"Death First To Vultures And Scavengers" Is Such A Hard Line I Wish That There Were Scenarios Where I

It's finals season, which means I've blocked shorts on youtube and also the entire instagram explore page using an app that blocks social media for me because I'm irresponsible and addicted to my phone.

Thank god it doesn't see tumblr as a real social media site and therefore doesn't block anything from it, or else I'd have no way to procrastinate my work.

Ohhhh god something something story uhhhhh.....

The first thing I wished I had been told about the snow was how fucking cold it was. People had mentioned it being cold before, but not one person said how immediately and completely the frost would settle into my being. How it would seep through my skin and muscles and pierce my bones with ice. No one mentioned how my hands would hurt from the cold, how hard it would be to curl my frozen fingers around my sword.

There were no bugs, no birds, and no wind. Nothing to hide the crunch of my feet in the snow. It was an odd sound. I was sure that snow wasn't meant to sound like that, but then again, I'd never encountered it before, so what did I know? My breath, steady and slow, fogged out in front of me like a dragon's breath. I eyeballed the structure before me, watching for any sign of movement. Arches and spires, the color of which vaguely resembled the rust on my borrowed weapon, towered before me. The bridge, and the platform at the end which the building rested on, dropped down into a deadly fall, the bottom and anything beyond that repeating structure obscured by fog.

The trail of foot prints in front of me had been filled by snow, but there was only one place they could have led to. The wind picked up, whipping little shards of ice and snow into my squinting eyes. I tilted my head against it and pushed onwards, nearing the entrance. I knew that my enemy waited somewhere inside. I knew that my mission was almost complete.

just as a general reminder

learn how to fact-check for yourself, cause soon enough, most online sources won't be reliable

Slightly unrelated to the original post but I saw an ai "artist" on Instagram who had the nerve to charge a commission for their "art". Charging money. Real money. For typing some words into an ai program. They had "ai artist" in their bio. And they were charging real money for their commissions. I wish I got screenshots but instead I chose to click "not interested" and move on with my life.

ai does not belong in creative spaces. period.

...does Harrow even know what "death first to vultures and scavengers" means? Or was she just sitting there thinking "well, I have to say something, and I know Griddle's going to make a fool of herself, but I can't just stand by and let the eighth get away with this. I'd better say something fitting of the ninth house."

Like. Do you think she said that, then immediately thought to herself "what the fuck was that?"

Do you think Gideon was laying in bed later that night thinking "what the hell did she say? Was it some obscure ninth saying I never bothered to learn? What the fuck?"

Do you think the other houses were there thinking "what did that strange little nun say? Was it a spell? A curse? Am I cursed now?" Or did some of them think "pfft, why did she say that? Was it a lame attempt at sounding cooler than all of us?"

I dunno, I finally have time to work on some TLT tattoo designs and this has been on my mind the whole time.

"Death first to vultures and scavengers" is such a hard line I wish that there were scenarios where I could use it in my day to day life without eventually having to explain that the quote was said by a scrawny teenaged(?) nun in response to what is essentially a dick measuring contest run by a bunch of idiots who have no business being unsupervised for that long anyways.

My teammate said she got busted for using chatgpt today and I burst out laughing and said "so not only did you USE chatgpt, but you also got CAUGHT doing it?"

We need to publicly shame these people.

we need to make using chatgpt embarrassing bc sorry it really is. what do you mean you can’t write an email

I'll be crafting the most beautiful prose in the shower or the car, like stuff that even Shakespeare can't touch, or the most gut-wrenching, spine-chilling horror scene, but the moment I have a free second to write, the best I can do is "SUDDENLY there was a Very Loud Noise and everyone was very scared. AND THEN the monster appeared and went BOO!"

My brain the second I sit down to write:

John Gaius shortly before eating the solar system to kill some useless bastard billionaires, creating the creatures that would hunt him and his friends down for the next 10000 years and also the Barbie that will (hopefully) lead to his downfall in the process.

sometimes i wonder what it's like to he mentally stable. anyway *resets the universe* this time it's gonna work out for sure

Me, personally, I think they'd have a sort of begrudging, quiet bond called "I'm surrounded by people who are trying to befriend me and am deeply horrified by that thought"