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AnasAbdin
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Andulka
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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ojovivo
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Keni
$LAYYYTER
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@boofactory-blog
senpai
markired:
what a great time it is to be alive
@pcrdita
It was a little hard to say what, exactly, it was that showed on the monitor.
The shadows of small children and big clowns, okay, sure, that made sense. Birds, raccoons, bugs, whatever, you couldn’t keep those out if you tried. Maybe even those really creepy mascot suits some places used that were supposed to be “kid friendly” but were really a Scott Cawthon nightmare waiting to happen. But...this? This was just freaky.
“Okay, uh, boos and ghouls. I think I’m having some...technical issues. What you’re seeing there on the screen is, uhm--hang on, let me pull it up full view for you....” A few keystrokes later and camera six was pulled up full view for the entire stream, making the static interference all the worse. Which was weird, because it was digital camera and should’ve just...frozen up or gone black or something.
This really wasn’t going to help his credibility with the internet trolls of the world.
“As you can--yeah, see, there appears to be some...electrical interference with the footage. Which is, uh. Weird.” How deep into this did he really want to go? Most of his viewers were probably just laymen at the end of the day.... “That green box there? Yeah. That shouldn’t be there. Like, ever. I’m....” Screwed, really. Because going solo with Boo Factory meant he didn’t have anyone in the field to go check his equipment for him.
“...I’m going to leave everything running, guys, and see if I can fix the camera.” Even if it was dark and cold and late outside his little hub, and spooky in the abandoned park. “I guess you’ll know if I make it back. Bye, guys!”
He put the stream back into normal view, giving immediate access to all cameras, and zipped his hoodie back up before stepping outside, flashlight in one hand, voice recorder in the other.
With the exception of the now-rotting attractions--the smell of food and feces growing old and baking in the sun, paint weathered away from the signs and exteriors of every stop, mysterious fluids oozing out onto the sidewalk in puddles--the fairgrounds were fairly normal. Even the story was pretty standard: disappearing kids, creepy clowns, yada, yada, yada. Carnivivial stood out as the best place for the Alan’s first solo Boo Factory investigation because the story was verified and stamped true by a number of local (and even national and international) newspapers. It was about a decade or two ago, sure, but still scary and nothing to sneeze at. Oh, and the big bust? The reason it was in the newspapers, on the channels, shut down and locked away even to this day?
The last kid’s corpse was found in a pinata some other kid broke open. Yeah. Gruesome. Alan didn’t even have official permission to be filming here tonight--he just hadn’t been barred from trying it.
There were supposed to be children on the roller coaster tracks pushing people out of harm’s way, scary clown apparitions in the hall of mirrors, the whole nine yards, and what was the first thing Alan had to leave his little hidey hole in the business office to investigate?
A spazzing camera. Naturally. --And apparently a girl.
“Uhm, hi. Miss? Can I help you?”
;;I have no idea who or how much I owe but I’m here for Halloween December spoops!
I’m not stalking him, he’s stalking me. I am not a jaguar hiding in leaves, I stand openly in the center of the aisle, my hands clutching each other beneath my belt. I think it’s cheesy. It’s my profession taking its toll on me, I’ve seen this pose in way too many movies. I should remain conscious.
Now I caught his eyes and my hands come apart. No more cheesy bodyguard with two lines of dialogue. I think of putting them behind my back, but the eye contact has to be made in about half a second because that’s the normal time. I do a satisfactory job.
“Yes, I am the policy.”
Add a polite smirk to that. How to smirk politely? We salesmen had to figure it out and keep it privy from the rest.
"So does that make you kind of like the laow?" Alan does his very best Stallone impression--okay, his second-best, his very best is saved for late nights on the walkie-talkies when everyone’s feeling discouraged and a little loopy--and grins a bit as Iggy, taking the initiative to go ahead and be a little extra friendly. And why not? It doesn’t cost anything to brighten up a person’s day!
He’s a little sidetracked and he knows it, but it’s such a small question--and one he wouldn’t have to ask at a larger chain, anyway--that he doesn’t mind a little bit of chitchat before then. The store’s kind of empty, anyway, and besides, he can listen to his music any old day.
GASP!
“You take that back. Do you know how OLD this thing is? — Was? It’s not my fault!” Her dog lifts his head when she raises her voice, even just a little bit. But she’s not screaming, and she’s certainly not hostile or aggravated, so he huffs and lets his head flop back down onto the edge of his pet bed. “Half your equipment’s a glorified nightlight.”
"That’s what they all say,” he replies, head half-cocked. The dog’s lifted head draws his attention for a minute and he almost misses her insult. Certainly he’s distracted enough to miss his opportunity to keep sparring wittily.
“...--shit! I got distracted by the doggie.” Excuses, excuses. “How long have you had him, Darce? I always thought you were more of a mastiff kind of person.”
@guasto
"Holy crap, you’re Tony Stark.”
And wow, Alan, that was lame. He just can’t stop gaping, though. There he was! His hero! The guy who had inspired him to go into engineering! To get his degree! To--well, no, that was MaMa who had convinced him to follow his passions, but! The point remains!
“Oh man. I know you must get this all the time, but could I get a photo with you? You’re like--you’re my hero!”
@osboo
"...but anyway, ah, the point is--it’s fixed!”
Alan shrugs and offers the guy a thumb’s up, wondering if he needs to ask for a receipt or...something. He’s never been outsourced to before.
“You, uh. You got any questions?”
“Oh, man. Looks like this is out of both our leagues.” Her computer is blown, all except for the damn light. At least it’s just one of the few she owned, and the oldest. At least it wasn’t Damien’s, too. It had a lot of fond memories attached to it, though, but she could do just fine without. Anything important was saved to a USB. “—- this is totally your ghosty juju’s doing, isn’t it? At least it turned on before.” Even if all the screen did was glitch and flicker on and off. “Oh my god, if you brought a ghost from one of your trips, get it out.”
“Ouch, Darcy. That’s hurtful. If you can’t accept my undead love for Hauntabella, maybe we shouldn’t be friends anymore.”
He’s kidding, of course. The last three jobs were all busts, not so much as an unexplained click on their voice recorders, and he’s...he’s pretty sure hauntings don’t work like that. (Plus, does he really want to get into classifications and specifications with somebody who managed to fry a laptop until it was a glorified nightlight? --Oh, that’s good!)
“At least I know how to treat my equipment so it’ll function better than a glorified nightlight!” ...why did that sound so much cooler in his head?
@wagnerofspace
“--Ah, well. The good news is, your computer definitely still works. The bad news is, I definitely shocked myself.” And badly, too, to guess from the way his arms keeps spazzing on the inside. Oops?
“...oh, and, uh, your touchscreen is dead. But I could find you a specialty mouse, so that’s not as big of an issue as it seems. Do you have a bottle of water I could have? My arm is still jumping and it’s starting to stress me out.”
@eyecpener
“Don’t-stop, be-lie-ving,
Hold on to the feeee~leeee~eeee~ing!”
Why yes. Yes, that is a full-grown man. Singing “Don’t Stop Believing.” Yes, by Journey. In a video store. Indeed you are correct. Under his breath, yes. And is that Ghostbusters he’s holding?
No. Don’t be like that. Don’t be that person. Why would he watch Ghostbusters, again, when he already virtually knows the film word for word? (Besides, he needs a break from it, he watched it twice last week.) He is looking over a copy of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, though, and wondering if it’s worth the watch. He knows he’s heard the name around, but can’t remember if that’s because it’s old and good or old and weird.
“--Hey, uh, do you work here?” Alan asks, flagging down the first person he sees. “I had a question about the rental policy....” Which, y’know, he really oughtta figure out before trying to rent anything.
most blogs: haha look at my fun halloween url!
alan: ...
alan: 8C
@darcybby
"No, ah, it’s...not supposed to be blinking like that, no.”
Alan scratches the back of his head, thoroughly embarrassed now. He should really just turn in his IT Support badge and go live as a technology-less hobo, riding the rails, if he honestly can’t fix a measly little hiccup like this.
“...have you tried turning it off and on again?” he offers cheekily, looking up with a bright smile and soft eyes. Laughter might not fix what’s broken, but it’ll maybe make this look like less of a tragedy.
Ghosts don't haunt us.
That's not how it works.
They're present among us
because we won't let go of them.
- Sue Grafton
Blooky show us about Fashions and Hats!