â€đ·đâ€
wallacepolsom
i don't do bad sauce passes
Peter Solarz
Mike Driver

Kaledo Art

pixel skylines

titsay
dirt enthusiast
$LAYYYTER
RMH
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
đȘŒ

izzy's playlists!
occasionally subtle

Kiana Khansmith
Show & Tell
Jules of Nature
trying on a metaphor

romaâ
Stranger Things
seen from France

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from India

seen from Japan

seen from Sweden
seen from China

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from Sweden
seen from Malaysia

seen from Iraq
@rambleonrighteousman
â€đ·đâ€
Fighting Covid When Kept Home
This was shared on a Covid survivor groupâŠhave heard many of these before but it seems helpful: HOW TO FIGHT COVID AT HOME when you are not hospitalized.
âWhen the nurse came in to discharge me, I asked her, What can I do to help fight this at home? She said:
1. Sleep on your stomach at all times with Covid. If you canât sleep on your stomach because of heath issues sleep on your side. Do not lie on your back no matter what because it smashes your lungs and that will allow fluid to set in.
2. Set your clock every two hours while sleeping on your stomach, then get out of bed and walk for 15-30 min, no matter how tired or weak that you are. Also move your arms around frequently, it helps to open your lungs. Breathe in thru your nose, and out thru your mouth. This will help build up your lungs, plus help get rid of the Pneumonia or other fluid you may have.
2. When sitting in a recliner, sit up straight - do not lie back in the recliner, again this will smash your lungs.Â
3. While watching TV - get up and walk during every commercial.
4. Eat at least 1 - 2 eggs a day, plus bananas, avocado and asparagus. These are good for Potassium.Â
5. Do not drink anything cold - Â have it at room temperature or warm it up. Drink Pedialyte, Gatorade Zero, Powerade Zero & Water with Electrolytes to prevent you from becoming dehydrated. Water with lemon, and little honey, peppermint tea, apple cider are good suggestions for getting in fluids. No milk products, or pork. (as a singer I know milk products produce phlegm and always advised my students to have none for 3 days before a performance)
6. Vitamins D3, C, B, Zinc, Probiotic One-Day are good ideas. Tylenol for fever. Mucinex, or Mucinex DM for drainage, plus helps the cough. Pepcid helps for cramps in your legs. One baby aspirin everyday can help prevent getting a blood clot, which can occur from low activity.Â
7. Drink a smoothie of blueberries, strawberries, bananas, honey, tea and a spoon or two of peanut butter.Â
We always hear of how Covid takes lives, but there isnât a lot of information out there regarding how to fight Covid when you are not critical. I hope this helps you or someone you know, just as it has helped me.â
(Wow, @thetimetostrikeislater wish youâd had this info when you were ill)
@cptdorkery @fortheloveoftrekuniverse @peridotsarelongterm
BOOST!!!
This is one of the funniest holiday cards I have ever seen.
this has been in my queue for an entire year
@rubbersoles19
I didn't know I needed this in my life until now.
Hey guys if youâre from the US you can participate on this poll, hereâs the link~
Dceased: Unkillables #2 (2020) preview
Rule one of fandom: there are some things that only exist for us.
Donât send actors fics
Donât give them explicit art ever
Donât tag them in rpf questions or theories
Donât try to bring them into fandom drama of any kind
Donât hold them responsible for what the producers and writers decide
Theyâre still people. They have private lives, which do not include fandom.
louder for the people in the back!
For fandoms that donât have actors? Donât do this to the content creators either.
Donât bring them your discourse about characters.
Donât bring them into your shipping wars.
No matter how much interaction they have with fans, they arenât your friend. They are the content creator and you are the fan.
Yes, hold the people responsible for writing and creating content responsible for things that are racist, misogynistic, homophobic, transphobic, classist, etc. And encourage them to do better.
Do not expect them to cater to your desires regarding character arcs and canon ships.
There are actors and some content creators, especially in film, who adore fandom and think itâs all wonderful.
THEY WILL FIND US.
You donât have to send things to them. The fact that fanfic and fanart exist are no longer fringe-group secrets. Everyone in the entertainment industries know that fanworks exist. You donât have to tell them. You donât have to tell them that some of it is explicit; you donât have to tell them that a lot is not. You donât have to show them that some is adorably cute.
If theyâre interested, theyâll seek it out. Donât inflict fanworks and fandom drama on them; you donât know what squicks them, what reminds them of some personal trauma - and what they are contractually, legally required not to acknowledge. (Or what they are legally required to report to someone else, which is worse.)
If they like fandom, they can find it. You donât have to let them know itâs here, and you donât know enough about their tastes to recommend âthe good stuff.âÂ
Right now it feels like Russian roulette of issues: asthma attack, anxiety attack, or coronavirus. Fml.
Where can we vote?
https://www.dcuniverse.com/news/poll-should-jason-todd-live-or-die/
Here is the current tally.
Maybe Iâm an old man but goddamn, these vampires with blood dripping down their chinsâthatâs your food!! THATâS YOUR FOOD!! Close!! Your!! Mouth!! You think some asshole slobbering chicken noodle soup or yogurt or clam chowder all down themselves would be sexy??? What makes you any different, you sticky-stained slackjawed screwball??? Close your mouth!! Use a napkin!! And for godssakes stop looking so smug, like, âOooo, Iâm a creature of the night look at what sustains meâ yeah uh huh a fucking lack of basic hygiene is what Iâm seeing and it is not impressive!! At all!! My nephews are three years old and they drool less than you do!! Youâre how many centuries old?!?! ACT LIKE IT
So I was in Norwalk Iowa and was reminded that Jason Momoa was from thereâŠwent to the library, looked up his senior year, and beholdâŠhis senior picture.
Dean's expression
I stumbled across this gif and are we gonna ignore that face Dean makes?
What the hell? When did we become âa Handmaidenâs Taleâ?
I really want a science fiction story where aliens come to invade earth and effortlessly wipe out humanity, only to be fought off by the wildlife.
They were expecting military resistance. They werenât counting on bears.
Imagine coming to a hostile alien world and being attacked by a horde of creatures that can weigh up to 3 tons, run at 30Â km/h (19Â mph), and bite with a force of 8,100 newtons (1,800Â lbf).
By the time you realise that they can traverse water, itâs too late. The surviving members of your unit manage to make it back by shedding their excess gear and running for their lives; the slower ones were crushed to death within minutes.
You later describe the creature to one of the humans you captured, wanting to know the name of the monstrosity that will haunt your nightmares for cycles to come.
The human smiles as it speaks a single word, slowly and distinctly, in its barbaric tongue.
âHippopotamus.â
This is giving me the biggest, creepiest grin I might have ever grinnedÂ
Imagine being the next crew to go down to earth and thinking âitâs fine, we got this. We have the weapons and equipment necessary to deal with bears and *shudders* hippopotamuses. Weâll be fine.â
And at first you are, youâve learned how to dodge. Youâve learned where their territories are. You know how to defend yourself.
But then one night you are sleeping in your shelter. Youâre in a tree covered temperate part of earth. It seems benign. There are been no sightings of the dreaded âhipposâ around. Not even any bears. But there is a slight rustle of the undergrowth. You try and ignore it telling yourself it is just the wind.
Then you hear the rustle again. closer this time.
You peer out into the darkness but see nothing amongst the trees.
The rustle again and now you realise you can smell something. Itâs musky and slightly foul. Itâs the smell of an omen, a warning. But what of? Where is this smell coming from.
You sit up, but itâs too late. The foul smelling creature is on you. You are hit with 17kg of coarse fur and vicious bites. Long dark claws tear in to you and you are pinned down white the striped creature tries to bite your throat.
It takes some doing but you manage to wrestle free. Blood drips from your wounds and already they itch with the sign of infection. The creature has a bloodied snout, rust rad, mingling with the black and white hairs. It lets out a terrifying growl from the back of its throat and looks to attack again. Itâs between you and your knife, so your only choice is to back away.
Eventually the creature gives up and snuffles off in to the undergrowth, down a hole near your shelter you hadnât noticed before.
When you make it back to your base you once again consult the captive human.
âBadger.â they say, with a solemn nod.
One word: Moose
âOur vehicles are far superior to the local human models, in range, speed, armament, and any other metric you care to name! Nothing could possibly-â
BAMrumblerumblethumpcrash!!!
âThatâs called a moose.â
Wolverines.
Also.. dolphins.
The invasion is going slowly. The humans have caught on and are actively destroying information on the planetâs flora and fauna before Intelligence can capture and process it. All that they have are survivorsâ accounts. Bears. Hippos. Badgers. Moose. It is becoming obvious this mudball planet is a full-on Death World to the unprepared, and you are so very unprepared.
You lost Jaxurn to a plant. Not even a mobile or carnivorous plant, just one that caused a vicious allergic reaction on contact that killed him in less than a rai'kor. Commander Vura'ko died to an insect bite, a tiny local pest that sucked a tiny bit of her blood and apparently replaced it with a bit of its last meal, which was full of disease. Backwash. She died to bug backwash. And yet you honestly envy them after that⊠thing you encounteredâŠ
When you got back to base the quarantine officer refused to let you inside. They had to roll a containment tank outside to put you in, because you all knew there would be no chance of eliminating the smell if it got into the shipâs air ducts. Smell. You wonder if your nasal slit will ever recover from this stench.
And the smell would. Not. Leave. After incinerating your gear the Q.O. had you use every cleansing agent they could think of, including a few janitorial ones, and still everyone fled the stench if they were downwind of your tank. Desperate to protect everyoneâs nasal slits from the smell the quarantine officer interrogated the humans. From them, a glimmer of hope: there was a cure. Somehow the juice of a certain fruit on this mudball was the only thing that could break up the chemicals in the little horrorâs spray. Immediately the Q.O. sent a team to recover buckets of the stuff and made you bathe in it. That was hours ago and it didnât seem to be working, though. All it was doing was turning your blue skin an interesting shade of purple.
Sighing in frustration you wave the med-assist on duty over, who only approaches after checking the wind direction. Annoyed, you flip on the tank`s vox speaker.
âThe humans did say it was âgrapeâ juice that removed âskunkâ stench, right?â
Every night.Â
It came for someone almost every night.Â
Any soldier alone was a viable target for this native monster that moved unseen by any but the security viewers, usually only spotted in hindsight. They were taken as silently as this earth-monster moved. Sometimes theyâd find the remains in the morning taken up a tree and hung there, mostly eaten, as if it were a grisly reminder that the monster was still there, waiting unseen, to strike again.Â
What little they saw of the monster on the vidfeed showed true horror. Yellow eyes that shone with all the light it could gather. It had fangs as long as his grasping digits. Claws half that size formed curved hooks that allowed it to climb up their fortifications with impunity. And in the underbrush, its spots made it almost impossible to see clearly in the undergrowth, if it could be seen at all.
Even the native sentients, the humans, had a healthy respect and fear for it.Â
The earth natives called the monster a leopard. Â
It was a constant fear that muddied the senses, and let the monster hunt even more effectively as the soldiers were always on edge. Sleep deprived with fear, it made them even better targets for the monster.Â
But rumor was that there was worse on this planet. Rumors of a monster like a leopard but larger, and bigger in every imaginable sense. Stripped instead of spotted, which leaped from the underbrush with a sound.
A sound that burst eardrums, paralyzed entire units, and let the monster kill with impunity. While the Leopard wrestled soldiers down and ripped their throats out. This other monster, the Tiger, killed with its pounce alone.
âWeâve been through this,â Group Leader 455 snapped. âThe dissection of an Earth life form will help the scientists make weapons to combat the rest of this planetâs hellbeasts. And these are domesticated. Harmless.â
The troops were not-quite-looking at her in the way troops do when they donât want to be seen to contradict a ranking officer, but canât quite muster a correct Expression of Enthusiastic Assent. âThe name of this species,â she pointed out, âis synonymous with dullness and slowness in the language of the Earth barbarians.â Well, one language out of several thousandâthese creatures needed Imperial guidance more than any other world on recordâbut there was no point in confusing the rank and file.
More not-quite-looking. 455 bubbled a sigh and consulted her scanner. âThat one,â she decided. âAlone in the separate pasture. Scans suggest that itâs a male, which means itâs probably weaker. Possibly itâs kept isolated so that the females donât eat it before mating season. And yes, I know some of you are here on punishment detail, but youâre still soldiers of the Imperium. This squad is perfectly capable of handling a lone, helpless, pathetic male cow.â
Iâm enjoying this immensely. Wait until the aliens try Australia for sizeâŠ
It was a strange creature Tar'van glimpsed at on the vast island known to the humans as âAustraliaâ.
âI would warn you not to fuck with us, mate.â Their forced guide, a prisioner, had warned with a chilling grin upon capture. âIf you think a moose is bad, wait until you tango with a red back.â To this day Tar'van fears the creature known as the red back, and what horrors it would bring.
The prisioner turned out to be of little help,the stubboness of his people causing them to refuse the danger that the captured human warned of. Tar'van recalls a moment when one of his squad members approached a creature know as a dingo, insistent they had seen these creatures before and they were tame. They barely escaped with 5 of the original 7 members of his squad.
Another moment Tar'van recalls was the brutal mauling they witnessed by the hands of a creature called an âEmuâ
âDonât feel too bad,â the prisioner mocked. âWe lost a war to the Emuâs as well.â
Now with only 4 members of their squad left, including themself, Tar'van had learned to listen to the prisoner, to be wary of the simplest of creatures. This human was of the sub-species of âZookeeperâ after all.
The âZookeeperâ looks off to the distance, where the creature is.
âItâs a kangaroo, leave it be and youâll be fine.â Tar'van nods, a human signal of acknowledgement if they are correct. The human smiles a bit.
âThat creature cannot possibly harm us.â Tar'vanâs squadleader protests. âIt is so docile. I will aproach it and bring back itâs head to show this human is a fearmongering liar.â
The human reels back, a look of disgust crosses their face and anger passes through their eyes.
âFucking do it mate, I dare ya.â The human hisses. The squad leader puffs up their hoinn gland, a sign of pride to their species, and aproached the so called âKangarooâ.
âThis will be unpleasant.â A squadmate mutters as they watch their leader raise their fist and bring it down on the creature. The âKangarooâ looks a little stunned by the impact, before it raises itself upon its strong tail and uses its powerful heind legs to launch their squadleader backwards through the air.
Their squadleader lands upon the ground, unmoving with black blooded oozeing from them. It appears Tar'van is the squads leader now.
âI donât know what they expected.â the human says, smugness filling their tone. âKangaroos are fucking shreaded. 8-pack and all.â
Tar'van steps forward to the human, whom inches back in a sign of fear as Tar'van pulls their blade from its holster, and in their first act as leader, frees the human of the bonds around their hands.
âPlease,â Tar'van bags. âGet us back safely.â
@kryallaorchid, you guys really lost a war to emus? Why was it necessary?
oh, mate, you never mess with the emus.
(Jesus christ. Dont get us started on kangaroos)
They had faced Emuâs. They had lost one in the battle but had experienced them. But this was no emu.
Looking to their guide, they all stare in horror as his face changes from calculating to fear. Pure, heart consuming horror as he stares at the large bird. âCassowaryâŠâ They mimic him in fear. Squawking the horrific name as another joins the first in the mad run towards them.
The only ones to survive was the native guide and Tar'van. The guide was carrying the soldier over his shoulder as they made their way back to the settlement. Tar'van was a wreck. Periodically alternating between rocking in complete silence and whispering broken words in horror. When they consulted the native all he said was âIts springâŠ. Magpie seasonâŠâ
âListen up, troops. This armour upgrade has been tested both in the laboratories of the best Imperial military scientists and in the field. We are impervious to the stings of any insect on this hellhole of a planet, striped or not! We can brave the perils of its wildlife, and conquer it at long last! Revenge for our fallen companions! Glory to the Emperor!â
âExcuse me,â the native Terran guide speaks up in a tired tone, and the squadâs cheers die on their lips. âThis is Japan. You havenât seen whatââ
âSilence, worm! No sting can penetrate this plating!â
The guide tries to warn them once again, merely earning a blow that throws them to their knees. The troops set out, morale high, certain in their ability to brave the wildlife now and thirsting for vengeance against the non-sentient native species. One soldier thumps his fist against a tree. A hollow sound follows.
In an instant, the soldier is the centre of a storm of the striped insects. At first, no one pays it any mind. Their little stings cannot penetrate the new plating, after all.
But then the soldier falls to his knees, and the squad stares in horror as the insects enclose him in layer upon layer of their own bodies, all moving. The squadâs medic yells a warning at everyone to stay back, watching the readouts of the unfortunate soldierâs armour on their diagnostic screen with undisguised horror. The insects arenât even stinging. They simply keep moving, one atop the other, and the soldierâs body temperature is slowly rising until he drops to the ground, quite literally cooked alive. The insect swarm takes off, unharmed save for the ones that were crushed when the trooper fell.
Finally asked about what happened, the human sighs. âJapanese honeybees. They do this to wasps, too.â
âHow?â You ask. âHow has your species dominated this planet?âÂ
The human bares its teeth. A smile, they call it. Something humans do when they are happy. Yet you canât help but think of all the creatures with the their large fangs and sharp teeth. (What kind of species uses a threat signal as a sign of happiness?)
âPersistence and ingenuity.â The human answers, still smiling.Â
It doesnât matter that this one is your prisoner. Humans, you decide, are as terrifying as their planet. Â
âAnd scattered about it ⊠were the Martiansâdead!âslain by the putrefactive and disease bacteria against which their systems were unprepared; slain as the red weed was being slain; slain, after all manâs devices had failed, by the humblest things that God, in his wisdom, had put upon this earth.âÂ
â HG Wells, The War of the Worlds,1898
Iâm picturing aliens going up against a hoard of Canadian geese, or a swan.
I think at that point theyâd just give up.
Or fire ants
No one even MENTIONED snakes yetâŠ
This thing gets better EVERY FUCKING TIME I SEE IT.
âLet us try the creatures that the humans keep for domestic companionshipâ
âIs that a miniature tiger?â
âWhy does this human own a small pack of wolves?â
The aliens ask their human captive why small wolves live with them.Â
âOh, you mean dogs? Yeah, theyâre the only animals that can keep up with us.â
The aliens look at each other in fear. âWhat do you mean?â
âOh well thatâs why you guys âwonâ is because humans arenât super fast or strong. I think my middle school biology teacher called us pursuit predators? It means we evolved to hunt things by following them at walking pace until they had to stop to sleep and then catching up to them then. Dogs are the only animals that can keep up with us. Did you know one time a pack of wolves tailed a herd of caribou for three days straight?â
âUh⊠okay, what about these small round things with big teeth?â
âOmg dude no if you give a hamster enought time that little fucker can chew through concrete :)â
The aliens wonder if the surrender of humanity was a trap.
Somebody do sharks or sea creatures next. Giant squids would wreak havoc on their ships.
rebloging because Hamsters are the most demonic critter on the planet for real. also, hummingbirds. Humming birds will attack /owls/
Iâm not much of a science fiction fan but, this is beautiful.
Please give me more Iâm begging you all.
Anyone gonna talk about Rabbits yet? I have one and honestly, it looks cute and all, but those little demons will bite and claw you and you wonât see it coming
Iâve seen this several times now and I have to add to it because I love it so much enjoy:Â
Theyâd all been assured that this terran island was non-dangerous. They had few large predators, the climate was temperate and mild, and was comparatively small compared to many of the âcountriesâ theyâd been to so far. Kowixx had trouble believing this however. So far, it had been proven time and again that to assume safety on Earth was a death sentence. Xer squad leader believed that this place was safe however, and that meant they had to follow. The leader had been fighting on Earth for two months now; for soldiers sent to this hell planet, two months practically made you a veteran. Soon, however, Kowixx was proven right. They landed on the beaches first, after an hour of travelling over cold ocean; the only way that they could approach as their airborne ships couldnât survive the colder temperatures in the Northern hemisphere, and it was supposedly âwinterâ this time of year. Kowixx could only dream of being back on their moderate, non-extreme planet, thousands of jurâwens away. From the second they started marching up the sand, which easily caved beneath their feet, tall, spindly human structures were rising out of the sea mist. A shudder going down xer spine, Kowixx was sure they were being watched. Even more so when a dull grey shape glided down from the sky and landed in front of the squad leader. Xe ordered a halt and  the men stopped. It seemed non-dangerous at first. Grey and brown, a rather dull looking creature with ridiculous webbed feet and a dark beak. It moved closer to the squad leader, as if inspecting. The squad leader wasnât going to take any chances. Xe pulled xer weapon from xer side and fired. The creature screeched, its noise ear-piercing, its wings flaring up at the sand beneath it melted. Immediately, its cries were repeated a hundred fold from above, and more of the hideous things began diving out of the sky. Keeping their heads down, they all tried to run, Kowixx muttering a prayer for xer life. Vicious sharp beaks bit and tore at the soldiers skin, the large grey beasts dropped more and more out of the sky, almost invisible in the mist if not for their demonic screeching. Some of them even crashed straight into the soldiers, with their full body weight, thorn like claws ripping at armour and hideous squawking hurting their ears. One poor soldier collapsed in the sand and was immediately set upon by four of the great things, screaming with bloodlust. Eventually they made it to safety, sheltering in a human building. They captured a lone human later, and asked it about these creatures. This island was supposed to be safe?! What were these new monsters? The human didnât quite get it at first, and then realised. âAh, a seagull. They probably thought you had food. When you shot at them you pissed them off.â The squad leader frowned âso, we shouldâve fed it?!â The human laughed, an awful sound after that experience. âNo, if youâd have fed it they would never have left you alone. You canât win against seagulls. You just have to run and hope they donât catch up to you firstâ. The squad leader demanded to know if there would be any more of these beasts. The human looked away from xer, and focused on Kowixx. Kowixx felt xer heart double take as it said coldly âseagulls are everywhere here.â
If there was one thing that Baerhwan had learned about this hellhole of a planet, itâs that now matter how dangerous the thing directly in front of you looked, there was always something even worse somewhere else â and if you were really unlucky, âsomewhere elseâ was five yards away and getting closer all the time. He still had nightmares about the killer bee incident. According to one of their human guides, honey bees were considered to be a symbol of cosy, rural domesticity; it was only later that Baerhwan had discovered that they killed more humans each year than any animal other than humans themselves.
It was for this reason that Baerhwan glanced at his superior with concern about xir mental well-being.
He could understand the admiralâs decisions. Naktok had seen almost a third of xir invasion force decimated by the local wildlife â more than in the entire war with the Lumati - and half of the survivors would be in psychiatric restructuring for the next several years. So the decision made five weeks ago to activate the Limsaq Protocol â something only done once before in the entire history of the Imperium â made a kind of vague sense. Nevertheless, Baerhwan had an uneasy feeling that the plan wouldnât go smoothly.
The Limsaq Protocol was simplicity itself: a team would be sent back into the planetâs past, and would alter the biosphere to make it more amenable to the various species of the Imperium. It was rarely even considered, since the consequences were hard to predict. The only other planet this had been done to was Limsaq, which had originally been home to a particularly vicious, expansionist and xenophobic species, the Schloq, who had been threatening several Imperium colonies and two sourceworlds. A team had been sent back, and the Schloq (along with a few parasite species dependent upon them) had been wiped out, reversing the extinction of several hundred of Limsaqâs other species and ending the threat for good. It was a comparatively minor change to the planetâs biosphere, and had resulted in a wholly new, unpopulated and easily colonisable world.
Naktokâs plan went rather further. Xe hoped to wiped out this planetâs native life entirely, and replace it with species from other worlds â create a whole new biosphere from scratch. Unfortunately the process would take several tens of millions of years to work. Even with the use of temporal hop-pods, the logistical undertaking was immense.
Naktok believed xirself to be infallible and indestructible - a common flaw in xir species - and strode boldly and purposefully out of the hop-pod, ready to begin the process of destroying the local wildlife. But when, just a few seconds after exiting the temporal hop-pod, Naktok was bitten in two by a set of jaws that looked disturbingly like those of a crocodile, only much, much larger, Baerhwan was not as surprised as he might have been at an earlier time in his life. This was Earth, after all. Of course it had fifteen foot tall, forty foot long carnivorous reptiles with teeth longer than a human hand. What else could there possibly have been, a hundred million years in the past?
At 18, everyone receive a superpower. Your childhood friend got a power-absorption, your best friends got time control, and they quickly rise into top 100 most powerful superheroes. You got a mediocre superpower, but somehow got into the top 10. Today they visit you asking how you did it.
âPower absorption?â you ask him over your pasta, which you are currently absorbing powerfully. in the background, a tv is reading out what the Phoenix extremeist group has done recently. bodies, stacking.
tim nods, pushing his salad around. âitâs kind of annoying.â heâs gone vegan ever since he could talk to animals. his cheeks are sallow. âyesterday i absorbed static and i canât stop shocking myself.â
âyou donât know what from,â shay is detangling her hair at the table, even though itâs not polite. about a second ago, her hair was perfect, which implies sheâs been somewhere in the inbetween. âtry millions of multiverses that your powers conflict with.âÂ
âdid we die in the last one?â you grin and she grins and tim grins but nobody answers the question.
now she has a cut over her left eye and her hair is shorter. she looks tired and tim looks tired and you look down at your 18-year-old hands, which are nothing.Â
they ship out tomorrow. they go out to the frontlines or wherever it is that superheroes go to fight supervillains; the cream of the crop. the starlight banner kids.Â
âyou both are trying too hard,â you tell them, âcouldnât you have been, like, really good at surfing?â
âgod,â shay groans, âwhat iâd give to only be in the olympics.â
xxx in the night, tim is asleep. on the way home, he absorbed telekinesis, and hates it too.Â
shay looks at you. âiâm scared,â she says.
you must not have died recently, because she looks the same she did at dinner, cut healing slowly over her eye the way itâs supposed to, not the hyper-quickness of a timejump. just shay, living in the moment when the moment is something everyone lives in. her eyes are wide and dark the way brown eyes can be, that swelling fullness that feels so familiar and warm, that piercing darkness that feels like a stone at the back of your tongue.
âyou should be,â you say.
her nose wrinkles, she opens her mouth, but you plow on.
âtheyâre going to take one look at you and be like, âgross, shay? no thanks. youâre too pretty. itâs bringing down like, morale, and thingsâ. then theyâll kick you out and iâll live with you in a box and weâll sell stolen cans of ravioli.â
sheâs grinning. âlike chef boyardee or like store brand?â
âstore brand but we print out chef boyardee labels and tape them over the can so we can mark up the price.â
âwhere do we get the tape?âÂ
âwe, uh,â you look into those endless dark eyes, so much like the night, so much like a good hot chocolate, so much like every sleepover youâve had with the two of your best friends, and you say, âitâs actually just your hair. i tie your hair around the cans to keep the label on.â
she throws a pillow at you.Â
you both spend a night planning what youâll do in the morning when shay is kicked out of Squadron 8, Division 1; top rankers that are all young. youâll both run away to the beach and tim will be your intel and youâll burn down the whole thing. youâre both going to open a bakery where you will do the baking and sheâll use her time abilities to just, like, speed things up so you donât have to wake up at dawn. youâre both going to become wedding planners that only do really extreme weddings.
she falls asleep on your shoulder. you do not sleep at all.
in the morning, they are gone.
xxx
squadron 434678, Division 23467 is basically âcivilian status.â you still have to know what to expect and all that stuff. youâre glad that youâre taking extra classes at college; youâre kind of bored re-learning the stuff you were already taught in high school. there are a lot of people who need help, and youâre good at that, so you help them.Â
tim and shay check in from time to time, but theyâre busy saving the world, so you donât fault them for it. in the meantime, you put your head down and work, and when your work is done, you help the people who canât finish their work. and it kind of feels good. kind of.
xxx
at twenty, squadron 340067, division 2346 feels like a good fit. tim and you go out for ice cream in a new place that rebuilt after the Phoenix group burned it down. youâve chosen nurse-practitioner as your civilian job, because it seems to fit, but youâre not released for full status as civilian until youâre thirty, so itâs been a lot of office work.
timâs been on the fritz a lot lately, overloading. youâre worried theyâll try to force him out on the field. heâs so young to be like this.
âi feel,â he says, âlike it all comes down to this puzzle. like iâm never my own. i steal from other peopleâs boxes.â
you wrap your hand around his. âsometimes,â you say, âwe love a river because it is a reflection.â
heâs quiet a long time after that. a spurt of flame licks from under his eyes.
âi wish,â he says, âi could believe that.â
xxx
twenty three has you in squad 4637, division 18. really youâve just gotten here because youâre good at making connections. you know someone who knows someone who knows you as a good kid. you helped a woman onto a bus and she told her neighbor who told his friend. youâre mostly in the filing department, but you like watching the real superheroes come in, get to know some of them. at this level, people have good powers but not dangerous ones. you learn how to help an 18 year old who is a loaded weapon by shifting him into a non-violent front. you get those with pstd home where they belong. you put your head down and work, which is what youâre good at.Â
long nights and long days and no vacations is fine until everyone is out of the office for candlenights eve. youâre the only one who didnât mind staying, just in case someone showed up needing something.Â
the door blows open. when you look up, heâs bleeding. you jump to your feet.Â
âoh,â you say, because you recognize the burning bird insignia on his chest, âI think you have the wrong office.â
âi just need,â he spits onto the ground, sways, collapses.Â
well, okay. so, thatâs, not, like. great. âuh,â you say, and you miss shay desperately, âokay.â
you find the source of the bleeding, stabilize him for when the shock sets in, get him set up on a desk, sew him shut. two hours later, youâve gotten him a candlenights present and stabilized his vitals. youâve also filed him into a separate folder (itâs good to be organized) and found him a home, far from the warfront.
when he wakes up, you give him hot chocolate (god, how you miss shay), and he doesnât smile. he doesnât smile at the gift youâve gotten him (a better bulletproof vest, one without the Phoenix on it), or the stitches. thatâs okay. you tell him to take the right medications, hand them over to him, suggest a doctorâs input. and then you hand over his folder with a new identity in it and a new house and civilian status. you take a deep breath.Â
he opens it and bursts into tears. he doesnât say anything. he just leaves and you have to clean up the blood, which isnât very nice of him. but itâs candlenights. so whatever. hopefully heâll learn to like his gift.
xxx
squadron 3046, division 2356 is incredibly high for a person like you to fit. but still, you fit, because youâre good at organization and at hard work, and at knowing how to hold on when other people donât see a handhold.
shay is home. youâre still close, the two of you, even though she feels like she exists on another planet. the more security youâre privy to, the more she can tell you.Â
you brush her hair as she speaks about the endless man who never dies, and how they had to split him up and hide him throughout the planet. she cries when she talks about how much pain he must be in.
âcan you imagine?â she whispers, âi mean, i know heâs phoenix, but can you imagine?âÂ
âone time i had to work retail on black friday,â you say.
she sniffles.
âone time my boss put his butt directly on my hand by accident and i couldnât say anything so i spent a whole meeting with my hand directly up his ass,â you say.
her eyes are so brown, and filling, and there are scars on her youâve never noticed that might be new or very, very, very old; and neither of you know exactly how much time sheâs actually been alive for.Â
âi mean,â you say, âyeah that might hurt but one time i said goodbye to someone but they were walking in the same direction. i mean can you imagine.â
she laughs, finally, even though itâs weakly, and says, âone time even though i can manipulate time i slept in and forgot to go to work even though i was leading a presentation and i had to look them in the face later to tell them that.â
âyouâre a compete animal,â you tell her, and look into those eyes, so sad and full of timelines youâll never witness, âyou should be kicked out completely.â
she wipes her face. âfind me in a box,â she croaks, âselling discount ravioli.â
xxx
you donât know how it happens. but you guess the word gets around. you donât think you like being known to them as someone they can go to, but itâs not like theyâve got a lot of options. many of them just want to be out of it, so you get them out, you guess.
you explain to them multiple times you havenât done a residency yet and you really only know what an emt would, but they still swing by. every time they show up at your office, you feel your heart in your chest: this is it, this is how you die, this is how it ends.Â
âso, like, this groupâ you say, trying to work the systemâs loopholes to find her a way out of it, âfrom ashes come all things, or whatever?â
she shrugs. you can tell by looking at her that sheâs dangerous. âitâs corny,â she says. another shrug. âi didnât mean to wind up a criminal.â
you donât tell her that you sort of donât know how one accidentally becomes a criminal, since you kind-of-sort-of help criminals out, accidentally.Â
âi donât believe any of that stuff,â she tells you, ânone of that whole⊠burn it down to start it over.â she swallows. âstuff just happens. and happens. and you wake up and itâs still happening, even though you wish it wasnât.â
you think about shay, and how sheâs covered in scars, and her crying late at night because of things nobody else ever saw.
âyeah,â you say, and print out a form, âi get that.â
and you find a dangerous woman a normal home.
xxx
âyouâre squadron 905?âÂ
âdivision 34754,â you tell him. watch him look down at your ID and certification and read your superpower on the card and then look back up to you and then back down to the card and then back up at you, and so on. he licks his chapped lips and stands in the cold.
this happens a lot. but you smile. the gatekeeper is frowning, but then hanson walks by. âoh shit,â he says, âitâs you! come right on in!â he gives you a hug through your rolled-down window.
the gatekeeper is in a stiff salute now. gulping in terror. hanson is one of the strongest people in this sector, and he just hugged you.
the gate opens. hanson swaggers through. you shrug to the gatekeeper. âi helped him out one time.âÂ
inside theyâre debriefing. someone has shifted sides, someone powerful, someone wild. itâs not something youâre allowed to know about, but you know itâs bad. so you put your head down, and you work, because thatâs what youâre good at, after all. you find out the gatekeeperâs name and send him a thank-you card and also handmade chapstick and some good earmuffs.
shay messages you that night. i have to go somewhere, she says, i canât explain it, but thereâs a mission and i might be gone a long time.
you stare at the screen for a long time. your fingers type out three words. you erase them. you instead write where could possibly better than stealing chef boyardee with me?
she doesnât read it. you close the tab.Â
and you put your head down. and work.
xxx
itâs in a chiliâs. like, you donât even like chiliâs? chiliâs sucks, but the boss ordered it so youâre here to pick it up, wondering if he gave you enough money to cover. things have been bad recently. thousands dying. whoever switched sides is too powerful to stop. they destroy anyone and anything, no matter the cost.
the phoenix fire smells like pistachios, you realize. you feel at once part of yourself and very far. it happens so quickly, but you feel it slowly. you wonder if shay is involved, but know she is not.
the doors burst in. thereâs screaming. those in the area try their powers to defend themselves, but everyone is civilian division. the smell of pistachios is cloying.Â
then they see you. and you see them. and you put your hands on your hips.
âexcuse me, tris,â you say, âwhat are you doing?â
thereâs tears in her eyes. âi need the money,â she croaks.
âFrom a chiliâs?â you want to know, âwho in their right mind robs a chiliâs? what are you going to do, steal their mozzarella sticks?â
âitâs connected to a bank on the east wall,â she explains, âbut i thought it was stupid too.â
you shake your head. you pull out your personal checkbook. you ask her how much she needs, and you see her crying. you promise her the rest when you get your paycheck.
someone bursts into the room. shouts things. demands they start killing.Â
but youâre standing in the way, and none of them will kill you or hurt you, because they all know you, and you helped them at some point or another, or helped their friend, or helped their children.
tris takes the money, everyone leaves. by the time the heroes show up, youâve gotten everyone out of the building.
the next time you see tris, sheâs marrying a beautiful woman, and living happily, having sent her cancer running. youâre a bridesmaid at the wedding.
xxx
âyou just,â the director wants to know now, âsent them running?âÂ
hanson stands between her and you, although you donât need the protection.
âno,â you say again, for the millionth time, âi just gave her the money she needed and told her to stop it.â
âthe phoenix group,â the director of squadron 300 has a vein showing, âdoes not just stop it.â
you donât mention the social issues which confound to make criminal activity a necessity for some people, or how certain stereotypes forced people into negative roles to begin with, or how an uneven balance of power punished those with any neurodivergence. instead you say, âyeah, they do.â
âiâm telling you,â hanson says, âwe brought her out a few times. it happens every time. they wonât hurt her. we need her on our team.â
your spine is stiff. âi donât do well as a weapon,â you say, voice low, knowing these two people could obliterate you if they wished. but you wonât use peopleâs trust against them, not for anything. besides, itâs not like trust is your superpower. youâre just a normal person.
hanson snorts. âno,â he says, âbut i like that when you show up, the fighting just⊠stops. thatâs pretty nice, kid.â
âdo you know⊠what we are dealing withâŠ. since agent 25⊠shiftedâŠ.?â the directorâs voice is thin.
âyeah,â hanson says, âthatâs why i think sheâd be useful, you know? add some peace to things.â
the director sits down. sighs. waves her hand. âwhatever,â she croaks, âdo what you want. reassign her.â
hanson leads you out. over your shoulder, you see her put her head in her hands. later, you get her a homemade spa kit, and make sure to help her out by making her a real dinner from time to time, something sheâs too busy for, mostly.
at night, you write shay messages you donât send. telling her things you cannot manage.
one morning you wake up to a terrible message: shay is gone. never to be seen again.
xxx
youâre eating ice cream when you find him.
behind you, the city is burning. hundreds dead, if not thousands.
heâs staring at the river. maybe half-crying. itâs hard to tell, his body is shifting, seemingly caught between all things and being nothing.
âooh buddy,â you say, passing him a cone-in-a-cup, the way he likes it, âtalk about a night on the town.â
the bench is burning beside him, so you put your jacket down and snuff it out. itâs hard sitting next to him. he emits so much.
âhey tim?â you say.Â
âyeah?â his voice is a million voices, a million powers, a terrible curse.Â
âcan i help?â you ask.
he eats a spoonful of ice cream.Â
âyeah,â he says eventually. âi think i give up.â
xxx
later, when they praise you for defeating him, you wonât smile. they try to put you in the media; an all-time hero. you decline every interview and press conference. you attend his funeral with a veil over your head.
the box goes into the ground. you canât stop crying.
youâre the only one left at the site. itâs dark now, the subtle night.
you feel her at your side and something in your heart stops hurting. a healing you didnât know you needed. her hands find yours.
âthey wanted me to kill him,â she says, âthey thought iâd be the only one who could.â her hands are warm. you arenât breathing.
âbeat you to it,â you say.Â
âi see that,â she tells you.Â
you both stand there. crickets nestle the silence.
âyou know,â she says eventually, âi have no idea which side is the good one.â
âi think thatâs the point of a good metaphor about power and control,â you say, âit reflects the human spirit. no tool or talent is good or bad.â
âjust useful,â she whispers. after a long time, she wonders, âso what does that make us?â
xxx
itâs a long trek up into the mountains. shay seems better every day. more solid. less like sheâs on another plane.
âheard youâre a top ten,â she tells me, her breath coming out in a fog. youâve reclassed her to civilian. it took calling in a few favors, but youâve got a lot.Â
âyeah,â you say, âinvulnerable.â
âoh, is that your superpower?â she laughs. she knows itâs not.
âthatâs what theyâre calling it,â you tell her, out of breath the way she is not, âitâs how they explain a person like me at the top.â
âif that means ânobody wants to kill meâ, i think iâm the opposite.â but sheâs laughing, in a light way, a way thatâs been missing from her.
the cabin is around the corner. the lights are already on.Â
âsomebodyâs home,â i grin.
tim, just tim, tim who isnât forced into war and a million reflections, opens the door. âcome on in.â xxx squadron one, division three. a picture of shay in a wedding dress is on my desk. she looks radiant, even though sheâs marrying little old me.
what do i do? just what iâm best at. whatâs not a superpower. what anyone is capable of: just plain old helping.
Written art. Beautiful. Better than most movies. Please read and share.
WHERE IS HE, MARVEL!!!!!!