#01. SPACE SMELLS LIKE FIREWORKS.

[stardestined]

@irxnlegacy​.   ✦

     sam isn’t really very smart. he doesn’t feel very smart, anyway. he’s never been the one for books and brains, preferring to solve problems with his fists instead. but being on a team chock-full of smarty-pants geniuses gives him a different perspective at the whole intelligence thing, and quite frankly, makes him pretty jealous.

     he normally leaves riri on her own when she’s tinkering around with stuff (namely because she’s so focused that it’s like talking to a brick wall whenever he tries, anyway), but he’s curious today. and bored. and boredom and curiosity means sam sitting beside riri’s creeper seat with a bag of chips between his crossed legs, chomping away, trying to peer under the mess of pipes and electrical wiring that she’s stitching together.

      ❝  ---is this supposed to be something impressive when you’re finished?  ❞

[orchardisland]

━━       EVENT 01 : PART 1

You step outside, salty air from the sea sticking to your tongue. It is a surprising reprieve from your day indoors. You take one more step further; stretching out to loosen your stiffened limbs. When you move to hold out your arms, you are hit with a force that encompasses your forearm. A piece of paper sticks to your skin. Your fingers pry it from the spot, holding it up to inspect it carefully.

A pair of jovial cartoon squids look up at you expectantly, colorful words printed beneath them. It seems to be an announcement for this year’s Seaside Jubilee, something Gwasuwon keeps in tradition every late summer. The bottom half of the flyer is torn, omitting something but you cannot be too sure as to what. You shrug, deciding to remember the details but the moment you move to shove the paper into your pocket, the wind rips it from your hands ━━ on to the next target, it seems.

When you arrive at the festival on the day of, you are met with more smiling faces than you have seen in quite some time. It is another breath of fresh air, just like the one you took some days before. Though, you cannot help but feel something is...off about the atmosphere ━━ even with all the festivities and the smell of good food enveloping you.  

" Today, we humbly accept the gifts long bestowed onto us by Sibipaldaewang. The offering of his children to feed our own! " A voice echoes through the space on land before the harbor. A group of shaman wearing their ceremonial dress. One of the women cries out in the form of song, retelling the story of the colossal squid deity that is said to uphold this very island. You can see some of the islanders emerging from the beach, beyond them, some have their hands dipped into a shallow outcropping where many small squid have even corralled. A child holds one above his head, gleefully giggling to his father while he shows off his prize. Not too far from them, a men stand before a drying rack, displaying the practice of the island's famous dried squid treats.

The small smile that creeps on your face is soon gone. You swear you can feel it ━━ the ground shaking beneath your feet ━━ but no one else around you seems to panic. Maybe it is it just your imagination.

OOC  //  Welcome to our first opening event! This will seem mundane at first but it will soon give way to something that will kick off the true events in store for the island’s fate. After this post a plot drop/encounter will be presented in context of the event. More details will be found within it when the time comes.

━━    EVENT ACTIVITIES & HISTORY

Initially, the event is presented as a hands-on festival. You can catch squids with bare hands, see the course of squids drying and even taste delicious squid dishes. The first festival was held in August, 1907, meant as a celebration of sea surrounding the island and reverence of the deity said to be quite literally holding up the island. It is an event enjoyed by both local residents and tourists, meant to bring them together for a fun celebration and opportunity to meet. When the activities during the day come to a close, there are still things going on at night. Musicians from the area and other residents with talents put on performances and sing songs. Then, there is also a display of fireworks over the harbor. Typically, this festival takes place for two days right before chuseok to usher in a time of family reunion and relaxation.

━━    INTERACTIONS

IC, this event will take place on 9/8 to 9/9 but can be written about from 9/4 to 9/25. 

Your muse has the choice to attend or not attend either day, that will be up to you entirely! However, whether or not this will benefit or hinder your muse in the future will be left to fate.

If you decide to thread anything, tag all posts with gsw:seaside & gsw:event.

Something dark is brewing here. While things seem rather mundane and celebratory, nothing is truly as it seems. It never is on Gwasuwon.

Stay tuned for a second part that will be posted within the next few days as our first  interactable encounter!

[dylanhawth]

[ LORENZO ZURZOLO, CISMAN, HE/HIM ] shh ! DYLAN HAWTHORNE, the TWENTY year old SECOND year ANTHROPOLOGY major from HARTFORD, CT is known as a TOURMALINE  around here. HE was invited to join because HE PUBLISHED A COLLECTION OF SHORT STORIES ANONYMOUSLY THAT GARNERED A BIT OF FOLLOWING AND RECENTLY STEPPED FORWARD AS THE AUTHOR, and now, they’re here to stay. HE reminds me of THE NERVOUSNESS OF A FIRST KISS, LEAVING SECRET MESSAGES IN LIBRARY BOOKS, DRIVING AIMLESSLY WITH THE WINDOWS ROLLED DOWN ON A WARM SUMMER NIGHT WHILE THE RADIO HUMS A PLAYLIST CURATED FOR YOU BY YOUR BEST FRIEND.

[ big ass bio ] | [ connections ] | [ pinterest ] | [ playlist ] 

ooc. 

omfg hello. i can’t tell you how excited and happy i am to be here. i was too nervous to apply for the last three months but i decided to stop being a Coward and just try. im SO happy to be here, it’s the highlight of my week tbh lmao. anyway i am mar, she/her, 24, est. i live in nyc and all i do is visit the planetarium and cry. i’m so fucking bad at these so im just gonna LIST things and hope you get the vibe. i am a pisces sun, scorpio moon. i prob have a napoleon complex a little bit lmao. my favorite social media site is goodreads and i get rlly sad when my friends rate books i love poorly dfljskdfs. i can touch my tongue to my nose. i eat a lot of persimmons. i have a favorite rock at my local park that i visit a lot. idk dfskjls. i’m v friendly tho so pls hmu. i send a lot of memes, and love making meme edits for the chars so im rlly sorry in advance if you guys hate that. 

01.      basics.

NAME.   dylan h. hawthorne. ALIASES. dyl, hawth.   AGE.  twenty. HOMETOWN. hartford, ct. GENDER.  cismale. PRONOUNS.   he/him.

 02.      appearance.

EYES.   green. HAIR.   brown. HEIGHT.   6”0 BUILD.   lean. BIRTHMARKS   /   BURNS   /   SCARS.   a birthmark the shape of australia on his left thigh. TATTOOS.   n/a. PIERCINGS.   n/a.

03.      habits.

ALCOHOL   ?  socially. SMOKING   ?  socially. HABITS.  fidgets in chairs. cracks knuckles and back often. nervous laughter. chewing on pencils. talking to his plants. dogearing books. staring off into space and applying chapstick for a prolonged period of time. getting overly competitive about boardgames. stress cleaning. carries a book in his bag always. night owl. incredibly impatient when the internet is slow. creature of habit when it comes to menus, orders the same shit over and over again. LIKES.   feeding the ducks at the local pond. the smell of the earth after a rainstorm. the way music sounds coming from another room. kissing. watering his plants. inside jokes. making wishes in fountains. discussing a recently finished book with someone. making handmade cards for friends on their birthday. fireworks. coming of age films. packages wrapped in twine. jogs. the way friday nights feels when you’re with someone you love. the feeling you get leaving the movie theatre. DISLIKES.   being late. having too many coins on him. coffee with no sugar. when people speak loudly in the library. doing laundry. handshakes with too much squeeze. receiving voicemails. untidiness. golf. charles dickens. lectures with no student input. hot weather. confrontation. being caught in a lie. losing his umbrella. people who cheat during games. rainboots. bad table manners. humidity.

04.      personality.

MYERS-BRIGGS.   infp. ENNEAGRAM. the helper. ZODIAC.   pisces. TEMPERAMENT.   melancholic. ALIGNMENT.   neutral good. ARCHETYPE.   the lover. POSITIVE.   empathetic. sensitive. intelligent. charismatic. easygoing. gentle. loyal. passionate. romantic. humble. supportive. gregarious. playful. diligent. NEGATIVE.   deceitful. gullible. finicky. naive. obsessive. perfectionistic. secretive. timid. possessive. weak-willed. indecisive. cynical. indulgent. summary: basically, dylan is a love starved, people pleasing nervous wreck. big ass nerd who wants to be everyones friend, wants to be liked SO BAD. very charming and charismatic, comes off as fairly confident and comfortable at first. is able to make everyone feel loved and like they’re the most important person in the world, however lacks a backbone. is both romeo and juliet, and just as dumb as both of them too. 

05.      hc’s.

dylan was a football player in high school, believe it or not. he was rather good at it too, which is sort of jarring considering his pacifistic nature. however, he DID land on someone incorrectly at some point during his senior year, and broke their wrist. he quickly abandoned the sport altogether because of how guilty he felt. 

touched on this briefly but dylan really… loves indiana jones lmao. like, it’s quite ironic given his absolutely inability to be a badass, and lack of suaveness. however, he admires indy’s lust for adventure. he also was obsessed with the mummy as a kid. both of these were incredible sources in his very irrational decision to sudden anthropology. however, he does really love and admire anthropology. his favorite ethnography is the spirit catches you and you fall down, which makes him cry like a little bitch every time he even thinks about it. 

he’s the second oldest, but he is also baby. he is SUCH a big momma’s boy. he misses his mom so much. he writes to her often, and of course calls her even more. despite being six-foot tall, he still goes home and rests his head on his mother's lap, falls asleep as she runs her fingers through his hair. he often tries to find native english plants and flowers to press, and mail back to his mother in the form of bookmarks. has nEVER STEPPED ON A CRACK IN HIS LIFE, BABY.

just leaves a shit ton of notes in books in the library. some are riddles, some are poetry, some are commentary on the book, some are doodles. just depends on how he’s feeling for that book. he doesn’t tell anyone he does it, but he’s waiting for someone to connect the dots with his handwriting and writing style. 

speaking of plants, his room is basically a big greenhouse. he has so many plants, and takes serious care of them all. he has a little humidifier in his space for them, marks down when he waters what plants, and has a label maker to label them all with a name. they are all named after shakespeare characters. 

dyl is a doodler, so much so that he contributes to the school paper as a cartoonist. his cartoons are usually just random thoughts he has, but sometimes they get political and he works marxism into them. (this man loves marx.) 

[ suicide implied tw, death mention tw ] he dresses like a victorian boy in love with his roommate who has recently died of scarlet fever and in his mourning, plans to disappear in the bog by the school by mysterious circumstances and become a ghost that haunts the college with his lover. like lots of gray and slacks and ties ands ties and sweaters, lol. also he has glasses that he never wears because he can never find them! catch him squinting in your classroom because he can’t see SHIT. too shy to ask you for your notes though, doesn’t wanna inconvenience you! but when he’s Out on the Town®, he fucking wears like, tacky patterned shirts that are expensive but ugly. someone please help him. 

all about fun socks! he loves owning socks that have dumb little images on them. if you get him a pair of fun socks, he’d absolutely go nuts. his entire week: made. 

he leaves his roommate limericks when he senses they are sad. tapes em to the bathroom mirror or leaves them in the fridge. also loves buying people presents. tiny ones. like haunted looking things from second hand stores, or your favorite chocolate. also is the sort of friend that has EVERYTHING in his bag, in case someone cuts themselves or has a headache. can be a bit of a mom himself. it’s the little things, y’know? 

prob still in his emo phase. listens to way too mcr to not be lmao.

eco-friendly king, will not stand for you not recycling. 

if you will allow him, he will attempt to have a secret handshake with you. he’s a child. is dying for someone to memorize the parent trap handshake and indulge him. 

cannot sit still in a chair. fidgets an excessive amount, the bobbing of his knee and the squirming around. it just never ends. 

bi. that’s the hc.

he’s a little bit in love with everyone he meets if you couldn’t tell, and it’s fucking disastrous. 

he is based loosely off: patroclus ( the song of achilles ), ponyboy curtis ( the outsiders ), laurie laurence ( little women ), eduardo saverin ( the social network ), remus lupin ( hp ), oliver marks ( if we were villains. ) 

( @opalsmedia​ )

[make-it-mavis]

Homesick (Entry #14)

(cw: drug withdrawal, vomiting) <-Previous ----------

01/02/88  1:34 PM

Hey.

Can’t believe I’m still going to all the effort of writing this dramatic, emotional crap down while you’re not even here to be uncomfortable about it with me. This is so unnatural. But I keep coming back to it, so…

Showering felt good. I wasn’t too happy about smelling like Fix-it’s bath products, but clearing away the grime was therapeutic in its own small way, especially since my skin was smooth and intact again. No dirt, no blood, no wounds, no outward evidence that anything had happened to me at all. 

The feeling of cleanliness was tragically short-lived, however. I’d barely finished drying off before my skin clammed up and my body felt wrapped up in a hot, wet blanket. Boost withdrawal had snuck up on me, hiding behind other, much bigger stressors. Fix-it would soon regret lending me his disturbingly comfortable, silky, immaculately free-of-his-cousin’s-sweat pajamas.

I was in for a long night.

When I left the bathroom, I found Fix-it sitting on the couch next to a folded-up blanket and some pillows, looking thoughtful or troubled or something inexplicably annoying. He straightened up the second he saw me, and gave a wobbly sort of smile. “Did it do ya good to get clean?” he asked, painfully awkwardly.

I just grimaced, waist-deep in withdrawal, not loving the irony in his question.

I sat next to him, leaned my head back, and put a cold, wet hand towel that I’d nicked from the bathroom over my face. It relaxed me a bit, but relaxing wasn’t much of an improvement. My idle mind had no safe path to wander, no distraction other than my climbing fever. So I resorted to focusing on that, and let myself sink like a rock into that post-Boost depression. I needed a hit so badly. I just imagined that sweet electric rush dissolving the withdrawal, blowing away the fog over my senses, charging me back up with fierce courage so I could get back out there and face the arcade. Thinking about a remedy only made me feel sicker, but I didn’t care. More sickness meant more distractions from… other things. 

I was in for a really long night.

It wasn’t until Fix-it said “Mavy..?” that I realized he had been talking. Silently asking the Devs why he was still trying to have a conversation with me, I replied with a grunt.

Assumedly repeating himself, he said carefully, “I just wanted to say thank you… You know, for… trusting me.”

I figured he was kind of putting words in my mouth, but whatever. I was willingly staying in his home, so he wasn’t completely wrong. But I knew he really meant trusting him with… well, everything written on my body. To that, I did not know what to say. I lifted the corner of the cloth on my face to peer at him. He was giving me those earnest eyes again, the ones that his binary may as well tumble out of. I could almost feel the bags under my eyes getting heavier. It felt like anything I could have said would only have made me worse off.

After a sufficiently weird pause, I figured out what to say.

“Do you have a bucket?”

“...Beg pardon?”

“So I don’t puke on your floor.”

“Oh!”

He sprung up like a popcorn kernel, disappeared for a second, and returned with a gross-looking utility bucket, probably the only dirty thing I’d seen in his apartment thus far. It had definitely been used for paint at some point, of all things. Then, seemingly trying to top his personal best record for stupid questions, he asked if I was nauseous. I didn’t dignify it with a response. After that, he just insisted on brewing me some tea that I can’t remember the name of, because it would, as he put it, soothe my “tummy” and help me sleep.

I told him that if he said “tummy” again, I might miss the bucket.

While the tea steeped, we had some minor disagreements about the sleeping arrangement. He wanted to take the couch while I slept in his bed, but I was having none of that. The final verdict was that he’d take the bed, I’d take the couch, and if I somehow needed something that I couldn’t get myself, I could wake him up.

The tea was counterproductive. When I went to drink it, the mug didn’t even make it to my lips. I took one whiff of the scent -- not a bad one, but a scent nonetheless -- and my stomach lurched. I retched into the bucket not a moment later. Fix-it sprung up and practically started whining like an anxious dog. At the same time, though, he looked like he was fighting the urge to sympathy vomit. We had agreed on lights out just a moment ago, but he insisted that he must stay up with me for just a little while longer.

I groaned into the bucket in my lap, “To do what, read me a bedtime story?”

“...Well--”

“No.”

He gave up after that. At long last, he turned in for the night. He got me a glass of water, turned off the lights, and pretended to close the door behind him when he went into his room -- he left it cracked, for some reason I’d no doubt disagree with.

Once the lights were off, it really stood out to me just how wrong it felt spending the night inside Niceland again, after all these years. It was obscenely quiet, the only thing close to white noise being Wreck-it’s distant snoring. The windows didn’t need any blackout shutters like they would in your game, what with our game’s permanent night setting, but the cold, dim light from the cabinet’s screen around the corner was just enough to cast faint window-shaped squares on the floor. For most, it all probably would have been ideal for sleeping. But for me, it was too rigid. Too manufactured, sterile, too clean-cut. I needed mess. I needed a raw, wild, pass-out-drunk mess. Old pilled blankets, misshapen cushions, stained pillows, creaky springs in a mattress way too small for two sprites. If nothing else, I needed the stars. But you can’t see them from the windows of Niceland.

I thought of the places I wished I could be, threw up again, and began my really, really long night.

Most of the night felt like some kind of time loop, just the same awful crap for Devs know how many hours. Throwing up, washing out the bucket, sipping water, refilling water, refreshing the cold towel, burning up, shivering, throwing the blanket, bundling up in the blanket, throwing up again. Startling flashes of memory still kept me from drifting off, but it wasn’t just the fireworks anymore. There was also barking. There was that freak’s grating, screeching abuse. There was the garbled, distorted sound of metal splitting. Worst of all, the feeling of fading into sleep almost felt like fading into near-death again, kicking up that terrified, tooth-and-claw refusal to die. In those cases, I’d wake up screaming.

Freaked the hell out of Fix-it every time.

Something else happened that night. I have no idea what time it was. There was nothing left in me to throw up anymore. My teeth were chattering, but my sweat had still soaked well into the couch. I’d tossed away the warm and damp pillows in favor of resting my burning cheek against the cool cushion beneath. I was just trying desperately to creep past the obstacles between me and anything resembling rest. That’s when things got a little… let’s say “creative.”

I tried to fool myself into thinking I was somewhere more conducive to a good night’s sleep, and it worked. If I really thought about it, I could smell chips, popcorn, and Burger Time grease in the cushion under my head. I could make the upholstery feel frayed and slack. In my feverish delirium, I could even change the room around me. I could picture the walls pulled closer, and an impressive amount of junk for such a small space, all of which I knew by heart. There would be a stereo across from me, a kitchen counter down past my feet, half-full soda cans close to my head, empty six-pack rings hanging on the door handle, a jumpsuit thrown over the corner of the couch, and above me, a rack of meticulously polished trophies. As long as I kept my eyes closed, I was in your trailer. 

For those fleeting moments, everything felt normal again. It was as if nothing ever changed.

I heard your bed creak, and your footsteps shortly after. You paused close to me for a second before continuing into the kitchen. Jars rattled when you opened the fridge, a cupboard creaked as you looked for a glass that was actually clean, and I heard you pour something -- could only have been soda, in the middle of the night, you spectacular trainwreck. Then you crossed back to me, set your glass on a surface that shouldn’t have been there, and stopped moving. You just went quiet. So much that I thought you must have been plotting a way to mess with me in my sleep. I welcomed it, too. I couldn’t wait to catch you in the act and tackle you to the floor.

Then I heard, soft as a mouse, “Mavy?”

The illusion dissipated the moment Fix-it spoke. Reality struck again, landing a critical hit on that miserable withdrawal depression. It wasn’t you. It was just Fix-it, who had apparently come to get me a new glass of water. Part of me wanted to spring up and deck him, but I stayed perfectly still and silent. I didn’t want to encourage him to keep talking to me. In all honesty, I felt too heavy and lifeless to do anything at all.

“Mavy?” he said again. “Are you awake?”

Another stupid question. I just imagined that he wasn’t there, in hopes that it would come true. But, much to my regret, I heard him sit on the coffee table again. I could feel him looking at me. He was silent long enough for me to think that he had come out just to watch me sleep, like an absolute creepazoid. But just as I was bucking up the moxie to tell him to buzz off, he spoke again.

“Mavy… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, or-- or tried to pressure you, or…” 

The first of many long pauses. 

“...I never should have doubted you. You’re worth so… so much more than anyone gives you credit for, and… I’ve known that since day one. Somewhere in this mayhem, I… just... lost sight of that. I know you won’t listen to how sorry I am… but I promise you, Mavy, it won’t happen again. Families support each other… and… this little family of two is all we’ve got. And I know…”

A long pause.

“...I know that you don’t… want a family. But, darn it, Mavy, you need a family, now more than ever. It… It hurts so much watching all this happen to someone I care about. I’m trying so hard to help you, but I just…”

Another pause, exceptionally long this time. For a minute, I wondered if he had left without me noticing, but sure enough, he spoke again. This time, his voice trembled. He’d started crying.

“I… don’t know… how to be the family you need. It... seems like everything I try just… pushes you away even more. I’m not asking you to forgive me, even after all these years, I just… I wish… I wish we could just talk about it. I wish we could just start over and… be better.”

He sniffed, and fell silent again for a minute. When he spoke again, his voice was even quieter.

“You know, for all the trouble you two got into, I… I just loved seeing how happy he made you. I may not know how to be what you need, but… sure seemed like he did. No one else could make you laugh quite like him. ...I miss that laugh.”

Pause.

Then, by some miracle, I managed not to jump when he squeezed my hand. It was disgusting. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, so it was full skin-on-skin contact, and my hand was slimy with sweat, and for the Devs’ sake, Fix-it, I was asleep, as far as he knew. What kind of creep touches someone while they’re sleeping? Yeah, it was just my hand, but it’s the principle of the matter. I did not consent to that contact, and I would not have, even if he asked me. The whole idea of it pissed me off so much.

It didn’t make sense to me, then, why I didn’t pull away.

Maybe I was paralyzed with subconscious rage. Maybe I was too sick and depressed to move. Maybe I really, really didn’t want him to know I’d heard all that. Or, maybe pulling away would have conveyed a message that I didn’t want to send, one I didn’t think he fully deserved at the time.

Probably the rage.

Whatever my reason, he held my hand long enough to test me. Not even my gross, soggy palms deterred him. The binary in my hand was starting to really ache by the time he went on.

“You don’t deserve a broken heart, Mavy. I wish I could do more. I wish I could just… wave my hammer and bring him back for you. I’m so--... I’m so sorry I can’t give you that. There are some things I just… can’t fix.”

I heard him take a deep, slow breath, and it sounded like he rubbed his face with his free hand. For another few moments, I felt him watching me.

“Dream of something nice for me,” he finally muttered, and gave my hand one final squeeze before letting go. He stood, and, despite the fact that I was burning up, draped the blanket over my shoulders like some sappy cliché. Then he went the whole nine yards.

“Love you, cuz. Hope you know that.”

With that, he left me be. I waited until I heard his door creak and his duvet rustle to throw the blanket off and wipe my hand all over the couch. There was barely any mind power left in me to process what had just happened, but I suppose I ought to have thanked him for it -- it took my mind off of the things keeping me awake, and I eventually fell asleep, lost in uncomfortable thought.

I wasn’t angry, really, or even annoyed. I didn’t want to run away or chew him out. I just took bets with myself over how much longer it would be ‘til he realized he was wasting his time on me.

[urbanjohnny]

01. the perfect boyfriend

↳ “Pull over. Let me drive for awhile.” || 100 ways to say “I love you” collaboration

✗ pairing: taeil x reader

✗ genre: fluff

✗ word count: 2.4k

✗ author’s note: this is the first drabble of the collab! i apologize for this taking forever. i’ve been dealing with college and i just haven’t focused on writing. but here you all go, excuse any mistakes. this was barely edited and i sort of rushed the ending just to get it out. but please enjoy some taeil (・_・ヾ

If there was one characteristic Taeil possessed, it was no doubt he was a kindhearted boyfriend. He was the type of partner to cook you breakfast in the morning; a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, warm oatmeal with an abundance of berries, and perfectly toasted bagel with cream cheese. He washed your laundry when the hamper was spilling over with days old clothes, folding them all neatly once dry. And he ran you baths filled with delightful scents, followed by massages that rid the stress from the past week.

Taeil was unlike no other partner you had ever had for you had been with plenty of men, none of ever coming close to him. He was ranked high above, for he possessed an incredible amount of affection and devotion towards you, something none of your other suitors could equal. Taeil made sure to love you for who you were — all the flaws you held he paid no attention to, or explained to you that they made you who you were; a unique soul who brought so much joy into Moon Taeil’s life.

Today began like every other day, your eyes fluttered open to the sight of none other than your him. A small smiled formed on your soft rosy lips as you watched him still asleep, peaceful as could be. His eyes too slowly opened, a hand rubbing the sleepiness from them.

His voice was husky as he spoke, “Morning, beautiful.” He reached over, his delicate hand caressing your hair. “Did you sleep well?” Every morning he would ask the same question, yet you never grew tired of it.

You nodded, eyes closing as he continued to stroke your locks, a gesture that was always appreciated. He leaned over, giving you a light peck on your forehead before he rolled from the bed, taking a quick second to draw open the curtains that blocked the glow of the morning sun.

Your eyes opened, carefully watching Taeil’s movements. You enjoyed the site of his messy hair, his wrinkled white shirt, and the way his grey sweats hung so perfectly on his hips. How had you gotten so lucky? The question always crossed your mind and you were thankful you had met him.

Taeil sauntered towards the bathroom to take his morning shower, you rolled over, eyes still focused on him. You watched him turn on the shower before he proceeded to remove his clothes, effortlessly tossing them into the hamper. You sucked in a breath as you eyed his toned body, so grateful you had been blessed to witness this every morning.

He flashed you a wink before he hopped into the warm water, your cheeks tinging pink. You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by the wicked thoughts that floated through your mind. When you had gotten over Taeil’s body you reached for your phone, quickly replying to any messages that had been left, also taking a short glance at social media.

Somehow, you had managed to doze off again for when you awoke the smell of freshly prepared breakfast tore your from your slumber. You lazily tossed the sheets aside, dragging yourself from the bed and towards the kitchen where Taeil awaited for your presence, a small and simple spread laid out on the marble countertop of the kitchen island.

He pulled the chair out from underneath the counter, allowing you to sit. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, but I figured the usual.” He flashed a bright smile, gifting you with another peck to the cheek.

You returned his gesture with a kiss on his lips, grinning at the delicious looking food before you. “Thank you, Taeil.” Your mouth watered at the site of scrambled eggs and toast smothered with blueberry jam. A mug of your favorite raspberry tea sat next to the plate, steam spilling over the edge.

A sigh left your mouth as you swallowed a bite of the delicious food, smiling again at your boyfriend who was leaning against the counter across from you. He returned the smile by flashing his pearly white teeth.

You took another bite of your toast before you began your asked a question. “What time do you get off work today?” The warmth from the tea slipped down your throat as you took a sip.

Taeil reached for his phone, quickly checking his schedule. “Five thirty.” He responded.

You nodded before you looked up. “Should we have dinner downtown?” You stabbed your fork into the eggs. “I can come pick you up and we can go eat at that new restaurant we’ve been wanting to try.”

“Are you sure you want to drive downtown? There will be lots of traffic.” He posed, taking a drink of his hot coffee.

You shrugged in response. “I don’t mind. It’s Friday night anyways. There’s no rush.”

“Then let’s go.” Taeil exclaimed, before he disappeared back to the bedroom to grab suit jacket.

You found yourself waiting at the door, Taeil’s onyx Burberry briefcase in hand — you had given him the briefcase for your one year anniversary and he had used it everyday since then. He took the bag from you before he planted a kiss upon your lips, gently squeezing your shoulder. Taking the chance you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in to deepen the kiss. You would have continued on, but you were interrupted by Taeil’s phone signaling his co worker had arrived to pick him up.

His lips left yours, a small smile forming on his lips. “I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart.” He breathed, quickly giving you another peck before he bolted out of the condo.

You let out the breath you had been holding in, raising your fingers to your lips where you smiled at the thought of the kiss the two of you had just shared. No matter how much Taeil laid his lips upon yours, you would never get over the feeling of fireworks that occurred during the event.

The mist of your Chanel perfume dusted your skin with its fragrance of exotic jasmine and orange blossom. You fastened your dainty diamond necklace Taeil had given you around your neck, followed by slipping on several silver rings onto your long fingers. Your wine colored lipstick glided smoothly onto your lips, the last touch to your simple, yet eye catching outfit — a black bardot dress paired with simple silver heels. A silver Louis Vuitton clutch rested in your palms.

After checking yourself once more in your mirror, you grabbed the keys to the car, hastily making your way out of the condo, dashing for the elevator. You had spent too much time getting ready even though you had felt the need to dress up, for tonight was going to be a fancy night. You looked down at your watch, your breath speeding up as you hopped to make it out of the building in time.

The elevator door opened to the parking garage, your heels clicking loudly against the concrete and you raced to the car. Just as your hands on your watch struck four thirty just as you ducked into your BMW 750 i.

Your tires screeched as you pulled out of your parking space, now on route to pick up Taeil. A scowl formed on your face as you halted at a red light, an exasperated sigh leaving your mouth as you observed the traffic up ahead. Taeil’s office happened to be on the opposite side of downtown though it took and even though it was a rather short drive, it usually took and hour due to heavy traffic.

The drive to your boyfriend’s office was more annoying than time consuming, for the drivers your encountered were just plain stupid. Taxis attempted to cut you off, residents of downtown swerved and halted with no warning, and tourists were just the worst.

Yet, somehow despite the mess you encountered, you managed to arrive with time to spare in front of the tall glass building, employees now beginning to make their way out of the building. You casually checked your phone as you waited for your boyfriend to appear, looking up in excitement when the sound of the car door opening flowed through your ears.

“How was work?” You pondered, pressing your lips onto Taeil’s as he leaned over the center console.

He smiled against your lips before he pulled away, his seat belt clicking as he fastened it. “Today went well.” He beamed.

You smiled in response, ecstatic to hear the news. For the past week, Taeil had been preparing for a crucial executive presentation, one that would not only help the company grow, but also earn him a significant promotion.

He reached over, placing a strong hand on your thigh, squeezing it gently. “Also, thank you for picking me up. You look breathtaking, sweetheart.” He smiled as he turned away.

You blushed, thanking him for it had been a long time since the two of you had gone out on a lavish date.

Almost forty minutes had gone by due to traffic when you pulled the sleek car into the valet, the valet boy opening your door, escorting you out of the vehicle. You met Taeil on the other side, latching onto his arm as he led you into the extravagant restaurant.

The walls were lined with a deep rose colored wallpaper, above iron chandeliers hung, casting a muted glow throughout the dining room. The tables were lined with starch white tablecloths, and perfectly folded napkins sat on top of the delicate china set on the surface.

A casual conversation began after the two of you were seated and had placed your orders for wine. Taeil, like usual, began to ask you how your day had been, followed by questioning if you were tired, if you were alright. You would always respond with a chuckle, amused by how he would always be concerned about you even if the day had been spent sitting on the couch in your pajamas, “Are you sure it wasn’t too much trouble to drive all the way down here? Traffic was awful.” He asked as he took a sip of his Merlot.

You squeezed his hand, shaking your head in response. “Taeil, it’s fine, I promise.” You couldn’t help, but sigh when he seemed unsatisfied by your answer. “Taeil, I rarely get the chance to pick you up. Besides, we haven’t had the chance to do something nice in a really long time.”

Taeil nodded along, agreeing with your points. He always made the effort to treat you, pick you up, doing whatever he could to alleviate the negative in your life and tonight you wanted to treat him. Especially since today he had landed the contract and earned a promotion.

The dinner continued on, the two of you enjoying the courses you had ordered; simple caesar salads, one entree of scallops and the other of perfectly cooked filet mignon, and a freshly made serving of tiramisu for two. Tonight was by far one of the best meals you had in quite a long time.

Your slender fingers reached for the check once it was set to rest by your waiter. “I’ll pay tonight.” You announced to your boyfriend.

Taeil shook his head as he attempted to steal the check away from your hand. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to treat me tonight. I’ll pay.”

You responded by pushing his hands away, grinning sweetly. “You deserve it.” The silver card you possessed slide into the holder. “Besides, the last time I paid for us was last year.” The tone you possessed was serious as you set the check at the corner of the table ready to be collected.

Soon you both had made your way back to the valet, the attendant helping you once again into your car, Taeil settling himself into the passenger seat.

The drive home was supposed to be straightforward, no traffic, no construction, and no confusing directions, yet it turned out to be anything but that. Cars were backed up for miles due to an accident ahead, one that would take quite a while to clear. You impatiently drummed your fingers against the leather bound steering wheel, an annoyed breath leaving your lips. Taeil noticed as he reached over to rub your shoulder in order to comfort you. You answered with a ‘thank you’ continuing to stare at the mess that was in front of you.

Minutes trickled by and yawns were beginning to flow from your mouth.

“Pull over. Let me drive for awhile.” Taeil suggested, a look of concern plastered to his face.

You replied by shaking your head, not wanting to bother Taeil with driving. He would have to adjust the seat and the mirrors and you felt it was such a hassle for such a minor drive.

He exhaled. “Pull over, Y/N.” He removed his seatbelt ready to take over.

As much as you wanted to say no again, you knew Taeil would jump out of the car at any moment so you obliged, carefully pulling over to let him drive. The two of you switched places, your boyfriend working his way back into the stream of traffic

He laid his hand on your thigh, patting it softly. “Close your eyes, Y/N. Rest.”

You nodded, your eyes shutting and soon you drifted into a peaceful rest.

When you awoke the first thing you heard was the sound of the car door slamming shut. You peered out of the window, eyes meeting with Taeil’s as he opened the door, unbuckling you from your seat. He not only scooped up your purse, but you as well, carrying you into the elevator and up to the shared residence.

Taeil had no plans of putting you down until you reached your bed, carefully setting you on the edge where he proceeded to remove your shoes and hand you some soft pajamas. You had no strength to remove your makeup, instead heading straight for the covers where you immediately snuggled under the comforting blankets.

Your voice was barely audible as Taeil approached you, sitting himself at the edge. “Thank you.” The corners of your lips curling into a small smile.

The boy stroked your locks tenderly before planting a kiss on your lips. “Thank you for tonight, sweetheart. I had a good time.” He helped tuck you in, before planting one last kiss on your forehead.

You reached for his hand, taking it in yours. “You really are perfect, you know that?”

“I just try my best to make you happy.” He replied, giving you another smile.

You nodded, whispering another ‘thank you’ before you felt your body relax, your eyes shutting, now entering a peaceful slumber.

[arplis]

Arplis - News: 2020-01-13

[Music] 00:07 mostly because of dying stars scientists 00:11 say space smells like barbeque and 00:13 gunpowder which is to say space smells 00:17 like the United States a holiday where 00:20 we celebrate the independence of machine 00:22 guns how anyone can buy a cemetery at a 00:25 sporting goods store on their 18th 00:27 birthday and open carry it to an 00:29 elementary school where children are 00:32 learning tears don’t fall in space 00:34 weightless without gravity they never 00:37 leave the eye is that what happens to 00:40 the NRA a child asks after the bodies of 00:43 half her glass have used every red 00:46 crayon in the universe to scream goodbye 00:48 did the NRA skiers not drop because 00:51 they’re astronauts how it is apparent 00:53 tell a six-year-old the gun sales spike 00:56 every time our right to bear massacres 00:58 makes the coroner faint make some 01:01 medical examiner sack can’t my god I 01:04 can’t but we can 01:06 can’t we America each election don’t we 01:09 could say we can stomach the boy loading 01:12 a black hole into his backpack and 01:14 unloading it in the high school hallway 01:16 on Valentine’s Day it would take light 01:19 years to count how many times the Tariff 01:21 Act Tex did I love you I love you I love 01:24 you in parkland Florida will be NRA kept 01:27 crying in space my friends a second 01:31 grade teacher is told to practice hiding 01:33 her children in the closet 23 7 01:36 year-olds huddle holding their breath 01:38 holding your breath and space is the 01:40 fastest way to die 01:42 the lungs explode in the vacuum almost 01:45 as quickly as an ar-15 can make blood 01:48 dust of a closet door of the 20 children 01:50 murdered at Sandy Hook not one of them 01:54 needed an ambulance 01:55 that’s how dead they were that’s how 01:57 well the Second Amendment Orcs because 01:59 there is no air it is silent in space 02:02 but not as silent as the Christians on 02:05 the Senate floor well 20 more families 02:07 are asked if they would like to talk to 02:09 a priest Christ could tear the nails 02:12 from his hands and scrape them down a 02:14 blood splattered chalkboard and they 02:16 would still be praying for their bank 02:18 accounts after Columbine parents were 02:21 called into tiny conference rooms one 02:24 family said we could hear the family 02:26 before his screaming and we knew we were 02:28 next 02:28 now loved ones check Facebook to see who 02:31 is dead 02:31 a mother’s statuses I can’t reach my 02:33 daughter I can’t reach my daughter 02:35 decades after her child is murdered in 02:38 the cafeteria that thought will still be 02:41 tearing her from her bed I can’t reach 02:43 my daughter the footprints left by 02:46 astronauts on the moon are permanent 02:49 they will never go away like the grief 02:51 of a father identifying his son by his 02:54 shoes because the rest of his son’s body 02:56 was out lobbied by suits whispering into 03:00 the ears of Washington this is what 03:02 America means about freedom and justice 03:05 the names of our cities becoming 03:07 synonymous with babies being buried like 03:09 seeds in the green gardens of the 03:11 wealthy but you should know your teacher 03:14 was a hero we see her body found 03:17 bunkering a group of your friends and 03:19 that’s as happy as the ending gets right 03:22 now the heroes almost always dead the 03:26 flag at half-mast grave children huddled 03:29 in basements trying to tear off their 03:32 ears on the fourth of July because the 03:34 fireworks sound that the day everyone 03:37 died crying died with her next 80 03:41 birthdays pouring from their eyes well 03:45 America reloaded and moved on to the 03:49 next 03:57 you — Have you read the original anthology that was the catalyst for The Good Men Project? Buy here: The Good Men Project: Real Stories from the Front Lines of Modern Manhood ◊♦◊ If you believe in the work we are doing here at The Good Men Project and want to join our calls, please join us as a Premium Member, today. All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS. Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here. — The post America, Reloading appeared first on The Good Men Project. #Bits&Pieces #FeaturedContent

Arplis - News source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Arplis-News/~3/W4EDwabc-Zs/2020-01-13

[terabitweb]

Original Post from Security Affairs Author: Pierluigi Paganini

While driving to work I have seen the advertisement of a Fireworks Festival that’s going to happen in the city. What about hacking Radio Blasting Systems?

And, as usual, my curiosity brought me to one question: “How they trigger the fireworks?” 

Back when I was a contractor I have worked for a company which the main business was demolition with explosives. To give you an idea…

And guess what? They were using a similar method to trigger remotely the charges. But let’s continue this topic later. Now let’s focus on the RF Blasting System.

A quick search on the internet returned many products related to the topic. On Amazon, I managed to find one for an acceptable price.

Though, before spending 300+ EUR I have asked the seller to send me the manual. And that’s where the challenge started. 

While reading it, the sentence #5 hit my curiosity: looks like they are declaring the RF system is using Rolling Code and the likelihood of a potential threat actor to take over the control is pretty low…. “but also maybe appear”. WTF  

Long-story short… it arrived home the new toy and guess what? No Rolling-Code, No MSK/FSK/GMSK or other strange modulations… Yet another classic 433MHZ Amplitude Shifting Key modulation with On-Off Key. Which translated for the non-RF folks… easy to:

Sniff

Replay

And of course… Bruteforce.

First of all, I have followed the usual Reverse Engineering approach I use for investigating new RF devices and turned on the winning combination LimeSDR/RTL-SDR + URH. (Disclaimer: since I was focusing on the RF side, I started with the RF analysis. If it wouldn’t have lead to any low-hanging fruit result, I would have started the HW Reverse Engineering approach: tear-down, BoM enumeration and fingerprinting, FCC ID hunting, etc. Luckily for my scarce spare time, I didn’t need it.)

As you can see the center Frequency is around 433MHz, which is a standard frequency for commercial consumer-grade RF devices.

From the Spectrogram we can clearly see that the modulation is ASK.

Now we need to decode the packets and see if we are really dealing with ASK and eventually confirm the sub-modulation type (i.e. OOK, in my assumption).

As you can see, URH successfully managed to decode the packets (with minor tweaking of the Error Tolerance and Bit Length parameters).

Now that we have the binary sequence, we clearly see the duty-cycle of this RF device, where a:

1 is encoded as 1110

0 is encoded as 1000

No preambles. No ACK packet from the receiving unit. Just a simple broadcast packet. Always repeating itself. Which allows us to eliminate the Rolling-Code assumption. The vendor lied! OR “maybe” not!

With all these data we can finally compose the packet that is transmitted to trigger the 1st charge on Area 01:

Now we are ready to give it a try with the Standalone Firmware of WHID Elite and see if it is able to decode them too. 

As assumed, WHID Elite can perfectly sniff and decode the packets. In the image above you can see the bit sequences for triggering all charges of Area 01 (the default one of this RF Blasting System), other Areas and the FireAll and RapidFire commands.

15532481 Area01 Charge1

15532482 Area01 Charge2

15532483 Area01 Charge3

………………………..

15532238 All Fire

As you can easily spot the decimal distance between the packets is just matter of few integers. Which means, we can easily bruteforce and thus exhaust the space between them with the main WHID Elite Firmware.

Therefore no more text to read, enjoy the audio/video PoC!https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PlEcn5venMI Keep also an eye on my Twitter https://twitter.com/WHID_Injectorsoon I will make GIVEAWAY for a full set of WHID Elite! 

P.S. This is just the beginning. Since ASK/OOK without Rolling Code is not satisfactory enough from challenge point of view… I alreasy started looking for other RF Blasting Systems. As little Teaser, here below some cool stuff I have found. Stay tuned folks!

Yes, you read it right! Is using Bluetooth Low Energy! (I can already smell fun times)! 

This is so far my favorite! In the FCC application they left public even the Schematics!  

As you can see, FCC database is full of these RF Blasting Systems. And space from low frequency (i.e. 40MHz), passing through 160MHz until Bluetooth Low Energy.

I will try my best to find some used ones at an affordable price (since I am doing it in my spare time and without any external funding). If it happens you have one or you know someone that could borrow me for some radio analysis… I owe you a beer and a WHID Elite. 

About the author: Luca Bongiorni

Luca is working as Principal Offensive Security Engineer and in his spare time is involved in InfoSec where the main fields of research are: Radio Networks, Hardware Reverse Engineering, Hardware Hacking, Internet of Things and Physical Security. He also loves to share his knowledge and present some cool projects at security conferences around the globe. At the moment is focusing his researches on bypassing biometric access control systems, ICS Security and Air-Gapped Environments.

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Pierluigi Paganini

(SecurityAffairs – Radio Blasting Systems, hacking)

The post Hacking Radio Blasting Systems for Fun & Explosions appeared first on Security Affairs.

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Go to Source Author: Pierluigi Paganini Hacking Radio Blasting Systems for Fun & Explosions Original Post from Security Affairs Author: Pierluigi Paganini While driving to work I have seen the advertisement of a Fireworks Festival that’s going to happen in the city.

[dailynynews-blog]

New Star Wars Lands to Blast Off at Disneyland and Disney World

New Post has been published on https://www.usatelegraph.com/2018/new-star-wars-lands-blast-off-disneyland-disney-world/

New Star Wars Lands to Blast Off at Disneyland and Disney World

01of 09

Disney Parks’ Creative Force Awakens

•••

February 2016 update: Disney presented a Disneyland 60th anniversary celebration TV special on ABC (the network that is part of its vast media empire) and included a segment about the Star Wars lands hosted by none other than Harrison Ford. The special didn’t reveal too much that hadn’t already been divulged. Although Disney is still referring to the projects as “Star Wars-themed lands,” Han Solo, er Mr. Ford, called them “The Star Wars Experience.” That may or may not be the official name.

Previously written in 2015: After many months of vague promises from company honchos and speculation by rabid fans, Disney CEO Bob Iger finally made it official: Star Wars rides are on the way.

Speaking at the 2015 D23 Expo, Mickey’s boss said that Star Wars-themed lands — and yes, that’s “lands” with an “s,” as in more than one — will be built at both the original Disneyland Park and at Disney’s Hollywood Studios , part of Walt Disney World in Florida. Big Thunder Ranch and nearby areas will be used at Disneyland. It’s unclear exactly where the land will be located at Disney World, although it would make sense to place it near the existing Star Tours ride. 

Each of the lands will span 14 acres, which is enormous for theme parks. As to the level of detail and immersion, Iger assured the D23 crowd that his merry band of Imagineers would build “jaw-dropping new worlds.” Just look at Disney’s lush rendering at the top of the page to get a sense of what’s coming.

When, you surely want to know, will all of this galactic goodness be good to go? Opening dates and nearly all other details about the Star Wars park projects are still unknown. Iger and others at the D23 Expo kept emphasizing that such a massive undertaking would take time to develop and build. Reportedly, construction will begin in 2017. I wouldn’t anticipate that anything would open much before 2020, so you’ll have to hang tight for awhile.

Pilot the Millennium Falcon

So, what details were revealed? Rather than re-create an existing world from the Star Wars canon, the lands will represent an entirely new world. According to Bob Chapek, chairman, Walt Disney Parks and Resorts, guests will enter a “gateway planet on the outer rim.” The way station, which Chapek also referred to as a “remote frontier town,” will include established characters as well as new ones.

There will be two major attractions, both of which sound like they will be media-based rides. One will invite rookie pilots to fly a mission aboard the Millennium Falcon, Han Solo’s “bucket of bolts” from the original trilogy. With talk about “customized adventures,” it appears that this could be some sort of an interactive ride with many variables.

The other announced attraction will place visitors in the middle of a battle between the First Order and the Resistance. If that doesn’t sound familiar, it’s because the story will focus on the new movie, Star Wars: The Force Awakens, which will open in December 2015.

Care for Some Blue Milk?

In addition to the blockbuster rides, expect the Star Wars lands to be encompassing and rich environments that will be feasts for the senses. At D23, Scott Trowbridge, portfolio creative executive and the Imagineer tapped to lead the Star Wars projects, hinted at what’s to come.

“Who ever wondered what Bantha fodder smelled like?” he teased. (The foul-smelling food is used as a pejorative term in the Star Wars universe.) Trowbridge also indicated that guests might be able to taste blue milk, a yummy treat. I don’t know whether either of the items will be available for actual consumption, but there will be a Cantina restaurant with themed dishes.

That kind of multi-sensory focus and attention to detail is indicative of the extreme level of themeing that the major park operators are now incorporating into their lands. Disney may have pioneered the concept of the theme park, but arch-rival Universal took themeing to new levels with the impeccable Wizarding World of Harry Potter Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade lands at its Orlando resort. Harry will head west into Disneyland’s playground when Universal Studios Hollywood opens its Potter land in 2016.

Disney responded with its over-the-top, single-intellectual-property project, Cars Land at Disney California Adventure. The new Star Wars lands will continue the high-stakes brinkmanship. Iger said that the intergalactic outpost will be filled with humanoids, aliens, and droids and that the shops and eateries will be “run by local inhabitants. Nothing will be out of character.”

Nothing but Star Wars

All of the devotion to detail and wild-soudning attractions are enough to make a droid blow a gasket in anticipation. Star Wars and theme park fans may also melt down before the Force awakens on the as-yet-unannounced opening date in some year far, far away. Have no fear droids and fans. Disney’s got you covered.

To capitalize on the synergy from the new film’s Christmas 2015 release (and steal some thunder from Universal’s upcoming Potter and King Kong attractions to boot), Star Wars mania began in earnest in 2015. In fact, park guests may be belting out a hearty rendition of “Nothing but Star Wars” with all that’s now open and on the way. Here’s a rundown of what to expect in the months and years leading up to the completion of the new lands:

Star Wars Launch Bay – Visitors can now meet characters, buy some special merch (of course), chow down on some themed treats, and ogle artifacts related to the new film at a popup exhibit. At Disneyland, the Launch Bay joins forces with the Marvel-themed Super Hero HQ in Tomorrowland. The Animation Courtyard serves as the location at Disney’s Hollywood Studios.

Star Tours – The Adventures Continue – The original Star Wars-themed attraction got a reboot in late 2015 with new stories culled from the movie trilogy. Speaking of Star Tours, what will become of the simulator attractions? Since Disneyland’s new Star Wars project will be built away from Tomorrowland, the imperative to maintain continuity dictates that Star Tours should close. Perhaps Disney will move it to the new land and repurpose the existing attraction (maybe turn it into the Iron Man Experience, which is on tap at Shanghai Disneyland?). At Disney’s Hollywood Studios, the new land will likely be built adjacent to Star Tours and will be able to encompass the ride.

Jedi Training Academy – At both parks, the popular experience has introduced new characters based on the animated TV show, “Star Wars Rebels.”

Season of the Force – Based on Disney World’s successful Star Wars Weekends, both parks are hosting new limited-time seasonal events.

Hyperspace Mountain – As part of Season of the Force, Disneyland now features a Star Wars-themed overlay to Space Mountain.

Star Wars Fireworks – Starting in spring 2016, Disney’s Hollywood Studios will cap its evenings with a themed pyrotechnics show.

Next up: Check Out the Rockwork

02of 09

Check Out the Rockwork

•••

Based on the renderings, the 14-acre lands will include vast amounts of rockwork and other architectural flourishes. That’s the Millennium Falcon in the foreground. The iconic starship will be featured in one of the lands’ two major attractions.

Disney has not revealed any costs. But the ambitious, elaborate-looking and -sounding Star Wars project will surely cost in the hundreds of millions dollars — and possibly in the billion-dollar range. That’s for each land. That’s a lot of Galactic Credits.

​Next up: Bustling Frontier Town

03of 09

Bustling Frontier Town

•••

Don’t look now, but isn’t that C3PO and R2D2 chatting with a certain princess? When they open, the lands will include alien creatures, humanoids, and other assorted Star Wars characters. Expect pervasive themeing throughout the new areas.

​Next up: Line Up

04of 09

Line Up

•••

Disney released this piece of concept art in February 2016. It appears to be one of the queues, perhaps for one of the major Star Wars attractions. Whatever it is, it sure looks sweet.

Next up: Guarded by storm troopers

05of 09

Guarded by Storm Troopers

•••

Another piece of concept art released in February 2016. Storm troopers will, apparently, be scattered throughout the lands.

Next up:  Mouse Ears and Lightsabers

06of 09

Mouse Ears and Lightsabers

•••

In another piece of concept art released in February 2016, you can get a sense of the scale of the land. Note how the young visitor in Mouse ears is dwarfed by the ship. Is that the Millennium Falcon?

Next up: New Star Wars Event

07of 09

New Star Wars Event

•••

The temporary Star Wars Launch Bay exhibits opened in California and Florida with the release of the new Star Wars movie in December 2015. They will likely remain open until the permanent Star Wars lands open.

​Next up: Take Off into Hyperspace

08of 09

Take Off into Hyperspace

•••

As part of Season of the Force, Space Mountain at Disneyland has been re-themed to Star Wars. For a limited time, the classic ride is featuring new digital projections, new effects, and enhanced onboard audio.

​Next up: But Wait, There’s More!

09of 09

But Wait, There’s More!

•••

Disney CEO Bob Iger announced the new Star War lands at the 2015 D23 Expo. He and his team also made a bunch of other park announcements at the event, including:

New Toy Story Land at Disney’s Hollywood Studios – A Slinky Dog coaster, alien saucers ride, and an expanded Toy Story Mania! are coming.

Pandora – The World of Avatar – More info was released about the new land coming to Disney’s Animal Kingdom.

Soarin’ Around the World – Instead of sticking with California, the fabulous Soarin’ ride will take off to locations far and wide starting in 2016.

[stardestined]

@aracniido​.    ✦

     sam weaves to and fro on his skateboard like a robin fluttering through the breeze --- with great grace and efficiency, and a second-nature intuition. it’s at a slow pace so that miles can keep up, and the sounds of the city drown out the rustle of paint cans in their bags.        ❝  how much farther is this spot, anyway?  ❞       sam looks to his friend with curiosity --- and with a little bit of impatience.        ❝  i still dunno why you wouldn’t let me just fly us there.  ❞

[stardestined]

@brutlist​.   ✦

     he has a bad feeling about this.  (he has a bad feeling about most things lately.)  being on the run from most (all?) levels of government can do that to a person, and that’s on top of being a nova, which are notorious for being hunted down across the galaxy --- mostly for vengeance, and often for sport.

     H.E.R.O.N.. sam doesn’t know much about them,  (he feels like he doesn’t know much about most things)  but what he does know is that this guy has big boss vibes and if he sees him, he’ll probably be in big boss trouble. 

                       ❝  shit ---  ❞        it’s a whisper as he hears footsteps round the corner, and sam wishes in that moment as he braces for being seen, that he’d flown in literally any other direction than this one. 

[stardestined]

*sisterly punch*

@irxnlegacy!

     so he’s been in a bit of a funk lately. (being on the run across the country for weeks on-end will do that to you.) it’s probably obvious, from all the pouting and the huffing and the like --- because while sam is pretty good at hiding what really matters from people so he doesn’t have to bother them with the heavy problems, he’s still really, really bad at masking his bad moods.

     riri can read them all like the back of her hand anyway, so it doesn’t really matter, in the end. she’d know no matter what.

     the punch comes out of left field, in sam’s opinion; he didn’t even notice that she’d seen him brooding alone in his private little corner of the rooftops they’ve been squatting on for the past two days, let alone walked up to him to whack him in the shoulder. the nova yelps out an OW and whips his head around, the lenses in his helmet narrowing in a pointed blame.

                 ❝  ---hey, what the hell?  ❞        she’s smiling at him with that crooked grin, and he takes a half-baked swipe back at her that just barely grazes her arm.        ❝  you wanna fight me or something?  ❞

[stardestined]

‘ hot chocolate helps. and good company. ’

an old meme of some sort  |  lost to the void

@etrnty.

     it’s funny, how the cosmos speaks to sam. the helmet does most of the work — mapping out his trajectory for location to location, telling him which cluster of suns belongs to which network of planets, translating alien tongue and letting him breathe amid the terrifying vacuum of space. but even though it does all that, and even though sam wouldn’t nearly be as successful a nova without it — he’s developed his own ways of communicating with the stars.

     he reads morse code in the flickering of comets; makes out words, hears songs between the twinkling stars. the purple horizon, the blue clouds, the gold and green and black backdrops of the universe — he knows what rests beyond them. feels it in his heart.

     and he always knows which way is home.

     sam hasn’t been back to the moon since he laid his dear friend to rest — how could he come back, after what he saw and what he lost? and standing here, now, he remembers carving out his gravesite, making an everlasting tribute out of moonrock to the greatest watcher the universe will ever know. he used to talk to uatu about his problems, his anxieties and his fears and his paranoias and his adventures. now, he turns to the sky.

     and the sky… is talking back to him?

     when sam turns to face the sudden and jarring voice, it’s to a neck-breaking pace — he whips his head around, spinning on his feet to try and locate the source.  ( pardon him. the last time someone was snuck up on here, they were murdered. )  it takes him a minute — all he sees are the stars, spread out like a blanket around him — until he sees it. a figure, moving at a different pace from the cosmos behind them. tall, blue and black and sparkling, with bright white eyes that look as old as time. sam feels both comfortable and alarmed by the figure’s presence all at once; it’s unnatural, and yet still familiar.  ( the stars are his home; they’re in his blood. how could this creature not be a part of that? )

                          hot chocolate helps. and good company.

     he blinks, slowly. it’s not every day that a cosmic-entity eavesdrops on your aimless venting.

               ❝  …you know about hot chocolate?  ❞

[stardestined]

❝ I want you to promise me something. If there's a chance that one of us won't survive. I want you to leave me behind. ❞ There's no hint of joking in his voice, as he places a hand on Sam's shoulder. ❝ The Universe will always need a Nova and you're young you have your life ahead of you. I'm old and experienced everything that I needed to experience. I will never let you lose that chance to live. ❞

@golddome. ihu

     sam has learned a lot about richard rider over the past few years. most of it, he heard before he even met the guy; tales from heroes and villains across the galaxy, friends and foes alike who praised him as being one of the toughest and strongest people the stars have ever known. the greatest nova to ever live, past, present, and future; the prime to outshine them all. all sam ever heard about richard was admiration, and it made him jealous. it frustrated him like crazy — knowing that he would never be enough in the eyes of so many people because the guy who came before him left such impossibly huge shoes to fill. it bothered him so much ( could you imagine having your hard work marked-down because of a ghost? ), even nearly to the point of resentment— but, something stopped him. the human factor. richard rider wasn’t just a legend, he was a real, tangible thing that left a mark on the world that he left behind, and people loved him.

     the wistful sigh in peter’s tone when he shared stories of past battles. the quiet, warm presence that richard’s mother held when sam visited her. the stern snap in gamora’s tone the first time she spoke of him in front of sam — the thunderous crack of her voice, daring him to act on his disrespect. it was clear as day.

     it was love. and it was lonely.

     sam stares at him, stern like gamora taught him to be, and he really listens. i want you to leave me behind, he says, without flinching. i want you to let me die a warrior’s death is what sam hears after a moment of thought, and he doesn’t flinch at the implication either. they’ve had a topsy-turvy relationship since richard’s resurrection, but sam doesn’t intend to let it stop here.

          ❝  you think i dove into the cancerverse after you, risked my life to bring you home, just to leave you behind another time?  ❞

    sam had cast aside his anger to go after him; he’d cast aside the deep, deep-set betrayal that rich had carved into him from putting his family at risk, to go after him. rich lied to him under his own roof and still sam followed — still he persisted, following his prime into the dark to pull him out of the hell he’d never deserved to endure. and sam refuses to throw that away.

    he really looks at rich and he sees the legacy that he’s been killing himself over living up to for years, sees the shadow that’s loomed over him since he first donned this helmet, void and dark and as heavy as the night sky, and sees the legend that was face to face with death and spat at his feet anyway — and despite all of that, he looks past it even further, and just sees a man.

    a tired, tired man.

            ❝  —nope. sorry, nova, but i don’t care what you want.  ❞

    the pressure of richard’s hand on his shoulder feels like a thousand pounds pressing into his bones, packing him into the dirt, covering his mouth and eyes with sand —- but he stands through it all just like he always has, a pillar among the fallen ruins. sam is young, yes, and he has much of his life yet to lead, yes, but that doesn’t make him any more or less worthy to be the nova that the universe needs. if anything, it needs rich more. sam knows that. ( he’s been hearing it for years. )

             ❝  we do what the universe needs us to do, right? what was it that you told me, once —  ❞     sam thinks back to that golden room — stained glass windows and starry skies beyond them, shifting floors and melting walls, and a being so ethereal and otherworldly that it towered over sam, standing twice his size.   ❝  that as long as you have the power to help people, you don’t get to quit.  ❞          sam holds his gaze, a challenge. his eyes are fierce, and if rich fights him on this, it’s clear as day that he’ll knock his lights out.

    ( he can’t lose rich. he can’t lose anyone else. all he does is lose people. )

              ❝  … and i’m not gonna let you.  ❞

[stardestined]

@bendygirl.  ♡

     sam knows the importance of knocking---- he has a little sister and a single mother who don’t like to be barged in on, whether it’s him interrupting a stuffed animal’s tea-party or whatever telenovela his mom is watching that day. walking into riri’s room while she was working also solidified the importance of the knock; he got a pencil case to the forehead for that.

     so, sam raps his knuckles on the door of ms. marvel’s room on the champions bunker before he enters, patiently waiting with a bowl of popcorn and chips under his arm. she doesn’t reply to him for a bit, and his brows furrow. maybe she’s playing world of battlecraft or something?          ❝  hello--o? you alive in there?  ❞

[stardestined]

he finished it–––– his latest picture finally out of his sketchbook and up on a wall. he'd worked hard on his tribute to nova: his signature helmet, a moon and stars, and NOVA in bright, bold letters. the picture he took was hasty in his nervousness, a landscape from a few feet away, and he didn't check to see what the reply is to the picture and short message of, 'put this up for you––––like it?' he sent before putting the phone in his pocket and packing his paints away. why was he so nervous?

@aracniido. kai sniped me

     sam feels his phone buzz somewhere under his blanket, and he gropes blindly around the sheets to grab it --- half-asleep, only half-knowing what he’s doing. it’s a little bit after dinner in arizona, and sam had decided to take a nap before going out to fly around for the night. sleep is a rare and valuable commodity for him, you see. he’s out in space for days at a time more often than not, and it isn’t easy to find a safe bed out there in the stars ---- but his plan to get some shut-eye is quickly derailed by a beeping phone and a text from a friend.

     he blinks at it, for a minute. doesn’t really know what miles means. put this up for you--- put what up? sam blinks the sleep out of his eyes in an attempt to feel a little more awake, but the clutches of a post-meal nap are unfairly strong. when he does wake up a little more though, he rolls onto his back and stifles a big yawn, noticing that miles had attached a picture to his message too.

     and that picture makes him feel like he’s still trapped in a dream.

     he zooms in and out on the semi-blurry picture, brows furrowed in confusion and in baffled surprise. the moon and stars sitting crisp and bright on top of a dark galaxy background, his name cut in swooping letters and bold colour, the intense red of his helmet’s star stamped in the middle of the piece with confidence and pride. it’s surreal. it’s not just nova --- it’s him. that’s his helmet. that’s his nova. sam refreshes the app, trying to trouble-shoot if this fever-dream is a reality or not, and it’s still there, staring back at him, when he clicks into his chat with miles. put this up for you---- like it?

                 he ---- he made this for me?

     sam’s face feels hot; like he’s been breathing under a weighted blanket for ten minutes, or stuffed in a sauna room, or ran a mile down the road on a hot summer day, or just been gifted a tribute art piece by his best friend who he totally hasn’t been crushing on at all, ever. never ever. his cheeks are warm, pink, flush with fluttery feelings and flattery and ever-beating butterflies, and he just. pulls the covers over his face for a moment and tosses his phone down to bounce off the mattress for a second. he needs a second!

     why miles would do this for him is beyond him --- it really came out of nowhere, and it’s so sweet and generous and meaningful and thoughtful (all things that miles absolutely is, of course) that sam can’t just type out a ‘wow, looks great man! ty!’ text and be done with it. he can’t! it couldn’t possibly be right! so he musters whatever courage is left in his little flustered heart and hops out of bed, pops his phone into his pocket, grabs his helmet---- and starts on his familiar fly across the country. it’s darker out here in brooklyn than it is back home ( there is a three-hour time difference, after all! ), but it’s no matter to sam. he makes his way up the familiar path to miles’ residence, looking around to make sure no one sees him coming, and when the coast is clear, he knocks quietly on miles’ window like a pigeon tapping the sill for crumbs. when the spider sees him and opens it up, sam smiles so big and so bright.  ( he’s so happy! he’s so crazy happy! )  he props his elbows up on the windowsill, leaning his cheek in one of his palms while his grin competes for the brightest light on the city skyline.

           ❝  hey, man. i heard there’s a sick new superhero mural downtown. real cool stuff. wanna go check it out? i wonder if i’ll get to meet the artist and get his autograph----  ❞

[stardestined]

“You sound ghastly, like some 90-year-old woman.”

          studio ghibli.  ||  accepting.

@zenwhobri.

     the wheezing sound is coming from his sinuses, he thinks. it must be; his lungs are raw and his heart thumps madly, chest heaving, eyes burning as he tries and fails to pull himself up. he asked gamora not to go easy on him—- so this is his fault, really. he did it to himself. sam sputters and he tastes copper in his mouth; wipes his cracked lip with the back of his hand and elects to sit there for a second, winded and waiting for life to be breathed back into him.

                 ❝  yeah, well, i usually—… usually have the helmet t’ do most of this stuff for me.  ❞

     the blocking, the blasting, the translating, the flying, the cushioning, the everything. the nova helmet does everything, and all sam has to do is move in it. that’s what it feels like sometimes, anyway — and that’s what it must look like to other people, too. sam knows what his teammates think; that he’s a danger out on the field without the helmet, that he’s a liability just waiting to happen. sam already hates having to be saved as it is — to be scooped up by riri and flown away, shielded by brawn, corralled out of the fire by viv and ms. marvel.

     he can’t take being left out of the fight. it’s not in his blood, to back down.

     so he has to work harder now, harder than ever, to stay on-top of his shit. to stay motivated, to still feel capable, to expand his skills to make up for the ones he’s lost since his helmet was confiscated. that’s where getting his ass handed to him on a silver platter by gamora comes in. she was his teacher once, years ago, and he’s asked her to be his teacher again so he can brush up on old lessons, and learn some new ones.

     sam shakes his head a little, swallowing a cough in his throat. it tastes bitter. ( everything about this is bitter. )

                 ❝  ...but i can’t rely on it anymore. screw the new novas.  ❞

     jerks—- a bunch of heartless jerks is all they are. they can’t hold a candle to the novas that sam’s heard stories about, experienced their stories through the lenses of their helmets as he crossed the cosmos to find those fallen stars. they’re stupid. stupid. and they took his helmet! so stupid!

     his lip must’ve stopped bleeding by now. sam touches his palm to it again and no fresh blood comes back with it, so he’ll push himself to stand up again, breathing out a shaky sigh that flutters in his ragged lungs like wet paper.         ❝  so —- 90-year-old woman or not, i need to fight for myself. i’m NOT gonna sit on the sidelines anymore.  ❞