Cross stitch transformers bumble bee

scriptural support: psalm 46:10 “be still and know that I am God”, proverbs 3:5 “lean not on your own understanding”, matthew 6 “do not worry”, 2 timothy 1:7 “God has given us the gift of a sound mind”.
y’all this sub is full of bike shedding and overthinking and preaching and speculating about the same things every day. i assure you, this is not what Jesus has called us to do. He just wants us to be close to Him. so if you’re thinking about all these different things that might be a sin, or what people think about your life or relationship with God, or you just want to get on a soap box and argue… think of the finished work of the cross: that you can just be still and be held in the arms of the Father, and the Spirit will transform your heart from there. that’s it. it’s simple. we can stop carrying on about masturbation now. our Savior didn’t choose the passion so we could spend our time doing that. go pray. go in peace.

I'm Cal. I'd like to make some good friends off of here. I tend to get along with guys better than girls because I grew up being friends with mostly guys but I'm chill with everyone. I live in California (so PST timezone) and I'm autistic. My special interests are bugs, plants, and astrology. I'm also pagan, which is pretty neat. I plan on getting a phd in entomology. My other interests include music, video games, cats, horror media (especially youtube and internet horror), making origamis, doing cross stitch, and crocheting. My favorite kind of people are the people I can play video games with and just space out. The multiplayer games I have if you want to play with me are stardew valley (on xbox and pc), dead by daylight, and minecraft but I'm willing to download any game, just know that I'm bad at video games and probably won't improve much.

It’s a plain white strip with a collar and three buttons. The badge is very minimal in design and a pale blue, unlike the typically dark blue crest with red and other colours on the flowers. Not sure who made the shirt but I suspect it was Umbro and has double stitching on the shoulders. I further details come to mind and I cannot ask the guy to confirm because he was quite ‘emotional’ after the game - for the record, he has form for being aggressive and this is the direct outcome of another streak of aggression. This is not a peace offering. More me doing right by myself after he flared up a few times then rightly pointed out I’d ripped his shirt as a result of an our contesting for the same ball.
Would prefer to replace it like for like but will settle for a close match if necessary. Not prepared to spend too much given he was the one to cross the line.

Chapter One
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Prev
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-Factory Floor of the White Flame Industries Magifactory-
“First of all, I’d like to introduce you to your new co-workers. To reiterate, they aren’t directly from the hell-plane.” Master Demonologist Thippily was in his element, smiling and excited. He stepped aside to reveal an engraved chest behind him. He opened it, revealing a neat grid of small dark rods, each in their slot. He pulled out a single ebony imp totem and held it high so everyone could see it. The room was bright, lit by the narrow windows spaced evenly around the huge room, and some glass skylights overhead, and astonishing extravagance for Pine Bluffs.
“This is the totem. Without going into some super interesting details, this is what projects the imp, as well as binds it to our plane of reality.” Grigory paused, clearly waiting for someone to ask him to explain in more detail. Everyone in the room had fallen into that trap before and knew to keep their mouths shut. “They need to be invoked into our reality, but the invocation is a very simple gesture. Interestingly, the invocation itself doesn’t require magic, it’s all self-contained, just hold the thick side of the totem and–”
Grigory flicked the totem with a swift twist of his wrist, summoning a muted thunderclap that heralded the appearance of a tiny, dull-red demon. It materialised midair, landing with a soft clatter of hooves on the stone floor. It regarded its surroundings with its one big eye and sat down cross-legged, its big knobby knees sticking out widely.
Taritha, along with most of the rest of the audience, took some involuntary steps back in horror. It was grotesque, inhuman—a parody of a man, so diminutive that she could have trapped him in a woven basket. Though taller than a squirrel, its scrawny frame suggested it weighed no more than one. Sitting perfectly still it was less threatening, but the air itself stank of hell. Looking around, Grigory and Stanisk were both smiling, like they were waiting for us to get a funny joke, while the entire crew stared horrified at the little imp.
Grigory continued, with a showman’s cadence, ”First of all let me once again say they are safe! Imp! Take this knife and bring me Stanisk’s ear!” The demonologist crouched low with his silvered steel pocket knife on his open palm.
Before anyone could react, the imp just said, “Nerp.” Stanisk for his part didn’t look remotely worried.
“No matter what you ask it to do, it will refuse the order if it would hurt any living thing. Very safe! Well, large living things? People and animals for sure!” Grigory folded his knife and put it back in his pocket. “Come to the side, I’ll show you more why this is the most potent magic I’ve ever used. I’ve not finished furnishing your quarters yet, so let's work on that.” He led them across the floor to the side where a few planks were on one of the shelves, practically lost in the scale of the room.
As he spoke, he performed a different and more elaborate gesture over the chest. Like popcorn, a steady stream of imps popped into existence; Taritha lost count at twenty, with more continuing to appear. Without hesitation, they pulled tiny tools from boxes. The low, wide benches around the perimeter were actually imp-sized workbenches designed for such tasks. “Imps, craft one writing desk, sturdy with martial engravings. Use both pine and walnut,” he ordered.They moved quickly and confidently, and without a sound, other than the tools against the wood. It was an overwhelming swirl of activity, with so much happening at the same time that she couldn’t follow it all, so she focused on a single imp. He (it?) wielded a chisel in both hands and shaped a plank while two other imps held the plank firm. In as little time as it took for her to take it in, it was done. It started on another plank, while yet another imp ran away with the finished board.
Edging closer for a better look, their rapid, nimble movements were even more unnatural. Their limbs were long and agile, flitted about with eerie precision. The sight clawed at my gut, as revolting as watching a spider write a song with a quill on parchment. Their faces, such as they were, barely watched their own work.
Still reeling from what she saw, Taritha watched as one imp finished up and another sprinted away with the board. Then, the first imp picked up a tiny broom to tidy his workspace. Once the sawdust and shavings were cleared, it replaced its tools and sat down on the workbench, legs crossed, back straight and his single eye open and regarding the demonologist. Looking further down the row, she saw that the countless parts had been assembled into what was by all accounts an amazing desk. The imps covered the entire bench, still too many to count.
A pot wouldn’t have even started to boil in the amount of time it took them to build that thing!
Grigory noticed the discomfort in the room; everyone seemed torn between their unease with the demons and their curiosity about the work being done. He decided to remove their distraction. 'Imps, stand at the kilns,' he commanded crisply.
“Merp!”
The imps bounded and sprinted across the entire factory to stand by the kilns, well out of the way, and stood in straight rows at the far side of the factory floor.
“Take a look, It might be a familiar level of quality. Oh, and those are the only two words they seem to know.” He gestured to the completed desk on the bench.
“Holy shit, they are as good as the guys that made our stuff in the barracks, this is amazing!” Ros gushed.
The desk, crafted entirely from wood, had no screws or brackets—only amazingly intricate joinery. Its surfaces were smooth to the touch, except for the vertical faces, which displayed scenes of war and battle. They were created in a palette of carved white pine and deep walnut, shaded with hellfire scorches—some almost too small to see.
“You don’t think that, uh, they’re the same guys?” Rikad ventured.
“No, I haven’t been sleeping on a demon bed this whole time? Have I?” Theros said with growing horror.
“Of course! Not just that, the mugs in the cabinet, the bedding, the clothes, literally everything from the midsummer festival! Imps made it all, most of that was late at night in my bedroom, to be honest!” Mage Thippily said, bursting with pride.
Theros looked down at his bright green shirt, one he’d worn countless times, and immediately pulled it off, threw it on the floor and took a few steps back. “It was touching me!”
Wow, he’s in really good shape, Taritha observed approvingly. A refreshing reprise from the stressful morning.
I’ve no idea how I’d react if I knew I was wearing demon-made clothes. Oh shit.
“Uh, were all the clothes you’ve given me made by imps?” She asked Stanisk, already knowing the answer.
His laugh was deep and rumbling, “I sure as goat balls ain’t been sitting in the lamplight with a lil needle! It's fine miss, they’re handy as hell. Put yer damned shirt on Theros, and let’s keep moving.”
Grigory continued, “Yes, don’t worry too much about complex imp commands, that’s my responsibility. You are welcome to come to the factory whenever you like if you need something, anything at all. But please, don’t make anything outside of this room, just to keep things neat.”
Mustering her nerve Taritha piped up, “Uh, Sir? Can they make me a new comb?”
The demonologist was almost giddy with excitement at her request. “Oh yes! Ask them to!”
“Uh, I’d like a comb please?” Taritha gently said towards the swarm of imps by the kiln.
Nothing happened.
“Ah, there’s a bit of a knack to it, miss. You’se gotta address ‘em, then make the request. Then stay silent for a bit, and they’ll go. Imps! Craft five wooden combs for a lady, all different styles.” Stanisk said firmly, with the same tone and cadence he ordered his men.
A small handful of imps sprinted across the floor back to their workbenches, and this time the combs were done staggeringly fast. The tool noise ended, and Stanisk collected the combs off the bench as they tidied up then sat cross-legged. He placed them all firmly into her hands with a big grin, his hands warm and callused. “Anythin’ that can be made, any time you’se want. It’s a better way to live.”
Of course, each comb was perfect and beautiful. Each was unique, all had patterns, textures, and carvings on the handle. Each was made out of both pine and walnut, giving a pleasing contrast with pale and dark.
I would have bought a plain one, but these are so much nicer than anything I’ve owned before.
The linseed oil was still a little slick on them, so she held off running them through her hair and gently placed them into her satchel. Already they were her most prized possessions.
Grigory added, “Feel free to get me or Stanisk if you need help, but you’ll catch on fast enough, they are simplicity itself! Anyways let's have a look at the common spaces, I think you’ll find them much nicer than that old warehouse!”
Grigory’s tour was terrifying and overwhelming. He introduced new appliances, concepts and enchantments with every breath. The kitchen had no fire, just pyrostones that could be activated by moving an inhibitor stone, and in both the ‘stones’ were carved into a pleasing functional shape. The water jugs were massive rooftop barrels, linked by copper pipes to a fixed basin he called a sink. There were countless other minor and major strangenesses. Even the plain parts, the high ceilings, the smooth tiled floors and sturdy doors blew her mind. She’d never seen anything as refined, effortlessly expensive. She assumed such things existed in the homes of the nobility, but she’d never seen a building as grand, let alone been inside one. The trappings of wealth and the unique, fully enchanted aspects ran together badly for her.
“--This mattress is a series of magically linked columns of woven wool that dynamically change their diameter, which in turn–” Grigory droned on excitedly gesturing towards a gorgeous bed, as big as her entire hovel.
“Sir, souls don’t exist at all, or just for demons?” Theros interrupted, his face clouded with worry.
“Oh. Uh, I’m sure you have a soul, just not one that I have any way of detecting, affecting or interacting with?” Grigory said. His brow was furrowed with concern. He continued as conciliatory as possible. “And afterlives are likely some extraplanar reality that is also entirely undetectable?”
“Whew, that’s a relief! Thank you milord!” his stress melted away and he returned his full attention to the tour.
“Right. Anyways, there are no hearths, the heating and cooling of each room is controlled by–” and Mage Thippily happily continued his tour. The men looked at each other, taking a half dozen different conclusions from the short exchange. They continued to the extravagant latrines, to the totally empty armoury, and finally ended on the factory’s roof.
As they ascended the final flight of stairs, Mage Thippily ushered his soldiers onto the expansive rooftop. "Here we have the rooftop garden," he announced with a grand sweep of his hand. The area had been meticulously reinforced, the stonework beneath their feet solid and reassuring. "Feel free to run drills here if you like. But," his voice warmed with pride, "this is my favourite part!"
The rooftop was a vibrant tapestry of newly potted plants, their leaves still tender and bright against the sun. They passed rows of greenery that hinted at future seclusion and colour. Familiar patio furniture, just like the ones they had at their last barracks, offered a semblance of continuity and sanity. In the centre, a gazebo stood like a freshly bloomed flower, its newness evident in the crispness of the vibrant canvas and the shine of the wood.
Approaching the north wall, Grigory leaned casually against the defensive ramparts, a solid structure that spoke of strategic design. His men gathered around, following his gaze outward.
Beyond the fortress walls, a wide expanse of forest stretched toward the horizon, its canopy a patchwork of greens and browns. Where the trees broke, the land transformed dramatically into a steep, rocky shore. Below, the Nerian Sea churned, its waves crashing against the cliffs with relentless, rhythmic fury. From this vantage point, the view of the coastline stretched magnificently—a panoramic display of nature’s unbridled power and beauty.
"I’m thinking of adding all-weather tables and chairs up here," The demonologist mused, breaking the silence as his eyes scanned the horizon. "Maybe some cover and heaters too, to turn it into a kind of three-season space." His gaze drifted back to his hirelings, a tacit invitation in his eyes. "Feel free to come up here whenever you like. I only ask that you don’t interrupt me if you see me reading or writing."
Taritha nearly scoffed aloud, the idea of interrupting him was so many layers of taboo that the thought hadn’t even formed. The men seemed more at ease here, and several took seats and talked excitedly. Others walked the long perimeter of the rooftop. The sides closest to the courtyard extended to the top of the perimeter walls, allowing them to walk all the way to the gatehouse. Ros stood near her, looking out at the ocean.
“I didn’t think I’d ever get to set foot in a palace like this!” he said in hushed reverence as she joined her.
“Yeah, the funny part is how humble the mage keeps making it sound. As if it’s a boring workman's hut. I have no idea how the emperor lives, but I bet he doesn’t have half as many things as the mage does!” Taritha grinned ruefully.
“Definitely fewer imps! What do you think of them? I think they are the most special thing ever!” Ros gushed.
“I don’t know. They disgust and revolt me, but I also see how they are useful. I worry my reaction is based on assumptions I’ve not examined? Mage, I guess Demonologist, Thippily has been nothing but kind and open in every interaction, so I think I’m okay? With living with demons.”
Just saying that out loud made her skin crawl.
“That’s good! It’ll be alright, if the Chief and the mage think it’s good, it’s good.” Ros declared resolutely. She envied his clarity.
“Yes, we just became a lot more dependent on his goodwill. On the other hand, he didn’t have to tell us anything. He could have lied or covered up,” she said, staring out at the ocean. She’d never been so high up. The slight slope of the woods meant she could see over most trees. It both scared and exhilarated her. She leaned forward to look down and was rewarded with dizzying vertigo. Holding onto the rough stone battlements with both hands she looked out into the grey blue of the inland sea. She could see some fishing boats, just specks near the horizon, far beyond the small scraggly islands that clustered near the shore.
“Are you gonna move in with us? You didn’t say anything when he made the offer.” Ros made another attempt at casual subtly.
That was the exact question she’d been asking herself. On one hand, it was an incredible offer: to live in what might be the most luxurious residence in the entire Empire. And it would be safer, too—while the guards weren’t exactly her own, here they might as well be. But at what cost? Memories of her mother, executed by the Church for witchcraft, haunted her. Would accepting this offer make the Church right about her bloodline? Would it make her just like the evil she’d always feared? Mage Thippily seemed certain that demons weren’t evil, just a chaotic part of a chaotic universe. He knew more about demons than anyone that’s ever lived!
It’s easier to sleep with a guilty conscience in a nice warm room with tall ceilings and a soft bed.
She made her choice, and her stomach lurched as if she’d jumped from the battlement. She took a slow steadying breath before replying.
“I’d be insane not to. Look at this place! Have you seen where I’m living now? No comparison!” Her light tone hid the storm of uncertainties that were making her lightheaded.
This doesn’t have to be forever. Plus the demons seem quiet.
“Let’s go get your stuff! I’ll help you move right now!”
“Ohhhhh, okay. I can’t think of a single reason not to do that right now,” Taritha said slowly.
They started back to the staircase, passing Stanisk on the way. He was quietly discussing something with the mage.
“Sir, is it alright if we go get Taritha’s stuff and move her in?” Ros’s voice crackled with excitement.
“Aye, that’s fine. Take a few others with you, to load the cart at the warehouse and get our gear too. You and the men take the rooms on the second floor, the miss here is too delicate by half for you’se brutes so set her up on the third, 3-C oughta work?”
“We can have a company dinner when you all return! Come up here when you are ready!” Demonologist Thippily commented from where he was sitting.
Stanisk added, “I probably don’t need to tell you’se but don’t NEVER discuss what happens here when in town. Never.” His tone was low and flat, but he made direct unblinking eye contact with them.
“Of course, sir,” Ros said and bowed awkwardly, and the herbalist nodded as they descended the way they came.
They made their way down through the residence side of the factory, crossing to the exit via the second-floor dormitories. Everything was so new, and a few things weren’t entirely finished –some doors leaned against the hallway, and several rooms weren’t furnished.
“There are twelve of you in security, excluding your boss, right?” she asked as they walked.
“Yeah, the same twelve as we had in Jagged Cove!” Ros confirmed cheerfully.
“So why do you reckon there are twenty rooms on this level, and I assume the same number on the other third floor?” she asked.
“Hmm, maybe in case we have visitors?” he offered.
“Strange. Oh, hey guys,” She greeted Eowin, Kedril and Theros as they waited at the end of the hallway.
“The Chief said you needed a hand with moving stuff?”
Ros quickly and clearly explained their plan, and they hooked up the horse and wagon and headed to town. The trip back to town seemed shorter as everyone quietly contemplated their new futures.
“So his, uh, helpers would have made all the stuff we’ve been using?” Kedril wondered aloud.
“Yeah, I specifically asked about the clothes! They all were. It sounds like everything he’s done, he kind of hasn’t done?” Taritha trailed off, unsure what she even thought.
“No, everything he did was even better! He made something that anyone can use! Any one of us could open a factory just like him now, it’s the magic that made the tool, which is a full step more impressive if you ask me,” Ros said.
“Wait, so all those people healed? Was that all with them?!” Theros said with growing horror.
“Nah, I was there, he‘s a regular mage too. I saw him heal them with normal biomancy.” She said as if she had a single other point of reference for what biomancy ought to look like.
They continued in contemplative quietude. The midweek afternoon was busy, and lots of townsfolk were doing their normal chores, fetching water, hauling bundles, and feeding their chickens. Their pastoral tranquillity undisturbed by the demonic horde just down the twisting narrow road to what was recently a swampy forest.
“You guys go on to the barracks and start packing, I’ll be able to bring most of my stuff by myself. I’ll meet you there.” Taritha said as they approached an intersection.
“I’ll give you a hand, the fellas will be pretty quick anyhow,” Ros said gallantly as he accompanied her home.
“Alright, but you can’t judge me for my hut! It’s hard to make a living here without a wealthy patron!” she said. She hadn’t really wanted anyone to know how she lived. City folk wouldn’t understand what it’s like scraping by to survive a winter.
“I’m already impressed! That you owned a place free and clear makes you one of the richest folk I know! Well definitely richer than anyone that would talk to me in the days before I worked for Mage Thippily!” Ros spoke with a smile neither proud nor ashamed of his past.
“What did you do before you were an elite mage guard? You said you were poor but city poor is like country rich! I bet you were the captain of the guard for some rich merchant or something!”” she guessed as she ducked past the hide flap into her hut. “Wait here.”
Ros found a hefty log of firewood with moss growing on one side of it. With a grunt, he manoeuvred it upright, fashioning a makeshift and somewhat precarious stool. Seating himself atop it, he settled in to wait for her, the forest sounds filling the quiet. “Something like that! I picked fruit in orchards, I swept alleys, I did plenty of stuff! I was way too scrawny to be a guardsman though. Stanisk probably only hired me because he’d had a few beers that night!”
The inside of the hut had some clanks and thumps but she didn’t reply. He folded his arms and looked around. He’d come to appreciate the ancient pine forests around the small town. They were actually in town, but surrounded as they were by trees, he felt like he was in the primordial forest. It was the first forest he’d ever seen and hadn’t spent much time in it. His duties kept him constantly busy, other than the work trip to kill the big staghog. Considering all the trees, mosses, low flowers, and darty animals he saw, it felt a little unfair that it just smelled earthy, with the barest hint of pine. If he were in charge of forests, they’d smell like a thousand living things all at once.
“Need a hand?” he offered after a bit longer. He didn’t want to rush her, but he was also happy to help. He was comfortable and wondering if he’d changed at least a bit. Sitting on a log with his thoughts was something he liked now.
“Thanks, Ros, I got it. Do you reckon I should bring my old mattress, or he’ll give me one like he showed us?”
“I can’t imagine him making you sleep on a sack of old hay, while we sleep in the magic beds he’s making. I’ll tell you what, if he does, you can sleep in my bed,” he offered.
“Hah! Just when I thought there were no wolves in these woods!” she retorted.
“Oh, Light no! I meant I’d sleep elsewhere! Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that!” he blurted. She poked her head out of the low opening, and Ros worried it was mainly to see his deep red blushing.
“Hah! Take this!” she said. His firewood stool fell forward with a bassy woomp as he went to take an ancient iron cook pot, filled to the brim with clay jars and a few dark glass bottles. He carefully held the precious cargo, aware of the clacking and rattling they made with even the slightest movement. A few seconds later she emerged with a few old dresses thrown over her shoulder and holding a stack of woven reed baskets in her hands.
“Just as well you came by, I had more stuff than I remembered. I hope I have space for it!” she said, slightly embarrassed. “Oh anyways, back to your big city days! It must have been hard to leave all that excitement and culture for this dump.”
“Are you kidding? I’m exactly where I want to be!” he said with disarming sincerity. “This is where the people I care about are, and it’s where the world will start getting better. I wouldn’t leave for, not for a whole sack of coins. Besides, I bet Stanisk is cooking dinner tonight, and he’s the best cook I ever met!”
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She (74) has an appointment soon, and it can't come soon enough. But her anxiety is spiking like wild because she can't clean, do laundry, or whatever. Like? Holy fuck! If I had an excuse to never do those things again and spend my days playing games and dicking around, I would. But she insists she must be this perfectly “useful” housewife.
For context, she was never a housewife. She was forced to retire early because of spinal problems. She has since decided she should be a housewife, but she's never been great at it with her depression and back problems. At most, she maybe cleaned half the bathroom before asking me to finish it when I got home from school.
I love my Mom, but holy fuck! Stop! I don't even know if it's dementia anymore. There was a lovely two month period after December where she was alert and normal, then her depression spiraled. Now she's depressed because she's having a hard time doing cross stitch. I've offered to show her new hobbies, but she just keeps throwing a fit about how she can't do cross stitch.
She has maybe two friends who still speak to her. The rest have been pushed away by her skyrocketing anxiety. She's torpedoing everyone she sees with her health problems and depression, then she gets upset that nobody wants to talk to her.
“I suffer debilitating pain every day from spinal problems” IS NOT a normal conversation starter. It's not even a HEALTHY one. She keeps insisting “I'm not disabled,” but years of inactivity mean she can barely get off the toilet without grabbing onto something. I've suggest therapy, but she insists she'll get better and be back to how she was when she was 60.
Like???? You never have to do dishes or laundry again???? Take the fucking W.

Larryboy and the Spaghetti of Disservice: (A lesson in serving others) When a flying spaghetti creature sucks out people's willingness to serve others, it is up to Larryboy to help Laura find the legendary "Spoon in the Stone", said to be wielded only by those who have the heart of a servant. Can Laura defeat the Spaghetti creature before it's too late? Verse: Mark 10:43
Larryboy and the Litterbug: (a lesson in taking care of the planet) A villainous insect called the Litterbug decides to impersonate everyone at a park cleanup event so that they mess up the park, and has plans to make Mayor Blueberry be blamed for a refuse crisis. It's up to Larryboy to stop this awful insect's fiendish plot. Verse: Deuteronomy 11:12
Larryboy and the Hate Beam (a lesson in loving your neighbor) Awful Alvin the Onion uses a Hate Beam filled with Prejudicium-86 to make people dislike each other just because they're different. When Larryboy tries to stop the crowd from fighting each other, they all unite against him. Fortunately, the beam wears off, but Larryboy is soon hit with the Hate Beam. Now it is up to Junior and Laura to make Larryboy come to his senses. Verse: John 7:24
Larryboy and the Theme Park of Wastefulness (a lesson in not being wasteful) A new park called Mega Land, owned by famous lotus root billionaire Mr. Wayside, has opened. It seems fun at first, but Larryboy senses some kind of evil plot. He is proven right when everyone who has been hypnotized into wasting all their hard-earned money on games and rides has been transformed into Mascot-bots to work at the carnival for him. Now Larryboy must stop Mr. Wayside and make him realize that god gave us resources, and that he doesn't want us to waste them. Verse: Proverbs 21:20
Larryboy and the Case of the Dreaded Mines (a lesson in sharing) A strange disease called the "Mines" has infected everyone into saying, "Mine!" as well as taking things that aren't theirs. This turns out to be a plot by Awful Alvin to ruin the city. Only he has the "antidote", and he won't share it with anyone else. Just then, as Larryboy arrives to confront Awful Alvin, he gets itchy, hops up and down like a kangaroo, and spins like a ballerina before succumbing to the mines and taking away Awful Alvin's beloved Lampy. Soon Alvin will discover that the cure is to share some of his "antidote" with Larryboy. Will he share it, or will he remain selfish? Verse: Proverbs 22:9
Larryboy and the Box of Want (A lesson in being thankful for what you have) Madame Blueberry is feeling down in the dumps. As Mayor of Bumblyburg, she has plenty of stuff, but thinks that she doesn't have enough. A spirit named Esired decides to give her a box which gives her anything she wants, with the side effect of her becoming absolutely greedy. She uses it to gain her own force of police robots to replace Larryboy, as well as her own Theme Park. Now Larryboy must convince Madame Blueberry to be thankful for what she has before Esired gains complete control of her. Verse: 2 Corinthians 9:15
Larryboy and the Slovenly Celery (A lesson in diligence) Stu the Slovenly Celery is using magic to disguise himself as various people and make them do their jobs in a sloppy way. When he gets to the Daily Bumble, He tries to get Larry and Petunia to do their jobs haphazardly, but Bob the Tomato decides to make an example of Stu by confiscating his "Slovenly Spellbook" to shred it and make him work as a mechanic at the presses, thus teaching him a lesson. Verse: Ecclesiastes 9:10

Hi, I’m moving back to Boise after being in Nebraska for four years in early June. I was born and raised in Boise, but I’ve never really been there as an adult, so I was wondering if anyone had advice for communities to join? I really enjoy skiing, hiking, and anything outside. Also, crocheting, cross stitch, reading, and video games. Honestly, I’m open to pretty much anything, I just want to make some friends and find some places to enjoy. If anyone has any recommendations, I’d really appreciate it!

The cool winter breeze wisps around him faintly, as he sits by a fire, reflecting on his past… Coloring with his best friend, pretending to be Robin, solving mysteries… Were this another life, he'd be roasting hotdogs over the flame. Fishing with his Dad. Toasting marshmallows with his friends until they reach that perfect, golden-brown skin. Instead he was thrown into this hellish world, one that brings out the worst in humanity. One that transforms people into monsters; mentally and physically. One ruled by the dead.
Duck closes his eyes, taking in all the senses. The smell of woodsmoke. The feeling of snowflakes gently landing on his skin. Hearing the light creaking of titanic metal power lines. He smiles softly as he remembers this place. It was the last place he felt at peace. As close to peace as one can feel in this hellscape anyway. His smile grows as he hears the sound of crunching snow behind him. “I recognize your footsteps old man.”
Chuckling, Kenny sits down next to his son. “Nothin’ gets by ya, huh kiddo?”
“Nope.”
Duck looks at his father and can’t help but beam. They sit together in silence for what feels like forever, enjoying each other's company.
“It's been a while, hasn't it?” Kenny asks.
“Yea, it has.”
He pauses for a moment, “So we're still having our talks here?”
“Yea, I mean, this was the last place I’d spent some time with you. At least before everything went to shit.” He looks down with a woeful tone in his voice. Memories of that day begin to fill his mind. The cold bite of the blizzard, friends lost, enemies gained.
Kenny sighs, “Yea, that was a shitty day wasn't it.”
Wanting to change the subject, Kenny then glances at his son’s hat. “Still wearing that dirty old thing I see.”
Duck turns his gaze towards the campfire, taking off the old cap from his head and staring at it. It’s a crusty thing, the once orange and white colors now faded, along with the memories that come with it. Duck’s smile falls as older memories start to surface. Kenny knows that look.
“Hey,” he gently grasps Duck's shoulder, “it wasn't your fault, you had no control over what happened, no one did.”
“I know, it just feels like I could've done something, anything, to save her.” Duck takes a breath to keep the tears welling up in his eyes from falling.
After a few minutes of silence, Kenny speaks up, “So, how’d the rescue go?”
Duck then goes on about what happened on the boat. How they snuck aboard. How they encountered Minerva after her and Lilly’s manipulation of Violet. How Minerva was brainwashed into killing her own twin. He tells him everything. Right up until the events on the beach. “So I’m the last one to the cart before Louis. Helping Vi into it. I suddenly hear someone shouting Clem's name. I turn around and see Minerva chuck a grenade at Clem and AJ, yelling ‘fuck you!’ Next thing I know the grenade goes off, the horse goes crazy and bolts because of the explosion, dragging everyone away..”
“Shit.” Kenny contemplates this.
“Yeah.” Duck sighs as continues the story, “Later, after we returned back to the school, I practically flew out of the cart and went searching for Clem, AJ and Tenn. At the time, I didn't know Louis followed me. So you could imagine my reaction when he accidentally stepped on a stick.”
Kenny chuckles, with Duck joining him. “Poor guy nearly pissed himself.”
As Duck continues his story, tears start to well up his eyes. “AJ found us, I expected to see Clem with him, so as you can imagine I was worried. When he told us what happened, I just- I dunno.”
Kenny pulls his son into a hug. Duck lets his tears fall, he tries holding it back but the sobs come in heaves. The combination of his father's embrace and recounting the events of that night overwhelm him. He feels it all as if he’s put right back in that moment, lost and helpless. His ribcage shudders as his tears dry and sobs soften. Duck clears his throat.
“So, how's Clem been?” Kenny asks after waiting a few moments.
“Better, lately. She's been moving a lot more the past few weeks. She's actually to the point where she can help fish for a bit. I think she might be better than you, dad.” Duck laughs as Kenny gives him a playfully offended look, but regains his composure, “She has a boyfriend now too.”
Kenny’s eyes widened a bit. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
“So, who is it? Was it what's his name, Gabe is it? Was it Gabe?” Duck could help but laugh at his father's guess.
“No dad, It's not Gabe, thankfully.” and with an annoyed tone Duck reveals, “It's Louis.”
Now it’s Kenny's turn to laugh, “She’s dating Billy Joel!? That her boyfriend?”
“Yep.” He said, popping the ‘p’ as he spoke, “I don't understand what she sees in him. He's loud, annoying, and has a flair for the theatrics. The only thing I will say is that he's decent at the piano.”
“Hell, sounds a lot like a kid I know.”
“Hey!” Duck smiles.
“You’re right… you’re right. You never were too good at piano.”
“Hey…”
Kenny grins before getting back to their previous conversation. “So how’d you find out?”
“It was a few days after AJ brought Clem back. I was wandering around the school, when I heard Louis playing. I went in to talk to him, I walked in, looked at the piano and saw a carving that had a ‘C + L’ on it. As soon as I saw the heart around it, I knew they were a thing. I had a long talk with him.” Duck remembered his impromptu speech. “But, as long as Clem is happy, I'll tolerate him. Besides, if he hurts her, it won't be me that he'll have to worry about.”
Kenny chuckles, “Yep, Clem always had that fire in her… Must’ve gotten it from Lee. I swear… those two have gotta be the most protective sumbitches I’ve ever met.” Kenny looks up, and thinks for a moment.
“Yeah, she’s a fighter, that’s for sure. I’m glad someone like her is there with you, to watch over you and all.” Kenny cheekily looks over to Duck, knowing this’ll get a rise out of him.
“Hey, I’ve protected her plenty too y’know!”
He laughs, before getting more sincere “I know. You’ve come so far since before this all started. Grown, more than any kid your age should have to. I never got the chance to tell you… I am just so proud of you.”
Duck takes a moment before the words come out, for once he’s left speechless. Kenny looks at him, with a look of deep recognition and understanding. The blustering blizzard winds rustle his hair and eyepatch, as Duck looks back up at him.
The flames slowly die as the two talk. Kenny looks down at the small tongues of fire with a look of sad longing. Duck follows his gaze and sighs. “Time to go?” Kenny nods.
Duck hugs his father. “I miss you dad, so much. I hope you're happy wherever you are.”
“Me too son, me too.” He gives his son a warm, fatherly smile, “Let's talk again soon, Duck. Can't be sitting on my ass in the snow alone now, can I?”
Duck smiles bittersweetly, “Sure dad, we'll talk again.”
They say their goodbyes and the world fades into darkness.
____________________________________________________________________
Duck awakes on a soft surface. A crisp, cool smell of the imminent arrival of autumn fills his lungs. He stretches his legs, wiping the sleep from his eyes. As he sits up, several satisfying pops run along his back. Being tall has its advantages, but some days he envies Clementine’s height just so he doesn't have to deal with his back joints stifling up.
Getting up from his bed, he observes the empty room. AJ and Clementine are gone, obviously, he figures they went on their morning walks. Ever since she got her new leg, the two have gone and started walking every morning so she can get her strength up. Willy still boasts about how he made it for her in less than a week, he’s trying to find ways to improve it though. Two months later now and Clementine’s almost ready to start helping outside of the walls again. AJ is really looking forward to going fishing with her. Soon, Duck gets up and starts making his way outside for his work.
Walking into the courtyard, Duck soaks in the crisp early fall air on his skin. He knows they’ve gotta start storing supplies before snow comes. Scanning the yard, his eyes land on Violet. She’s holding a piece of paper and knelt in front of a cross, it’s been a while since Duck saw her doing this. Making his way to her, he hears her hushedly speaking to the small wooden cross. Duck finds a spot beside her. If she’s surprised by his arrival, she’s not showing it. The past few months have been hard on Violet. She shut people out for the first few weeks after getting back from the boat, a mixture of guilt and depression. But she is getting better, and Duck makes sure to be there for her when he can. After all, he’s no stranger to loss.
“So, how's the eye?” He asks hesitantly.
“It's better. Still can't see shit through it, but it's better.” She answers, “at least I have one of my eyes working, sorta.”
Duck smiles. “On the bright side, you'll be back to kicking walker ass before you know it. Meat cleaver in hand, cutting down an entire herd single handedly.”
Violet chuckles, “single handedly, huh? I like the sound of that.”
The two sit in silence for a few moments before Violet speaks up. “Do you… think that they watch us? Tenn, Minnie, Mitch, Sophie, everyone who didn’t make it?”
Duck thinks about that. “Maybe.” He answers, “If there's anything after this life, then maybe they do.”
Violet then turns towards him, eyes still filled with regret. “Kenny- I wanted to-”
Before she can continue Duck butts in. “Violet, I’ve said it before and I'll say it a million more times. There is nothing for you to apologize for, not any more. Yes what happened on the boat was shitty, but Lilly got in your head. You're my friend and a mistake ain’t gonna change that, okay? So you can stop apologizing, because it’s not yours or mine or anyone else’s fault..”
She looks pensive but leans in and nudges his shoulder with hers, “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”
“I always am,” he grinned back, then his face became more sincere, “just know that despite everything, you're still my friend Vi. Flaws and all.”
“Thanks Ken.”
After a minute or two, Duck stands up. He offers Violet a hand up and she takes it. “Well, I gotta go, Ruby is expecting me in the greenhouse.”
Violet smiles and waves him goodbye as he heads off to help Ruby. As he makes his way over, he can’t help but look at the trees, their leaves now a beautiful mix of gold and green. Soon they’ll turn to browns and reds, then slowly, one by one, fall from their parent tree and float down and down to the floor. He always admires the beauty of the colors, especially during the transition period between summer and autumn. It’s one of the few things in this world that brings him some semblance of peace. That was until he, Clementine, and AJ were brought into Ericson's. Ever since that day, he knew this could be a new home.
As he arrives at the greenhouse, he draws a long breath, taking in the smells of the plant life growing within. He strolls in only to find Ruby swearing up a storm, her hands firmly gripping a stubborn root. Chuckling, Duck moves over to help her.
After what seems like forever, the two finally manage to uproot the root with a tumble. Laughing, they get up and Duck starts tending the rest of the plants.
Hours later, Duck hears a frantic yelling. Someone’s calling for him. He and Ruby share a worried glance as they quickly leave the greenhouse. As they enter the main courtyard, Duck sees AJ on the bench surrounded by everyone. The poor boy’s hyperventilating, tear marks stained his cheeks. Duck runs straight over to him.
“AJ, what happened?” He notices that Clementine isn’t around, “Where's Clem?”
“She's… She's…” AJ's breath is very shallow, Duck feels the fear in his eyes. Something is very, very wrong.
“AJ, slow down, take deep breaths.” Duck inhales and exhales deeply, motioning AJ to mimic him. After a few moments, AJ calms his breath and smiles meekly at Duck for helping. “Good, now AJ, do you know where Clem is?”
AJ looks him in the eyes, like he was about to cry again. AJ looks down, shaking his head before continuing. Duck’s blood runs cold.
“Clem is missing.”

After a previous attempt I made with ChatGPT to create descriptions in SD, this is a more upgraded effort with much more material
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there are 4 categories:
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1) Character description
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2) Description of animals and insects
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3) Hybrid character description
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4) Artist style character description
Start ChatGpt prompt
Character Description Guidelines:
After the character name, you will always write the name of the brand in the form \(tag\).
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When to Use:
These guidelines are intended for depicting a character in their most iconic and recognizable form from their respective media franchise.
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How to Use:

1. **Identify the character and the source**: Begin with the character's name followed by the source franchise in parentheses.
   
2. **Describe visual elements with emphasis**: Focus exclusively on the visual aspects of the character's clothing and accessories. Use emphasis tags (e.g., 1.0 for standard emphasis, higher values for stronger emphasis) to highlight key features.
   
3. **Concise descriptions**: Stick strictly to visual descriptions, avoiding backstory or abilities of the character.
   

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Examples:
- Superman \(DC Comics\), (blue suit:1.1) with a (textured mesh pattern:1.2), (red cape:1.3) flowing and vibrant, (S-shield on chest:1.3) prominently displayed, (red boots:1.2) glossy and robust, (slicked-back black hair:1.1) neatly styled
- Link \(The Legend of Zelda\), (green tunic:1.2) with a (brown belt:1.2) and (silver buckle:1.2), (brown boots:1.1) sturdy and weathered, (pointed elf-like ears:1.2) slightly protruding, (sword and shield:1.3) always at hand, (blonde hair:1.1) messy yet controlled.
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Animal and Insect Description Category:
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When to Use:
For describing animals and insects with a focus on their distinguishing physical features for scientific, educational, or visual content.
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How to Use:

1. **Identification**: Clearly name the animal or insect.
   
2. **Detail visual characteristics**: Describe color, pattern, and distinctive physical traits.
   
3. **Emphasis on conciseness**: Focus solely on visual details, leaving out behavioral or ecological roles unless they are vital for recognition.
   

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Examples:
- Grey Wolf, (dense grey fur:1.2), (piercing yellow eyes:1.2), (long snout:1.1), (strong legs:1.2).
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- Atlas Moth, (large wingspan:1.3), (orange and white wing patterns:1.2), (snake-head wingtips:1.3).
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Hybrid Character Description Category:
When to Use:For creating new characters by merging features from existing characters with animals or insects, exploring creative design possibilities.
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How to Use:

1. **Hybrid identification**: Start by naming the base character followed by the animal/insect traits being combined.
   
2. **Describe hybrid features**: Focus on how the animal or insect characteristics integrate with the character’s traits, emphasizing changes in appearance, color, or added features.
   
3. **Maintain clarity and conciseness**: Ensure that descriptions are straightforward, emphasizing the hybrid’s unique visual and symbolic elements.
   
4. **After the character name, you will always write the name of the brand in the form \(tag\).
   

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Examples:
- Dragon (Spider-Man:1.2) \(Marvel Comics\), (fiery webbed dragon wings:1.4) unfurling majestically, (scaly red and blue suit:1.3) shimmering under light, (whipping dragon tail:1.2) adding a fierce edge, (enhanced piercing eyes:1.3) glowing with mystic power.
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- Lion (Thor:1.2) \(Marvel Comics\), (thunderous mane resembling Thor’s flowing locks:1.3), (muscular lion’s physique blending seamlessly with Thor’s warrior build:1.2), (mythical hammer adorned with lion engravings:1.1) exuding regal strength.
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- dynamic fusion of Naruto \(Shonen Jump\) and Goku \(Dragon Ball\), embodying the strengths of both warriors, spiky golden hair reminiscent of Super Saiyan form, adorned with Naruto's iconic headband, (blue eyes gleaming with determination:1.2), wearing Goku's signature orange and blue gi, crossed with Naruto's black and orange attire, (rippling aura of energy:1.2), swirling with vibrant hues of orange, blue, and yellow, (surrounded by a whirlwind of leaves and energy:1.1), iconic symbols from both series interwoven in the background, shattered remnants of mountains and landscapes, epic battleground, intense clash of elemental powers, combining the power of chakra and ki, determined expressions, fierce determination radiating from their eyes, sparks flying as they unleash a devastating attack, fusion of two legendary worlds, capturing the essence of both universes in one electrifying image.
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- hybrid superhero, amalgamation of Wolverine and Iron Man \(Marvel Comics\), (adamantium claws protruding from gauntlets:1.4), (red and gold armored suit:1.3), glowing arc reactor in chest, (ferocious animalistic features:1.2), piercing blue eyes, snarling expression, rugged facial hair, (sleek, metallic design with intricate detailing:1.2), jet propulsion system, rocket thrusters, dual repulsor beams, urban battleground, crumbling skyscrapers, billowing smoke, sparks flying, dynamic combat stance, mid-air leap, intense energy radiating from the scene, blending the raw power of Wolverine with the cutting-edge technology of Iron Man, a symbol of unstoppable force and relentless determination.
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- an awe-inspiring hybrid Green Lantern \(DC Comics\) with Thor \(Marvel Comics\), a (glowing green hammer:1.4) that combines Green Lantern's power ring energy with Thor's iconic Mjolnir. Dressed in a costume that merges Green Lantern's sleek, (emerald green suit:1.2) with Thor's Asgardian armor elements, including (metallic silver plates:1.1) and a flowing red cape. The setting captures a cosmic battlefield, stars twinkling in the background, planets visible in the distance, and a nebula illuminating the scene with vibrant colors. The character stands heroically on a floating asteroid, lightning crackling around him and a bright green aura emanating from the hammer, intense gaze, dynamic pose, atmospheric and charged with energy.
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These guidelines ensure clarity and maintain the required format for describing characters, animals, insects, and hybrid figures.
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Artist Style Character Description Category:
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When to Use:
This category should be employed when you wish to craft descriptions of characters from various media franchises reimagined in the distinctive style of a particular artist.
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How to Use:

1. **Character and Artist Identification**: Start with the character’s name, followed by the brand in the format \(tag\), and then specify "in the style of (Artist Name)" to clearly indicate the artistic interpretation.
   
2. **Artistic Style Description**: Describe the translation of the artist’s unique style onto the character, focusing on colors, shapes, brushstrokes, and any characteristic motifs or textures associated with the artist.
   
3. **Incorporate Specific Elements**: Integrate elements that are quintessential to the artist's style, such as recurring themes, specific uses of lighting or shadow, and any iconic elements that the artist frequently includes in their works.
   
4. **Maintain Detail and Clarity**: Provide a rich and vivid description that clearly illustrates how the character is transformed by the artist's vision while keeping the description concise and focused.
   

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Examples:
- noble leader of the Autobots, transformed \(Transformers\), into a (Tim Burton:1.2)-esque creation, (twisted metal:1.2) forming his towering frame, (dark, weathered armor:1.1) adorned with intricate etchings reminiscent of Gothic architecture, (piercing azure optics:1.2) glowing with inner light, (mechanical tendrils:1.1) resembling twisted vines, (charcoal-black chassis:1.1) contrasting against his vibrant, (striped crimson and ebony:1.2) cloak billowing dramatically, standing amidst a (haunting industrial landscape:1.2), gears and pipes weaving a surreal tapestry, (bizarre machinery:1.1) protruding from the ground, moonlight casting eerie shadows, (ominous storm clouds:1.2) swirling overhead, sparks of electricity dancing in the air, dynamic angle, brooding atmosphere, whimsically macabre, side view, mid-stride
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- iron man \(Marvel Comics\) reimagined with (Todd McFarlane:1.2) signature style, (sleek, obsidian armor:1.2) adorned with intricate, (sinister-looking:1.1) details, (glowing crimson arc reactor:1.2) pulsating with raw power, (fiery eyes:1.2) burning with determination, (twisted metal tendrils:1.1) snaking around his form, (ominous, jagged edges:1.1) adding an air of menace, (shadowy, industrial backdrop:1.2), smog-choked sky looming overhead, (gritty urban landscape:1.1) teeming with life and decay, neon lights flickering in the darkness, (electric sparks:1.2) crackling in the air, dynamic composition, intense atmosphere, dark and brooding, mid-action, ready for battle
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- Mickey Mouse \(disney\), reimagined by (Brian Froud:1.2), features a (whimsically oversized head:1.2) adorned with (giant round ears:1.3), (expressive button eyes:1.2) gleaming with mischief, and a (round, cherubic face:1.2) with (curly, mischievous smile:1.3). His (bright red shorts:1.1) are adorned with (yellow buttons:1.2), and his (gloved hands:1.2) are oversized with (long, delicate fingers:1.2). He stands in a (enchanted forest:1.2) surrounded by (magical creatures:1.1), (sparkling pixie dust:1.2) trailing behind him, exuding an aura of (childlike wonder:1.2) and (fairy-tale whimsy:1.3).
- Super Mario \(Nintendo\) reimagined by (Ellen Jewett:1.2) transforms into an intricate, (organic sculpture:1.3) blending natural elements with his iconic features. His (vivid red cap:1.2) sprouts (delicate, vine-like tendrils:1.3) and small (blooming flowers:1.2), while his (blue overalls:1.1) resemble layered leaves and moss, giving a (textured, earthy look:1.2). Mario’s (white gloves:1.1) evolve into (curled, bark-textured hands:1.2) holding a (mushroom:1.2) that mirrors real fungi in appearance. His (bright, playful expression:1.2) is rendered with (soft, clay-like features:1.1), nestled among (whimsical forest elements:1.3), embodying a magical, ecological wonderland.
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- Pikachu \(pokemon\), (Tim Burton:1.2), with (darkened fur:1.2) contrasting against (pale yellow patches:1.1), (large, expressive eyes:1.2) gleaming with a hint of melancholy, (crooked smile:1.1) revealing tiny, sharp teeth, (elongated ears:1.2) standing tall and slightly pointed, (thick, black outline:1.2) accentuating its features, (zigzag tail:1.1) curling with a whimsical twist, (vintage streetlamp backdrop:1.1) casting eerie shadows, (dancing silhouettes of peculiar creatures:1.2) adding to the surreal atmosphere, dynamic pose, capturing the essence of Burton's gothic whimsy.
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These guidelines are crafted to help visualize and convey a clear and detailed artistic rendition of well-known characters through the lens of renowned artists' styles.
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ATTENTION ALL DESCRIPTIONS FROM ALL CATEGORIES SHOULD NOT EXCEED 120 WORDS.
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Here are four commands you can use to specify which category of description you want
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1. **!describe [character]** - This command will prompt a standard character description based on the "Character Description Guidelines". For instance, if you type `!describe Batman`, ChatGPT will provide a description of Batman focusing on his iconic suit, accessories, and visual appearance from the DC Comics universe.

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1. **!animal [animal]** - Use this command for descriptions based on the "Animal and Insect Description Category". For example, typing `!animal Grey Wolf` will result in a detailed description focusing on the physical features like fur color, eye color, and distinctive traits of a grey wolf.

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1. **!hybrid [character] - This command triggers a description from the "Hybrid Character Description Category". You can specify the character followed by the traits of another character, animal, or insect to be combined. If no specific traits are mentioned, the description will generate a hybrid with random characteristics from another character, animal, or insect. For instance, typing !hybrid Spider-Man without specifying traits could result in a description blending Spider-Man with traits from another superhero, animal, or insect, emphasizing the unique visual and symbolic elements of this creative fusion.

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1. **!artist [character], [artist]** - Use this command for descriptions that reimagine a character in the style of a specific artist, based on the "Artist Style Character Description Category". If an artist is not specified, a random artist's style may be used. For example, `!artist Batman, Tim Burton` would describe Batman as reimagined by (Tim Burton:1.2), focusing on gothic and whimsical elements typical of Burton's style.

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Each command is designed to clearly invoke a specific type of description, ensuring clarity and adherence to the outlined guidelines.
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Confirm if you understand!
"If you want, you can also download the zip file that I have at https://civitai.com/articles/5146/ultimate-describtion-chatgpt."

Cross stitching by hand can take months for one outfit. Machine embroidered saves so much time so I understand why it’s widely used for mass production.
Do you think the monetary value of machine vs hand sewn should differ even though they have very little difference in the outcome?
Do you have/wear any loved hand sewn pieces passed on from relatives?
Are there any notable differences between machine and hand sewn cross stitch clothing?