Once every peak lord chooses their head disciple it is custom to have them complete a challenge together to get to know each other. They have to escape the maze of a pocket realm inside an artifact by completing its trials which airplane absolutely did not copy paste from those annoying get-to-know-each-other games teachers make you play at the beginning of the school year. Itās impossible to fail.
Due to the previous generationās early ascension the Qing generation never got to experience that. During a celebration, emboldened by alcohol, someone opens the realm and traps the peak lords inside. Itās impossible for even disciples to fail, for peak lords itās no more than a short, harmless prank after all.
Reluctantly the peak lords play the mini games and quickly proceed from one trial chamber to another. Every once in a while they encounter a gate that requires them to answer a question to proceed. Whatās your favorite color? Whatās your favorite food? A simple one word answer is the key.
Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan get stuck when one of the gates asks āWhatās one thing you like about yourself?ā
I wasnāt going to derail the disability pride month post for people with peanut allergies but in relation to that topic
I have never seen another allergy that has been so viscerally hated and mocked by people working in education like nut allergies. Iāve seen fellow teachers cringe that their classroom was the ānut freeā classroom that year. Support staff that are trained and willfully donāt follow cross contamination protocol in the lunchroom because itās too ātediousā or ātime-consumingā. Full preschools + childcare centers that refuse to accommodate nut allergies. Schools where the only free lunch is a PB&J. Before/after school programs and summer programs whose food curriculum has nuts and doesnāt provide an alternative activity.
Allergy discrimination is so so insidious and prevalent. Itās happening behind their back and it is everything from the exposure joke to possibly causing someone to go into anaphylaxis from willful ignorance.
Also other parents in the classroom are guilty too. The ānot my child not my problemā brain rot means that those lunchboxes are like bombs for airborne exposure allergies
A 22-year-old woman said Lufthansa staffers were not sympathetic to her condition when she tried to explain her life-threatening peanut alle
I was not downplaying this. The stigma is real, and people are 100% willing to let people with allergies die.
This woman was laughed at for asking for allergy accommodations at multiple points in her trip, and was denied to the point that she was practically told sheād be refused care in the event of anaphylaxis.
I work in healthcare. I cannot get my coworkers to consistently change their gloves after handling a PBJ. They literally do not think of it, and I donāt understand why. I also donāt know how to make it stick in their brains that this is a thing they need to do.
I grew up in the early 2000s with severe allergies to not just peanuts, but ALL nuts as well as beef, pork, shelfish, seeds, kiwi, and some food dyes. The resistance that my family faced from educators in the early 2000s is frankly bananas, not to mention the shit other parents and kids got up to.
When my mom tried to enroll me in preschool, the school principal refused any basic accommodations like asking everyone to wash their hands after lunch before re-entering the classroom, not bringing straight up peanuts to snack time, etc. There was no such thing as a nut free classroom at the time. The principal told my mom and me (I was 4 at the time and definitely in the room when this happened) āif sheās so sick, she belongs in a bubble, not at school.ā THE FUCKING PRINCIPAL! My mom had to threaten legal action under the ADA to get them to comply.
Look, I was on a 504 accommodation plan under the ADA for the entirety of my formative education (elementary thru high school). Thatās all 12 years!!! And yet I have had teachers hand me items Iām allergic to as a ārewardā. I have had other kids intentionally try to send me into anaphylaxis. One girl in 3rd grade asked me why I āwasnāt dead yetā when she had put on a lotion with almonds in it and then held my hand. Iāve had other parents write letters to the school saying what a terrible inconvenience it was to them to not be able to send their kiddo to school with PB&J, demanding I be Removed to a special education only class if my āneedsā were such a āburdenā to others. During elementary school āpartiesā held in the classroom on holidays and for student birthdays, I was always sent to sit out in the hallway or go to the library, because even though parents were only supposed to bring safe foods into the room (they had a list of all my allergies) they never once got it right. Administrators fought me tooth and nail for the right to carry my epi pen and other meds on my person at all times. Why they thought I would start dealing benadryl on the playground, I do not know. At lunch, I was always sat at a specific segregated table labeled the āNut Free Tableā alone because who the fuck is going to sit there with the literally segregated outcast? But ONCE notably I was sat on one side of a line of blue masking tape down the table top with the rest of my class on the other. One side was the NUTS side!!! As if allergens would respect that tape barrier. (Spoiler alert: they do NOT!)
Literally from preschool to my senior year of high school, I was āthe peanut kidā. Other parents gave my mom books about how to ācure your childās food allergies from HOMEā by micro dosing with things they are allergic to (please never ever ever even attempt anything like a food challenge with a known allergen outside of the care and supervision of a medical professional, holy shit thatās so dangerous). My mom joined the PTA in my last year of high school so that I could maybe participate in all the senior-focused events like pool parties and breakfast at school on the first Friday of the month. The number of times another parent either (a) decided it wasnāt worth it to care or (b) intentionally brought peanut products to an event to spite either me or my mom??? I literally could not count. It happened constantly.
College was better, but I still occasionally had people BALK when I asked them to please not eat a Nature Valley bar with whole nuts in it right the fuck next to me in lecture, thanks. Work parties and catered lunches were always impossible. A few conferences I went to as an undergrad were SUPPOSED to be nut-free, but always fucked up the catering. At one, they set up snack tables by every exit of the conference auditorium so that when people left after the talk, they all congregated around the exits and opened macadamia nut cookies and granola bars. When I had subsequently had a massive allergic reaction and needed help getting home (Iād walked) after taking like 200mg of benadryl, the staff offered me a stack of napkins and a lukewarm apology.
Food allergy is a disability which touches literally every aspect of a personās life. Everytime I share with someone new about what it was like growing up with my allergies, they have never heard anything like it in their lives. Theyāre always like āholy shit, seriously??? People did that??? Kids tried to kill you??? Parents wanted you kicked out of the classroom????ā Yeah, man. Yeah. My own brother (who doesnāt have any allergies at all) doesnāt understand why I donāt āeat more adventurouslyā and why I wonāt travel internationally. So, saying it REALLY LOUDLY for people in the back:
FOOD ALLERGY IS A DISABILITY FOR WHICH EVERYONE SHOULD BE ABLE TO ACCESS ACCOMMODATIONS AND HAVE THEM TAKEN SERIOUSLY.
So this story is less about me and more about an acquaintance of mine. About a year ago some classmates and I were privileged enough to go visit Germany for 3 weeks as a school trip. My acquaintance, who for the sake of her privacy we will call Amy, had a deadly allergy to sunflower seeds and certain other grains. I do not know for certain if the flight attendants were made aware of this fact.
When on the flight Amy was fed bread that contained multiple things she was allergic to. The packaging was completely unlabled and she was never offered an allergy warning before or during the 13 hour flight. She had an allergic reaction and had a very hard time breathing and had to take the ONE epipen she had access to for this whole trip that day. She would not be able to get a new one. The flight attendants did not give a singular fuck about what happened to her and the position she was put in because of their carelessness.
Fast forward to the end of the trip. Luckily Amy had no further incidents during the trip. We get on the plane for the flight home and Amy asks about the food for the flight and if she can have the ingredients list. She also makes it clear to the flight attendants that this is really important because she has already had an incident and no longer has her epipen.
Do you want to know what the flight attendants did?
They kicked her off the plane. They kicked a seventeen year old off a plane and left her behind in an unfamiliar city because they would rather not deal with her disability. She delayed the flight for several minutes begging and crying for them to not leave her there. She told them she had no way of accessing a new epipen here, but they said she couldnāt fly without it. Me and my friend who were sitting next to her held her and argued with the flight attendant to keep her on the plane. She sobbed as she said she could just not eat anything, or that she could eat what she brought aboard. They still kicked her off. Bless the chaperone that chose to stay behind with her so she wouldnāt be alone.
You want to know the most fucked up part after that? The flight attendant who kicked her off was amused about the whole thing like it was some funny joke. Another one complained that āIn all his years of working this job he had never been so disrespected.ā
Amy and the chaperone ended up sleeping at that airport over night before they could get on another flight. I donāt remember if she was able to get another epipen for the flight home but I think she was.
Case in point, allergies are a serious disability that NEED to be treated with more respect and severity. Regardless of what they are. Someoneās life could be at stake. When someone has a disability they need to be accommodated. Donāt give them a hard time or make jokes at their expense. So what if you have to give up a thing or two to make sure they donāt die. Youāll survive not eating that specific thing for a bit. And as someone who grew up with someone with a serious allergy, I promise you it is not that hard to give something up for the safety of others.
idk if you're asking for opinions but. wow idk who these people are!!! i vaguely recognize them but they all look neat (i know one of those fellas is like. a yugi-oh character?)
i think liking senkuu straight up just says you're a compassionate person with the bonus of being intelligent >:D
anyway cough. my favs
everyone i know has already been tagged so. open tags + same people as cupid tagged wwwww
#The number of compliments i have gotten for reading a thing
The ability to occasionally Read A Thing will make you a hero in your workplace, especially if it is for example an error message that tells you what you need to do differently, or instructions on unjamming a printer.
I work in tech, and much of what I do is support sales reps within the company by resolving errors with the software they use.
There is one sales rep who, every single time I send her a message or email with extremely specific instructions that will resolve her issue, does something completely different from what I tell her. Every time. Without fail. It is so glaringly obvious that she has never read even a single word that I have written to her.
So one day, she sends me a message that says little more than "(software) is broken, help"
So I do my standard song and dance of asking her what she's trying to accomplish, and what specifically is stopping her from doing that. And eventually, after much unnecessary back and forth, she tells me there's an error message. I ask her to send me a screenshot of the error message. She does.
The error message basically says, "these two required fields are blank. To resolve this, please fill in these two specific fields, and then click save."
So I take a few deep breaths.
Then I lie to her.
I message her back, saying "hey yeah, for some reason it's not loading that screenshot on my end. Could you type out the full text of the error message for me?"
Client is reporting that Some Thing Program doesn't work. I ask if there's an error message with further information about what's not working. Client says "no". I go over and ask Client to open Some Thing. Client double-clicks on the icon for Some Thing, it starts to boot, an error message dialog flashes up on screen, Client closes error message before I can read it, Thing closes after the error.
"What did that error message say?" I ask.
"What error message?" asks Client.
I tell Client to open the Some Thing again and then not click anything else. Client opens Some Thing, error message appears, Client clicks it away again.
I tell Client to stand up, step away, and give me physical control of the computer. I open Some Thing, start looking at the error message without closing it, and Client says "You should close that." I tell Client that I am reading the error message. Client is apparently accustomed to treating error messages as a kind of spam email that should be deleted as fast as possible, and gets agitated that I'm reading it.
I read the error message. It tells me what the problem is. I fix the problem. Some Thing works now.
---
Later, I start thinking about how such an error message might perhaps be engineered to be more attention-grabbing and close-resistant as a way of making people read it. It's not important for some random program here, but there are more important systems (medical, etc) where it would be reasonable to demand the user's attention because people's lives depend on paying attention to the error message.
But then people with a perverted intellect would still be thinking about ways to avoid reading the message, like dragging it off edge of screen or hiding it behind another window. So maybe the dialog box could have an always-in-front feature to override other windows, and the alert could use the computer's hardware "beep" functionality that can't be switched off by muting the regular sound system, and keep beeping... shit, I realize I'm reinventing pain, and get philosophical about it.
She was a computer programmer / analyst, a... Long Time Ago. Called in for a system she'd installed before, the office folk said they kept having problems where it Didn't Work Right (no error, a malfunction)
She investigated, and told them that could only happen if they did 3 specific things in a specific order, which they should not ever do.
So, she asked, did they ever do that?
No! Of course not, was the answer.
So she made a couple of small changes, packed up and said that should be fine, but they should call her if there were problems.
The next week
She had a call saying "We're getting a strange error message on the system, can you help?"
You'll be playing as a tiny farmer that just arrive at this village, and you need to rebuild your farm. You'll talk and create relationships with your fellow neighbors, and tread resources.
The art is simply incredibly beautiful. And everthing is sooooo cute!!!!
look at meeeee
LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THE PLANTS!!!!!!!!
THE FRUITSS!!!! THEY ARE GIANT AAAAAAAAAAAAAA
And the NPC the are so gorgeous <3 <3 <3
Jules has a HAIR PIN AT THE BACK!!!!! AAAAAAAA I'M GOING INSANE
And the background you ask? well....aaaaaaaa is so goooooooddd
this store is A LAMP!!!!
ahahhhahahhaahahhahahahah the size of the bird skull
Look at the size of this dreamcatcher eheheehehehehhehehe AND THE SHOOOOOOOOEE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Peps please!! If you like stardew valley and gt (obviously lol) this game is worth the wait.
THE GAME IS STILL ON THE PLAYTEST, but is available to play and the creators would love the feedback to improve more! And in my opinion is already great this game
there is no giants unfortunately but!! nothing that a little imagination and lore making can't fix
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm going to poke some people so the word of fourleaf field can spread: @ilovegt @guaxinimraccoon @garden-tkm @gtlurker @alserm @piririplimplimstar @friendlyfoxpal @ipilokko @pudding-gt
Shout out para meus amigos da comunidade: @@size-community-pt-br pra acompanharem e darem apoio ao projeto PQ SIM Ć UM JOGO BR!!!
OS criadores sĆ£o tds brasileiros!!!
So I just simultaneously did, and possibly didn't lose my job today :)
Very much did in the sense that I literally do not know where my job is at the moment. But, for the time being I haven't been let go because nobody else including the store owner knows where it is either.
So, I don't wanna risk doxxing myself by posting pictures but goddamn am I tempted because this is not a believable event. This is a cartoon problem. For looneytoons.
But yeah, so, I work(ed?) at a kiosk selling boba tea, right? Freestanding kiosk in the mall with full water and electrical hookups and multiple fridges and sinks and a mini kitchen and the works. Fully functional tea shop. Very important to note that it was there last night, The work chat was discussing another issue last night at closing time. I'll get back to this.
It's been showing signs of being on the way out with how business is being handled lately and I've been considering other options, which is probably why I'm not as torn up about this as I should be, but maybe it just hasn't set in yet, but that's not the point. The point is there's been a lot of shit breaking and not being replaced and nobody mentioning anything about it until I walk into work in the morning and have to figure out why shit like the fucking cash register isn't there today. So I'm kinda used to having to ask questions about big things that nobody bothered to update me on. I was out for two weeks recovering from a surgery, so I came to work this morning assuming there'd be some kind of bullshit, yeah?
So, the question I had to ask the chat this morning was:
Not a text I ever thought I'd have to send in sincerity, but there it is. Because what I found instead was a fenced off patch of discolored tiles and a few holes in the floor where my entire place of employment used to be.
And the answer? Nobody knows! It was there last night when the mall closed, and every single trace of the structure and all its contents including drink making supplies and our safe and cashbox was gone when it opened again. And when I say nobody knows, I mean everyone from last night's closers to the actual (former?) owner of the store jad no fucking clue about this until getting that text from me this morning. For once I am actually the first to know. š.
So. I guess I didn't so much lose my job as had it stolen. Not by AI, but good old fashioned hands-on human beings picking it up and carrying it away somehow. All mall security would tell me was that they were instructed not to tell me anything and have us contact our management. Who also don't know anything. And later on I came across some construction workers around the gravesite of the kiosk discussing filling in the holes, asked them about it, and was told that they "weren't at liberty to say".
So, not only is my job gone in the most literal physical sense of the word, but it was taken in some kind of super secret kiosk extraction in the dead of night without any warning or witnesses and nobody is allowed to speak of it. The store owner said she was gonna figure it out 10 hours ago and still no word back.
I don't know what else to say aside from I've been laughing all day and I'm gonna have a hell of a time explaining Schrodinger's Unemployment to the benefits office.
Update that is not an update because I'm basically certain this isn't what actually happened:
My mother in law thinks the FBI took it.
Not any of the other stores around the state. Just the one little kiosk.
Why? Because she loves a conspiracy and is just a little bit extra.
Also because she was around for the massive crackdown on Yakuza-owned businesses in Waikiki (in her homestate) that did actually involve the FBI seizing stores (no confirmation of making kiosks cleanly disappear in the middle of the night though).
Still no word from my job on what's actually going on, but the most likely theory so far is that maybe the kiosk was on lease and got repossessed? The mystery continues
(also shout out to the person who proposed Carmen Sandiego)
According to the owner, based on what she's been able to find out, the kiosk was not removed legally and they're starting a potentially long process of legal action. I hope she gets to sue the shit out of whoever did it but for now at least I know for sure I'm unemployed.
Really hoping for more details in terms of who/why/how, so I'll keep updating if I learn anything.
For now the summary is: An unnamed entity that is most likely mall management (on account of mall security cooperating with them) stole an entire kiosk and all the contents including money and machinery with barely a trace in the middle of the night grinch-style, with zero warning or explanation, and ensured the silence of both security and the construction crew, in an action that was definitely preplanned and illegal, and as far as I know nobody knows its whereabouts.
So now I'm officially out of a job. Because my workplace was literally stolen in the night.
Actually fuck it let's share some photos cause I wouldn't be inclined to believe this myself. It's not like anyone can stalk me at my job now and I'm not gonna have to see any coworkers that might find my tumblr.
Enjoy the unintentionally funniest text I've ever sent in my life
Aaand a close-up:
The last remains of a once Very Much Solid And Immobile Workplace
Hiii hello I went down a rabbit role and now I made a guide of (almost) all the fonts used in the game, here's the link for the drive I put them all in:
~1.3k wip of some kind of homebrewed qpr soulmate au for project hail mary ; rocky pov, first-person
context: Soulmates are a natural phenomenon on Erid, intended to ease the fear of sleeping because the moment you go to sleep, you share (not possess) the body of your soulmate (who, in an ideal scenario, is the one watching you sleep).
For whatever reason, several Eridian years into his involuntary solitary vigil aboard the Blip-A, Rocky gets a newborn alien grafted onto his soul.
context 2: if you thought twilight jacob/renesme was stupid, please know that i share the thought. hence why the au will cook in wip hell until i get my various power imbalances into shape.
//
Grace tumbles into my mind in a frantic, fearful state. It has been a few human years since his emotions have been this overwhelming; I shake off the metaphorical cobwebs from my carapace and steady him, crooning the old lullaby, and he trembles and wails and I donāt understand until rather suddenly, yes. I do.Ā
āYou canāt go to space,ā I say, stunned. āYouāyou canāt go to space. You get sick on elevators.ā
āThey caught me. I couldnāt run. The fenceāit had barbed wire up top, there were security guards and soldiers everywhere, and she knew, she knew I was going to say noāā He shudders away from the memory of Stratt, and I instinctively tap the floor to verify the soundscape. She isnāt here. Obviously. My second grounding technique is to check the clock, which reminds me of the previous visit, not yet twelve human hours past.
āā¦ This is not your normal sleeping schedule.ā
āNo,ā Grace confirms. He is reluctant, and terrified. There is something like guilt as well. āRocky, I thinkāI think I made a mistake. I, uh. I spoke without thinking.ā
āBad habit,ā I tell him, as Iāve told him many times before. Itās what got him in trouble at that fancy conference; itās what got him unceremoniously dumped by Linda.
āI know,ā he says mournfully.
If he did know, as he's claimed so many times before, he would stop talking faster than logic and reason could kick in. But maybe this is true, too: his tendency to communicate sharply (in Graceās preferred sensory figurative language, the word is transparently) is mine. I brace myself and ask, āWhat did you say?ā
The pervasiveness of Graceās guilt weighs on my limbs; one joint buckles involuntarily. I spout a curse that Grace wishes he could untranslate, and then I shake off the phantom sensation. Awful, awful, awful.Ā
āI said Iād sabotage the mission,ā Grace confesses. The shame burns in waves like the ocean, boiling hot. I cannot shield him from my involuntary disgust and secondhand embarrassment. And he cannot help his urge for self-defense. āTheyāre murdering me! They gave me theāthe illusion of choice! Stratt had me look into that list of candidates, and the whole time, the whole time she knew she would be forcing me into the mission! I donāt want to be here!ā
Thereās no chance of me getting to complete my usual checks when Iāve got a soulmate on the brink of a meltdown. To be honest, I think I'm on the verge of matching his wavelength. Itās not like Iām unfamiliar with Stratt and her approach to knotty, thorny problems. Met with Graceās defiant attitude, what would she do to ensure his compliance? She is going to break him.
She is, however unintentionally, going to break me.Ā
āWhatās going to happen to you?ā I demand. āWhen is your ship scheduled to arrive?ā
I know his ship will have a tiny crew. There were meant to be three, clued in at the last minute of my existence, because Grace wants to help my planet, he does. Heās been frustrated by my shipās technologyāadvanced in some ways, hugely limited in others; heās helped me chart and assess the various objects in space, but the fact of the matter is that he doesnāt know what to do with Tau Ceti-e anymore than I do with my dead crewās scientific tools. He made sure that the Hail Mary would be outfitted with all the instruments that I had no foundation to weave, and yes, the only lacking thing would be Grace himself, but we agreed that I would be a decent medium, presuming the Hail Mary did not immediately move to kill me.
He refuses to answer. The omission upsets me; for whatever reason, whatever pattern of life he lives when I am not sharing in its dizzying, treacherous path, Grace likes to think that hiding the hurt is mercy. He is a creature predisposed to leak its emotions (if not its body contents); it infuriates me that his world functions off gilded manners.
āI donāt like not-knowing,ā I tell him. He understands it for the guilt-trip I intend it to be, but I emphasize, āIt took a long time before Grace helped me know why my crew died. I do not want to wait a long time before finding outā¦ whatever I will find out.ā
Grace caves to my insistent prodding. āThey have a drug. Stratt says itās been used toāerase memories. The skill set of the person stays the same, butāā
The concept doesnāt translate at first. My people very rarely forget; our minds may buffer as we grow older, but even at the brink of death, I have known elders to reach back for the first song that touched them to each deathwatcher, and to sing them so steadily it could hardly be believed that they died the same day cycle they woke up. To forget something is to be weathered away, overwritten to the point of complete loss of meaning. But I have been enmeshed in Graceās culture, media and science alike, so I get the picture, so to speak.Ā
I am abruptly terrified, and Grace is startled out of his own wallowing when he hears me wail.
āYouāre going to forget? Us?! For how long?!ā
I donāt even know if Grace will be capable of sharing when he is induced into a coma. A coma has never happened to us before.Ā
āI donāt know!ā
I cannot help it. I rage. āStupid! Stupid, stupid! Humans are so stupid!ā If my predilection for needing to have the last word has crossed over to Grace, Graceās occasionally volatile temperament has surely warped mine. I seize a clawful of communication cables and yank, like sending an emergency signal would do any good right now. A discordant message sings, āHelp, help, help!ā It reverberates and cancels out the blinding fury long enough for me to refocus.
āRock,ā Grace says, timid. Like he is a child again, finally cognizant that I am myself, a being separate and living and yet so entangled in his soul that it would take death to dissolve the connection. An imaginary friend would be so much kinder. I, already over two human centuries older, was disinclined to entertain the wishful thinking of an extremely leaky organic creature the universe had seen fit to graft onto my soul.
āGrace,ā I answer tiredly.Ā
āIām sorry.ā
I contemplate the apology. I wonder how the isolation from my home, from my people, has affected me, because my response is a totally honest, āIām not.ā
Grace is silent, but even at his most petty, when he was truly committed to giving me the ācold shoulderā (like it was my fault for being the designated task master when Grace chose to tackle diploma after diploma)āI know he is here. I do not need to register his heartbeat for proof; I know him by the similar crystal keen resonance of his curiosity and intelligence, by the simple warmth lodged as a background radiation frequency for the past forty (human) years of my life.
āThis will not be a suicide mission,ā I remind him. āOnly two million kilograms are needed for the return trip, and you know that I have plenty.ā
āBut the relativity,ā Grace protests.
āThe time will pass anyway,ā I trill, just to annoy him. āThe issue will be your forgetting. But Iāll fix that.ā
āYouāll fix medically-induced amnesia?ā
He knows how to annoy me, too. Such is soulmatism. I gesture dismissively, claws in the raised hand clicking in a deliberate triplet rhythm. āEasy, easy, easy. Would be impossible if we werenāt soulmates. But we are. And I have a perfect memory, so something will be found in the balance.ā My bravado is just thatāI will be facing yet another unprecedented problem, and I will not have a young scientist to help find the answers in a human library text.
There is only this one truth. I will not lose Grace.
So Rocky obviously has no sweet clue what a hug is, and plenty of people have taken that as an indication that Eridians have little/no sense of touch and especially no sense of social touching.
But, consider. Babies.
What if Eridian hatchlings are soft-shelled for their first few years? Takes some time to consume enough metals to grow that thick carapace.
They would need some way to protect themselves during this stage, so what if their proto-shells develop a rudimentary sort of nervous system? Not much, just enough to differentiate textures, get a vague sense of temperature, and be able to cry for help if they're getting squished by something.
It helps them identify and stick close to their parents and clutchmates while their echolocation sense is still developing (assuming it's like human babies' sense of sight and it takes a while for their brain to figure out "wtf how do I work this thing"). They have an instinct to snuggle up to loved ones for warmth and reassurance. The nerve endings gradually fade and die off as the hatchling outgrows the need for them.
After the initial hug and the explanation, Rocky seems eager to get close, and can be seen throughout the rest of the movie pressing himself up against whatever barrier is between them.
He's not thinking "weird human culture thing, whatever." He is absolutely thinking "you are my child now. stay close to me. memorize my texture and use it to seek me out, so i can keep you safe. i will keep you safe. fatherhood has found me and i am Changed Forever."
Wyndham libraries are transitioning into being unstaffed and only accessible to a vetted few, which is bullshit and ruins the point of libraries. Itās another attempt to give homeless people nowhere to exist and will destroy several communities.
So, any other ausies reasonably pissed can sign this petition;
Safety
In recent years, Wyndham has seen a rise in violent crime. An unstaffed library could provide an easy place for criminal activity to
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romaincrisis
