“Not every relationship needs to end up married with a white picket fence and two kids, in fact I don’t even think they would make good parents” I say as I make my 500th fan kid oc
seen from Germany

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“Not every relationship needs to end up married with a white picket fence and two kids, in fact I don’t even think they would make good parents” I say as I make my 500th fan kid oc
I wasn’t supposed to touch it.
It was locked away in a cedar box with a note: “Only to be used under moonlight, and never when the tide is low.”
The brass was still warm. The dials turned without resistance—as if something on the other end was guiding me.
It doesn't point North. Never has. Just spins slow... and points somewhere deeper.
My uncle said he got it from a shop that specializes in maritime salvage. But he won’t tell me the name.
⚓ Would you follow it?
(Found this piece through a niche antique supplier. Perfect for collectors of the strange & stellar.)
“If Mike Wolfe ever saw this sextant, he’d probably trade a whole truckload of rusted oil signs for it. Just saying.”
STAR TREK FRANCHISE - OCTOBER 21, 2025 - MIXED MEDIA CARTOON
Birthdays have not been exempted aboard the Invincible, even when the crew has drifted far from the planet their calendars originated from. It’s a good opportunity to boost morale, to find some form of normalcy with the wormholes out in space.
So another crew member’s birthday rolls around, and another celebration is prepared. There’s a cake set out on the table and balloons floating near the ceiling (maybe even some karaoke prepared). The engineering team is the first to greet Yancy with cheers when he enters the room.
The Captain stays near the back and allows the partygoers to give their birthday wishes to their fellow crew mate; it’s only fair. But they’re the one to present the group present.
“The word around the ship is that you like to dance,” they say, holding out the gift, “and the uniforms don’t lend themselves to that.” Awaiting Yancy inside the box is a pair of tap shoes — now, how did those get on a spaceship? (@c-aptainslog birthday!!)
(Birthday!!)
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Ever since he stepped foot on the Invincible, Yancy did everything within his power to keep personal details to himself. As far as the crew were aware, 'Yancy' was his birth name, and he wanted a fresh start away from everything. Only the superiors knew the details of his past.
Yet... How did someone figure out it was his birthday?
If anyone had asked him, he would have insisted this was for a team meeting. Instead, there was an entire party? For him?? And even the Captain was there??
This was all so very bizarre.
The engineering team were quick to rally around him, those he worked with frequently wishing him well and playfully punching his shoulder as they commented about him 'being the centre of attention for once'. However, it was clear that they all knew something he didn't.
The Captain approached with a medium-sized box. Confusion was clear as day at the Captain's correct observation - but how did they know? He definitely had a reputation for humming while working and trying to slip in music lyrics when there was a reference to something made, but the dancing... He didn't think that was such a careless thing to be caught doing.
He opened the box, and was shocked to discover a pristine pair of tap shoes. How was that even possible? Surely frivolities like this were restricted in order to reduce the day-to-day cargo, right? Or maybe that was the norm in Happy Trails.
Speaking of Happy Trails, the Invincible was a far cry from that. Where he would have been wary of being caught performing such a hobby in front of prisoners he didn't know, there was no hidden semblance of jeering or mockery from the partygoers. If anything, people seemed curious about it. Maybe there were others on board who also danced? Even the Captain's tone lacked any sort of belittlement. It was a passing observation, nothing more.
One thing was for sure - Yancy didn't need to be the man who was tough as nails, but always on guard. He might be able to be a little more... normal.
"Heh, youse could say that. Real rusty though. Not gonna make a fool outta myself in front of everyone right now. But I, uh... Thank you, Captain." He was certainly grateful for this second chance at life, even if others wanted him to rot in a cell. "It means a lot that youse would wanna find something nice for one of them low-ranked folks like me."
Captain's Log
Wednesday, July 17, 2024 CDT 0740
Ahoy!
It's been a while since I've made one of these posts, sorry about the dust...
You may or may not know, but No Man's Sky is releasing an update today!! In preparation for this event, I made sure to catalog my Freighter Base, so I would at least have a blueprint if the worse were to happen
Yes! That's right! A video, for once!!!
Enjoy the tour, and as always,
Happy (solar) sailing!!!
Something needs to be done about the stowaway. That’s clear enough. Nothing catastrophic has happened, but oh, the stress. The Captain has been stressed. Where did he come from? If he isn’t a colonist, and has no cryo pod, what will happen to him when the warp core is engaged?
That may not be an issue, but they have no way of knowing that.
This is a way of opening conversation! Hopefully. It comes in the form of a note, stuck to one of the places Wilford has known to be spotted.
Dear Stowaway,
I have concerns that you wandering around the ship will be hazardous to yourself during travel. I only ask that you be careful. I don’t know who you are or why you’re here. Perhaps you can write back, if there’s anything you’re willing to divulge? — The Captain
The formality of the note is quietly undermined by a container of cookies nearby; a thank you for previous gifts. (c-aptainslog is here and still confused)
@c-aptainslog
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Why was he here? Great question!
The crew were at the end of their wits trying to catch the elusive pink figure. It didn't make sense! Those that spotted him insisted he was large and clumsy. It shouldn't be so agile! And yet he was! He'd disappear in an instant if they couldn't catch him fast enough!
Rumours of the stowaway having a sweet tooth emerged, and it was enough to get his attention, but never get him caught in the traps. That is, until the Captain took matters into their own hands.
The note was (eventually) spotted by Wilford, and he nearly dismissed it entirely if it weren't for the bribe of cookies. The entire container was claimed, and one cookie placed in his mouth, while reading the note. His head tilted left, then right, before he decided he probably should reply. A tiny entrance to the pocket dimension was opened so he could put the container inside, and lift out a notebook and a sparkly green pen (jazzing it up this time!).
Dear The Captain,
Don't worry, I'm very careful while travelling around. I always watch where I'm walking. Thank you for your concern.
The Stowaway
Another note was left on top of that:
The cookies are nice!
Followed by:
Call me Wilford ;)
And then, he turned a corner and blinked out of sight.
Just a couple of fun guys logging on to browse the interwebs 😎 . Some brown, some green 🤔 . #Ourcelium #CapTainsLog #Mushrooms #きのこ #Champignons #Fungi #FungiPhotography #Oak #Log #WinterGardening #Zone9bGardening #Zone9b #Permaculture https://www.instagram.com/p/CMNntT2gQE0/?igshid=zxghb1jwosak
Captain's log, entry #12, "The Sum"
The greenery is slowly slinking back, not all that much, but the fruit is all gone and some of the perennials are browning. We wait for chill in the air, yellowing of leaves and the smell of smoke to take us back to memories of autumns past.
Preparing the boat for the long voyage south for winter. Up a short river, through locks, then across a huge lake, a river, then another lake... The nights are downright cold at first. The trip is slow, so there's not a lot of temperature change except for the normal warm and cold fronts. There's enough money for diesel and rations, a few repairs, probably, and if not, I'll work in a diner or machine shop or something along the way.
On one of these stops, I am enamored with port city charm, and realize that this is my life. I'm not going to back to having an address, just literally going to drift through the rest of my days. No real bills, just fuel and food and repairs.
Along the way the brain conjures up many a hair-brained idea, such as fishing for food. It works okay sometimes, but the smell of fish is pretty bad, it gets everywhere. Somewhere along the way I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror in a pub and realize I am a lost seafaring soul now. Unshaven, dirty, and while I can't tell anymore, I'm sure I smell awful.
A dog follows me to the boat one night and decides to stay. Another mouth to feed, I hope he likes fish. The sunrises are my favorite, though I don't know why. The orange glow rises and chases away the fog, then melts it completely into the water. Every day has promise, but it's not needed now. It's just a leftover emotional response from the old life. Sunrises aren't mean to be triggers, just to be enjoyed.
There's nothing to do with these ideas except write them down somewhere. Maybe someone will find them of use. Business plans written by a fogged out old mind. Another holdover item I can't seem to shake.