seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from India
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Poland
seen from Netherlands
seen from Japan
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from India
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Maldives
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Peru
Man I am so demotivated though
The American elections results are so depressing. I don't want to make this blog particularly political (I am very political but let's keep this a bit separate as far as you can separate conscious consumerism from politics), so imma keep it short:
Bad puts the finishing touches on Asha's new propeller hat and hums happily to themself. It's darker than Trumpet's - his are almost pastel, whereas hers are almost earth-toned, and, of course, she has a wide, green bill. Siblings, but not identical.
He flicks the propeller, then puts his fist into the hat and flicks it again, just to make sure it'll be able to spin on her head.
Perfect.
He and Asha don't typically interact unless she needs something, so they'll typically go a few days at a time without seeing each other. Bad finds himself hoping that she's in her house so he can say hi - but he knows that that's also rare. She loves to explore, keeping carefully to patches of daylight.
Maybe, if nobody else needs him, he'll sit in the house and wait for her! He should bring something else. He should bring a hot meal. She likes warm food.
When he finally warps out of the house, he's got cookies and stew in tow.
He steps out of all the purple particles, still humming ("Skeppy, Skeppy-Skeppy...") and looks up at Asha's house. The door's open. She's probably out...then...
Bad stops in the doorway, staring down blankly at the floor. There's blood. A few sparse spatters, stained brown and blending into colored tile, but he can sense it, can smell Asha's life-stuff in little, stale wisps.
He steps further in, eyes scanning the ground. There's a few feathers scattered on the floor, floating lightly as his steps disturb the air in the room. Claw marks, dragging from deeper gouges to shallower scrapes across the ground.
The deepest ones are angled toward the bell in the corner.
...
Nine feet of reaper unfolds itself from the doorway again, the grass withering beneath its footsteps.
cyrus and cynthia
ergo proxy
clair umineko
i simply think that essek
oxaliix submitted:
Apologies for the lighting,, can anyone help with this science lab? I was ill when we did it in class. Thanks!!
update:
