso. Are you the personification of the Angel of Death, or am I hallucinating?"
Grand: "You fuckin flatter me," you say, batting your lashes a bit. "Either that, or you're hallucinatin, cuz I ain't been called angelic in a while." Your hands are to yourself, but you know the sound of a fucked up voice when you hear one. You wonder if you'll have to shove a tube in his mouth to get him to take somethin from you, or if he'll take it just to make you stop botherin him.
... But you also take the chance to look him over. Mostly just his face, which has the capacity for expression now, and is therefore finally actually interesting. "So surprised to see me? I told you I'd help."
Helmsman: You look confused, and a bit upset, like you'd had a present ripped away from you. "Then... I'm not dead." Thin eyebrows furrow and you attempt to sit up, which is hard when your arms feel invisible. After a bit of struggle, you flop back down heavily, hissing at the pain. The light in your eyes seems to pulse, like you're trying to focus. "The- the data..?"
Grand: "Not a fuckin clue." This is definitely about to get spicy, and you don't grin. But you want to. You want to rub your 'i told you so' in his moronic fucking face. "You ain't dead. You're limbless and on my ship, after you tried to fire up a single fuckin cannon and immediately fainted. Whether you managed ta finish transmittin your entire self into the space between helms, i ain't got an iota of an idea. But I told you that you didn't have to shoot me, that i would wait for you to get your business done. So I don't know that I feel like that's my problem."
Helmsman: "Limbless." Yeah, that explains why your arms feel invisible. You failed. After everything you did.
After all that pain and hard work just for it to fail. You're silent as you process this, before your eyes grow damp. You can't even wipe the frustrated tears away, so you curl away from the clown so you can cry with a little bit of fucking dignity.
God your life goddamn SUCKS. The sobs hurt as they rip out of you but you can't make them stop, thin frame heaving. He should have let you die. You shouldn't have told him anything. God you're so stupid!
Grand: ... Oh.
You expected this motherfucker to fight. To flare up bright, like you saw he could do in the ship, like you know he could do as a ship. The fight wouldn't do much good, him limbless and you your powerful, merciless self, but you woulda had fun trying to take him out without takin him all the way out.
You look over him, crying, weeping and just barely able to turn away from you, and you feel
something.
Fuck knows what.
"For fucks sake, we doin this shit?" you snap, and you think it should have come out a little harsher, a little louder. Or maybe you should be laughing, perhaps. No motherfucker would be surprised to hear you laugh.
"Like I ain't the most powerful motherfucker this side of the damned universe. Where the shit are your files or what the fuck ever."
Helmsman: Shaking your head, you laugh through the tears, a mirthless, harsh noise. "Where the fuck do you think they are?"
Crying is such a relief, though. Like you finally can expell all the horrid feelings you've been holding close to your chest for so long. You've been ripped from your ship, sanitized, bundled up all careful in a medical cot, what more do you need to hide? What would it possibly change?
"I was always doomed. What difference does it make now."
Grand: You grit your teeth at that unrighteous sound, but what the fuck is it you can do? Where the fuck indeed. You keep your helms and your files separate, at the rate you burn through them, and why the fuck wouldn't you? But you've never thought about the logistics of how the fuck one would store themselves, never thought about how it wouldn't be in ship storage unless it was some place the fish bitch could see.
For a second, from the way you have trouble breathing, and from the way your pump aches, you think you're finally kicking it. It's only a breath, only a beat, but still enough to get your fronds all wound the fuck up in the soft silk of the hospital bed. Still enough to have you reeling.
"Well. Guess you're gonna have to stay lively long enough ta write your fuckin memoirs, ain't ya?" you say, and it's quiet, and not all that funny, and you don't know what the hell is going on. "So, let's see to that."
Helmsman: You half feel vindicated from seeing that conflicted look on GHB's features, but the other half of you feels really bad. The guy went out of his way to save your useless life, used his resources, time, and energy to pluck you specifically from death's door and sit next to you.
Memoirs he says, like that isn't a ridiculous statement to make this late in the game. How are you gonna write them without arms, you wonder. It makes you laugh again, and this time it feels better to laugh. Once the giggles have settled down, you look at the troll next to you, really look at him, yellow streaks run down your cheeks and staining the white pillow under you.
"You've been here the whole time, right?"
Grand: There you all in all your glory, thousands of sweeps old and not quite so young looking as you were when you first caught this motherfucker, wearing what amounts to your casual clothes and the tie you wear when you're feeling like you should get yourself in the head for business. Your hair has grey, your paint has a fine line or two in it, but you're still an unholy terror when you want to be, which is still fucking most of the time.
Your hands unfist in the covers, and you roll your eyes at him, recline in the chair you stole from your office because fuck if you're gonna use a visitor's chair, you're the fucking king. "Nah, motherfucker, I got shit to do other than tend to your pathetic ass." Your ankles cross and you look up at the ceiling, casual as you fucking please. "But I been here often enough. When I ain't preachin or doin other holy shit. Medicullers just ain't made like they used to be, and some don't know how to ask first instead of puttin their knives where they ain't wanted. Can't have them makin that mistake when I went through all the trouble to nab your scrawny ass, can I?"
Helmsman: "Well. Thanks, I guess. You've got your reasons I don't doubt, but." You avert your eyes, not that he can tell. "It was better than being alone."
Okay you need to sit up Now. Cracking your neck, you test your reach with your psionics, the energy roving over the whole room as you manually adjust the power. Ugh, that feels weird. It takes a negligible amount of thought to arrange yourself a bit more upright against the pillow, and it does wonders making you feel less like you're at the mercy of circumstance.
"... You haven't changed a bit, huh you shitty old man."
Grand: You roll that thought around your head, feel it shifting shit behind your eyes. It was better than being alone, he said. Ain't that a terrible weakness of his, that dislike of being alone? Feels like the fucking point of a wriggler's afternoon special, soft and sweet and weak as it is. Pathetic, is what it is.
You watch him out of the corner of your eye, watch him sit himself up with power that you still don't trust not to be pressed into the flesh of you, though the thrill keeps you from locking it away tight with something or another, and you are a little impressed that he even knows how to use those when he's spent so long being sucked dry of em.
"Course I've changed. I think I've gotten taller. Definitely gotten older. I think I've killed a few more thousands of fuckers, though I might be off by a decimal point or some shit. You gotta be more specific, motherfucker, if you want to get a particular answer."
Helmsman; Scoff. "It was rhetorical, fuckhead." The residual psionics definitely is filling the air with static, and now that you've tapped into them it's increasingly hard to tamp down on them. Guess you're going to be fizzing like a carbonated beverage for the next little while.
"I do have some questions for you though."
Grand: You bark out a laugh, as your head fills with static and your hair puffs up faintly like an angry cat. You're going to have to rub him down with fuckin drier sheets or some shit, just to get some peace and not have your papers stickin to you.
"What the fuck else have we got to do, bitch? Go on, ask."
Helmsman: You chew on your lower lip as you think of the right way to word it. "Does Survivor know I'm alive?"
Grand: "Yep," you pop the word sharp, rocking back on your heels and two legs of the chair. More throne than chair, really.
Helmsman: Would be a shame if he were to fall backwards and hurt himself... Someone's gotta teach this guy not to lean on the back feet of chairs. He could hurt himself. What a shame.
The front two legs slam back onto the floor, and you sneer at him. "The last thing I need is for you to suffer some kind of concussion right now."
Grand: You yelp, an unseemly noise, as your chair is forced groundways, making you a six legged shape once more. "My skull is thicker than that, for messiahs motherfuckin sake, ask your damn questions instead of fussin over my old ass, you motherfuckin limbless horror."
Helmsman: “It'd just be inconvenient, is what I'm saying. Like I'd bother fussing over you, nightmare fuel."
This fucking guy. You shut your eyes, exhaustion hitting you like a truck all of a sudden. "Will I see her anytime soon or am I just gonna be stuck in this glass bottle forever so you can keep prodding me with sticks?"
Grand: Nightmare fuel. You like that, and it makes you chuckle different, a low bass rumble in your chest.
"You'll see her when she comes up with a plan that her and blue think will keep me from wreckin their shit, and as soon as you can get jostled without openin up every scab you got from nose to nook, which believe me, are plentiful.. And maybe a little longer than that, dependin on your amusement ta annoyance ratios. Don't go tryinna manipulate em to your wantin, cuz I ain't gonna tell you which keeps you here longer."
Helmsman: "I'm going to be honest with you: I'm a doer not a schemer. I'd pinky promise you, but, well..."
Shrug.
"As long as I get to see her again." You forgot what it was like to yearn for someone, but right now it's all you can take to be away from Bastet. You were being honest earlier when you admitted you don't know how to be alone anymore.
Grand: You hear that, and you tip back in your chair again, arms crossed behind your head, and you smile. Fuck yes. "Ain't that sweet," you chirr, and it could be nice if it was anyone other than you. But you are, as he said, nightmare fuel, and you ain't particularly inclined to be anything else.
"Give it a week or two. A perigee, tops. You'll get where you wanna be. Think you can wait that long, motherfucker?"
Helmsman: "Only been waiting the majority of my life." Sinking back into the thin blanket. "If you're going to stick around, do it goddamn quietly, for fucks' sake."
You're starting to feel lightheaded, and want to sleep now.
Grand: A snort. "And here I thought you liked my company. You'll tolerate it or you won't, and it ain't my problem either way."
Still, when he nestles himself down, you draw the blanket up past his damaged shoulders so he don't catch chill and kill himself on something nothin much at all. And you go ahead and take off your business garb (the polkadot tie you wear when you're deep in the shit creek that is your backed up paperwork), twirling it around your finger before you captchalogue it. "Just fuckin sleep, you're gonna need it."
Helmsman: “Don't need your permission." You bite back, already fading off into dreamland. Geez, being a sassy sourpuss takes a lot of energy.
Grand: He falls asleep to the low rumble of your laugh at his expense, amusement in the face of his fucking spite. Once he's out, you realize you forgot to make him drink, and decide you'll get on with it when he's a little more conscious. No point forcing him if he's not around to make you work for it, is there?
You don't turn on the light for a good hour or so. You just sit back in your throne, the back legs of it worn away from just such play, and you think. And you speak a few more times, half thoughts that you don't bother to explain cuz he ain't around to ask. But mostly, you just think.
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fine quality copper ingots
For @whumptober2020 day 29: I Think I Need A Doctor (specifically "reluctant bedrest")
Continues on from day four, wherein Aziraphale met up with a distraught coworker, waited for Crawly at the base of the Tower of Babel, and then it fell on him, day five, wherein Aziraphale did his best to help the citizens of Babylon, and was caught by demons for his trouble, day eight, wherein Aziraphale found brief and unexpected camaraderie among the prisoners of Hell, day eleven, wherein Hell tried to make a deal with Aziraphale, day twelve, wherein Crawly finally stops by, and doesn’t help, day fourteen, wherein Hell subjects Aziraphale to a very unpleasant experience, which is admittedly kind of Hell’s brand, day twenty-four, wherein all the lights go out and Crawly someone springs Aziraphale and guides him through the tunnels of Hell, and day twenty-seven, wherein there’s an earthquake and the tunnels of Hell collapse in on both of them.
This is the end of the Tower of Babel fic! I’ll be posting this to AO3 at some point, probably this weekend.
Aziraphale/f!Crawly, with a little post-canon Aziraphale/Crowley bit at the end as well. Mild respiratory distress and wing wounds discussed, but nothing gory; this installment is mostly hurt/comfort.
It took them a while to reach the top of the stairs, and Crawly had been hurt badly by the cave-in, but the growing window of light and sky above buoyed Aziraphale's spirits enormously, and he thought Crawly felt similarly, although she was having such a difficult time that Aziraphale ended up tsking to himself and carrying her.
Crawly was indignant, at first. "Angel, don't be ridiculouss --" she started, before she had another coughing fit; Aziraphale decided that was permission enough to be ridiculous, and Crawly raised no more objections.
When they emerged into the light, it was into the city of Babylon once more, and things were much calmer than they had been before. All the light gave Aziraphale a bit of a headache, and also, he had to put Crawly down or they were going to get very strange looks.
They made their way to an inn, and got the attention of the proprietor. "Don't think she speaks any of our languages, angel," said Crawly, hoarsely.
"Have you got a room?" Aziraphale asked her, loudly and slowly, and she rolled her eyes at him and said something incomprehensible. She seemed to be asking a question, and she pointed at both Aziraphale and Crawly in turn. She held up two fingers, and looked inquiringly at the two of them, and then mimed sleeping.
"Two, yes. Two beds," said Aziraphale, because he really needed a rest, and she presented them with two keys. "No, no," he said, "only one room. One!" he said, holding up one finger. "But two --" he held up two fingers, and mimed sleeping again. "Two beds."
"Ah!" said the proprietor, and took back one of the keys.
"But has this one got two beds?" Aziraphale asked, gesturing again, and she assured them in gestures, yes, go to the room.
So Aziraphale tried to take the key, but she tugged it back, and demanded payment -- the procedure for this was that Aziraphale laid out coins on the table, hoping at some point she would agree that it was enough coins, and she watched, and then, eventually, Crowley hissed, "She's cheating you, angel," grabbed the key quicker than the innkeeper could take it back, and pulled him off to go to the room. (Then she'd had another coughing fit on the stairs up, poor thing.)
This was how they ended up with one room with one bed. It was not ideal, but in fairness, Aziraphale supposed he should have expected this.
"Was I not clear enough with her, do you think?" he asked, frowning down at the bed.
"It'ss fine, you were fine," said Crawly, still winded. Technically she didn't have to breathe at all, but she did need it to speak, and also, once you were in the habit of breathing, not doing it was very uncomfortable.
"You should lie down," said Aziraphale, "you sound dreadful. Is it all just stuff in your lungs, or did you break something?"
"I don't know, and I don't --" She began coughing again, and reluctantly sat down on the bed. "Ow," she said, miserably, once the coughing fit was over. "Fuck. Could you get... sstuff out of my lungss and I'll -- angel what the fuck," she said.
Aziraphale had got out his wings, so that he could finally heal them, and he'd been ready for the pain, but he'd forgot how bad they would look, especially ignored for however many days he'd been trapped in Hell. "Got caught in the tower collapse," he said. "I suppose... I suppose that didn't have anything to do with you after all."
"No!" she said, and began coughing again. Aziraphale dragged the dust out of her lungs with a miracle, and she was able to breathe more freely, although she still winced whenever she moved. "Thanksss. Let me ssee your wingss, they're awful, I'm sso sorry you had to -- Satan, did the whole tower collapse on you specifically or what?"
"It sort of leaned over and fell, and I didn't get out of the way in time," said Aziraphale, unhappily. He sat, and winced as Crawly ran her long fingers gently over the wounds, treating them with stinging healing miracles.
"So you didn't have anything to do with it either?" Crawly asked.
"Me? Why would I --"
"Heaven did it, ssomehow," said Crawly. "Didn't they?"
"Well, they didn't send me to do it," said Aziraphale. "I'd have told you! And not been standing under the tower waiting for you." He winced and tried to stay still as Crawly set one of the bones in his wing. "How did your meeting with the copper merchant go, anyway?"
"Horribly," said Crawly. "Basstard tried to cheat me. I mean, I knew he was going to do that, I'd sussed him out as a good target for being tempted to greed early on, but that wasn't what I was there for," she said. "Actually, if it'd gone well maybe the tower could've stayed up a little longer."
"Oh?" said Aziraphale. "Crawly! Were you trying to save Babylon from this awful disaster?" He was very touched. "I mean, it was going against God's will, that's properly demonic, I suppose, but --"
"I wasn't trying to ssave anybody," Crawly insisted. "Have you talked to the people who live around the tower? I mean, not now, can't talk to them now, they won't understand you -- but before, I mean. Did you get a chance to talk to any of them about it? There, I think that'ss the last break, try the left one," she said, tapping his left wing.
Aziraphale spread the wing experimentally, flapped it, folded and unfolded it, and it felt sore, but otherwise fine. "Yes, I think you got them all. Thank you, my dear," he said, and he realized as her hands paused in running over his right wing, what he'd called her. "Very kind of you," he said, quickly, to distract her.
"I'm not --"
"And no, I hadn't talked to any of the people who lived nearby. What would they have said?" he asked Crawly. He winced as she fixed another break.
"Well, they didn't like it at all," she said. "Ruined all their views, didn't it? Gave them shade when they didn't always want it. You have a nice little second floor apartment in the middle of the city, and then suddenly this great bloody tower springs up like a -- like a -- well, it’s awkwardly phallic, only instead of just being not what you want to see, it takes up your entire front room window and makes it too dark to do anything indoors. They were so angry about it," said Crawly, sounding very pleased with this. "Try the right wing now?" she suggested.
Aziraphale tested his other wing. "Much better, thank you," he said, and he was a little surprised that she pulled his wing back towards her. "What are you doing?"
"Well, they look awful, don't they? All clotted blood and messy feathers everywhere, I'm embarrassed to be seen with you, frankly," said Crawly. "I'll have to neaten them up."
It felt... good, having someone else run their fingers through his feathers. Aziraphale tried not to think about it; it needed doing, and she had offered. "All right," he said.
"Right!" she said, starting in on his wings. "Anyway, I thought, well that's a good source of misery, that is. And maybe other people will try and build bigger ones, and land will start getting horribly expensive because there's a big tower craze and you can fit more shops and tenants into a tower than you can into a regular building. Only... what if lightning strikes the damn thing? Then it just burns and maybe kills the people at the top, and the tower's not appealing at all and everything goes back to normal."
"Mm," said Aziraphale, who was having a bit of trouble paying attention, because he hadn't quite realized what a terrible state his wings were in until she'd started cleaning them up, and goodness, that did feel good, didn't it? "Sorry, what does the copper have to do with any of this?"
"Well, I had an idea about redirecting the lightning," she said.
"Towards... people you don't like?" Aziraphale asked.
"No, no! Just, to the ground. That'd make towers safe. Or, safer, really. And then more of them would be built and they'd cause everyone misery as everybody tried to build bigger and bigger buildings and eventually they'd all run out of money and stone and wood and they'd be stuck with their big stupid buildings, all hating each other."
"Do you really think so?" Aziraphale asked. "I thought it looked quite nice."
"Well, sure, that one did, but once they start being the thing to build there'll be imitators and some of them will be substandard and everybody knows the sequel's never as good as the first one." Crawly sounded so pleased with herself that Aziraphale felt bad contradicting her by reminding her that there would have been even nicer towers built, once human architects really got used to working with the medium. It didn't matter; it was against the Will of God, so it wasn't going to happen, anyway.
Aziraphale decided, also, that he'd better neaten up his own wings, because that felt -- maybe -- too good? Yes. Best not to make any sort of mistakes. He didn't want to end up in Nisroc's shoes. "Well!" he said, folding his wing in front of him, and standing up to walk away from the bed. "I think I can take care of the rest of this, Crawly, thank you for healing me. I think you ought to rest up, though, you've been through so much."
"But --" She looked very disappointed.
"I'll stay here with you if you like," said Aziraphale. "We haven't even had that lunch yet, have we? Why don't we do that tomorrow?" he suggested.
"We don't have to -- if you don't want --" She looked embarrassed, for some reason.
"Crawly, you did save me from Hell, I do think I owe you lunch, at the very least, and, well, I know you like sleep, and I think you need rest. I had to carry you up those stairs!"
"Didn't have to," she muttered. "But... oh, fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "If it makes you happy." So she lay down and closed her eyes, and if Aziraphale ended up settling in next to her, one newly-preened wing laying over her, that was his own business. And if Crawly ended up deciding she was too comfortable to move and going back to sleep for another few days, well... nobody had to know.
--
Aziraphale felt that he really ought to stay in town and see that Babylon recovered adequately, and Crawly had decided a city where nobody could understand each other was optimal for her wiles, and so, a few weeks later, they both still happened to be in town, by coincidence, and had met up for lunch, also by coincidence, nearly every day.
"One thing I would like to know, Crawly," said Aziraphale, over a very strong drink that he didn't think was quite what he'd meant to order. It was very good, at least. "What was that awful drawing of Satan you were terrorizing me with?"
"He was remaking a fallen angel," said Crawly, as if this much was obvious.
"Ah. So you were telling me I was going to be 'remade,' said Aziraphale.
"What? No! I was telling you you had to wait until he was busy with all of that," said Crawly, pouring herself another glass of the mysterious drink. "Because of the blackouts. They had some really powerful, you know, big names in Heaven, I guess, and I knew the lights would be out for a good long time."
"Ah," said Aziraphale. "That's -- that's not how I interpreted it." He felt a bit sheepish now. "You could've been more clear, though."
"I'm not a very good artist, cut me some slack, Aziraphale," she said.
"Did you know the earthquake was coming?" Aziraphale asked.
Crawly shook her head. "Knew there'd be something like that, but I wasn't thinking earthquake. With the stronger ones, anyway, when their powers come back they sort of... echo. It's hard to explain. Usually not earthquakes, though."
"Did you have to go through all of that?" Aziraphale asked.
"Everyone had to go through all of that, angel," said Crawly. He must have looked appalled, because she went on, reassuringly. "And then you get your new name, and then you're done, and it's fine."
Nisroc had mentioned this, but it hadn't really stuck in Aziraphale's mind. "Did -- I'm sorry, did Satan name you Crawly?" he asked.
"I didn’t have much input," Crawly said, and then downed the rest of her cup. "It's fine. I'm used to it by now."
"I don't know why I expected anything better out of Satan," Aziraphale admitted.
"Could be worse. At least I don't have to work for Heaven anymore," said Crawly, and grinned at Aziraphale's sour look. "Definitely worth it."
"Well. I suppose we'll have to agree to disagree," said Aziraphale.
--
Several millennia later, Aziraphale remembered a question he'd been meaning to ask Crowley for a while. It was a lovely morning -- it had been a very lovely evening -- except that the news on the telly today was all about some people who were very angry about a new, very expensive tall building going up in front of their own, extant, very expensive tall building. It was not the first time he'd heard about something like this, and it would probably not be the last, but when Crowley came up behind him and buried his face in one of Aziraphale's wings while wrapping his hands around Aziraphale's chest, it was the first time he had the opportunity to ask the question just as it occurred to him.
"Dearest," said Aziraphale, waiting for Crowley to be done with this. He did get very silly about Aziraphale's wings sometimes, which was very flattering and quite delightful in the bedroom, but also it was sort of inconvenient the morning after, when Aziraphale wanted to sit down for a while, or go for another cup of tea.
"Mmh?" Crowley asked. He unburied his face and kissed Aziraphale on the cheek. "Yes, angel?"
"Did you --" Aziraphale gestured with his mug of tea towards the television, where the announcer was gravely explaining that the views outside of some very rich people's windows were going to change, and that this upset them greatly. "Was that you?"
"No, they did that on their own, I'm afraid," said Crowley. He tsked to himself. "The Americans got all the credit for skyscrapers. And the lighting rod! World's not fair, angel. I suppose it's what I get for making all those claims about starting wars and whatnot in my reports Downstairs."
"Well, I'll always know you were ahead of your time," said Aziraphale. He turned to give Crowley a quick kiss, but it lingered, and he shivered as Crowley ran his fingers along the edges of his primary feathers, with the lightest, most delicate touch. Eventually, reluctantly, he pulled away, and smiled at Crowley's surprised look. "I thought I wanted another cup of tea," said Aziraphale, putting his nearly-empty mug down on the coffee table, "but I think that can wait." He kissed Crowley again, and this time, pushed him back towards the bedroom.
#whumptober2020#no.29#i think i need a doctor#reluctant bedrest#good omens#aziraphale#anthony j crowley#ineffable husbands#fiction#text#kaesa op
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am rly tired rn the past few days again so just not online much and not doing much else than sleeping and being on call with gf
theres good news that i had my first video appointment with new counsellor (via psychiatric clinic, as opposed to via the general clinic, ive had like idk 5-6 counsellors until now) and she said she can actually help and that the other counsellors were wrong about saying they cant help me and she told me the basic plan what we will start with, that might start next week or so (filling out paperwork)
this should lead to me being registered as too sick to do stuff (ive just scraped by with no help until now, not being officially on paper sick, not having any wellfare help) and be able to get proper monetary support as a really fucked up person who can barely get out of bed, which - getting money and etc - is a first step towards potentially being able to get my own apartment and have money to buy more than just food (i currently can not afford things like clothes and barely medicine, just food and the cheapest phone plan, then i spend a few dollars on buying games or some other hobby thing every once in a while bc if i didnt i would have nothing to distract me from how bad i feel)
the more support i get to be able to live by myself without needing any sort of interaction with harmful people (my so called “family” and my ex, etc) the better it will be for me and easier to heal and take care of myself instead of suffering all the time every day.
in the most hopeful timeline, getting healthcare and guidance from the psychiatric clinic while getting economical support from wellfare stuff, would lead to me eventually being able to heal, be happy and healthy and have a regular income (i hope ofc to either have my own company or work at sso or similar), and eventually have a “normal” life where i feel comfortable and safe. (ive never felt safe. its not a thing in my life.)
so that stuff is good and im just really exhausted lately so if im distant and not replying and stuff, sorry, its just what its like to be this sick
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