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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 1 month ago

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[Amy Siskind]

* * * *

Harris/Walz campaign in overdrive!

October 23, 2024

Robert B. Hubbell

The Harris-Walz campaign is in overdrive. On Tuesday, Vice President Harris sat for interviews with NBC and Telemundo. Tim Walz condemned Trump's “open promise of corruption” by appointing Elon Musk to oversee federal regulations that apply to Musk’s companies. Former President Barack Obama and rap star Eminem rallied for Harris in Detroit, and Kamala Harris is headed to Texas to campaign for Colin Allred.

As shown in the clips below, the Walz, Obama, and Harris rallies are stepping up already high levels of enthusiasm as Trump drones on for hours in his stream of unconsciousness manner.

The NBC interview followed the typical “gotcha” style of questioning from Hallie Jackson, who asked about Joe Biden’s debate performance, polls showing voters’ concerns about the economy, and Harris’s decision not to highlight the historic nature of her campaign to be the first woman president. See The Independent, Four takeaways from Kamala Harris' NBC interview.

In the Telemundo interview, Kamala Harris focused on economic opportunity for Latino men:

I am a capitalist. I am a pragmatic capitalist. I believe that we need a new generation of leadership in America that actively works with the private sector to build up the new industries of America, to build up small business owners, to allow us to increase home ownership. I am very aware how it would affect Latino men. I know that Latino men often have a more difficult time having access to the big loans from the big banks because of relationships, because of things that are not necessarily grounded in their qualifications. So I’m focused on what we can do to bring more capital to community banks that will understand the community and being able to give those kinds of loans.

See NBC News, Harris says she's 'a pragmatic capitalist' in pitch to Latino voters.

At campaign rallies on Tuesday, Tim Walz has stepped up the aggressiveness of his attacks on Trump and his running mate—“Elon Musk.” Per Walz, Musk’s “bouncing around the stage” makes him look like a “dipsh*t”—a description that echoes the widespread mocking of Musk’s stage performance on social media. Walz also noted the “open corruption” of Musk’s funding of Trump's campaign while Trump promised to put Musk in charge of a government commission reviewing federal regulations that apply to Musk’s companies.

Tim Walz’s entire speech is here, Walz delivers campaign remarks with Barack Obama in Madison, Wis. And in this clip, Walz addresses the corruption of Musk’s dual role as a campaign funder and potential government oversight maven: Tim Walz calls Elon Musk Trump's running mate and condemns "open corruption".

Apart from the substance of Walz’s speech, it is clear that he has been assigned the role of aggressively attacking Trump, Vance, and Musk. That is good because it relieves some of the pressure from Kamala Harris, and creates content for television and social media ads. And Tim Walz is very good on offense!

The joint appearance by Barack Obama and Eminem also deserves your attention. The Eminem walk-on is here: Eminem campaigns for Kamala Harris. But no one is as good as Barack Obama. His entire Detroit speech is here, Barack Obama in Detroit. Watch the first minute to see Obama rap the opening lines from Eminem’s “Lose Yourself.”

Obama also directly attacked Trump while promoting Harris, saying:

The good news is Kamala Harris is ready for the job. This is a leader who has been fighting on behalf of people who need a voice. This is somebody who believes in the values of this country. [Trump claims he is tough.] That is not what real strength is — real strength is about working hard, showing up on the factory floor. . . . That is real strength and real strength is taking responsibility for your actions and telling the truth even when it's inconvenient, and helping people when they need it.

As Walz, Obama, and Eminem were turning up the intensity and enthusiasm, Trump was trying to drum up support among Latino voters by putting them to sleep in a two-hour speech. Rather than junk up this newsletter with an example of Trump's incomprehensible speech, see this example, linked in separate document.

As noted in the Washington Post, Trump's verbal mistakes and confusion are “more frequent . . . as he increases the pace of campaigning.” “More frequent” is code for “incessant.”

Trump's outreach to Latino voters comes as Jeff Goldberg writes in The Atlantic that Trump complained about the cost of a funeral for a female soldier murdered on a military base. See The Atlantic, Trump: ‘I Need the Kind of Generals That Hitler Had’

Per Goldberg in The Atlantic, Trump reacted to the cost of the funeral as follows:

Trump became angry. “It doesn’t cost 60,000 bucks to bury a f*cking Mexican!” He turned to his chief of staff, Mark Meadows, and issued an order: “Don’t pay it!” Later that day, he was still agitated. “Can you believe it?” he said, according to a witness. “F*cking people, trying to rip me off.”

Trump's spokesperson denied the report, as did Kash Patel. But Goldberg cites two people in the room as his source for the statement by Trump.

Also on Monday, Trump's Chief of Staff, former General John Kelly, described Trump as a fascist and said that Trump wants to be a dictator. See CNN Politics, Trump’s former chief of staff says he fits ‘fascist’ definition and prefers ‘dictator approach’.

Of course, to state the obvious (again), any of the above revelations would spell the end of the candidacy of any other presidential contender. The fact that the Republican Party continues to ignore the blaring warning signals is a sign that it no longer exists as a political party with an ideology or purpose. It is an empty husk that has been occupied by a parasite using the host for grifting and corruption.

The mystery that will provide full employment for generations of historians is why so many Americans willingly embraced the con and spread the hate that fuels Trump's campaign. For now, we should take confidence from the fact that Kamala Harris is running to promote freedom and prevent tyranny—while news anchors ask “gotcha” questions that no one cares about. Ah, well! It is up to us! It always is!

Watch Jess Piper’s interview with Tom Vilsack.

Jess Piper interviews Tom Vilsack, Secretary of Agriculture, about the Harris/Walz plan for rural America. See Jess Piper in The View from Rural Missouri, The Official Harris/Walz Plan for Rural America.

If you are working to motivate voters in rural America, this is a must-watch video that makes a compelling case for the Harris/Walz plan for rural America. I was shocked about the amount of information I did not know about how Harris/Walz would improve the lives of Americans in rural areas. Help spread the word to others while there is still time to move the needle.

The interview covers issues that affect rural America differently than urban areas, such as home ownership, land costs driving young adults away, school closures and mergers due to population declines, healthcare access, pheasant hunting and gun ownership, availability of childcare, volunteer fire departments, and access to groceries.

If you don’t subscribe to Jess Piper, I recommend that you check out her Substack, The View from Rural Missouri. Hers is in important voice both for rural America and for women. (See this moving essay, Red State Fear, about the special fear of being a woman in a red state.)

More good news in the election litigation front

The Georgia Supreme Court refused to grant expedited review of a lower court ruling blocking a rule that would have required a hand-count of all ballots. See Reuters, Georgia's top court will not fast-track appeal of US ballot hand-count rule.

Although the ruling does not dispose of the legal challenge to the hand-count rule, it effectively blocks implementation of the rule for the November election. While an appeal to the US Supreme Court is possible, it would be astonishing for the Court to intervene in a question of state law, especially two weeks before an election.

As Marc Elias of Democracy Docket has noted, we must distinguish between the ability of Republicans to file frivolous lawsuits and the likelihood of success of those lawsuits. The mere fact that MAGA extremists harbor “suspicions” about voter fraud is not sufficient to invalidate the outcome of elections in a county or state. The remedy for fraud relating to specific votes is invalidating those votes—and no others.

Sadly, news media report new lawsuits with ominous overtones suggesting chaos but rarely note the dismissal of those same lawsuits. The fact is that voter fraud is vanishingly rare in America—despite the proliferating number of lawsuits filed by Republicans. The fact that fraud is vanishingly rare means that virtually all of those lawsuits will be disposed of quickly.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

#Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter #Robert B. Hubbell #news media #journalism #election 2024 #a clear and present danger #Vilsak #John Kelly #US Military #Jeff Goldberg #fascism

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aronarchy · 7 months ago

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The extent of Russia’s influence in Sudan goes beyond its involvement in the current war. It’s not only fueling war in Sudan but it’s the reason Russia is able to continue its war in Ukraine and other places despite being sanctioned by the West. Russia is surviving western sanctions by exploiting, smuggling gold and aiding the Sudanese Transitional Military Council (TMC) in the suppression of the pro-civilian led government movement.

In 2014, Putin was vocal about creating an economic plan to circumvent potential Western sanctions tied to the Ukraine war. By 2017, they began extending lifelines to autocrats, and unsurprisingly, former Sudanese President Omar Al-Bashir joined Putin’s economic pipeline. After a meeting between the two presidents, Russian geologists and mineralogists employed by Meroe Gold arrived in Sudan.

The Russian companies, including Wagner, a private military company linked to Russia and frequently engaged in conflicts worldwide, began establishing a presence in Sudan. Notably, Wagner leader is under US sanctions, accused of meddling in the 2020 US elections. In 2020, under Trump administration, the group was sanctioned for its heavy exploitation of Sudan’s natural resources. The exploitation was so evident that they literally had to be sanctioned by Trump, which is quite surprising.

In 2019, following Al-Bashir’s overthrow, Wagner transitioned to striking deals with the Rapid Support Forces militia general, Hemeti. This militia, formerly known as Janjaweed and implicated in the Darfur genocide, received weapons and training. Wagner, in return, gained access to smuggled gold and devised plans to maintain control, ultimately contributing to today’s proxy war in Sudan.

The method of gold smuggling involved disguising it as flying cookies and concealing the smuggled gold beneath Russian cookie boxes. 🤣

In 2022, @/nimaelbagir a Sudanese journalist and CNN’s Chief International Investigative Correspondent went to a Russian owned gold mining facility in Sudan. Watch her report here ⬇️

Full report here:

In June 2022, the Darfur Bar Association (DBA) launched an investigation and confirmed Wagner mercenaries presence in South Darfur after its attack on gold miners in South Darfur. The investigation also revealed that the Transitional Military council (SAF+RSF) knew about the presence of Wagner in Sudan and in 2019 a copy of the report was actually sent to then prime minister Hamadok.

The DBA investigation also revealed how the UAE is involved in Sudan and its role in the current war. There’s also an extensive investigation report on the role of the UAE in Sudan by the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal that proves the UAE involvement in Sudan.

How are the UAE and Russia linked you might ask?

1) Most Sudanese gold passes through the United Arab Emirates. Unofficial data from the United Arab Emirates reported that over $1.7bn of Sudanese gold landed in Dubai in 2021, just under half the value of all the country’s exports. But there is little accurate data tracking it after it arrives in the UAE (arrives via Russia). Most industry exports reckon that official figures account for less than a quarter of total gold sales. Khartoum’s central bank recorded gold exports of 26.4 tonnes from January to September in 2021 but estimates over 100 tonnes would have been smuggled out during that period. (Africa Confidential)

Amdjarass, the Chadian town just across the Sudanese border, is the base from which the UAE is running an operation supposedly to help Sudanese refugees. But behind the façade of what the UAE maintains are humanitarian efforts, lies covert weapons, drones, and medical treatment to injured RSF fighters. (The Africa Report)

A U.S. Ally Promised to Send Aid to Sudan. It Sent Weapons Instead. (WSJ)

The New York Times report on how the UAE is further involved ⬇️

2) In April 2023, following the onset of the war in Sudan, the Wagner group was exposed by CNN for allegedly supplying missiles to the RSF in their conflict against the Sudanese armed forces (SAF). The arms came through the UAE under the guise of humanitarian aid for Sudanese refugees in Chad. These armaments were destined for the UAE’s local proxy, the RSF, in Sudan’s western region. In addition, CNN exposed that the shipments of surface-to-air missiles provided by Wagner were destined for the RSF via flights shuttling the hardware from Latakia, Syria, to Khadim, Libya, and then airdropped to northwestern Sudan, where the RSF enjoys a strong presence. This support from Wagner is considered a significant factor contributing to the RSF’s continuation of the war and their reported atrocities against Sudanese civilians, including killing, looting, sexual violence, and mass destruction of Sudan’s infrastructure.

The satellite images from CNN and the open-source group “All Eyes On Wagner,” provide evidence of an escalated Wagner presence at the bases of Khalifa Haftar, the leader of a Libyan militia supported by Wagner, in Libya. This heightened presence was purportedly in preparation to assist the RSF militia against the SAF.

Full report here:

3) There is evidence that the UAE has been funding Wagner in Libya to help reduce the financial burden on Russia for its Libyan operations and has been deploying these forces to prop up its ally, General Khalifa Haftar, who has been fighting the UN-recognized Government of National Accord in Tripoli. The report that the UAE is funding Wagner in Libya actually came from the US department of defense, which again is a surprise considering the close alliance of the US and the UAE.

East Africa Counterterrorism Operation, North and West Africa Counterterrorism Operation Quarterly Report to Congress, July 1, 2020‒September 30, 2020

#repost of someone else’s content #twitter repost #sudan #keep eyes on sudan #sudanese genocide #uae #russia #putin #wagner #rsf #proxy war #genocide #free sudan #liberate sudan

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xreaderbooks · 2 years ago

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The Shadows of Our Love |5|

Chapter 5 | In the Shadow of Truth

Pair: Sebastian Sallow x Reader, Platonic! Ominis x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Language, mentions of blood purity

Summary: Y/n and Ominis have a conversation

Playlist

Available on Wattpad and AO3

Chapter 4 - Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 6

Multicolored puffskeins were at your feet, bouncing on your legs and vying for your attention, much like the rest of the beasts in the forest vivarium. You spent your Thursday afternoon in the Room of Requirement after a frustrating class on Ancient Runes, at this point, you didn't know why you had signed up for the bloody class. You overestimated your ability to pay attention, thinking that your slight interest in the subject would mean you would actually listen to the droning of the Professor.

The time you spent with your beasts as a form of procrastination was therapeutic, alas, your time was ending and you would have to do your homework for potions soon.

You fed and pet every single one of the exotic creatures to the point where you had feathers and fur all over you. It wasn't until Deek had emerged from the entrance to tell you that you had a letter, that you let out a heavy breath and decided to stop lingering.

With your final goodbyes to your adorable animals, you stepped through the portal back to the large room where the house elf handed you the letter.

Y/n,

Whenever you are available, I would like to study with you in the Undercroft. I will be skipping dinner waiting for your arrival.

Ominis

Interesting...

You and Ominis were on speaking terms, more than just classmates but not exactly besties on the level that he and Sebastian were on. It pleased you to know that he wanted to hang out, officially, that is.

The two of you had a bit of a rough start in the beginning, especially with the way you enabled Sebastian at times with his quest to save Anne, you wouldn't have and didn't blame him for his response to everything that went down so you were happy to refresh the page and start anew.

You changed into a different set of robes and sprayed yourself with your floral-scented perfume to hide the stench of the animals you spent half the day with.

~~~

"Knock knock," You voiced out into the secret room as the metal gates to the Undercroft shut with a clamber.

"Y/n?" Ominis said on a wooden desk he must have conjured since it wasn't there before.

"I must say I was quite surprised to receive your owl, Omi," You walked over to him and settled your writing tools for the essay you were going to force yourself to work on.

His eyes narrowed at the nickname.

"Right, that was weird," You cringed and slid into the seat across from him. "Sorry, wanted to try it out."

"Not your best, I must say," His lips quirked upward. "Shall we get started?"

"We shall," You unrolled the scroll of parchment and your advanced potions textbook. "What are you working on?"

"Practice test for Charms, Professor Ronen just assigned it today but I want to get it done as soon as possible, who knows when the man will spring up his practice quiz."

You were familiar with Professor Ronen and his spontaneity, always the one to make sure his students were actually paying attention in his class, he would give you a practice exam to review and give you all homework credit for it but it was also a warning for his pop quizzes he frequently liked to give.

"Oh! I have mine with me if you'd like to just copy off mine and study later?" You offered. You brought your satchel with all the books of assignments you have and have not completed.

Ominis appeared thoughtful and declined, "That's alright, I prefer to study the material given to me actually. It was kind of you to offer."

"Not at all," You smiled at the fact that you were getting to know little details like this about Ominis.

~~~

A full hour of work, the Undercroft echoed with the scribbles of your quills on parchment and the turning of textbook pages. Not at all as awkward as you thought it was going to be when you were heading over here.

The only times you would talk to Ominis were when you were both surrounded by people, in the Great Hall or in class, the both of you gravitated toward each other in a room full of classmates who hadn't been through the same experiences and grief- all thanks to Sebastian.

You thought that being alone with him without Sebastian's impending doom looming over the both of you, would be tense but it hasn't been.

Ominis worked on his assignment, while you worked on yours- 12 inches of parchment on Everlasting Elixirs. It was due next week Monday and you knew that you had to get started on it somehow if not, by the time you actually put the effort in, it would take you til the morning of the due date to finish.

That was stress you did not need when you were already worried about sodding Ancient Runes class.

"Is something the matter, Y/n?" Ominis broke the silence.

"W- Yes, I am." You were surprised by the question, "Do I not seem alright?"

"You're very quiet, well you are quiet but you're thinking so much, I can almost hear it." He chuckled lightly as he said it. "As a matter of fact, you've been quite pensive these past few weeks."

"Have I?"

"I'm blind Y/n, that does not mean that I do not notice such things." He sits up straighter, "Your other friends may not have seen it, that lot has always been more extroverted but so were you, last year. Not as much but still I can feel it when I'm around you, it's as if you're less enthused."

You rolled your eyes with a smile, he cared. It was a little bit of a shock to know that he did but it warmed your heart.

"I have a confession to make," He started.

"Do tell," You placed your elbows on the table and leaned in, curiously awaiting.

"You mustn't tell anyone," He says with a stern tone. "Not even Sebastian."

You snorted in an unladylike manner, "Done."

He inhales, and confesses, "I'm a legilimens."

Your face contorted in confusion, your silence gave it away before you had to ask what that was. You had only been a part of the Wizarding world for a school year, you didn't know much besides what you had encountered and learned about last year.

"It's a person who can read the thoughts of others, I can look into your mind and find your deepest memories, even read your thoughts at present if I wanted to."

"Are you trying to tell me that you read my mind?" You didn't know how you felt about that. "That's what all the concern is about."

"I- Well, no. I wasn't lying when I said I felt the way your energy has changed. It's not something I can control or practice often, though I should."

"Is it something that you learned or were you born with it?" Had he always been able to do that and just now said something because he heard something that drew him to be worried?

"Wizards and Witches can learn and master it but for me, it was a trait passed down from my ancestor, I choose not to use the ability," His voice was tight as he explained. "Your thoughts were loud, I didn't mean to intrude, I'm telling you this because I want to trust you. I want you to trust me as well. I know you and Sebastian are still not speaking-"

"I was wondering when you were going to bring him up," You sighed. "How is he, by the way? Since we're on the subject."

"He's Sebastian, complicated and stubborn" He answered. "This was never about him, point is, I've noticed over the course of a few weeks that you haven't been yourself and was wondering if there was anything I can do to assist."

You crossed your arms and leaned on the back of your chair, "While I appreciate the concern, I am quite alright, Ominis."

"You know, Sebastian and Anne have been a better family to me than my actual blood. They had no hate in their hearts, they held no judgment on me and the beliefs of my family." He cleared his throat, "I was gutted at what had happened to Anne and the path that Sebastian took to try and save her. That drove a wedge between him and me, as you've witnessed. Dark magic is not something I could ever resort to, you know this, ever. Not even for someone I consider a brother, so trust me when I say I meant no offense when I heard your thoughts."

"I know, Ominis," You said in a light tone to ease his mind. You weren't upset at him for accidentally reading your mind, it caught you off-guard and you were just grateful you weren't thinking something embarrassing.

"So your parents are racist," you joked to ease the tension. "To be expected with the whole Slytherin thing, pureblood supremacy and all that, obviously not your thing."

"A never-ending fight," He exhaled. "I never asked- not that it matters but where are you from?"

"I'm muggle-born," You shrugged. "I had shown signs of having some magical ability when I was a child but my parents were visibly uncomfortable whenever I showed signs so I just held it in, kind of trained myself to ignore the urges, and even went to a muggle primary and secondary school."

His eyebrows quirked at the information, how different the two of you are.

You continued, "It got to the point where I just couldn't hold it anymore and everything just burst out of me. At the worst time, might I add, in the middle of the class- everyone fell out of their desks. I was nervous for a presentation and everyone was overwhelming me with questions, With all the build-up from never being released, I just exploded. Freaked my parents out, by some miracle of fate, I heard a pair of wizards buzzing on about Hogwarts and so I wrote a letter to Professor Black and here I am."

Ominis blinked, processing the information, "Fate was right to bring you here. I'm not my parents but just be glad you're in Slytherin, that's the only prejudice I will take part in though you do spend a great amount of time with Gryffindors, I'm not so sure the sorting hat made the right choice."

You reach over the table and push his shoulder lightly, he laughed breathlessly in his seat.

"I'll have you know, a Gryffindor could never get out of the skirmishes I have, and that's all thanks to my cunning."

"Or sheer luck," He murmured.

You tossed your quill at his chest, "Oh, stuff it."

~~~

Chapter 6

Leave a comment or Message if you'd like to be tagged

Taglist:

@vanivivs - @aqueennia

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borisbubbles · 6 months ago

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Eurovision 2024: #36

36. FINLAND Windows95Man - "No Rules!" 19th place

youtube

Decade ranking: 143/153 [Above Nadir, below Let3]

Okay so, I promised in Saturday's post that I would try to be positive, but I may already have to rescind on that promise lol. (the "lol" is for punctuation because I definitely did not laugh.) "No rules!" stinks and has very few redeeming qualities. 🙂 Natalia was right, she WAS robbed by a Nudist Demon!

For real, does anyone over the age of twenty-five enjoy this dumpster fire? If so, fukk meee. LOVE YOURSELVES.

As I noted in my UMK review back in Feb:

I have difficulty buying into this hyperactive ball of bad taste. “Fuck The System” always feels like the go-to message of individuals that fail to fit into social structures that aren’t fully of their own shaping. For an entry that’s all “live as you like, there’s no rules!” in its messaging, these two look like they conform to just about every styling and behavioural rule associated with Zoomer culture: A total disregard for general aesthetics over a dumbed-down drone of a beat because everything is ironic and nothing is to be taken seriously. It is a depressing take on life. Yeah sure, a bit of camp levity is welcome in this loathesome world, but any happy song that weaponizes irony like this one trends towards encouraging irresponsibility, cynicism and nihilism. Some things DO matter in life, you know? You need to afford your bills and groceries, charge your social batteries, cultivate your friendships, or else you’ll wind up living alone in a van, down by the river. But if the latter life appeals to you, then this is the entry for you, I guess. For me though; this contest is already has one Joost Klein. Let’s not add a second one from Finland.

Funny how I nailed that even before knowing the full extent of it. I ofc vastly underestimated how bad the live would be, and as soon as I'd seen it my scepsis immediately supernova'd into intense HATRED. If ONLY "Paskana" hadn't been weak as piss. Yes, the cringe in "No Rules!" is deliberate, obviously, I have a sense of humour. Having a sense of humour is why I hate it? How much "deliberated cringe" can one tolerate before concluding "nope, this is r o t t e n." Does it start with

THE BAD GUNTER IMPRESSION?

THE DONALD DUCKING?

CALLING HIMSELF" A QUEEN"?

screaming "SEE ME SLAYYYY" :proceeds to not slay: ?

It definitely ends in whatever this shot is supposed to be.

Humour is subjective sure enough, and Windowsninetycringeman's jokes fall flatter than a pancake á moi. Why is everything denim? Why is this THIRTY-NINE YEAR OLD MAN still engaging in toilet humour and internet speak? Grow the f up? The art lies in the execution and Finland showed neither. I do NOT like Europapa much, but having Finland and not Netherlands in the final vibes wrong on so many levels. Europapa at least had a clear plan and delivered its nonsense in contained, piecemeal doses? It was COMPETENT in what it attempted to be (A Televote Winner), not a lazy amalgation of simple-minded drunk jokes strung together over a Planet of The Bass megamix as some sort of a Hail Mary. Joost and Teemu represent the Expectations/Reality divide of Zoomer Nonsense and it was darksided that only the latter got to compete for points. But on top of that, Teemu was generally just full of shit? Hooray, an Old Millennial engaging in Zoomer Cringe who lets an actual zoomer do all the vocal heavy lifting, without giving him a single featuring credit. Yay! It's a painfully accurate depiction of what being a zoomer is like, but not an intentional one.

Also remember when Teemu said he would "try to discreetly approach the other contestants to find ways to show support for Palestine" (remember that this contest was supposed to be 'not political'?) Hm yes discreet. So discreet he declared his intentions to interviewers so that everyone would know it was HIS idea. "Discreet", human please. And the result of all that talk was...

(lol I'm SO making it sound like I care about what political standpoints any of these acts took, and I don't. But I do call out a fraud when I spot one.)

Yeah well thanks for trying, but I'd rather you hadn't. A statement you can apply to my feelings of the entry overall. Okay, we've reached full circle, time to move on to our designated palate cleanser because THIS page is a safe zone for people of good taste.

youtube

The universe where YLE overrules the results and sends THEM to ESC is the one where we head to Helsinki twice in a row.

THE RANKING

#BorisBubbles #Eurovision #Eurovision Song Contest #ESC #Eurovision 2024 #ESC 2024 #Finland #Windows95man #No Rules!#Henri Piispanen #Teemu Keisteri #Youtube

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imitationgame77 · 5 months ago

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ART and Iris making a good team to support Murderbot

System Collapse

Towards the end (Chapter ten) when Muderbot is guiding Iris, Tarik and Leonide in the pitch-black hanger towards the platform so that ART-drone and Ratthi in the shuttle can come and get them, while there is a heightened risk of B-E SecUnit(s) attacking from anytime from anywhere:

Tha landing platform with the pseudohopper on it was the closest high spot, and a quick review of the video the drones had taken on the way in here showed the access stairs were intact. Also it would give them something to take cover behind. I sent Iris and Tarik an image of it, with more detail than they could see with unaugmented vision. We’re going to this one, with the aircraft, I told them. When we get there, start climbing. I’ll cover you.

With no drones and no cameras I had to look at them to make sure they were listening and just to see what they were doing. They didn’t move immediately, and it stretched .04 seconds past the point where even a human would have reacted by now. ART-drone said, There is no time to waste, move now. And I think it added something to Iris on her private feed.

Iris said, Right, let’s go. SecUnit, we’ll wait for you up top.

I know they will, which is why I’m willing to die to get them up there.

(System Collapse, Kindle Edition, p.218). T

I have wondered about what ART-drone said to Iris on her private feed. ART might have told her to be brave and trust SecUnit. That it will protect her and others with everything it has. Even without drones and a large projectile weapon, SecUnit is still a better fighter than standard SecUnits whatever the make. This was a scary situation where they will have to risk being exposed for attack. But ART's total trust in Murderbot may have been enough to convince Iris. ART trusts Murderbot and Iris trusts ART.

And I also wonder if Iris picked up on ART's love and trust for its friend and added that "we'll wait for you up top." ART and Iris are like siblings. She does not need to remember the "bombing the colony" declaration to know that ART cares about Murderbot as much as it cares about her.

And this is the part where Murderbot finally understands that they will be waiting for it. That they all care about it deeply.

"I know they will, which is why I’m willing to die to get them up there." is a very moving scene.

#the murderbot diaries #murderbot #perihelion #asshole research transport #system collapse

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usafphantom2 · 3 months ago

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Air Force “Starting At The Beginning” With NGAD 6th Gen Fighter Requirements Review

Signs that big changes are coming to the USAF's NGAD combat jet plans, or that the program may be supplanted entirely, are growing.

Joseph Trevithick Posted on Sep 4, 2024 3:52 PM EDT

Lockheed Martin

The U.S. Air Force is re-examining the very core of its requirements for a new sixth-generation stealth combat jet as part of its ongoing review of that element of the larger Next Generation Air Dominance (NGAD) initiative. The service also says the reassessment touches on broader questions about the full mix of capabilities it expects to use to achieve air superiority in the future.

Air Force Vice Chief of Staff Gen. James Slife and Andrew Hunter, Assistant Secretary of the Air Force for Acquisition, Technology & Logistics, talked about the NGAD combat jet and related issues during a live-streamed talk at the 2024 Defense News Conference earlier today. The Air Force confirmed in July that it put its sixth-generation tactical aircraft plans on hold amid budgetary pressures and questions about the underlying requirements. The service has insisted that it is still planning on eventually pushing forward with this effort in some form, though what the aircraft might look like in the end, including whether or not it will ultimately require a pilot, has already been increasingly uncertain.

A rendering of a notional sixth-generation stealth crewed combat jet. Collins Aerospace

“So, from a requirements perspective, what I would say is we’re going back and starting at the beginning with what is the thing we’re trying to do,” Gen. Slife explained. “And so you kind of get two different answers if you frame the question as ‘how do we conduct – how do we achieve air superiority in a contested environment?’ That would be one way to frame the question. A different way to frame the question would be, how do we build a sixth-gen manned fighter platform? I mean, those are not necessarily the same question, right?”

“And so we kind of go back to what is it we’re trying to do up front? And I don’t know exactly how we are going to achieve air superiority in a contested environment,” Slife continued. “It may involve a manned sixth-gen fighter platform, but we’re kind of going back and looking, you know, from the beginning.”

Since “when we did the initial Analysis of Alternatives for NGAD, … you know, frankly, our technology base has advanced in ways faster than we anticipated,” he added. “And so we see … capabilities that we have that perhaps we would want to be part of this mission space going forward that weren’t baked into … where we started with the NGAD system.”

Gen. Slife specifically highlighted questions about whether the current plans for the NGAD combat jet present a path to an aircraft that is best optimized to work with the Air Force’s planned future fleets of Collaborative Combat Aircraft (CCA) drones. This is something that Air Force officials, including Secretary of the Air Force Frank Kendall, have now highlighted on multiple occasions. The service’s number two officer also talked more generally today about the potential desire to incorporate new technologies into the aircraft in response to an ever-evolving threat ecosystem.

A rendering of a national sixth-generation crewed stealth combat jet flying together with a trio of drones. Collins Aerospace A rendering of a notional sixth-generation crewed combat jet flying together with a trio of drones. Collins Aerospace

The crewed sixth-generation combat jet component of NGAD traces its roots back to a requirement for what was originally termed a Penetrating Counter-Air (PCA) platform ostensibly to succeed the F-22 Raptor stealth fighter, which emerged publicly in the mid-2010s. This, in turn, was an outgrowth of work the Air Force had done in cooperation with the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA). Frank Kendall, now Secretary of the Air Force, was involved in those efforts, which he has said produced at least one flying demonstrator aircraft.

Before questions about its future began emerging earlier this year, the planned NGAD combat jet had already evolved into a much more capable, but also costly aircraft than the F-22, as The War Zone has explored in detail in the past. In July, Gen. Kenneth S. Wilsbach, head of Air Combat Command, said there is now currently no timeline for retiring the F-22.

“Our approach going forward is going to be [about things as] part of our force as a whole, right? So it’s it’s not any individual platform that’s going to deliver air superiority. It’s the entire force,” Assistant Secretary Hunter said today. “And we know that we have many things in our force that we will continue to have into the next several decades. We’re going to have an F-35 force. We’re going to have a F-15EX. We have F-22s. And so what is the role that we need to have to supplement… those capabilities that we will know will be resident in our force to deliver that full capability that we need.”

A row of F-22s, the aircraft the NGAD combat jet was ostensibly envisioned to replace. USAF

In talking today, Slife and Hunter both highlighted a broader shift within the Air Force toward a focus on ways to achieve core mission requirements rather than around specific platforms to meet those needs.

“We tend to get affixed by the prefix. You know, what I mean by that is, what can we do with airplanes that start with a C? We carry cargo because they start with a C. What do we do with airplanes that start with a B? Well, we drop bombs. Why? Because it starts with a B,” Gen. Slife said. “And, you know, in an Air Force where we have launched cruise missiles out of the back of C-17s [as part of a program called Rapid Dragon] and dropped people out of the bomb bay of… B-24s [during World War II] and things of that nature, I don’t even know what a cargo airplane is, or a bomber is, or a fighter is.”

“I know what the mission that we have to get done is, but I don’t know that we need to build an airplane to do the mission,” he continued. “We need to build a system that can do the mission.”

“I think it definitely prioritizes towards having flexibility in our approach … not being over-specified for any particular problem set or any particular approach to the problem set,” Slife added about this mindset.

Slife and Hunter highlighted the CCA program’s iterative development approach as an example of this way of thinking. General Atomics and Anduril are currently developing drones as part of work on an initial tranche of CCAs, also known as Increment 1, focused primarily on the air-to-air combat mission.

A rendering of General Atomics’ CCA design. General Atomics

An artist’s conception of Fury, the design Anduril is now developing further as part of the CCA Program’s Increment 1. Anduril An artist’s conception of the CCA variant of the Fury drone. Anduril

“So what should Increment 2 be? Do not assume and it may not be just an evolution of Increment 1. It could be an entirely different set of missions. Could be [an] entirely different kind of an aircraft,” Hunter said. “And so part of that initial work is, again, starting with a large vendor pool, what are the good ideas out there? We’ll have some ideas [about] what we think Increment 2 needs to do as part of a broader force, and that’s part of this broader look at air dominance and how we’re going to deliver that.”

The Air Force says whatever CCA designs it picks for any of the program’s increments that additional companies could be brought in to help produce them at scale. The service has assembled a larger pool of vendors to provide subsystems and otherwise support that effort, as well.

“We want to see what good ideas industry has so we don’t box out things that might be the right path forward, because we started by asking the wrong question,” Hunter added.

It’s interesting to note here that Air Force Gen. David W. Allvin, Chief of Staff of the Air Force, spoke about the importance of iterative development, and a vision for the acquisition of aircraft going forward focused on “building to adapt” rather than “building to last,” at the Global Air and Space Chiefs Conference in London earlier this year. Allvin’s talk was backed by a presentation that included a graphic created using generative artificial intelligence, seen below, showing a notional light stealth fighter concept. Though described as being for illustrative purposes only, this was still a very interesting visual to see amid these ongoing discussions around the future of the NGAD combat jet, as The War Zone has previously explored.

YouTube Capture

The comments today at the Defense News Conference also put remarks about the status of the NGAD combat jet that Gen. Allvin made during a talk at the Hudson Institute think tank last month into a new light.

“I want to clarify that, just because specifics and words matter. It’s the pause on the NGAD Penetrating Counter-Air platform. NGAD stands for Next Generation Air Dominance. It’s not a thing. It is a family of systems. Within that NGAD family of systems is Collaborative Combat Aircraft, is the open systems and government reference architecture, is some of the sensors that we’re developing, is some of the [other] technology. So all of those, that family of systems, is still going forward,” Allvin said at that time. “We want to make sure we evaluate that [the NGAD combat jet requirements] versus others, given the pace of the threat and how fast the threat has evolved, versus the imagined or estimated threat at the time it was being developed. And so I don’t have an announcement as to whether there’s going to be a contract award at the end of the year or not, but the rationale for the evaluation is because … we want to make sure that we don’t do something that’s a one-way door when we haven’t really looked at that design in the context of all the other things that it makes [sic; takes] to meet the requirement.

Concerns about at-best flat-lining defense budgets in the coming years together with ballooning costs associated with critical programs, especially the new Sentinel intercontinental ballistic missile and its associated infrastructure demands, are also putting pressure on Air Force modernization plans across the board. It has been projected in the past that a single NGAD combat jet could cost roughly three times that of a stealthy F-35 Joint Strike Fighter, or around $250 million based on publicly available data.

“I wouldn’t rule anything out, but I also wouldn’t rule anything back in,” Gen. Slife said today.

While the future of the NGAD combat jet continues to be very uncertain, signs are growing that the Air Force could move to complement or even supplant its previous plans to acquire those aircraft with one or more other platforms.

Contact the author: [email protected]

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commenter2 · 3 months ago

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"Absolute End" review (Murder Drones finale)

After almost 3 years since the first episode, we are sadly at the end of Murder Drones. SPOILERS!

I thought the finale would be longer, at least the same length as the previous episode.

Gravity is acting up and massive earthquakes are happening, which I bet the drones can handle BUT UZI GETTING AN A-, that is a sign that the world is ending.

Even at the end of the world, the Teacher Drone is just done with everything.

Is CYN pulling a Dead Space 3?

Again the Teacher is just done.

So how did Uzi get into space exactly? Last episode had her falling down to the hole in the church to the planet’s core, did gravity and the Absolute Solver program cause her to go straight through the planet and fly into space?

Smart thinking on the writers here having Uzi and her mom be able to control space rocks, as they such things do have metal in them.

New feature for screen faces, they can use it to communicate if there isn’t any sound.

How is Uzi’s mom finding all the space for her words? :3

A nice mother/daughter moment, also Uzi has a parental lock XD.

Of course Uzi’s mom still has her iPod XD

Who is that! Whoever that is, let’s just hope Uzi’s mom doesn’t survive planetary re-entry

N! Wait how was he able to get to a ship so fast?

PILOT N! Wait does he remember how to fly that thiAPPARENTLY HE IS STILL REMEMBERING!

Wait are Uzi and N about to ki-SAVED BY THE VILLAIN! Ehh I was kind of hoping for Uzi X Thad and N X V to become canon but this is fine too...for now but more on that later. At least Uzi is still herself, though I question anyone who wouldn’t want to hug N.

It is still funny that the bus is also sentient in this series.

V! And of course she was able to tame one of the raptors.

“character not interested in epic battle that is occurring” trope.

GET THAT BRATTY TEEN DRONE ROBO DINO! I never thought I would ever say that.

Khan T posing XD

Clever robo girl! Wait didn’t I already use that?

Uzi would have been so proud hearing V use her catchphrase, especially on J of all drones.

Uzi can make blast that can go through planets. Write that down Death Battle fans.

(Uzi and CYN fighting)

J; Want to get out of here?

V: Why?

CYN just caught Uzi attack like its nothing.

The world ending threat still loves a fool after all this time. Have I mentioned how great this show is?

Look at them protecting each other!

HOLY CRAP UZI!

Crap CYN is going pissed off yandere on N!

Okay we got it, N X Uzi is canon.

While nice to see V showing love for N, it was kind of a coward move of her to try and work with CYN/Absolute Solver again at this point.

Heh, I guess CYN has parental controls too XD.

Doorman with the universal door remote FTW!

Okay that was a dumb move on Thad’s part. Guess he just assumed Uzi was nearby given he has seen her around the Disassembly Drones every time they met.

(Uzi and V smile at each other)

MK ANNOUNCER: FRIENDSHIP!

An old time iPod in the future can survive the reentry of a planet, yet iPhones can’t survive a small fall from one’s hand to the ground without cracking in half.

According to the subtitles the song playing is AJ Dispirito song called “BiteMe”. Is this where Uzi got her catchphrase? Seeing how her mom acts, I wouldn’t be surprised if she sang that song as a lullaby to baby Uzi. The song is really good.

Friendly fire on CYN’s part. Then again if they can regenerate, is it really that bad?

(Me seeing Uzi stabbing N with pickaxe)

Yami Yugi voice: It’s not him!

N has a valid point, nice to see him getting his heart ripped out and almost eaten by his yandere stalker didn’t mess up his lovable personality.

Cheap move with the puppy dog eyes CYN. Then again it is canon that all dogs are immortal, so N could have attacked her without fear of killing any digital dogs.

NOW ISN’T A GOOD TIME TO BE MAKING THAT SPECIAL HANDSHAKE UZI AND N XD.

Now Uzi is just learning to tell apart holograms form the real thing! Admittedly that is a bit cheesy, but at least it led to that epic scene of her ripping out the CYN’s heart Mortal Kombat style.

Finally its OVE- what is that?

That fight scene must have been so expensive that they had to cut the color budget!

ZA WARUDO

I’m getting flashbacks to the Death Battle episode “Starscream vs. Rainbow Dash”.

So is eating the "Solver heart" going to make Uzi the new Absolute Solver master? Horror is one of the themes of this series, and “monster still being alive” is the genres most known tropes. Guess we’ll find out in the next 5 minutes.

Kind of hard to read the text coming up on Uzi’s face near the end. I can see NULL, escaped_data=sent, escaped_data=str_replace [arry] and escaped_data=str_replace[global entites]. This sounds like it isn’t the end of CYN and her Absolute Solver control.

Who knew Thad was a skater! Also where did he get that skateboard? Still nice to see him being nice, even if its towards Lizzy.

Khan and Nori are going to meet. Okay THAT scene was hilarious, and that “kind of hot” line XD.

The Teacher survived, still not wanting to get involved in anything XD.

A robot raptor riding a sentient bus. Thank god the Jurassic Park movies are done as I feel like that franchise would try and do something dumb like that in their movies.

Uzi is very far from where she was a second ago. Again what is up with teleporting in this series?

So Uzi is the new absolute solver master. Luckily she doesn’t want to kill everything like CYN wanted. Then again it’s pretty much confirmed that all humans are dead so what else can she do, kill the worker drones?

Was that a Gaz Membrane reference in the “I’m not solved” pic. Also the pic file is labeled as “nothing”, which makes me wonder if the writers are again telling us that there won’t be any more episodes. Again more on that at the end.

The Heroes journey pic. Wait is that text a refence to when Game Theory did an episode where they used said Heroes’ Journey pic to theorize what was going to happen?

So are the others drones not going to find a way to cure N, V, and likely Uzi’s need to drink drone oil?

Doll is still dead. Odd to bring that clip up, but fitting with this show's humor.

N is pretty good at manga art. Also again nice seeing V being the one in love with N.

I wonder if there was going to be a difference between Uzi’s purple colored power and her yellow colored one. I guess we will never know.

During the credits we see: J is still alive and building a ship, likely to get back to JCJensonINSPAAAAACEE!!!!! HQ

N and Uzi hanging out with Khan and Nori (does Khan know it is her?) at door security. Is that really necessary now that nearly every serious baddie is dead?

A hint at the possibility of CYN still being alive. That or its Tessa’s ghost.

The Murder Drones are still killing drones for oil

A Murder Drones anime drawn in the same art style as Liam Vickers other works, like the underrated Cliffside pilot.

Lizzy being nice and holding a funeral for Doll. Thad your kindness is wasted on her.

V wearing N’s hat and playing chess against the raptor and the robo bug, which I totally forgot about. Looks like the raptor made peace with Lizzy too.

A callback to the 2nd episode with the robopede.

Hologram Uzi?

CYN IS THE TAIL! Personally I never did like the tail design, so it’s a good excuse to get rid of it now.

Cliffhanger ending. VERY FITTING FOR THIS SERIES! ALSO I KIND OF CALLED IT.

A very entertaining ending to a series that I wouldn’t mind getting a sequel series one day BUT has given me enough closure that I can be happy if it never does. Then again in this era of media you never know.

Sure it would have been nice if the show had been a few episodes longer, going over more things like dealing with other kinds of Disassembly Drones (something I was hoping to see since the very beginning) and more moments of unique character interactions like Uzi and Thad as well as N and V regaining their memories together.

Now that the series is over (again maybe for now) I wonder what Liam Vickers will work on next. PLEASE let him go back to work on his Cliffside series, as that has a lot of potential. After seeing how good he is at 3D animation, imagine what he can do with a 2Dish show like Cliffside! Seriously people go watch the Cliffside pilot when you can.

What were your thoughts on the Murder Drones finale?

#murder drones #glitch productions #liam vickers animation

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soranihimawari · 2 years ago

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Needle & Thread

An Azumane Asahi x reader short

Word count: 2.2k+

Rating:AAF (azumane asahi fluff)

Warnings: none, a little ooc moments from Sawamura & Suga//unspecified gender!// fluff

I just wanted to say perhaps Azumane having a crush is something I’d love to read about every once in a while. Also, this is how I think he hypes himself up mentally when yn is around

All was well in the home economics lecture hall at the community college you were attending this semester. The fashion course you had signed up for had been advertised as an introductory one and though you may have been one of the youngest designers among your peers, yet your desk mate was another student definitely from another part of your city.

You were always intrigued by both his designs as much as he was enamored with your use of unique materials when you had much simpler projects due. Perhaps it was your use of felt and wirework that inspired him to create an ornate jewelry set for that week and maybe he inspired you to create a three piece suit in hunter green and navy. You each had received praise from both your peers as well as the professor who hummed with a curt smile during the review.

Now, as the chimes on campus begin their late night tune to announce the hour, you settle into your seat and wonder about the young man whose seat has remained vacant for the second week in a row. It’s not like him to be absent, you wonder. Yet you recall him mentioning his volleyball team had won all necessary matches in their prefecture. Your professor drones on with the attendance list since art courses, especially design ones at that, where time is of the essence. Your sketchbook along with your personal tablet holds the keys of the past designs you had breathed into existence. As your attention is drawn back to the front of the classroom’s whiteboard, a singular word was written there: BIRDS.

The hell are we supposed to do with this? You think. Funnily enough, as you were zoning out, your hand had already picked up the stylus and you had already begun making several shapes that resembled crows’ feathers. The fact you remembered your deskmate had a little white crow plush on his sewing fabric bag to show ‘school pride’ must have been the silver lining when you continued to sketch a few more key components for the dress you will attempt to create.

An hour goes by and pretty soon you had a more refined sketch of the completed outfit. Your professor stops by your desk as you add a few more details thus tapping their index finger on the desk to announce their presence. You slower your stylus strokes of color to give your professor your undivided attention.

“Fascinating design as always,” they say.

“Thanks,” you reply. Holding up your tablet, you give a brief summary of the birds you chose to showcase with the completion of the project.

“Hmm… a crow and a pheasant, huh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking maybe adding some hints of sapphire satin or even amethyst tulle to the bodice…”

“Given your design, I suggest a more pliable fabric, but if sophisticated chic is what you were aiming for, try playing with nylon and pleather fabrics for those details,” was their advice.

You nod.

“By the way, y/n,” the professor pauses before moving on to the next workstation. “I heard Azumane-san’s team won against Inarizaki today. You ought to text him later.”

You feel the blush creeping up the back of your neck as you realize your professor’s intention on feeding you that intel. Your brain seems to have short circuited as you hear their voice give other advice a few work stations ahead. Nervously swallowing the pooled saliva in your mouth, you feign a cough as you shake your head side to side to reset your focus.

Class wraps up about twenty or so minutes later. On the train ride home, you decide to search the intramural results. There in the black white newspaper sports pages for the Tokyo City News you see the results from today’s match. You swipe that article away and immediately open your text message chain with Azumane, A.

It’s forty-five minutes post the Karasuno coaches’ “Light’s Out” call when suddenly Azumane’s phone lights up with your name flashing across the screen. He immediately picks up though the others the ace shares the room with suddenly scramble to take possession of his phone.

“Oh ho? Is that text from the illustrious y/n?” Sugawara wriggles his eyebrow.

“Or is it from your mom this time reminding you to buy her a souvenir?” Sawamura teases in a light hearted tone.

The fact Sugawara brings up your name so casually causes Azumane’s ears to sort of turn a magenta hue.

“And so what if it’s y/n?”

He unlocks his phone to read the texts you sent him. The first was fine:

-Y/L/N, Y. (23:13): Professor Z told me you had a game today. Missed having you in class tonight. Congrats on winning against Inarizaki! :]

His phone vibrates in his hands again after staring at your text for about five more minutes. There is something about your cheerful demeanor radiating over there words you sent that make Azumane’s face flush—perhaps when he returns to class he’d muster up the courage to ask you to walk home together. Maybe even pick up some hot cocoa at the combini near the train station by the college.

-Y/L/N, Y. (23:25): Been home for about an hour or so now. You must be tired. Is it too late to call?

“So, before you mentally shut down for the night Asahi,” Sugawara sits up on his mat with his arms crossed over his chest. “What did your crush say this time?”

“Suga!” Sawamura used his eldest sibling's tone this time thus forcing a playful yet sincere apology to come from the vice captain. “Ya can’t just blurt out facts like that aloud. I mean sure our Asahi is tall, devilishly handsome, and our charming ace finally has someone who caught his eye…”

“Y/N w-wants to call me,” Azumane’s voice is a mixture of excitement and nerves. It’s eerily similar to the first time he attended practice again in the dingy gym back on campus, yet glancing back to the way he was then versus now. He slides his phone in his pajamas pocket while reaching for his hoodie at the foot of his bed.

With an abrupt and politely uttered, “I’m headed out for a bit.” Azumane grabs his hoodie and slides the balcony door open. He slips on a pair on house slippers as well. Tokyo and the neighborhood they’re staying in seems to glow in the wintery haze. Once the door is closed behind him, Azumane taps his reply. He presses the green arrow only to be greeted with a delivered message under his reply. A couple minutes go by as the winter wind whistles through the barren tree branches in surrounding the hoteru when a familiar ringtone designated just for you reaches his ears.

Meanwhile, Sugawara and Sawamura updates the rest of the team of their ace’s latest installment rightfully dubbed by Yamaguchi: ‘love but make it fashion’. Even Kiyoko and Hitoka-chan were included in this team chat. Though by now most of the team had begun to drift off one by one prior to Azumane dialing your number.

Azumane breathes your name with a visible puff of air.

“Asahi,” there’s a cheerful register in your tired voice. It’s like a warm invitation to stay awake for a little while longer. “I’m surprised you’re still awake at this hour. Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?”

“Yeah, but I figured you could fill me in on what I missed in class today?”

“Oh,” you sound a bit disappointed. “Professor’s word today was BIRDS. It’s the theme for the next project.”

“Ah, I see.”

You hum into the receiver. “You played a really great game today. Saw some highlights on the late night sports recap on t.v. Almost makes me want to ditch classes tomorrow and cheer your team on, haha.”

He chuckles after regaining his composure because surely you’re flirting with him right now, yes? Absolutely.

“We play Nekoma next.”

You suppose it’s your turn to be a bit bold. A small smile tugs at your lips. You hear the wind whistling in the background.

“Is that an invitation I heard from my dear deskmate?”

“Yes.”

He hears you struggle with the sheets as you sit up bolt straight in your bed. A soft thud he imagines came from you clumsily hitting the back of your head on the wall by accident and a curse escapes your lips as you feel your heart beat increase.

“Smooth ass motherfucker,” you mutter through gritted teeth. “When do you play?”

Azumane on the other side leans against the railing trying to suppress his laughter. A few more minutes go by before your call ends with an open ended promise of attending the match in a few days time.

Come the morning, you awake with a bit of a headache. Your phone rests charging by the end table in your room along with a glass of water your parent typically leave behind before reporting for work. Across your bed on the wall located next to your computer desk is a rip off calendar themed with Chococat imagery. You realize you forgot to tear it off the night before, so as you mentally replay the conversation you had with your fashion course classmate, you hum blissfully to yourself until you pick up your phone with wide eyes.

“Oh shit!” you whisper yell into the air. “No way! It can’t be that late. Right? Arugh!”

Kicking off your sheets and tearing off the date off the calendar, you rush into the hallway to wash your face in the guest bathroom of your residence. Afterwards, you decide to dress rather quickly opting for the jeans and crew neck sweater along with a beanie to keep your ears warm when you leave. You knew attempting a day trip to Tokyo would be an ambitious endeavor, but if your parent can do it, so can you. You send a text quickly after sorting out a travel drawstring backpack complete with bottles of water, a few almond butter and jam sandwiches, your wireless headphones, your Canon AE-1 35mm camera, and external battery pack.

Leaving a note behind on the kitchen counter for your parent in case they would eventually blow up your phone like the first and last time you left for a day trip (to go shopping with materials at the beginning of the semester-long course) with a girl friend from your school.

The total amount of travel time to reach Tokyo, more specifically the sports arenas where the Intramural Spring Tournament for Volleyball was held, had been estimated to be a solid ninety-minute commute via trains. Apparently luck was on your side since most trains had been running on time. Renewing and purchasing the student monthly pass at the automated ticket kiosk had been a breeze and now you stand on the designated platform; you wonder if this rush of excitement and nerves will be as close as you’d ever feel to what Azumane felt when he (and by extension his team) walks on to the court. Once you arrive at your final stop (since your trip included two transfer trains), you walk off the up escalator and breathe the bustling capital city warming air. You see a sign for the local coffee haus: within a matter of fifteen minutes, you leave with a warmed bagel in a small brown bag and a cup of coffee. You follow a few cheerful students who came to cheer on their classmates; you figure you’re headed in the right direction when you bump into a voluptuous blonde who seems to have a very unique outfit despite the weather.

“Whoops, sorry miss,” you apologize as politely as you could.

The blonde raises an eyebrow at you as if to challenge you, then something changes in her demeanor as she extends her hand to you.

“You came to watch Karasuno beat Nekoma, right?”

You sip your coffee and nod. The bag with your bagel crinkles in your other hand.

“C’mon, I’ll take you to the arena where they’re playing. I’m gonna go cheer for my little brother,” she adds.

You bite into your bagel quickly before she calls out over her shoulder, “Tanaka Saeko. Call me Saeko-nei.”

“Y/L/N.”

The walk to the arena doors isn’t that far, nor is it too long. Saeko fills you in on what you had missed since the tournament began (or rather when she arrived with a few of the neighborhood ex-volleyball club members) to formulate the Karasuno cheer club. She had dubbed themselves that considering how the school was once considered powerhouse.

“Flightless crows?” you continue eating your bagel while pondering upon the insulting title. Saeko points to the banner hanging over the railing with the team’s motto: FLY. You crumple the now empty bag and toss it in the next trash bin while you still sip your beverage.

“Crows aren’t flightless creatures,” you mention to Saeko when she joins you in the second row of the bleachers. “They’re quite intelligent. Besides, a flock is known as a murder. How flightless were they?”

For once, the blonde remains quiet. She has a pensive look to her face, so much so that when other members of the neighborhood alumni come to join you two, one of them asks Saeko who you are.

“Oh, this is Y/L/N-san. They sort of bumped into me on the street on the way here, past the bakery. Mentioned they wanted to watch the match.”

“So you just tagged along?” the man with glasses and a kind smile asks. “Y’ know you shouldn’t really talk to strangers, haha.”

You shrug, mentioning that if it weren’t for his blonde friend you’d be even more lost and would probably be at the arena when a good chunk of the matches were done for the day. The man nods as he adjusts his glasses.

“I wanted to see what a classmate of mine does with his spare time. Attending fashion courses isn't cheap either,” you stick with the truth. “Besides, I go to a different school; one where a few of our sports team clubs were cut due to lack of funding. Unfortunately volleyball was one of them.”

“That’s awful, sorry to hear that,” the man continues. He turns to see Saeko busy conversing with another alum along with the rest of the drum line. “You want to sit here to stay a in the next section over? You might see your friend better from there.”

He points to the front row a few meters away close to the railing. It’s close enough to the side of the net where you would presume Azumane’s team would play.

Meanwhile, in the locker room provided for Karasuno today, an entirely different conversation was happening.

“Did Y/L/N contact you?” Nishinoya wonders.

“You better not freeze out there if you see ‘em,” Sawamura teases.

On the other side of the bench, two first years are having another tussle of words as well that had little and or nothing to do with trying to Azumane to calm down.

“Quit it boke!”

“You’re going to break my brain even more Bakayama!”

Azumane for the life of him decides to silence the room and his fellow teammates with a sharp squeak of confusion in a poor attempt to mask his incoming text tone. Funnily enough, though the majority of the club had already changed into their traditional ebony uniforms, hearing their ace squeak made them shut up rather quickly.

-Y/L/N, Y. (10:59): do your best. I know you and your team deserve to win, Azumane-san. Win or lose, you’re still an ace. [ : oh! And a damned good designer.

A strange sense of calm comes over Azumane when his shoulder receives a gentle yet affirming squeeze by Kiyoko who just nods with a small smile. Surely everyone knows of you, but considering how their friend currently stares at his sent reply to your message with a mere thumbs up emoji accompanied by a ‘Thenks’ line a child on the morning of their birthday, they knew they might need to cover for him for the first few plays of the match.

Lo and behold the telecasters begin their normal routine checks not too far from the court you’re standing above. The anchor men are having their microphones hooked on their lapels when a different chime to announce the hour goes off. You watch as both teams enter the court with to begin their warmup routines. It doesn’t take too long for you to open your bag to pull out your camera and watch as a few members of your classmate’s team take to the air to hit the airborne ball back over the net. Others on both sides of the court continue with their stretches. You snap a few photos here and there to test out the original settings, making adjustments as needed.

The game begins with a shrill call of a whistle. You hear the team chant and when you lower your camera for a split second, the player in the black jersey with a bright “2” on the front grabs Azumane’s attention; with a swift nod in your direction, your eyes meet briefly.

“Holy shit,” the ace who rarely curses suddenly becomes nervous all over again.

You just mouth out a quick “focus & excel,” with a raised fist.

And for once in his young adult life, Azumane Asahi chooses to embody the very definition of those words.

“Ready?” Sawamura asks him with a smirk.

“Let’s play,” Azumane chuckles preparing to receive the first serve of the match.

#🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #sora after hours #sora scrbbles 2023 #azumane asahi x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff

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forasecondtherewedwon · 9 months ago

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my how they fly

Fandom: Masters of the Air Rating: T Word Count: 1305

Summary: Bucky, Curt, and Buck wait out the fog.

So he didn’t wear out his welcome with his own crew, Bucky stowed his book and went wandering off into the fog. He heard Meatball’s bark once, off to his left, but he turned and saw nothing but the dense, wet air.

Gradually, he got voices, and when he thought they could hear his too, Bucky started in on “Blue Skies.” He rounded off the chorus as he stopped in front of Curt and Buck, awarding them a self-satisfied grin.

“It’s singin’ weather,” he announced.

Buck smiled indulgently.

“I can see why you got demoted.”

“Spoilsport,” Bucky accused. “I do it for your own good, Buck. For morale.”

“And ’cause you got a screw loose.”

Bucky’s grin broadened as he admitted, “Maybe so.”

“Heard youse guys had a good one while I was up in Scotland,” Curt broke in, watching them with a smile on his face. “Band, bikes, girls.”

“Your three favourite things,” Bucky observed.

“Not necessarily in that order.”

“You heard about John makin’ a fool— sorry,” Buck corrected himself with a smirk when Bucky thumped a hand to his heart, grasping at a phantom wound, “upholding morale, then, Curt?”

“I had ’em all on their feet!” Bucky claimed grandly.

“Yeah, because they were leaving. Trying to escape the racket.”

Bucky dismissed this review of his performance with a swatting wave.

“They were dancing,” he insisted to Curt.

“Can’t believe I missed it,” Curt groused.

“What’d you listen to that night? Bagpipes?”

“Bagpipes can really be a very sensual instrument. Nah, quit laughin’. That sort of whine… the drone… maybe, like, a wheeze? Christ, does it sound like I’m talkin’ about a plane engine?”

Bucky clapped him on the shoulder, lips tucked in as he braced the lieutenant for bad news.

“Sounds like you could do with spending less time in one of our forts and more time in a girl.”

“Or at least dancing with one,” Buck amended.

“Well, how ’bout you bring me up to speed while Bucky sings?” Curt proposed.

“Nah, I still don’t dance. Even with you, Curt.”

“You don’t gotta. I’ll do all the work.”

Curt grabbed for Buck’s hands, dancing toward and away from him.

“Music!” Curt demanded. “Music, please!”

But Bucky couldn’t sing while he was laughing so hard at Curt’s antics, the look on Buck’s face. Curt tried a twirl, raising Buck’s arm and twisting beneath it, the soles of his shoes grinding and crunching on the hardstand. When Buck still wouldn’t engage, despite the smile he was trying to hide, Curt gave him up and leapt at Bucky.

“Will ya?” he implored, lifting and shifting his feet in a sparky Lindy Hop.

“Been waitin’ for you to ask,” Bucky retorted.

They clasped hands, Curt’s left in Bucky’s right, and pranced together and apart.

“Bah duh duh bup bup bup bup ba-dah-dah-dah-dah dah dut duh,” Buck softly singsonged, launching into ‘In the Mood.’

“Oh, they’re playin’ our song, Curt!” Bucky cried out, passing his dance partner behind him, the two of them trying to keep a grip on each other’s fingers as Buck’s relatively tame accompaniment made them wild.

“Turn it up, Buck!” Curt shouted.

“Bah bah BAP buh-dah-duh!” Buck obliged, letting his voice carry as much as it could in the fog. “Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-dut, daaah, duh-duh-duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-dut, bah-daaah.”

“That’s the stuff!”

Bucky spun Curt away with a push to his lower back. They came back together with a skip. Bucky could forget for a minute, and he let himself. It was what he’d been trying to do with his book, reading with his back propped up against the wheels but pretending it was the trunk of a tree someplace. In war, he figured, you needed grit, but you also needed a whole lotta imagination—sometimes to picture the right outcome at the end of a bad day, a bad hour, and sometimes just to see you through the wait before it happened. If there was a dance hall anywhere, it was right there, right then, him and Curt warming each other’s clammy fingers, the fog in which they were ensconced making Buck’s horn section all velvety at the edges. It wasn’t bicycles around the mess, there wasn’t any microphone stand, but they were alive and light-footed, and Germany seemed so very far off.

They didn’t call it off until Curt crouched, hands on his knees, and tried to coax Bucky into jumping over him.

“Run on up, then hands on my shoulders there, Bucky. I seen loads a’ guys do it,” he coached.

Another time, Bucky would’ve tried it, hurled himself over Curt’s head in one rowdy leap of faith, but it was all getting clear again in the fog. He’d take serious shit if either of them hurt themselves right before takeoff. He knew he already had a reputation for being less serious than he oughta be, but he’d hate to be so careless that they promoted him back up the ranks and quit letting him fly again.

“Alright, alright,” Curt said, defeated. Buck had cut the music.

Bucky and Curt shook hands like gentlemen, though Curt waggled a finger at him and said, “You owe me a big finish. A flip or a dip or somethin’, if you ain’t gonna jump over my head.”

“I’ll give it some thought,” Bucky promised.

“Don’t know what you got them long legs for otherwise.”

“For wearin’ long pants, mostly.”

Though Curt grinned at the bad joke, Bucky felt like he’d let him down, like he should’ve made him laugh. Buck seemed quietly thoughtful, and Bucky sensed in himself a readiness to face the inevitable day ahead, but Curt was different. He swore he was the clear-sighted, level-headed member of his crew that day. Bucky should’ve taken him at his word. It would’ve been easier to—to say, We’re both fine ’cause we gotta be. How much harder to let himself notice in Curt’s restlessness his own better-concealed agitation about the lack of visibility, the complexity of lining up the three task forces, all the variables that stood between their planes on this runway and touching down on a distant Algerian base. Bucky didn’t like it, when it came down to it: he didn’t like the three of them going up at the same time.

They stood around together a minute more, maybe each telling themselves they’d stayed as long as they could, maybe thinking they’d stayed too long and would look, to their three separate crews, reluctant or scared. It was bad luck to say much of a goodbye, but when Curt tried to drift off with nothing more than a stiff nod in response to Buck’s pledge to see him in Algeria, Bucky caught him and patted him on the back.

“Next time we dance, we’re gettin’ sand in our shoes,” he said.

Curt’s smile crept back up, and Bucky released him.

“What about you?” he asked Buck when they were alone.

“I don’t dance on any continent.”

“Not that.”

Buck looked at him. The thing with asking Buck a question was that whether or not he answered it was beside the point; he’d hold you in his calm stare until you wondered what business you had asking, and how you might answer were the same question directed at you.

“I’m fine, John,” Buck said. He squinted slightly, and Bucky, finally feeling a little too looked-at, glanced away. “We’re both fine.” ’Cause we gotta be.

Bucky nodded loosely.

“Sure are.”

If he were to put an arm around Buck now, he’d probably drag him to his plane and leave Buck’s crew up a creek without a paddle, so he just tossed his friend a wink and turned to go.

“Nothin’ but blue skies,” he sang, “from now on.”

Bucky heard Buck’s laugh behind him, rough and tender. Smiling, he plunged forward into the fog.

#my writing #Masters of the Air #MotA #John 'Bucky' Egan #Gale 'Buck' Cleven #Curtis Biddick

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megidonitram · 8 months ago

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Everyone's Running From Something

(ch. 5)

A Baldur's Gate 3 University Professor AU

Rating: M

Quick Summary: Astarion and Gale are two University English professors precariously mentoring a troubled 19-year-old and falling in love.

💖Main Pairing : BloodWeave,(Astarion/Gale) 💕Side Pairings: Shadowheart/Nocturne, Karlach/Dammon, Wyll/The Dark Urge, Tav/Tav 💔Past Pairings: Gale/Mystra, Astarion/Sebastian, Astarion/Tav

<=Previous Chapter | Master List | Ao3 | Next Chapter =>

**Please see Master List Entry for Full Content Warnings**

⏰Chapter Warning⏰

Mentions of Child Abuse | Discussion of a Past Suicide Attempt | Implied Eating Disorder

The first day of class was overcast. Astarion woke up at 5:30 am and ran through his usual morning routine: make the bed, hot shower, work out- Mondays were endurance days: planks, crunches, lunges, and a 2-mile run-, cold shower, get dressed, morning coffee- one sugar, one stevia, no cream.

The mornings were when Astarion missed Lydia the most- not necessarily the banal domestic conversation, but the commotion of her in his house. Her inscrutable taste in music and the sound of her knocking around in the kitchen filled the void of silence in a far more alive way than the soft whisper-drone of NPR. It was also harder to fall back into old habits when someone else was there watching him.

His phone buzzed as he was finishing his coffee.

Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.

L: Hey, probably a stupid question.

Her name was still in his phone the way she’d saved it when they first met, as ‘Lydia 🖤😈’ and Astarion thought, as he did every time she reached out for something, that he should probably change that before the wrong person saw it.

L: Is there a purple and white cabochon earring lying around your bedroom somewhere? L: The last time I can remember wearing them I ended up at yours.

Astarion picked up his phone and typed a reply.

A: I know I have one of your earrings in my car cupholder.

A: I keep meaning to get it back to you. I’ll send it along with Wyll if you’d like.

She replied a few minutes later.

L: Absolutely do not do that. L: I’ll just run by your office L: God. L: You’re going to make the kids think I’m having an affair.

Astarion read the text and put his phone down, intending to end the conversation, but then something clicked in his mind.

A: Hey. A: You worked at a DSS to put yourself through medical school, didn’t you?

L: ooOOOoo

L: You must REALLY need something if you’re willing to admit that sports medicine is real medicine😏😏😏

A: Answer the question, Silverwarden. L: I did. L: But I was an admin not a coordinator, so my knowledge is limited L: You might be better off talking to Isobel

L: She’s very nice! I can introduce you if you’ve never met! A: I’m an English professor, I’ve met the ADA coordinator. A: I need your discretion. A: Can you tell me why a student’s mental health deferment might get rejected? L: Is this about Xenia? L: It’ll be easier to explain if you call me.

Astarion checked his watch before he clicked on her contact information to call her. The phone rang a few times before she picked up. He heard a squawking toddler and the last snatch of her previous conversation: ‘…It’s just a student thing… Alright, see you tonight. I love you.’

“Hello, Mr. Goodman! Are you going to Vemo me a dollar, or shall I?” Lydia had an unhurried lilting voice, with a touch of a southern accent that made her swallow her ‘o’s and ‘t’s.

“What?”

“It’s a- never mind!” she huffed. “Have you consumed a single piece of media produced in this century? You fucking crypt keeper.”

“Sometimes I have to review Jenevelle’s assigned reading choices for appropriateness.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He could tell she was nodding the way she did when he missed her point. “‘And so I Anal Douche While Kesha’s ‘Praying’ Plays From My iPhone on Repeat,’ I remember. She scandalized half the football team with that one.”

“The American Football team could stand to get scandalized more,” Astarion replied. “How are your little brats doing?”

As if on cue, there was another toddler squeal in the background. “Ruby took her first steps last fall, and Clem’s learning how to crawl exceptionally early, but I suspect you don’t actually care.”

He didn’t dignify that with a response. “Why would the DSS reject Xenia’s deferment?”

“So that’s the thing: They wouldn’t. The DSS covers ADA accommodations for students with documented disabilities; a sudden injury would not be under their purview,” Lydia explained, putting on her lecture voice. “The decision to defer a student’s financial aid awards would go to the university’s finance board—I think? It may go to the board of directors.”

“That’s not what Raphael told me.” Astarion pressed his tongue against his canine until it started to sting.

“I know you're not going to like to hear this, but Raphael may genuinely not know,” and she was quite right; Astraion was going to be pissed if he found out he'd been bluffed into his current predicament. “Disability services is an incredibly complex field- both necessarily and unnecessarily so. It’s still pretty unusual for a student’s medical deferment to get rejected… Can I ask what your interest in this is?”

“I’ve found a channel to contest the decision, but I want to make sure it’s at least a somewhat viable option before I drag Xenia into more bureaucracy.”

“hmm… I knew you two would get along.” Lydia replied, quite satisfied with herself. “You have a very similar energy.”

Astarion sighed. He knew someone had referred Xenia to his sophomore survey class last semester; he'd just never figured out who. “I suppose we both have that ‘father used to beat me’ twinkle in our eyes.”

“Don’t put those words in my mouth!” Lydia exclaimed. “I meant you both have a similar…” She groped for the right words, “…surviverly quality about yourselves.”

“Will to survive?” Astarion corrected her.

“Whatever!” She snapped.

“Do you know why Xenia might have been rejected?”

“Speculatively?” Lydia asked.

“No, I’m asking you to read someone’s mind.” Astarion quipped.

“I answered your call in front of my husband for this, you know?”

Astarion sighed again. “If he’s not comfortable with you talking to your exes, he probably should not have married someone who fucked their coworker.”

“Do you want my help, or did you call me just to snipe?”

“Fine… please speculate. Why would someone’s medical deferment be rejected?”

“Well, if I had to guess… Xenia was sort of a high-profile get for the university. And given her history, I think it’s pretty safe to say that incident-” she paused as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to say the next part. “-I think that incident last fall was probably a suicide attempt.”

There was a beat of grim silence. When the news came down, everyone had made that assumption, but no one was brave enough to put words to the thought.

Astarion hummed in acknowledgment. “So, you think the school rejected her medical deferment over bad publicity?”

“I think it would turn into a massive media circus if that got out, yes,” Lydia replied. “They may be trying to push her into dropping out.”

“Do you think it’s worth it to challenge?” Astarion asked.

“I don’t know,” Lydia sighed. “At the very least, it would probably be good to have as a precedent if she ends up having to sue the school… You could always just ask her what she wants to do. Poor kid might be too tired for all of this.”

“Fair.” Astarion pondered her words for a moment.

“Can I help you with anything else?” She asked.

“That’s all for now,” Astarion replied. “…Thank you, by the way. You don’t have to stick your neck out for me anymore, you know?”

“I know,” Lydia replied. “I did this because I wanted to. You’re still my friend -despite everything, I care about you.”

She hung up. Astarion’s phone screen went black. The house was silent again.

***

Gale got stuck in horrible traffic on his first day and ended up arriving 30 minutes late for his morning office hours. He skipped past dropping his lunch off in the breakroom fridge and rushed straight to the office, absolutely mortified that he was so late for his first proper day of class. He was so frazzled he had to double back to grab his coffee from the car.

It wasn’t like there would be anyone there waiting on him- a grand total of one student who knew who he was-, but it certainly made a bad impression to show up late on the first day of class.

Astarion was both bemused and incredibly entertained as he watched Gale flit around their office like a very flustered tornado, trying to cram one hour of planning into the thirty minutes he had remaining.

“You’re going to be fine.” Astarion had assured him. “It’s syllabus week, no one’s expecting Judith Buttler.”

Gale still left for his class 10 minutes early -just in case his classroom had teleported to a different dimension since he last visited it. It hadn’t. It turned out the room was exactly where he’d left it at the end of a strange little corridor in the library, and in fact, there were already two students waiting for him.

Xenia sat near the back of the classroom, wearing the facial expression of a kitten that was being petted too hard, as a pinch-faced, red-headed young woman combed her fingers through the knots in her hair.

“I can’t believe you’re not embarrassed to go out in public looking like this.” The pinch-faced woman scolded.

“It’s ha-ard to brush my hair with my non-dominant hand…” Xenia’s eyes bulged out of her head as the woman pulled her fingers through a particularly difficult knot.

“Chk. I’ll put it in a braid then, so you aren’t struggling to brush it.” She started dividing Xenia’s dark hair into sections no more gently than she’d detangled it.

“Hello Xenia, It’s good to see you again. How are you doing?” Gale asked as he set his satchel down behind the podium.

“Oh, I’ve been worse… I’ve also been better- Lae’zel, that hurts!” She squealed as the pinched-faced woman, Lae’zel apparently, tugged the braid tight.

“Then sit still so it will end faster.” Lae’zel scolded her. “I have younger siblings that squirm less than you, and they’re still in diapers.”

“I guess you’ll have to work on instilling more terror in my heart then,” Xenia replied. She gripped the edges of her desk with white knuckles as Lae’zel wrenched her head back.

Lae’zel hummed as if that was a legitimate suggestion. “Yes, I think we would have a much stronger working relationship if you feared me just a little more…”

Lae’zel finally let go of Xenia, who let out a breath like she’d narrowly avoided being hit by a bus as she pulled a few face-framing pieces from the clutches of her new French braid. Lae'zel turned her sights on Gale- though he desperately hoped it wasn't because she was planning on braiding his hair, too. “You must be the new English adjunct.”

“Yes, I’m Dr. Dekarios!” Gale replied. “You must be Lae’zel? The athletic director speaks very highly of you.”

“As he should.” Lae’zel nodded like he’d just given her the correct answer in an oral exam. “You should know that I designed to take this course this semester because I thought it would be taught by Dr. Ancunín rather than Dr. Shadowheart. I will be quite displeased with you if your teaching methods are as frivolous and unstructured as Shadowheart’s.”

Xenia’s eyes went wide, and her mouth formed a silent ‘Oh’ sound as she looked back and forth between Gale and Lae’zel.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching Dr. Shadowheart teach, so I don't know how our teaching methods compare, but I will not deign to be frivolous or unstructured.” Gale laughed nervously.

“I think she is perfectly competent as a professor of literature, but she does quite poorly with the more structured elements of the genera. Dr. Ancunín does not fare much better, but he is preferable to Shadowheart.” Lae’zel explained as if Gale had genuinely asked her option. “You should know that thus far, you have not made a positive impression on me… you were quite late posting the syllabus.”

“My apologies, Lae’zel,” Gale replied, hand on heart. “I got let into my faculty account one week before the semester began.”

“Hm, yes.” Lae’zel considered his response. “This school does have abysmal technical support, so I shall let it slide this time.”

By that time, a few more students had filed in, and it was about time for class to start- or Gale was desperate not to hear any more unsolicited criticism of his colleagues. Astarion was right. The class went perfectly fine. He explained the structure of the course, and had everyone introduce themselves and state their major (he found out Xenia was there because she was a phycology major), before he explained the purpose of taking an upper level grammar and style.

“The purpose of learning advanced grammar is not to improve your everyday language… If the person you are talking to understands what you are saying, then there is nothing wrong with your grammar… Language should evolve to fit the speaker, the speaker should not evolve to fit the language… However, if you are going into a field like law or communication where you’ll be expected to use very precise language…”

It went by in a flash, and Gale could hardly remember if he got everything that he needed to into the lecture by the time class ended, but if anyone was unclear about anything, they didn’t let him know at the moment. He barely registers Xenia darting out of the room before he finishes saying, “Have a nice rest of your day.” A few people lingered to give him the heads up about things in their personal lives that might interfere with class, and one student wanted to know if he’d receive their letter of accommodation, but before long, there was a small congregation of people forming at the door waiting for Gale to leave so the next class can take over the space.

He walked back to his office with a spring in his step. He didn’t even mind that much when it started to pour rain, and he realized he had forgotten his umbrella in the car.

***

It wasn’t much dryer in the humanities building. Gale dodged around liner-less trash bins set up under bulging ceiling tiles dotting the hallway. In the break room, Karlach was holding a bookcase steady so Shadowheart could climb on top of it.

Gale paused and walked back to the breakroom to make sure he saw that right.

He did.

“Do you… need help with something?” he asked sheepishly.

“Nope, I think we’ve got it!” Karlach replied, ducking out of the way of one of Shadowheart’s heels. “Water pools in AC vents when it rains, so we have to bang on them a couple of times to make sure it doesn’t collapse.”

“O-oh?” Gale looked up and realized one of the panels of the overhead duct was swelling dangerously. “Shouldn’t we put in a work order?”

“Be my guest,” Shadowheart said. She precariously balanced on her knees, and Gale held his breath as the bookshelf wobbled underneath her. “But maintenance won’t get to it before the break room floods.”

She reached up and banged on the ductwork above her head, and the vent in the middle of the room started dribbling yellowish-brown water. Suddenly, there was a strange gurgling noise, then a thunk! as the panel popped back into proper shape.

“Great work, Jen!” Karlach whooped, holding out a hand to help Shadowheart jump down. They high-fived, and Shadowheart went about smoothing out her clothes, grumbling under her breath when she realized there was a massive run in her tights.

“This kind of thing happen often?” Gale asked.

“Only when it rains!” Karlach chirped. She checked her watch and immediately started towards the door. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to get to my day job.” She gave Gale a friendly pat on the shoulder as she passed him. “If the vents start to flood again, it’s your and fancy pants’ turn to fix it!”

“I don’t know if that bookshelf will support either of our weights…” Gale balked.

“Not with that attitude, soldier!” Karlach called as the stairwell door swung closed behind her.

“You can poke it with a handle broom until it corrects; it just takes longer,” Shadowheart assured him. “I’ve got to go switch tights before I get to my next class. I don’t know if you’ve had the displeasure of meeting her yet, but God forbid Lae’zel catches me with a run in my pantyhose.”

“Oh, so she does talk like that to your face then?” Gale replied. “I didn’t know if I should-”

“Talks like what- never mind, don’t tell me!” Shadowheart huffed. “I swear, after everything I’ve done for that girl- I’ll talk to you later!” She turned on her heels and followed Karlach up the stairs.

Gale sighed in relief, ready to hold up in his office for a little while. He reached into the front pocket of his satchel for his keys only to find it empty. Cursing under his breath, he thumbed through the things in the main pocket, hoping he’d accidentally mixed them in with everything else- nothing. Finally, he pulled out his phone only to find a series of texts from Astarion.

A: You left your keys.

Then, a little while later.

A: I’m going to be out of office when you get back. A: Ask Mizora on the second floor for the spare key, good luck.

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typingtess · 4 months ago

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NCIS: Los Angeles Season 14 Rewatch: “Sleeping Dogs”

The basics: When several Drona subjects are attacked, NCIS is on the case.

Written by: Andrew Bartels wrote or co-wrote "Allegiance", "Zero Days", "The Grey Man", "Humbug", "Fighting Shadows", "Driving Miss Diaz", "Angels & Daemons", "Where There’s Smoke…", "Glasnost", "Old Tricks" "Battle Scars", "Fool Me Twice", "Warrior of Peace", "Reentry", "The Prince", "Smokescreen", "The One That Got Away"/"No More Secrets" two-parter, "Yellow Jacket", "Missing Time", "If the Fates Allow", "Red Rover, Red Rover", "Divided We Fall", "Genesis" and "Survival of the Fittest".

Directed by: Gonzalo Amat is directing his first NCIS: Los Angeles episode.

Guest stars of note: Ava McCoy as Jordyn Rountree returns from “Perception” in season 13, Ashley Sharpe Chestnut as FBI Special Agent Summer Morehurst returns from "Let it Burn", both Kavi Ramachandran Ladnier as Agent Shyla Dahr and Duncan Campbell as Agent Castor return from “Shame”, Milissa Sears as Leah Novak returns from “Genesis” in season 13, David DeSantos as Anthony Beltran.

Our heroes: Keep droning on about Drona.

What important things did we learn about: Callen: In a roundabout way, asks Sam to be his best man. Sam: In a roundabout way, says yes t being Callen’s best man. Kensi: Absent. Deeks: See Kensi. Fatima: Hacks into the Drona files with Shyla. Rountree: Willing to be shot at to protect Sam and Fatima. Kilbride: Leaving after work to see his son.

What not so important things did we learn about: Callen: Worshipped by Castor. Sam: Thinks Castor getting knocked out twice in three months is a bad look. Kensi: See Deeks. Deeks: Absent. Fatima: Likes Rountree with Summer. Rountree: Runs after school buses, bad guys and through sand castles. Kilbride: Hired Shyla because Shyla remembers everything.

Where in the world is Henrietta Lange? Seemingly in a small town on the border of Turkey and Syria warning Drona subjects that they are in danger.

Who's down with OTP: Kensi and Deeks are off doing family things. Rountree and Summer seems to be doing well.

Who's down with BrOTP: Callen popped the question – will Sam be his best man? Callen has a side buddy in Castor.

Fashion review: Callen wears a green, blue and yellow plaid shirt. A long-sleeve black tee for Sam. Fatima wears a tan leather field coat over a black turtleneck. A pale purple fleece sweatshirt for Rountree. Kilbride has on a dark brown three-piece suit with a white dress shirt and a brown and gold tie.

Music: Not today!

Any notable cut scene: Not today!

Quote: Shyla: “Oh, uh, your ride to the airport just pulled up outside.” Kilbride: “I thought I told you to cancel that flight.” Shyla: “Did you? Oh, I-I don't remember.” Kilbride: “You remember everything. That's why I hired you.” Shyla: “Do you still want me to cancel it? Bear in mind, it is nonrefundable and I know how much you hate wasting money. Not to mention missing an opportunity to see your son after all these years...” Kilbride: “All right, all right, I'm leaving. Remind me to fire you when I get back.”

Anything else: A gentleman is out walking his dog in a small park area surrounded by businesses. The dog, Rebel, starts barking and jumps into a bush. Returning to his owner, Rebel gifts the man a dead squirrel, which was not on the man’s breakfast meal plan. The man’s phone rings – it is an older, flip phone. A text message reads “DHRISHTADYUMNA”. The man breaks the phone in half and tosses his phone, causing Rebel to play fetch. While the dog is away, a person wearing a ski mask shoots the dog owner in the back of the dead. Rebel returns to his fallen owner and sits right next to him because dogs are the best.

At a table by a coffee shop, Fatima, Rountree, Jordyn and FBI Agent Summer Morehurst are chatting. Fatima is teasing Rountree for yelling “Federal Agents” as they were trailing a suspect. The suspect ran (because he’s obviously watched the show). “Tree” caught the guy after a 10-minute chase. Jordyn is all in for the Rountree mocking. Rountree always liked to show off how fast he was. He’d forget to give Jordyn her school lunch on purpose and then run alongside the school bus to give it to her like Keanu Reeves. And she hated his lunches – avocados and bean sprouts. She was 14 and didn’t want to eat that stuff back then. Summer says she’s not interested in eating it now. Rountree says it all worked out for the best. Jordyn aced her MCATs and is on her way to medical school. Summer starts mocking “Treefontaine” when she gets a call – FBI wants to see her. Jordyn is off to class as well.

Shyla is giving a not paying attention Admiral Kilbride notice about a meeting with his British and Australian counterparts. Still not paying attention. She would be willing to go. Still not paying attention. Kensi and Deeks are out because Rosa’s aunt had a stroke. Still not paying attention. Office minutiae like the security system doing a reboot and Agent Castor’s performance review aren’t capturing the Admiral’s attention either. Shyla mentions a radioactive group of pubescent turtles foiling and armed robbery at the Santa Monica Pier and nothing. Shyla sees a suitcase and realizes that he’s flying up to San Francisco to see his son. She will arrange transport to the airport at 7PM but he wants to leave at 7:30PM – he’s not much of an airport guy. With spring break, Shyla recommends the earlier departure time but the Admiral promises her he’ll be fine. Eventually he relents but warns Shyla that if he is stuck with a “posse of frat boys you will never hear the end of it.” She thinks that would be a great story. As Shyla leaves, the Admiral wants a BOLO on the turtles and their giant rat leader – can’t have mutant vigilantes running around.

Sam walks in to the bullpen, greeting Callen. On Sam’s desk is a printout of a man in a tuxedo. Callen explains it is the tuxedo Anna, sorry, he and Anna, want Sam to wear to the wedding. Sam thinks he can dress himself. Callen brings up Anna’s, his and Anna’s color palate for the wedding. The tux is just for Sam. “Is this your way of asking me to be your best man?” Callen thought Sam being the best man was a given. Sam’s not so sure. Callen has been spending quality time with Castor – they had some drinks and dinner after Castor was knocked out by Miraslava. Sam notes that Castor worships Callen, even dresses like him. Castor arrives, dressed similarly to Callen. Callen breaks down and asks if Sam would be his best man. Of course, Sam replies but he hates the tux. Callen agrees.

Shyla walks down the stairs. Callen asks if they have a case. She replies “you tell me” as she brings them up to Ops. Once in Ops, she launches all the security protocols that lock the door, shut the shutters and turn down the lights. She was sent two encrypted files through a DOD top secret/special compartmented information channel, JWICS. The first file is the driver’s license for the man the park – John Jenkins. He’s the CEO for a software company. The second file is the ID card of an FBI Analyst, Patrick Hertel. Both men were found dead that morning. Hertel was killed in his backyard, Jenkins in the park. There were numbers with the file – eight, 11 and 22. Maybe August 11, 2022.

Callen isn’t interested in figuring out what eight, 11 and 22 mean. JWICS files are sent by known people. Who sent the file? Shyla doesn’t know, it came from a SCIF on the border of Turkey and Syria, the town of Al-Rai. It was Hetty’s last known location, who else would send cryptic clues. Shyla seems excited –“are you talking about who I think you’re talking about?” Callen confirms – Hetty.

In the Admiral’s office, Callen makes the case that to Kilbride that the JWICS file came from Hetty. The Admiral wants to know why she would send the names for two men and some random numbers. It isn’t an urgent message, it is a top secret butt dial according to the Admiral. He’s checked – the SCIF was closed months ago. Callen thinks Hetty could have routed the JWICS through the SCIF but if she did that, why didn’t she identify herself the Admiral asks. Maybe Hetty thinks JWICS is compromised according to Callen. More being a pain in the ass according to Kilbride. Callen wants to investigate the victims to see if there is anything there. Since Hetty bailed Kilbride out with the Simon Williams case, Callen can investigate as long as he stays in his lane – stay away from the official investigations.

Fatima and Rountree show up at Hertel’s home, which is covered with police tape. They start to work on a story to get involved with the case when they see Summer working the case. She comes to see Rountree and Fatima, who think there is a connection between Hertel’s killing and an NCIS investigation into John Jenkins. Summer starts asking questions and Rountree drops “national security”. Since Rountree and Fatima can’t share their info on Jenkins, which is none other than Callen and Sam are investigating what Hetty sent, Summer can’t working with them. When they can share, so can she. Hertel is FBI – they’re working for one of their own.

At the park area, Callen learns from LAPD that all the cameras were down due to routine maintenance when Jenkins was walking his dog. Callen also shares that Summer is working the Hertel case. Sam thinks it was a robbery – no wallet, no keys, no phone and the killer took away the shell casings. LAPD found half the phone in Rebel’s mouth. Callen gives Shyla a call. She has not found a link between Jenkins and Hertel yet.

Looking into Jenkins, his start up tech company has one employee – Jenkins. They haven’t created a product in the last five years. Jenkins and his company have been doing very well, despite offering no products. He’s likely laundering money. Asked about family, Shyla tells Callen and Sam that Jenkins was adopted and his adopted parents are long dead. Turning back to the crime scene, if the dog found one half of the phone, Sam would like to see if he could find the other half.

Back at the FBI crime scene, Rountree sees an older couple arrive and go right under the police tape. Fatima is on the phone. Rountree calls for Summer, who is a bit embarrassed. She asks about the older couple – they are Hertel’s adopted parents. An arriving Fatima, who was on the phone hears adopted and notes that Jenkins was also adopted. Summer isn’t impressed until Fatima tells her both men were shot in the back of the head to make it look like a robbery. Summer never told them how Hertel was killed. NCIS is now part of the FBI crime scene.

Callen and Sam talk about Callen setting a date but Anna is giving him time to find Hetty. Sam hopes this is the case that gets them to Hetty. Callen doesn’t believe that. If Hetty wanted to be found, Hetty would be found. She would tell them where to find her. Callen wants to get married and it is unfair to make Anna wait so long. Sam is looking forward to his best man speech – he has a lot of wisdom to share. Callen thinks he’s heard most of Sam’s wisdom but the wisdom is for Anna, who needs to know what she’s really getting herself into. Callen is having second thoughts about Castor. The dog finds the other part of the phone.

As the Admiral arrives in Ops, Shyla has an update about eight, 11 and 22. Both Jenkins and Hertel went through the LA foster care system. They are both single, in their 40’s and both had government jobs. Hertel is with the FBI, Jenkins is an NSA Analyst. He’s not in most common databases for the NSA. Shyla learned about his NSA role through some friends in Washington. Shyla is about to call this in to Callen and Sam but the Admiral wants her to way. He needs her to pull some files instead.

Hertel was watering his plants when his killer walked up behind him and fired one shot into his head. There was no cartridges left behind, just like the Jenkins crime scene. Summer apologizes for stonewalling NCIS. Fatima says they would have likely done the same if the roles were reversed. Summer doesn’t understand the connection between the two killings.

Fatima gets a call from Shyla, who asks if Hertel has a birthmark on his back. A little reluctantly, Fatima asks Summer to pull up Hertel’s shirt. There is a rather large birthmark on his back. The Admiral, with Shyla, wants her to call Callen. When Callen answers, he starts a sit-rep for Shyla but the Admiral stops things. Eight, 11 and 22 are people, not numbers. Hertel and Jenkins were eight and 22 from the Drona Project, “your alma mater Agent Callen.” Callen has a flashback to his time with Drona.

The Hertel-Jenkins cases are now joint FBI-NCIS investigations. Shyla is told by Kilbride to share everything they have on the case except Hetty’s involvement. Since Hetty’s involvement was speculation anyway, Shyla wasn’t going to share it. With subjects eight and 22 accounted for, who is subject 11? That is Leah Novak, who Callen contacted in the prior year. Callen is trying to find Novak now.

Callen calls Leah who doesn’t want to talk to him. She is walking through a really sketchy looking indoor parking lot. There is a team of masked men following her. Sam tries to get Leah to listen to him but the masked men open fire. Shyla, who was monitoring the phone call is able to trace Leah’s location to a Mid-City parking garage.

In the garage, Callen and Sam find an empty shopping bag with wrapped up money inside. Callen sees a badly wounded Leah, who says “14” before losing consciousness.

Returning to Ops, Fatima and Rountree are told by Shyla that Leah is in surgery. With someone targeting Drona subject, Callen could be in danger. Rountree disagrees – Hetty would have warned Callen in her JWICS communications if he was in trouble. The Admiral arrives, warning Rountree not to read too much into anything Hetty does. There is another Drona subject who may be danger – number 14. The Admiral wants Shyla to cancel is flight to San Francisco to see his son. As he leaves, Shyla tells Rountree and Fatima to go to the gadget area to study Jenkins’s phone. When she knows who number 14 is, she’ll update them.

There was brass left behind at the Leah’s shooting which means she likely hit at least two of her assailants. Callen found a go-bag in Leah’s car with water, MREs and a satellite phone. She knew she was in danger. Sam thinks the same of Jenkins – that’s likely why he tossed his phone. Callen thinks Pembrook is behind the killings – Callen found him and is now cleaning up what’s left behind of Drona.

While Rountree is sweet talking Summer, Fatima is working on Jenkins’s phone. Once in, Rountree is off his phone and working with Fatima. The “DHRISHTADYUMNA” text message is the name of a Hindu warrior who killed his teacher Drona. There are contacts in the phone – Hertel and Leah Novak are there. So is an Anthony Beltran, a former Army Ranger turned history professor. Fatima sends his address to Callen and Sam.

As Callen and Sam pull up outside of Beltran’s home, Beltran is putting a duffle bag into his trunk. When Callen and Sam try to speak to Beltran, Beltran runs. Callen makes things worse by yelling “federal agents” while Sam gets in his car to cut Beltran off. Beltran starts shooting at Callen, who promises they are not there to hurt Beltran. “Leah sent us.” Beltran is talked into putting his gun down. Callen introduces himself as Special Agent Grisha Callen, subject 17. He assures Beltran he’s safe.

In the boat shed, Beltran is in interrogation while Callen and Sam in the main room. The duffle bag in Beltran’s truck had MREs, cash, burner phones. He also got the same text message sent to Jenkins before Jenkins was killed. Callen wonders who sent the text message and Hetty earns a message. Callen isn’t pleased – this is Hetty training an agent, people are being murdered.

Shyla pops up on the screen. There was one vehicle seen on security/traffic cams at the Jenkins/Hertel/Leah shootings. Backtracking with Kaleidoscope, Shyla traced the vehicle to a building downtown. Rountree and Fatima are going to the building and Sam will meet them. Callen wonders why he’s not going but Sam wants answers from Beltran. Callen is the best person to get the answers.

Callen starts to question Beltran, who won’t sit on the wrong side of the table right away, wanting to stand instead. Beltran eventually sits. As an alibi, Beltran says he was home when Jenkins and Hertel were killed. Callen asks about the text message. Beltran was preparing a lesson – he teaches ancient history – and missed the message when it was sent. Once he saw it, however, he called Leah. Leah told him about Jenkins and Hertel. Beltran put his phone in his garbage disposal, packed his things and was going to hit the road when Callen and Sam drove up.

Beltran thought Callen and Sam were working for “him” – Howard Pembrook. Beltran shows Callen scars on his arm from Pembrook’s abuse. Jenkins, Hertel, Leah and Beltran started working together a year ago, after Callen told Leah about Pembrook. They wanted to take him down with lawsuits. There was talk about bringing Callen in but the men in the group were angry Callen lied to Leah. Beltran believes Pembrook found out about them and now he’s having them killed. Beltran wants to see Leah – they are “very close.”

With Summer’s FBI team 30-minutes out, Sam, Rountree and Fatima in tactical gear go into the downtown building. The vehicle has not returned to the location. This is their best chance to scope out the building. Sam breaks down the door. It is a warehouse with huge computer servers, a desk, file cabinets. While Fatima and Shyla try to get into the server, Rountree finds a photo of Callen on the wall from when he was in Pembrook’s garden.

Callen shows Beltran the photo and explains he was trying to confront Pembrook about the past. Pembrook was fine. Beltran is interested in what was in the building where Sam, Fatima and Rountree are. He’s also furious at Callen for going to see Pembrook. Everything bad that’s happened started when Callen met Pembrook. If this was true, Callen asks, why didn’t Pembrook go after him? Beltran talks about the lawsuit being a bigger threat. Castor appears – the doctor says Beltran can see Leah now. In Leah’s room, she’s on a ventilator. Beltran is holding Leah’s hand, saying Pembrook must pay.

As Fatima and Shyla get access to the server, the previously opened files pop up. There were files for black-ops missions in Crimea, Somalia and Brazil. Pembrook is still in the game. An audio file has Leah and Jenkins using their Drona numbers as they work on a mission. They aren’t being targeted by Pembrook, they work for Pembrook. Sam can’t contact Shyla to warn Callen – signal jammers knocked out the cell service. Gunmen rush near Sam, Fatima and Rountree. Gunfire is exchanged. Fatima and Rountree are pinned down.

Sam is able to get Fatima and Rountree to a safer location – people are still shooting. If they can hold out, the FBI could rescue them but Sam is more worried the FBI is walking into an ambush. More gunfire is exchanged. Sam takes out at least one of the shooter.

In Leah’s room, Callen gets a call from Shyla about the lost comms with Sam and company. The Summer-led FBI team suddenly is unreachable too. Callen is going to the building, Castor will take Beltran back to boat shed. Beltran wants to stay with Leah. He’s not worried about his safety, he just wants to be with her. Callen realizes there were only three Drona subject numbers – eight, 11 and 22. Hertel, Leah and Jenkins. Beltran wasn’t on the list – he was never warned.

Rountree is willing to create a diversion by running – but not in a show-offy way. Fatima thinks he’ll get killed. Sam assures them nobody is getting killed today. He has a plan.

Callen has his weapon out and orders Beltran away from Leah. Leah said 14 to Callen before losing consciousness – Beltran was 14. Callen knocks on the door to get Castor in as back-up. Beltran is impressed that Callen figured it all out but is more impressed with his own handy work when a Drona gunman, not Castor, walks into the hospital room.

Using some flashbangs, Sam, Fatima and Rountree move the people shooting them out of their secure locations. Once they were seen, team NCIS shoot them. Summer and the FBI arrive. Sam finds the signal jammer and shuts it off, he’s quick to contact Callen.

Explaining that once again, Agent Castor is out cold, Beltran takes Callen’s gun. Beltran doesn’t kill people who don’t deserve it – he didn’t have Castor killed, won’t kill Callen. Callen notes that Beltran was going to kill Leah, who was in a coma in a hospital bed. Beltran wasn’t going to kill her – she’s no longer a threat. He just needed eyes on her to make sure. Beltran says he and Callen are on the same side – they want to kill Pembrook. Beltran’s partner has a sedative prepared for Callen – not going to kill Callen, just a long nap like Castor. Callen hits the partner. Beltran runs and after Callen gets the sedative in the leg, he runs after Beltran. As Callen runs after Beltran, he has some Pembrook flashbacks before the sedative takes hold. Callen is out cold and Beltran is gone.

Shyla updates Kilbride. Callen and Castor are fine – it really was just a sedative. Beltran and his partner are gone but the FBI are hunting them down. Shyla also has Kilbride’s ride to the airport waiting outside of the office. She doesn’t remember his order to cancel the flight. Kilbride is not amused – he hired her because she never forgets anything. She offers to cancel the flight but is non-refundable. The Admiral hates wasting money, according to Shyla. “Remind me to fire you when I get back.” And the Admiral is off.

In the Armory, Fatima and Rountree are packing up their things. Fatima asks about a story Summer started at breakfast. Seems Rountree and Summer were having a lovely walk on the beach when the wind kicked up. Summer’s hat went flying and Rountree went flying after it. As he was catching up, he destroyed a kid’s sandcastle. He got the hat back and then spent an hour helping the kid rebuild the castle. Fatima thinks Rountree really likes Summer. He admits he does but realizes he’s late for dinner with Summer. He races away.

Callen is at the back balcony in the boat shed when Sam arrives. Callen said had Beltran and he let Beltran get away. And maybe he did it because he wants Beltran to kill Pembrook. But if Beltran kills anyone else, well, Callen knows that’s his fault. Sam thinks they need to find Beltran and Pembrook. Callen wants to know how Hetty knew the Drona subjects were being targeted. “Add it to the list,” Sam replies. Callen is going for a drink with Castor. Sam notes that it is the second time Castor got knocked out and lost his gun – maybe Castor shouldn’t be trusted with the wedding ring. Callen tells Best Man Sam to knock it off.

What head canon can be formed from here: So done with the Drona/Callen’s childhood storyline. The program has a handful of episode left and this one and one down the road eat up valuable time with this tedious storyline. And the episode down the road – where I will be screeching about retconning Pembrook – could have been used for more of Rountree’s history beside his sister, more of Fatima’s history period, more of Sam with Raymond, Kensi’s mom’s with Rosa. There were other “personal history” episodes besides this nonsense.

As for the episode itself, it was really well done, if a bit talky, for a set-up episode for what comes in episode 19. It was all about Pembrook without Pembrook physically in the episode (flashbacks don’t count). It is still up in the air if Beltran, Leah, Jenkins and Hertel are villains or victims. Beltran is a mess – no issue with killing Leah, Jenkins and Hertel but knockout syringes for Callen and poor Agent Castor. The Drona drama is such a mess.

Episode number: Episode number 16 in season 14. This is the 318th episode overall.

#NCIS: Los Angeles Rewatch #NCIS: Los Angeles #NCIS Los Angeles #NCIS: LA #ncis la

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lenentinecards · 1 year ago

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The Industrial Drone of UrbanSpook

Author: Florian Dama Dama

DISCLAIMER: This was written before we knew the creator was a creep and a right wing asshole. Do not take any of this as endorsement of him as a person.

Extremely impromptu, off-the-cuff filler... Thing while waiting for Rutena to finish the Prince Rama write up (It's GETTING TO IT we promise)

This is a review of the soundtrack, or what's available of it at the time of writing, of the webseries UrbanSpook, I will not be covering the writing, themes, or imagery of the series, only my impressions of the music on its own, though I will disclose that my perception of the music might be colored by having watched the series.

If you decide to look at the series because of this review of the music be warned that there is drawn extreme gore, body horror, child death, along with heavily implied CSA (but not shown on screen), and likely some other common triggers I've missed within the series. The music is free of that however.

UrbanSpook is an analog horror series I personally consider schlocky and mostly shock value, though I have a strong fondness for it for both the music and the visual art, though the visual component is not relevant here. The menacing industrial drones build mood beautifully, if there is one thing to love the series for it's this. The creator, Urban Slug, has a SoundCloud, and his music can be found here. I will be using the titles used on there rather than the video titles for sake of clarity.

b e n e a t h: More of a standard menacing drone track, reminiscent of a siren perhaps, it's solid but not exceptional compared to its bretheren, it's hard to say much about it. Suits being paired with the introductory video for that though.

b r e a t h: This one LURKS, more atmospheric, it looms, it stares at you but it dodges out of your view when you try to look at it, you only ever see it in fragments. The place you're in would almost be serene if not for what is watching, what you hear growl and breath just out of sight

w a l l s: Very much evokes the feeling of something in the walls or perhaps the vents, another track thst makes you feel WATCHED. There is no chance of actually sighting what sees you until it has you here though. All you can do is listen and anticipate its attack.

p i p e s: This one is more akin to a witnessed aftermath than an impending attack, this track drips with blood, it shows you meat barely recognizable as having been human. It ends like a revelation you're on the trail of what hunted and watched you in the previous two tracks.

p I g s: Another bloody aftermath. More aggressive than drone-like, more noisy, more harsh than its brothers. You found the aftermath sooner after the attack than the one of previous track, everything is fresh, animals scream, something like a human screams (a companion? Who have you been following this with?), the animals are frenzied, you are frenzied, the scent of blood is fresh and maddening, you have learned something horrible. Maybe you've always known.

w h a l e: We return to drones, this one almost funerary, reminiscent of the hurdy-gurdy. It is both a funeral and a hunt. It smells like cloying lilies and incense smoke here. Someone is here who shouldn't be. Are we hunting them? Do they hunt us? There is clarity, you know something, but it escapes you before you can parse it.

Parting thoughts: The music certainly enhances the story and visuals of videos they were made to be paired with, but I feel like the music almost has its own parallel story to tell, not dissimilar, but perhaps with a more animalistic predator. It's very evocative, easily carrying me to a place, an event. It's solid horror music overall and I'm excited to see how the music evolves as the series continues. If the music continues to be solid as the series continues maybe I'll write another post on it at a later date.

#Urbanspook #Author: Dama

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pipermca · 1 year ago

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K-9: Part 3

Start at the beginning here.

Enjoy.

No content warnings. Relationships: Barricade & Prowl, Bluestreak & Prowl, Prowl & OC

***********************************

"I can't even tell you how excited I am that someone's actually going to give the unit another chance," Brainstorm said. The scientist was practically floating down the hallway of the military's research lab. "I heard you got the documentation on the project. Do you have any questions?"

"I have several, in fact," Prowl said. "The documentation for the drone's basic construction was straightforward enough. However, I am afraid that the jargon used in the white papers was a bit beyond my comprehension." When Brainstorm made a 'go on' twirl with his fingers, Prowl continued. "For example, much of the literature seems centered around spark integration into a modified frame. I have never heard of a drone with a spark, though. Also, the declassified brief released to the Watch did not mention anything about a spark."

"Ooooh, that," Brainstorm said. His wings twitched up and down in a way that Prowl was not able to interpret. "Well, in order to get it through the ethics board, I had to use the drone terminology and tone down the spark talk. Fortunately, once they give approval they usually don't bother peeking in on what you're doing again. Brainstorm winked at Prowl. "Anyway, lot of the language for the ethics board made its way into the brief you received. But don't worry, it's not a real spark, it's an artificial one. We were able to clone a wirehound spark that we harvested from a wild pod, blank its firmware, tweak its power output, and put it into a custom frame. The spark provides a better power source than a typical drone's power core, and the processor code we developed interacts with the cloned spark's innate characteristics to give it something like intuition. You know, above what a drone could accomplish. But legally, it's still a drone."

"You purposefully circumvented an ethical review of the project?" Prowl asked. A pall of disquiet crept over him.

"Not really. I mean, kind of, but not really really. The whole project was explained in the proposal. We just talked up certain aspects and talked down others. We didn't hide anything." Brainstorm waved his hand dismissively. "Listen if anyone was going to raise a question of ethics, my lab partner would have." He mimed a mouth talking with his hand. "'Brainstorm, do not use neutronium in the ammunition of that weapon. Blah blah, black holes, end of the universe, blah blah.'" Brainstorm rolled his optics. "Trust me, Percy would have made sure I heard about any real concerns. But this is a huge advance in spark science, with tons of applications elsewhere. So we're really interested to see what you're able to do with the unit."

"I see." Prowl resolved to raise any apprehensions he had about the project with the Captain. "Another question I had was why the project's results were rejected by the military. Captain Overdrive suggested it was because the drone is not a weapon."

"Well..." Brainstorm dragged out the word thoughtfully. "That might be part of it. I do have a bit of a reputation for making some of their better weapons. But even when I said I could retrofit it with butt rockets and a mouth laser they weren't interested. Honestly, I think they just didn't like the time commitment it ended up needing. They wanted something that could be plug and play: give it to one solider, let them use it for a while, then reassign it to another solider. You know, just like any other tool or weapon." Brainstorm paused by a door and tapped in a code. "But as it turns out, the unit doesn't work like that. I guess it's a side effect of the source spark."

"What do you mean?" Prowl asked.

"The coding seems to like consistency," Brainstorm said as the door opened. "No matter how many times we wiped its memory, the unit seemed to retain impressions of its prior experiences. Good on the one hand, but not great when you want it to be something that gets traded around a lot."

Once the door was open, the lights in the room flickered on. It seemed to be large storage room, with boxes piled high to the ceiling. The towers of storage crates made irregular shadows in the narrow canyons they created, with corners lost completely to darkness.

Brainstorm led Prowl down one row of crates. "We were keeping it in the lab for a while, but once the brass canned the project we had to put it in storage. Its forced power-down sequence stopped working a few memory wipes ago, though, so I've had to come in here once in a while to top up its fuel." He paused by a large crate that looked like more of a cage than a storage box, and tapped on the bars. "Here we are. Wake up, buddy. Your new user's here."

The depths of the crate completely hidden in shadows. Prowl peered into the crate, trying to make out any shapes. After adjusting his optics to the darkness, he could finally see a very dim red light far back inside the cage, almost on the floor.

"See, this is what I was saying about it liking consistency. Every other time I've come down here, I had some fuel for it." He dug into his subspace and pulled out a small packet of crystalized energon. "Come on, A-6. I've got your treats."

The red light brightened and lifted up from floor. Prowl heard a scrape and a thump, and then the drone moved forward and out of the shadows.

Prowl was passingly familiar with wirehounds. They were fast, lithe little mechanimals that lived in the rocky hills outside of Iacon. They mostly scavenged fuel from small creatures like dexisquirrels and rustbugs, but when they got into stores of refined energon they were eliminated as pests. The largest wirehounds Prowl had ever seen came up no higher than his knee joints, but most only stood as high as his shin windows.

The drone that walked out of the darkness was huge. If it stood up straight and lifted its head as high as possible, it could have looked Prowl directly in the optic. The top of its head was completely composed of red plasteel, as though it had a red visor, and an optical band glowed brightly behind it. Two armatures extended from its back, ending in red lightbars, but the lights in them were off and the bars themselves were pressed tightly against its back. It was painted in a striking white and black motif, not unlike Prowl's own colours.

It looked like it could launch itself out of the crate and do serious damage, weapons or not.

Prowl took an unconscious step backwards. "That... That is not a wirehound," he said as Brainstorm opened the crate.

#my writing #maccadam #tf prowl #tf brainstorm #k9

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