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skywalkoverme · 25 days ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 (𝐑𝐚𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞)

a/n: Request is here! This was so fun to write and I think you can tell from the word count! Enjoy!! EDIT: (Only watched Life as a House bc of my moot, @hellokittyyloverrrr thank you love. Mwah.)

𐙚 James x Fem! x Sam 𐙚 || THREESOME || 18+ MDNI

Summary: The Kelly's spend the Fourth of July at your farm.

Warnings/contains: James Kelly is Sam Monroe's father, southern AU, cheating, threesome, public sex, raw sex, smut, p in v, oral sex (f +m rec), sexually experienced y/n, established relationship, Sam Monroe is 19, Y/n is 25-30, James is 40-45, LOTS of alcohol consumption, smoking etc, sexual situations, edging, dirty talk, humiliation kink, slight breeding kink, cucking and more.

Note: proof read but-- english is not my first language!

Word Count: 6.1k // More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

You held your hips as you spoke to your husband, seemingly an argument from where James stood. He leaned forward on the hood of his truck across the road. A cigarette between his lips as his knuckles rest in the tuck of his opposite hand. You looked annoyed as you raised something in his face. “…son of a fuckin’ bitch!” You yelled. Your husband pulled whatever it was from your hand and tucked it into his pocket. “I hate you!”

“Ya don’t hate me, woman! Get your ass in the house and stop makin’ a scene!”

“Fuck. You.” You said loud enough for the nosey neighbors to hear before raising a single middle finger.

James exhaled smoke as you climbed into your white truck and slammed the door shut. Your husband chased you down the lawn as you left the driveway with a screech of the tires. James waved towards you. “’Mornin’.” He called towards your husband who looked stressed as usual.

The man sighed, “G’mornin’, Kelly.” You sped off with the wind in your hair before pushing a CD into the player.

“How’s the Missus?” He asked with a smirk while lighting another cigarette.

The two met in the middle of the paved road, “Paranoid per usual.” Your husband sighed and watched the truck swerve around the corner and disappear from sight.

“Is that so?” James took a deep inhale before chuckling, “’Bout time God laid this problem to rest, ain’t it?” Your husband jokingly tapped his watch. “How ‘bout I talk to ‘er?” James smirked, a prideful look on his face while your husband scratched his dark hair.

“I dunno. She’s a bit wild, you know that.” James thought of your sun kissed complexion and untamed hair; those fierce, large brown eyes that seemed to capture the little details of any man; that slick mouth that could gather a girl in seconds.

“One of ‘em rawhide girls, sure is.” James nodded and looked at the house across the street, “M’guessin’ she’s at the mart.” An eyebrow raised as he tilted his head.

“Mhm, talkin’ up her lil’ friends.” James took the keys from his pocket and unlocked his truck door, “Hey,” James stopped in his tracks and turned, “Thank you, Kelly.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He gave a thoughtful look before driving towards town where you likely were. He took his time cruising as he thought of your attitude. Your husband couldn’t handle it most days, but James could. You were quick at the mouth, your words dangerous and rude at times but he loved every part of you. James liked to say you were ‘A whole lotta woman’: body, mind and words alike.

He parked outside of the mart and waited by the ice cooler. When you left the mart, your attention was drawn to the man who smelled of Marlboro reds and engine oil. “James.” You acknowledged him before slowly approaching. “What’d’ya want?” Your accent iced your fast words.

“Y’know why I’m here.” He smiled to your dismay and offered you a cigarette. You weren’t one to turn down free Marlboro reds. You placed the cigarette between your full, red lips and bent down some for him to light the end, “Yer givin’ that old man silver hair.”

You always found it entertaining when James made fun of the age difference between you and your husband. “He’s only 50-somethin''. He can take it.” You shrugged.

“Clearly…” He sarcastically remarked as his eyes flickered down to your breasts as they strained in that white cropped shirt.

“If ya’ came here to calm me down, yer’ late.”

“Really?” You nodded as you exhaled, “I don’t believe you.” He said softly while you looked past him.

“Think I give a shit?” Your attitude that you tried your best to contain, rose once more.

The man groaned as he hugged your waist with one arm as he guided you away from the doors of the mart, “What happened back there?” He lingered for a few moments, his hand on your back as his chest found comfort on your pillowy breasts.

“He came home at nine-fifty last night when his shift ended at eight!” James pulled away and drew from his burning cigarette when you raised your voice. “I know that fucker is cheatin’ on me again! I ain’t no fool, Kelly. I been sayin’ he’s got me bent!” You pointed an accusing finger as if directing your anger at James.

“You really think that?” His voice was happier than it should’ve been upon hearing such incredible news! Well, incredible for him.

“Fuck, yes.” You spat bitterly with a toss of your dark hair.

“Well, he’s insane for cheating.” James muttered as his eyes fell your curves. Even at eight in the morning, you looked stunning. Eyeliner, that he could swear you slept in, stained around your large, brown eyes. One of your husband’s ball caps rests on your head as you lit another one of his cigarettes. A pair of daisy dukes around your hips, the waist band folded over and unbuttoned to make space for your hips. “You should leave him.” You turned your attention back to James.

“Leave him?” A pause. You broke into laughter, holding your own hip. “I can’t leave him, James.”

“Why not? He’s cheatin’.”

“I love ‘em too much to leave. I’ll jus’ get my lick somehow.” You smirked; raspberry red lips stained by your favorite lipstick. James rubbed the back of his neck as you climbed back into your truck. He rests his arms on the open window.

You’d known James for only a few years. Him and his son, Sam, live across the way from you and have grown accustomed to your company. His son was what you’d call ‘a disrespectful, son of Lucifer’ or when you were feeling kind, ‘Lil’ perv.’ Sam kept to himself aside from when his father would rent him out to you for hours at a time. Whether it was working on your farm with the animals or house chores, he’d groan but complete each task given to him.

This weekend would be the fourth of July, and with you being the best baker in town alongside having the largest property, you’d been given many requests to host the celebration. Naturally, James became one of those many people, “So…can I come?”

“Come to what?”

“C’mon, woman, don’t make me look a fool.” You laughed in his face, holding your steering wheel.

“Alright, you can come. Bring that lil’ perv too.” James wore a large grin on his handsome face. Not only would he be given the chance to ogle your figure for a whole night, but he’d get to witness any drama that’s likely unfold between you and your husband and get the chance--- “Yer’ on beer duty. Bring a few cases and not that Busch light shit. This is a Stella Artois household.” He did a fake salute before you took his pack of cigarettes from his hand, “Thanks, baby.”

The man watched as you peeled off towards your house, likely to have some make-up sex with your husband or preoccupy yourself before the next argument. He ran a hand through his dark hair before his attention as caught by a familiar laugh. James tucked his hands into his pockets and walked around the side of the mart. There, Sam sat on the curb with an unfamiliar person, trading back and forth a joint. “Samuel.”

The boy looked up, squinting through furrowed eyebrows. James was close to grabbing him by the collar but held back. Sam stood and wiped his hands on his shirt. “Wanna keep it?” His friend offered the joint to Sam.

“Fuck off.” He murmured before climbing into his Father’s truck. James wiped sweat off his brow and stared down his son, “Grounded. I know, I know, ok?”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks?! I'm nineteen!” He groaned as his father started the car and drove back home. “That’s fucked.”

“Stop swearin’! Y’know what’s fucked? You bein’ a lowlife behind the damn corner store!”

The young man watched the fields beyond the window, homes and livestock littered the lot. “There’s nothin’ to do in this fuckin’ town!”

“You watch your damn words, boy. I don’t want to hear you switchin’ at the mouth again.” He took a breath and gripped the steering wheel tighter. “We’re goin’ to the L/n’s for the fourth of July.”

“I don’t want to.” He grunted, “…yer’ gonna make me anyway so whatever.” He slammed the car door shut and made his way up the porch steps.

“Damn right I will.” Sam found his housekeys and his father paused to feel the atmosphere for a moment. “Sam?”

“Yes?” He looked over his shoulder, the screen door between the two.

“No more bullshittin’.”

It took everything within the young man not to roll his eyes, “Sure.”

James held two cases of beer and Sam carried a small box of something be refused to show his father. The two approached your house through the open front door, the scent of smoked barbeque, cigarettes, and grass filled the air. Warm toned lights lit up the inside as well as the outside of the home. The sound of a few kids playing by the far stable, their laughs and giggles were drowned out by music, adults laughing and rushing wind. The Texas sun sat low in the sky, ready to take a dip below the sky within the hour.

James placed the beers on the back porch and began greeting a few neighbors. It didn’t take long before he found you, leaning on the white fence near the grill as your husband flipped ribs. A bottle in your left hand and a lipstick-stained cigarette between your fingers.

*For your attire, reference the header photo.*

Your arms went over your husbands’ shoulders as you smirked, “Welcome, Studs.” Your eyes switched between the father in a faded, black ‘Don’t mess with Texas’ shirt and black cowboy boots and his son in something identical.

As your husband spoke to the two, exchanging pleasantries and catching up, the two were clearly distracted by your body in the form-fitting short overalls. A catholic cross rest between your breasts from a gold necklace. “…yeah.” James loosely followed what your husband was saying as his eyes switched to you every few seconds.

Dark hair cascaded over your shoulders and left eye as you spoke, “I’m gonna get another beer.” James watched as you left; The way your overalls hung open by a zipper, putting your ample cleavage on full display, made his cock twitch in his pants. The shorts hugged your wide hips and the curve of your ass, showing off your shapely legs.

You watched as a few of the older kids placed the beer he brought into the coolers and took one from the very bottom. James couldn't keep his eyes from drifting down to your exposed chest, his gaze lingering on the swell of your breasts. He imagined leaning down and burying his face in your cleavage, motorboating your tits until he couldn't breathe.

“U-uhm,” Sam stuttered as your hips switched with every strut; your ass round and distracting.

James placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, “Samuel.” For a moment, the two froze as you smiled their way. The corners of your red lips lifted as the breeze blew through the dark strands of hair. “Sam, go keep yourself busy. Don't cause trouble, ya heard?"

Sam rolled his eyes, a habit that was becoming all too common. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, trudging off with the box as his boots pressed in the soft grass. James watched Sam disappear into the crowded backyard, blending into the sea of people. He knew the sullen teenager would likely find a dark corner to hide in, probably with his headphones on, tuning out the festivities.

James stepped inside the house after he grabbed a cold beer from the cooler; he popped the cap off on the edge of the counter and took a long swig, relishing the cool liquid as it slid down his throat. James felt a stirring in his jeans as he watched you move through the crowd, greeting guests with a warm smile and a friendly word; a few unique swears left your mouth as you gossiped with a few friends.

He looked down to adjust his appearance some and in his view, a pair of dusty red cowgirl boots rest on either side of his. James turned his head up, the sweet scent of your perfume mingled with the smoky barbeque and cigarettes. “Need anythin’, Kelly?” He took another swig of his beer, his tongue darting out to lick the stray droplets from his lips.

“’M good for now, Darlin’.” He drawled; his voice low as you spoke closely. “I’ll be sure to come to you if I do.”

“Don’t hesitate. Yer’ ma’ guest after all.” He could feel his pulse quicken, sure that his erection could touch your leg if you moved any closer. You looked like a vision tonight, and he felt the urge to lap your legs up on the counter and spread you like a full course meal.

But he restrained himself. You’re in a house full of people from towns over and it’d be beyond inappropriate. He reached up and tucked a strand of dark hair behind your ear. “This hair all yours?” He wasn’t a stranger to you country girls and your love for extensions: Bigger, the better. But when it came to you, he could never tell.

“Belongs to me if I paid for it.”

“Ain’t wrong.” You smiled. “I got a request. Anything stronger than beer I could drink? I know you got a cellar.” His hand came up to rest on the counter beside your hip, caging you in slightly. The heat of his palm seeped through the thin fabric of your shorts, making your skin prickle with goosebumps. “Now, don’t lie, pretty girl.” You tapped your chin before slipping your hand into the tuck of his waistband. “Careful.” He said softly as you brought him closer to you in the room full of unassuming neighbors.

He was close enough now that you could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes, could count the dark lashes that framed them. Close enough to see the sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his hair curled slightly at his hairline. He was a rugged, masculine sight, and you felt a sudden flush of heat between your thighs. “What kinda drink are you lookin’ to sip?”

“Whisky, neat.”

“Brown liquor?” He nods once. “Aged for how long?” He only smiled before he finished off the rest of his beer in one long swig before setting the empty bottle down on the counter with a clunk.

James reached out and took your hand, his calloused fingers intertwining with your softer ones. He gave a gentle tug, pulling you towards the side door. "Go on, sweetheart. I’m right behind.”

As you both stepped out into the warm summer evening, the sounds of cicadas and laughter weren’t far behind. James followed close behind you; his eyes glued to the gentle sway of your hips as you walked. The denim of your cutoffs hugged those beautiful curves like a second skin, and he could see the way the muscles of your ass flexed with each step. He felt a twitch in his jeans, his cock starting to stir to life stiffly.

As you descended the creaky wooden steps into the cool, dark cellar, James reached out and placed two hands on your hips, his fingers splaying across the soft denim details. He pulled you back against his chest, fitting your curves to the ridges of his body.

"Careful now," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Wouldn't want ya to trip in the dark."

“What a gentleman.” You could feel the heat radiating off him, could smell the musky scent of his skin, tinged with cigarette smoke and beer. It was intoxicating to say the least. You managed to pull yourself from him and raise a large switch. The large cellar was soon lit by rows of warm, industrial brightness. “My husband’s ‘retirement fund.”

“Well, I wanna taste of what’s his.” He said as your hands wrapped around a bottle of Sir Davis bourbon. Red nails dragged along the top of the cap as you stared up at him with Whisky colored eyes.

“James…”

From behind a shelf aisle, Sam tussled his dark hair with a joint between his fingertips. He adjusted the denim jacket over his shoulders and froze upon seeing you and his father. His face went pale, cheeks slightly pinked. “…am I in trouble?”

“What’re’ya doing in here, boy?” James asked and stepped out from behind your curves.

Sam stuttered for a moment as he slipped the joint into his pocket. “Hell, I was-” He shrugged, “Organizing.”

“Organizing? Lil’ perv, I haven’t had you organize my cellar since December.” Sam sucked his teeth after you spoke. He wasn’t sure how he ended up in here after a few hits from the joint, but he could feel the clear tension in the air. He couldn’t tell if it was directed at him or not---

“I- I didn’t know anyone else was down here.” The young man bit his lip as he tried his hardest to pull his eyes from the model of a woman that stood with a bottle of whisky in her hands. “Just needed a minute alone.”

James snapped his fingers, “Ya had ya minute---”

“Wanna see somethin’ cool?” You asked Sam with a smile. His eyes switched between his father’s annoyed expression to your alluring one. He nodded at you.

James's brows furrowed as he turned his glare onto you, his grip on your hips tightening possessively. "[Y/n]." he warned, his tone low. "Don't go gettin' any ideas about my kid. He doesn't need to be learnin' any of your tricks."

“My tricks?” You laughed and held a hand over your bosom. “Lighten up, Jameson.” You purred and turned back to Sam with a warm smile. He drew closer to the island in the middle of the cellar. “See this here, boy?” You held up the bottle for him to see. Due to the aging, the bottle’s label was worn, some parts unreadable.

“Yes, Ma’am, I do.” Sam swallowed hard, his eyes flicking between you and his Father. He could see the way James was looking at you, could feel the tension crackling in the air between you both.

You opened a drawer behind you and took a drink smoker, aged orange peels and a few pieces of wood. “[Y/n].” James growled, “Ain’t sure this is a good idea.”

“What?” You shrugged and looked at Sam, “You’ve drank before. You let ‘em drink beer.”

“That’s different.” James snapped. He could care less about his son tasting the whisky. James wanted you to himself in this cellar! How did he even get down here?

Sam watched as you smoked wood chips and the orange peel into the drink to enhance the flavors. “I’m gonna drink it, Dad.” He said sure of himself as you poured three glasses. The two watched as you raised your glass and let the amber liquor slosh around in the glass.

The scent of the alcohol was strong in their noses as they both took a glass. The strong scent burned the inside of Sam’s nose as he inhaled the orange, and cherry wood undertones. “Cheers.” You said sweetly as you held up your glass for a toast.

The three glasses came together for a crystal ‘clink’. In the light of the cellar, Sam hesitated before taking a few sips. Each one sweeter than the last. James threw back the bit of alcohol and placed the glass down. “Fuck.” He hissed and glared at you. James, thought og ushering his boy upstairs and leaving you be like a good neighbor and father, and letting things be…but you made it impossible with that smile, those chestnut-colored eyes…

An hour later, you leaned on the wooden island, maybe on your fourth glass. James slumped against the wall beside you; his eyes bleary as he tried to focus on your blurry form beside him. You were laughing, a high, tinkling sound that echoed off the stone walls and mingled with the pounding of his ears. Sam was still there to James’s dismay, his pale face flushed, and his eyes glazed over, a stupid grin plastered on his face as he listened to your chatter.

James's tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth as he tried to form words, to tell you to slow down, to be careful with his boy. But nothing came out right, his words slurring together into incoherent mumblings. He could feel a growing sense of uncertainty, a prickling at the back of his neck that told him this was a mistake, a huge fucking mistake.

He’d heard about you around the neighborhood. Before you got married, a Jezebel, a hussy, a minx, a slut--- the whole nine. He hadn’t cared too much until it came to his boy. James huffed. Well, Sam isn’t a little boy anymore. Sure, he’s nineteen but he still lives under his father’s roof. My roof. He ain’t goin’ to college anytime soon. Dammit, I’d miss him too much.

You beckoned Sam closer, the rattle of his spurs were heavy as he made his way over. You leaned close to Sam’s ear, your lips against the tanned skin while you giggled, whispering something. James tried his best to make it out but found it difficult with how loud his thoughts were. “[Y/n].” Your eyes flickered to James as your hand rest high on Sam’s thigh. Sam stared down at you with a mix of awe and fear, eyes wide.

“Yes, sir?”

“What’re’ya doin’?” He stepped closer to you; a hard rattle of his own spurs rang as he pushed you both apart.

“Showin’ him somethin’. Ain’t that right, Sam?” False innocence rang off your tongue.

Sam swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, “Y- yes, Ma’am.” There was a tremor in his voice, barely noticeable as he held your hip.

“None of that.” James grumbled and pushed you both apart. You sighed and pulled off your husband’s trucker hat before tossing it onto the island countertop.

“He’s an adult.”

“You think I dunno that?” Your head tilted dramatically as you stared deeply at the man. “Don’t say nothin’ else.” He warned, pointing a finger at your chest. Your eyes lowered down the digit before you gently kissed the tip. Perhaps you really were a whole lotta woman, too much to handle at times. “Yer’ a slut.” You smiled, taking his finger into your mouth. You left your lipstick stains along his finger, hands on your knees.

Sam’s hand tightened on your hip once more as he watched your relaxed lips along his father’s forefinger. You pulled away and took the son’s belt buckle into your hand as you pulled him towards the back of the cellar. “…Dad.” Sam said breathlessly.

“Mhh, call for yer’ daddy.”

James cleared his throat. He couldn’t deny that you referring to him as ‘daddy’ made his cock jump in his pants. But this, this is indecent. He wanted you like no other. To take you to the floor and bury himself inside of your cunt until dawn but he couldn’t do this with his son right there! He stuttered your name before he managed out, “Y/n. C’mon, now. Yer’ husband’s lookin’ for ya. I’m sure of it.” He rubbed his neck.

You didn’t move from your place as Sam rest his lips on the soft skin of your neck; Instead, you reach for his father’s shirt and pulled him closer. “Kiss me.” Sweet as Louisiana bourbon, your voice rang in his head.

He placed two hands around your head, fingers sunk into the silky strands as he kissed your red lips. He melted onto your body as his whiskey breath mingled with yours. Your back pressed against a few rows of wine as the men pushed up on you. Sam fumbled with his buckle and with a sudden touch, your hand made its way into his jeans.

James’s tongue hungrily lapped at yours, his teeth took small bites of your bottom lip, messily consuming every kiss given. His fingertips pulled at the zipper to your overalls until your breasts left the confines of the denim.

His son's whimpers and moans filled the air as your hand worked feverishly over his cock, stroking and squeezing the hard flesh until Sam was bucking wildly into your touch. “You’re adorable.” You said though gasps as his father pulled you against his body, kissing your nipples.

Sam whined as he followed your expression. His whine dissolved into a low, drawn-out moan as your thumb swiped over the sensitive head of his cock, smearing the bead of precum that had leaked from the tip.

You placed a gentle hand on the back of James’s head, fingers sinking into his dark hair. James could feel his own cock throbbing almost painfully in the confines of his jeans, the denim straining against his aching erection. You pulled your hand from Sam’s cock for a moment and instead guided his head down to your left breast. “Oh wow…” You moaned as the two suckled and flicked their tongues on your nipples. Two is better than one.

"Fuck, your tits taste so fuckin’ good," Sam moaned around a mouthful of soft, pillowy flesh. He sucked harder, his teeth sinking into the tender skin as he bucked his hips in time with the strokes of your hand on his aching cock.

James dragged his tongue over the sensitive nipple before drawing it into his mouth, suckling greedily as his hand continued to knead and squeeze the plump flesh. The sensations of their hot mouths on your tits was enough to make you pant, your focus on their identical, cerulean eyes as they stared up at your dazed expression. Your body writhed between the two as they feasted, “Fuckin’ hell~” You whined dryly as your head hit the shelf.

“Got a lighter?” Your husband asked the man beside him as he crouched in the far pasture with the crowd of people. He offered the man his lighter and watched as the tail of the fuse spark. The few people pushed back as the firework shot towards the navy-blue sky. The sound was loud as it popped red, white and blue colors in the sky. “Alright, easy enough.”

“I’ve got more in the truck.” Your husband began to follow the man to the truck bed.

“Auntie, it sounds like guns!” A kid giggled, making play guns with his small fingers.

“It does, honey.” She nodded, pulling him along.

Your husband paused in the grass, hands on his hips, “Guns. Where’s that woman?” He pushed dark hair from his eyeline and squinted as he searched the crowd for your face.

You bent over an aging barrel, your hands on Sam’s hips as you sucked and slobbered on his cock. James could hear your muffled moans vibrating around Sam's thick cock as he buried his face between your shapely ass cheeks, his tongue delving deep into your dripping cunt. The taste of your sweetness flooded his senses, the slightly salty flavor of your sweat coated his tongue as he lapped and suckled at your slick folds.

Sam groaned, his fingers tangling in your dark hair as he fucked your face with short, sharp thrusts. "Fuck me…your throat is like velvet..."

James could only growl in response, the sound muffled against your fat ass as he feasted on your pussy like a man starved. He could feel your hips rocking back against his mouth, could hear your whimpers and cries growing louder and more desperate as he brought you closer to the edge. He slapped your ass firmly and watched as it reddened under his touch. “You like that, don’t ya’, rawhide?”

You groaned; saliva pooled on the top of the barrel and down your large breasts as you gagged on Sam’s shaft. “M- mhm~”

“Got a mouthful of dick now, don’t’cha, Rawhide?” James laughed as he unbuckled his jeans, boots apart in a firm pose. His throbbing erection had created a large stain of precum in his boxers. “Good girl.” He cooed as your pussy clenched with anticipation for his thick cock.

You whined as Sam filled your throat and kept your head against his crotch. You took deep inhales as your eyes watered. “It feels so good when you choke.” His eyes fell back in his head as you turned your head to the side. “Perfect…”

James held a handful of your ass and spreads your pussy some. He admired the sopping muscle as if it were calling his name. There was no doubt that your body had every curve he desired, he didn’t have time to doubt himself: if he could last in this juicy pussy or not. “You on the pill, rawhide?” You couldn’t get a ‘yes’ out as Sam smirked, bucking into your throat like a machine. James held himself in his own fist, guiding his cockhead along the folds of your hot pussy. He gripped your hips firmly and pushed one of your legs up to keep them spread.

Fireworks popped beyond the open cellar doors. Cheers and yells found their way inside the lower storage as you lay over the barrel.

With a heated thrust, James found his way inside of your pussy. Only half of his length rest inside of you as you whimpered, clinging to the wooden barrel. James started at a gentle pace; his eyes twitched from the feel of your perfect walls around his cock. Never had you been stretched like this, his cock like a punishment and a reward as he bucked his hips into your ass. James leaned over your back, his chest pressing against your sweat-slicked skin as he growled filthy words into your ear. "This fucking pussy belongs to me now, Rawhide.”

He punctuated his dark promise with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass as he buried himself as deep as physically possible. Your fingernails dug into the wood, creating sharp cuts along the mahogany. His shaft rubbed your g-spot as his cockhead roughly bucked against your cervix. “Don’t run from this dick, baby.” Your eyelids twitched as he spoke in your ear.

He could feel your velvet walls clenching and fluttering around his pistoning shaft, gripping him so kindly as he slammed into you again and again. James knew he was getting close, could feel the telltale tightening in his heavy balls, the way they drew up close to his body as his orgasm approached.

But he couldn’t cum. He wouldn’t because he refused to let you do the same.

He slowed his brutal thrusts, his hips rolling in a deep, grinding circle against your ass as he leaned down to growl in your ear. "No, rawhide.” You whimpered, your hard nipples brushing on the cold barrel. “Ya’ don't get to cum yet, ya’ filthy mare," James sneered, his voice a low, menacing rasp. "Not until I say you can." He reached around to roughly palm your breast, pinching and twisting your nipple hard enough to make you pull from Sam’s cock and cry out. “There you go, let me hear you.” He pulled your head back with a fistful of hair, his lips on your ear.

“M- mh! James~”

“It’s what ya’ wanted, right?” Your back arched with his thrusts; your pussy clenched in a futile attempt to slow his strokes. “Relax that pussy before I spank it.” You stuttered as you nodded. Dust and old bottles rattled and clattered from the force of his fucking, the nearby shelves creaking ominously. "Look at her, son," James growled, his voice ragged, "Look at this dirty slut, getting fucked like the whore she is." He punctuated his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass and forcing a sharp cry from your lips. "Getting’ used like a goddamn fuck toy, just like she was made for."

Sam stroked himself quickly as he watched your breasts bounce, your knees buckled, and your eyes fell back into your head. “Tell ‘em what you are, rawhide.”

“I- I’mma whore.” He could see your eyes rolling back, your tongue lolling out as you took the relentless pounding. The sight of you in such a state of desperate, cock-drunk bliss only turned the two on more.

“That’s right, baby.” James could feel his own release building, his balls drawing up tight as he fucked into your dripping cunt with short, sharp jabs. He was getting close, so fucking close, but he held back, determined to deny you the orgasm you were so desperately begging for. “Stop bein’ a pervert and finish this whore off.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam stumbled forward eagerly, gripping your hair and yanking your mouth onto his throbbing cock before you even had a chance to catch your breath. He hilted himself in your throat once more, his heavy balls slapping obscenely against your chin as he started to fuck your face with brutal thrusts. “I…I’m gonna cum.” Sam gasped out, his fingers tangling almost painfully in your hair as he forced you to take him to his dark bush.

You could only gargle as James took your wrists in his hands while you bent over. “Pretty little rawhide. You wanna cum, baby?”

A few whistles were followed by an arrangement of fireworks as they exploded beautiful colors into the sky. At the front of the house, a striped flag waved in the rough wind. Your husband sat on the side porch with a cigar as he listened to the sounds of your needy whimpers and moans.

James could see the desperate, almost feral look in your eyes as you nodded frantically, your throat working around Sam's pistoning cock. He could tell you were right on the edge, teetering on the brink of the most intense orgasm of your life. The way your velvet walls clenched around his deepening shaft told him everything he needed to know - this dirty girl was fucking gagging for it, absolutely aching to be allowed to cum.

"You keep fuckin’ that whore's throat, son. Don't you dare let her catch her breath." Sam groaned in response, gripping your head tighter as he tried to best to hold out his orgasm.

In an instant, James snarled in dark triumph as he felt your pussy clench and spasm around his pistoning cock, your release overtaking you despite his orders. You squirted sprays of your sweetness onto the floor of the cellar, your knees faltered under you, leaning on the men for support. “Like a fuckin’ bunny in heat...couldn’t keep from cummin’.”

“Why do you call her ‘rawhide’?” Sam asked before taking a swig or his beer.

They sat on the porch rocking chairs as the midnight breeze came in, “She’s a hard worker.”

a/n: will be my last threesome fic for a while. They are starting to enter my dreams...anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading.

Asked to go back to this taglist three times now. I understand!

@littlestpadfoot @thescxrpio @fullclodponycop @kirbie44danielle @duck6789 @mcxdiaz @maneater97 @swiftiesimonriley @yeonjinnie @laddle @daughterofstairs @edenizzyx @eymie @xxhvzelxx @bored-as-fuck @viviennebloom @jujustarwars1 @kaaaatta-blog @javierpenaspentis @cherrylvrsworld @finnyboob @nouschkaa @blackkhir4 @ilovepurple31 @smiling-is-suffering @kellyburkesblog @decaffeinatedcrowntragedy @kaggelagge @naomiisme2 @heretonerdout @reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @xlovingyoux @hakanaijeon @skywalkershootme @avenjames-anderson @vixenhatesyou @meowmeowjang @slingggshot @cdfvgbhnjm @peachpit31 @carterc15 @smithcaityy @sisterofreverance @hellomwah @blondiebatter @aqqjjk @radiantvader @anthrais @xhino3 @valyna27 @wuxianwrld @discobronzer @melaninswift @justthingzsblog @stanyuqisworld @ppoppy-seed @fawninthesnow @sunwxoxo @santinstar @sydkneez @mvst4fa

Dividers (as always) from @cursed-carmine

More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

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shaunashipman · 4 months ago

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i told my friend i would find him some beginner’s giffing tutorials, but all the one’s i could find were either years out of date, used a method that made me go “huh”, or incorporated ready-made actions. all perfectly fine, but if i’m sending someone a tutorial i’d rather it be one for a method i understand enough to help with.

so, here is a beginner’s guide to giffing, as told by cleo, a neurotic, detailed, and organization happy individual. there will be many pictures.

this tutorial will strictly cover the gif making portion of the process, from getting your screencaps to importing in photoshop, resizing/cropping, and sharpening. i was going to briefly go over colouring, but tumblr only allows 30 images and i ran out of space, so i'll have to do a separate colouring tutorial (which also means i can go into more detail, yay).

downloading the videos, whether direct downloads or t*rrents, is also another tutorial. but make sure you’re using at least 1080p, and the bigger the file the better. a single episode of a ~45 minute show should ideally be 2gb at minimum. a full length movie should ideally be at least 5gb. imo 2160p/4k files are not really necessary; the quality increase is negligible, and it takes a lot longer to screencap them. if you do use 2160p/4k files, try and make sure it is not HDR, as those videos are often washed out and require a different screencapping program to fix.

Programs

I am using a cracked version photoshop 2022, but whichever version you use should be pretty much the same

Actions. not a program but a function inside photoshop, where you essentially record a series of steps, and then you can simple play that action when needed and those steps will repeat, which saves considerable time when giffing. I will note which parts of the tutorial are best saved as actions, and explain how to create actions at the end.

For screencapping i use kmplayer it’s free and very simple to use

not at all a necessary program, but i use freecommander instead of the regular windows file explorer as i find the dual panels very helpful when moving the frames around

Screencapping

there are many programs you can use to get the screencaps from a video, a lot are basically the same, some are better suited for particular video file types. kmplayer is a very simple program to use, but afaik the capture function only works on mkv. files (the only other file type i’ve tried is mp4, which plays but does not capture)

once you open your video file in kmplayer, we’re going to open the advanced capture window, found under capture→advanced capture, or alt+v

the window should look like this

A-this is where all your screencaps will save to. i recommend making a specific folder for all your screencaps

B-make sure this is set to png for best quality

C-this is the number of screencaps you want to take, guesstimate how many you will need, keeping in mind that most videos are approx. 25 frames per second, and you should always cap a bit more than you think just in case

D-make sure “every/frame” is selected and set to 1

E-make sure “original” is selected, resizing will be done in photoshop

F-make sure “correct aspect ratio” is unselected

go to the part of the video you want to gif, and pause it just slightly before that part starts, then select ‘start’. the screencaps will start to save to the file, no need to play the video, and will automatically stop once it has capped the number of frames you have chosen

and here is how they look inside freecommander. i have already made a folder for this gifset, which is on the left. now you’re going to make a folder for each individual gif. i’ve decided this one will have four gifs, so create four folders (i just label them gif 01, gif 02, etc) and then move the frames for each gif into their respective folder

while you can always delete frames once the gif is made if it’s too big, i prefer to make sure i have the correct number of frames before i start. the gif limit on tumblr is 10mb, so it’s good to look at the scene/shots you’re giffing and decide approx. what dimensions your gif will be. full size gifs have a width of 540px and your choice of height. if you go for a square gif (540x540) you can usually fit 40-50 frames. if you’re planning for a smaller height (such as 540x400) you can usually fit more around 50-60 frames.

and here are the caps inside the folders. another reason i like freecommander is it’s ability to “multi-rename” files. the default file explorer can do so as well, but you have to do each folder individually and you can’t customize the new names as much. either way, i prefer to rename the files to each gif just to scratch my organization itch.

Introduction to Photoshop

NOTE: i have changed many of my keyboard shortcuts in photoshop to ones i prefer, so any you see listed in the menus of these screenshots are likely not the original shortcuts. you can see and change them yourself under edit→keyboard shortcuts

quick run-down of the photoshop interface. i have adjusted placement of some things from the default so this isn’t exactly how your photoshop will look when you open it, but everything is labelled, either on top or by hovering over the element. once you’re more familiar and have your process down i would recommend adjusting the workspace to suit your process.

A-your main tools and colour selector. almost all the tools have either several tools in one, or have alternate options which can be accessed by right-clicking the tool. you can also hover over each tool to get a pop-up with a quick explanation of the tool

B-additional “windows” such as history, properties, actions etc. can be opened from the window menu at the top and moved around with click-and-drag. history and properties should already be there by default, but probably on the right hand side instead. each window opens and closes with a click

C-the timeline window where the gif is made. the white square is a single frame of a gif, and on the row below is the play controls. this will not be there by default and will need to be opened from the window menu

D-adjustment layers for colouring

E-layers box. this is where the screencaps will show, along with adjustment layers, text layers, etc.

Opening Screencaps in Photoshop

go to file → open navigate to the folder for your first gif, select the first screencap, and check the image sequencing, and click open

a window will open labelled frame rate. set it to 23.976 and select ok

the screencaps will open in the timeline view, seen as the blue panel line at the bottom, and the screencaps are combined into video layer in the layer panel on the right.

Creating Frames

technically, you could go right into your cropping/resizing and sharpening from here, however if you do that directly then you have to keep the screencaps in the folders you have, otherwise if you save and re-open the gif it won’t move.

this next part should be made into an action.

at the top right of the timeline window, click four vertical lines to open the menu and select convert frames → flatten frames into clips. depending on how long the gif is, this can take a minute.

the layers panel should now look like this, each frame of the gif is now its own layer.

the very bottom layer will be the video group. this can be deleted as we’ve made the frames from it

in same timeline menu as before, right under “flatten frames into clips”, select “convert to frame animation” and the screen should now look like this. this will be the end of this action.

Cropping and Resizing

with widescreen footage, sometimes it’s just shorter than 1080p, but most of the time it will have the black bars on the top and bottom, and frustratingly, they’re not always the same size. it’s good to save the most common sizes as actions.

to find the size of the actual screen you turn on the rulers under view→rulers and check the height. then open your canvas size dialogue box under image→canvas size and change the height, making sure pixels are selected in the dropdown. yellowjackets is what i call “xtra wide” which is 800px. “normal” widescreen is 960px.

next we’re going to resize the caps. i also make actions for this, one for each potential gif size. open the image size dialogue box under image→image size and change the height of the image to your desired height plus 4 pixels. these extra pixels are to prevent a line at the top and/or bottom of your completed gif. now re-open the canvas size box, change the width to 540px, and the height to the desired, removing those 4 extra pixels. i have set this one to 540x540. this is where you would end the resizing action.

and as you can see she is off-screen. select the top layer, hold down shift and select the bottom layer to select them all, and with the move tool (the very top one) activated, click and drag to move it left to right as needed to centre the figure/s. as you move it a box will appear telling you how far you are moving it in any direction. make sure you are only moving it left or right, not up or down. to be certain of that, open the properties tab.

the y axis is your up/down, x is left/right. for this gif the y needs to stay at -98. you can also manually change the x axis number instead of dragging the image. also helpful for making sure multiple gifs of the same shot are all positioned the same.

the layer are currently ordered with the 1st at the top and the last at the bottom. with all layers still selected, go to layers→arrange→reverse. the last layer will be on top now. if there is movement in your gif, check if you need to alter the position again to make sure the movement properly centred. but once you are satisfied with the position, the layers should be in “reverse” position, of last layer on top. this is to ensure that the gif plays forwards.

Converting Gif

this should also be made into an action, going through sharpening process

in the timeline menu, select “make frames from layers”

the frames are now populated in animation window. in timeline, click select all frames. go to any of the frames on the bottom and click the little arrow beneath it, select other, and enter 0.07 seconds. this is not a necessary step, as we will have to adjust the frame rate at the end, most likely to 0.05, but if we don’t change the frame rate here, then when we play the gif while working on it to check how it looks, it will play very fast.

in the same menu at the right of the timeline box, select “convert to video timeline”

then, making sure all layers in the panel on the right are selected, go to filter→convert for smart filters. this turns all the layers into a single smart object.

but if you look where i’ve circled, it says the gif is 99 frames long*, when in fact there are only 47. if you are making regular “scene” gifs, basic colouring and maybe a caption, this is fine and does not need to be fixed, it will play at the same speed. if you want to change it to display (approx.**) the correct number of frames, go to the timeline menu on the right, select “set timeline frame rate” and change it from 30 to 15

*if it does not list a frame number by 4 digits but instead says 5f, 10f, 15f, etc. go to the timeline menu on the right, select panel options, and change timeline units to “frame number”

**the reason why this is only approximate is because the actual frame rate is not a a whole number, so when changing the frame rate it isn’t a 1:1, and 47 frames becomes 50 frames. the extra frames are removed at the very end, but if you are not doing any edits that require working frame by frame, there’s no need to change the frame rate here at all

Sharpening

this is, as it sounds, making the gif look sharper. to start go to filter→sharpen→smart sharpen and this window opens. play around with the dials to see what each ones does. the below settings are good for most high quality footage.

Amount-basically, how sharp do you want it

Radius-hard to explain, but this essentially sets how deep the lines of the sharpness are

Reduce Noise-smooths the pixels

once you click okay your single layer should look like this.

you’re going to then right click the layer and select duplicate layer. with the top layer selected, go to filters→blur→gaussian blur and set the radius to 1.0 pixels.

then change the opacity of the top layer to 10%. this is to essentially soften the sharpening a bit, as if it’s too sharp it can make the colouring wonky. this opacity level can also be changed depending on need.

finally, select both layers, right click, and click “group from layers”. your gif is now fully made and sharpened.

Colouring

yeah. ran out of image space. but this is where you would do your colouring and add a caption or any other text.

Converting & Exporting

when all your colouring is done, you’re ready to start saving your gif. you can do it directly from your current file, but that means essentially losing your colouring, as all those layers will be merged together. i am someone who likes to save my psd’s (photoshop files), at least until i’ve posted the gifs, in case i need to fix something in the colouring. if you’d like to keep yours as well, open the history tab and select the first icon at the bottom “create new document from current state”. this will open a copy of the file in a new tab. save the original file and you can close it, continuing all work on the copy file.

select your all your layers, convert them into a smart object from filter->convert for smart filters, then follow the same steps from Creating Frames above. once you're back in frame animation, select Create Frames From Layers, and once again set the frame animation speed.

most people set the speed to 0.05. i personally set it to 0.05 or 0.06 depending on the length of the gif. check how it looks at 0.05, if it seems too fast, try 0.06.

now to save. go to file->export->save for web (legacy). the number is the lower left corner is your gif size, it needs to be under 10mb or else you'll have to delete some frames.

the right panel is your save options. the preset dropdown has some built-in settings, but you won't use them because (at least on my version) the presets only go up to 128 colours, instead of the full 256. the 3 i've highlighted in green are the only one's you'll adjust as needed. the settings below i use for i'd say 90% of my gifs. i'll sometimes change the adaptive dropdown to one of the other options, ocaissionaly the diffusion, and rarely the no transparency dither, but play around with them and see how they change the look of the gif.

when you're satisfied with the look of your gif, click save at the bottom right of the window.

voilà! you now have a gif.

Actions

this is your actions panel. the triangle on the left side is the button to open it. remember, if it's not already there, go to windows->actions to open it.

the buttons on the bottom, left to right, are stop recording, record action, play action, new folder, new action, and delete.

as you can see, i have different folders for my resizing, sharpening, captions, saving, and my 1 step (temporary) actions. to run an action is very simple; click the action, and click play.

to create an action, click the new action button, a box will pop up, give the action a name, and click record. the record button at the bottom of the action window will turn red. now perform all the steps you want it to record, and click stop recording. keep in mind it will record every single thing you do, including in other open files, so if the action you plan to record will have a lot of steps, it might help to write them down first.

to modify an action, select the step in the action above where you'd like the new step to be, hit record, perform the step, stop recording. select the step you'd like to delete, and click the delete button.

steps within the actions can be clicked and dragged, both within that action and moved to other actions. actions can also be moved between folders.

#tutorial #gif tutorial #photoshop tutorial #gifmakerresource #completeresources #*tutorials

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months ago

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Petard, Part III

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/01/miskatonic-networks/#landlord-telco-industrial-complex

Last week, Trump's FCC chair Brendan Carr reversed a rule that banned your landlord from taking kickbacks in exchange for forcing you to use whatever ISP was willing to pay the biggest bribe for the right to screw you over:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2025/01/fcc-chair-nixes-plan-to-boost-broadband-competition-in-apartment-buildings/

Corporate fascists and their captured regulators are, of course, that most despicable of creatures: they are plagiarists. Like so many of our tech overlords, they have mistaken dystopian sf as a suggestion, rather than as a warning. I take this personally, because I actually wrote this as an sf story in 2013, and it was published in 2014 in MIT Tech Review's Twelve Tomorrows, edited by Bruce Sterling and published in 2014:

https://mitpress.mit.edu/9780262535595/twelve-tomorrows-2014/

I adapted it for my podcast, in four installments:

https://archive.org/details/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_278

https://archive.org/details/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_292

https://archive.org/details/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_293

https://archive.org/details/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_294_-_Petard_04

And, given the new currency of this old story, I thought it was only fitting that I serialize it here, on my blog, also in four parts.

Here's part one:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/30/landlord-telco-industrial-complex/#part-one

Here's part two:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/31/the-blood-speech/#part-two

And now, onto part three:

One of the early Ftp code contributors was now CTO for an ISP, and they'd gotten their start as a dorm co-op at Brown that had metastasized across New England. Sanjay had been pretty important to the early days of Ftp, helping us get the virtualization right so that it could run on pretty much any cloud without a lot of jiggery and/or pokery. Within a day of emailing Sanjay, I was having coffee with the vice-president of business development for Miskatonic Networks, who was also Sanjay's boyfriend's girlfriend, because apparently ISPs in New England are hotbeds of Lovecraft-fandom polyamory. Her name was Kadijah and she had a southie accent so thick it was like an amateur theater production of Good Will Hunting.

"The Termite Mound?" She laughed. "Shit yeah, I know that place. It's still standing? I went to some super sketchy parties there when I was a kid, I mean sooooper sketchy, like sketch-a-roony. I can't believe no one's torched the place yet."

"Not yet," I said. "And seeing as all my stuff's there right now, I'm hoping that no one does for the time being."

"Yeah, I can see that." I could not get over her accent. It was the most Bostonian thing I'd encountered since I got off the train. "OK, so you want to know what we'd charge to provide service to someone at the Termite Mound?"

"Uh, no. I want to know what you'd charge per person if we could get you the whole Mound — every unit in the residence. All 250 of them."

"Oh." She paused a second. "This is an Ftp thing, right?"

"Yeah," I said. "That's how I know Sanjay. I, uh, I started Ftp." I don't like to brag, but sometimes it makes sense in the context of the conversation, right?

"That was you? Wicked! So you're seriously gonna get the whole dorm to sign up with us?"

"I will if you can get me a price that I can sell to them," I said.

"Oh," she said. Then "Oh! Right. Hmm. Leave it with me. You say you can get them all signed up?"

"I think so. If the price is right. And I think that if the Termite Mound goes with you that there'll be other dorms that'll follow. Maybe a lab or two," I said. I was talking out of my ass at this point, but seriously, net-censorship in the labs at MIT? It was disgusting. It could not stand.

"Damn," she said. "Sounds like you're majoring in Ftp. Don't you have classes or something?"

"No," I said. "This is basically exactly what I figured college would be like. A cross between summer camp and an Stanford obedience experiment. If all I wanted to do was cram a bunch of knowledge into my head, I could have stayed home and mooced it. I came here because I wanted to level up and fight something tough and even dangerous. I want to spend four years getting into the right kind of trouble. Going to classes too, but seriously, classes? Whatever. Everyone knows the good conversations happen in the hallway between the formal presentations. Classes are just an excuse to have hallways."

She looked skeptical and ate banana bread.

"It's your deal," she said.

I could hear the but hanging in the air between us. She went and got more coffees and brought them back along with toasted banana bread dripping with butter for me. She wouldn't let me pay, and told me it was on Miskatonic. We were a potential big account. She didn't want to say "But" because she might offend me. I wanted to hear the "but."

"But?"

"But what?"

"It's my deal but…?"

"But, well, you know, you don't look after your grades, MIT'll put you out on your ass. That's how it works in college. I've seen it."

I chewed my banana bread.

"Hey," she said. "Hey. Are you OK, Lukasz?"

"I'm fine," I said.

She smiled at me. She was pretty. "But?"

I told her about my talk with AA, and about Juanca, and about how I felt like nobody was giving me my propers, and she looked very sympathetic, in a way that made me feel much younger. Like toddler younger.

"MIT is all about pranks, right? I think if I could come up with something really epic, they'd –" And as I said it, I realized how dumb it was. They laughed at me in Vienna, I'll show them! "You know what? Forget about it. I got more important things to do than screw around with those knob-ends. Work to do, right? Get the network opened up around here, you and me, Kadijah!"

"Don't let it get to you, you'll give yourself an aneurism. I'll get back to you soon, OK?"

I fished a bead out of my pocket and wedged it into my ear.

"Who is this?"

"Lukasz?" The voice was choked with tears.

"Who is this?" I said again.

"It's Bryan." I couldn't place the voice or the name.

"Bryan who?"

"From the Termite Mound's customer service desk." Then I recognized the voice. It was the elf, and he was having hysterics. Part of me wanted to say, Oh, diddums! and hang up. Because elves, AMR? But I'm not good at tough love.

"What's wrong?"

"They've fired me," he said. "I got called into my boss's office an hour ago and he told me to start drawing up a list of people to kick out of the dorm — he wanted the names of people who supported you. I was supposed to go through the EULAs for the dorm and find some violations for all of them –"

"What if they didn't have any violations?"

He made a sound between a sob and a laugh. "Are you kidding? You're always in violation! Have you read the EULA for the Mound? It's like sixty pages long."

"OK, gotcha. So you refused and you got fired?"

There was a pause. It drew out. "No," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I gave them a bunch of names, and then they fired me."

Again, I was torn between the impulse to hang up on him and to hear more. Nosiness won (nosiness always wins; bets on nosiness are a sure thing). "Nicely done. Sounds like just deserts to me. What do you expect me to do about it?" But I knew. There were only two reasons to call me after something like this: to confess his sins or to get revenge. And no one would ever mistake me for a priest.

"I've got the names they pulled. Not just this time. Every time there's been any kind of trouble in the Termite Mound, MIT Residence has turfed out the troublemakers on some bogus EULA violation. They know that no one cares about student complaints, and there's always a waiting list for rooms at the Termite Mound, it's so central and all. I kept records."

"What kind of records?"

"Hardcopies of emails. They used disappearing ink for all the dirty stuff, but I just took pictures of my screen with my drop and saved it to personal storage. It's ugly. They went after pregnant girls, kids with disabilities. Any time there was a chance they'd have to do an air quality audit or fix a ramp, I'd have to find some reason to violate the tenant out of residence." He paused a moment. "They used some pretty bad language when they talked about these people, too."

The Termite Mound should've been called the Roach Motel: turn on the lights and you'd find a million scurrying bottom-feeders running for the baseboards.

I was going to turn on the lights.

"You've got all that, huh?

"Tons of it," he said. "Going back three years. I knew that if it ever got out that they'd try and blame it on me. I wanted records."

"OK," I said. "Meet me in Harvard Square, by the T entrance. How soon can you get there?"

"I'm at the Coop right now," he said. "Using a study-booth."

"Perfect," I said. "Five minutes then?"

"I'm on my way."

The Coop's study booths had big signs warning you that everything you did there was recorded — sound, video, infrared, data — and filtered for illicit behavior. The signs explained that there was no human being looking at the records unless you did something to trip the algorithm, like that made it better. If a tree falls in the forest, it sure as shit makes a sound; and if your conversation is bugged, it's bugged — whether or not a human being listens in right then or at some time in the infinite future of that data.

I beat him to the T entrance, and looked around for a place to talk. It wasn't good. From where I stood, I could see dozens of cameras, the little button-sized dots discretely placed all around the square, each with a little scannable code you could use to find out who got the footage and what it's policy was. No one ever, ever, ever bothered to do this. Ever. EULAs were not written for human consumption: a EULA's message could always be boiled down to seven words: "ABANDON HOPE, ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE." Or, more succinctly: "YOU LOSE."

I felt bad about Bryan's job. It was his own deal, of course. He'd stayed even after he knew how evil they were. And I hadn't held a gun to his head and made him put himself in the firing line. But of course, I had convinced him to. I had led him to. I felt bad.

Bryan turned up just as I was scouting a spot at an outdoor table by an ice-cream parlor. They had a bunch of big blowing heaters that'd do pretty good white-noise masking, a good light/dark contrast between the high-noon sun and the shade of the awning that would screw up cameras' white-balance, and the heaters would wreak havoc on the infra-red range of the CCTVs, or so I hoped. I grabbed Bryan, clamping down on his skinny arm through the rough weave of his forest-green cloak and dragged him into my chosen spot.

"You got it?" I said, once we were both seated and nursing hot chocolates. I got caffeinated marshmallows; he got Thai ghost pepper-flavored — though that was mostly marketing, no way those marshmallows were over a couple thousand Scovilles.

"I encrypted it with your public key," he said, handing me a folded up paper. I unfolded it and saw that it had been printed with a stegoed QR code, hidden in a Victorian woodcut. That kind of spycraft was pretty weaksauce — the two-dee-barcode-in-a-public-domain-image thing was a staple of shitty student clickbait thrillers — but if he'd really managed to get my public key and verify it and then encrypt the blob with it, I was impressed. That was about ten million times more secure than the average fumbledick ever managed. The fact that he'd handed me a hardcopy of the URL instead of emailing it to me, well, that was pretty sweet frosting. Bryan had potential.

I folded the paper away. "What should I be looking for?"

"It's all organized and tagged. You'll see." He looked nervous. "What are you going to do with it?"

"Well, for starters, I'm going to call them up and tell them I have it."

"What?" He looked like he was going to cry.

"Come on," I said. "I'm not going to tell them where I got it. The way you tell it, I'm about to get evicted, right?"

"Technically, you are evicted. There's a process-server waiting at every entrance to the Termite Mound doing face-recognition on the whole list. Soon as you go home, bam. 48 hours to clear out."

"Right," I said. "I don't want to have to go look for a place to live while I'm also destroying these shitbirds and fixing everyone's Internet connection. Get serious. So I'm going to go and talk to Messrs Amoral, Nonmoral and Immoral and explain that I have a giant dump of compromising messages from them that I'm going public with, and it'll look really, really bad for them if they turf me out now."

It's time for a true confession. I am not nearly as brave as I front. All this spycraft stuff, all the bluster about beating these guys on their home turf, yeah, in part I'm into it — I like it better than riding through life like a foil chip-bag being swept down a polluted stream on a current of raw sewage during a climate-change-driven superstorm.

But the reality is that I can't really help myself. There's some kind of rot-fungus that infects the world. Things that are good when they're small and personal grow, and as they grow, their attack-surface grows with them, and they get more and more colonized by the fungus, making up stupid policies, doing awful stuff to the people who rely on them and the people who work for them, one particle of fungus at a time, each one just a tiny and totally defensible atomic-sized spoor of rot that piles up and gloms onto all the other bits of rot until you're a walking, suppurating lesion.

No one ever set out to create the kind of organization that needs to post a "MIT RESIDENCY LLC OPERATES A ZERO-TOLERANCE POLICY TOWARD EMPLOYEE ABUSE. YOU CAN BE FINED UP TO $2000 AND/OR IMPRISONED FOR SIX MONTHS FOR ASSAULTING A CAMPUS RESIDENCE WORKER" sign. You start out trying to do something good, then your realize you can get a little richer by making it a little worse. Your thermostat for shittiness gets reset to the new level, so it doesn't seem like much of a change to turn it a notch further towards the rock-bottom, irredeemably shitty end of the scale.

The truth is that you can get really rich and huge by playing host organism to the rot-fungus. The rot-fungus diffuses its harms and concentrates its rewards. That means that healthy organisms that haven't succumbed to the rot-fungus are liable to being devoured by giant, well-funded vectors for it — think of the great local business that gets devoured by an awful hedge-fund in a leveraged takeover, looted and left as a revolting husk to shamble on until it collapses under its own weight.

I am terrified of the rot-fungus, because it seems like I'm the only person who notices it most of the time. Think of all those places where the town council falls all over itself to lure some giant corporation to open a local factory. Don't they notice that everyone who works at places like that hates every single moment of every single day? Haven't they ever tried to converse with the customer-service bots run by one of those lumbering dinos?

I mean, sure, the bigs have giant budgets and they'll take politicians out for nice lunches and throw a lot of money at their campaigns, but don't these guardians of the public trust ever try to get their cars fixed under warranty? Don't they ever buy a train ticket? Don't they ever eat at a fast food joint? Can't they smell the rot-fungus? Am I the only one? I've figured out how to fight it in my own way. Everyone else who's fighting seems to be fighting against something else — injustice or inequality or whatever, without understanding that the fungus's rot is what causes all of those things.

I'm convinced that no normal human being ever woke up one morning and said, "Dammit, my life doesn't have enough petty bureaucratic rules, zero-tolerance policies, censorship and fear in it. How do I fix that?" Instead, they let this stuff pile up, one compromise at a time, building up huge sores suppurating with spore-loaded fluids that eventually burst free and beslime everything around them. It gets normal to them, one dribble at a time.

"Lukasz, you're don't know what you're doing. These guys, they're –"

"What?" I said. "Are they the mafia or something? Are they going to have me dropped off a bridge with cement overshoes?"

He shook his head, making the twigs and beads woven into the downy fluff of his hair clatter together. "No, but they're ruthless. I mean, totally ruthless. They're not normal."

The way he said it twinged something in my hindbrain, some little squiggle of fear, but I pushed it away. "Yeah, that's OK. I'm used to abnormal." I am the most abnormal person I know.

"Be careful, seriously," he said.

"Thanks, Bryan," I said. "Don't worry about me. You want me to try and get your room back, too?"

He chewed his lip. "Don't," he said. "They'll know it was me if you do that."

I resisted the urge to shout at him to grow a spine. These assholes had cost him his home and his job (OK, I'd helped) and he was going to couch-surf it until he could find the rarest of treasures: an affordable place to live in Cambridge, Mass? Even if he was being tortured by his conscience for all his deplorable selloutism, he was still being a total wuss. But that was his deal. I mean, he was an elf, for chrissakes. Who knew what he was thinking?

"Suit yourself," I said, and went and made some preparations.

Messers Amoral, Nonmoral and Immoral had an office over the river in Boston, in a shabby office-block that only had ten floors, but whose company directory listed over 800 businesses. I knew the kind of place, because they showed up whenever some hairy scam unravelled and they showed you the office-of-convenience used by the con-artists who'd destroyed something that lots of people cared about and loved in order to make a small number of bad people a little richer. A kind of breeding pit for rot-fungus, in other words.

At first I thought I was going to have to go and sleuth their real locations, but I saw that Amoral, Nonmoral and Immoral had the entire third floor registered to them, while everyone else had crazy-ass, heavily qualified suite numbers like 401c(1)K, indicating some kind of internal routing code for the use of the army of rot-fungus-infected spores who ensured that correspondence was handled in a way that preserved the illusion that each of the multifarious, blandly named shell companies (I swear to Cthulhu that there was one called "International Holdings (Holdings), Ltd") was a real going concern and not a transparent ruse intended to allow the rot-fungus to spread with maximal diffusion of culpability for the carriers who did its bidding.

I punched # # #300# # # on the ancient touchscreen intercom, its surface begrimed with a glossy coat of hardened DNA, Burger King residue and sifted-down dust of the ages. It blatted like an angry sheep, once, twice, three times, then disconnected. I punched again. Again. On the fourth try, an exasperated, wheezing voice emerged: "What?"

"I'm here to speak to someone from MIT Residences LLC."

"Send an email."

"I'm a tenant. My name is Lukasz Romero." I let that sink in. "I've got some documents I'd like to discuss with a responsible individual at MIT Residences LLC." I put a bit of heavy English on documents. "Please." I put even more English on "Please." I've seen the same tough-guy videos that you have, and I can do al-pacinoid overwound Dangerous Dude as well as anyone. "Please," I said again, meaning "Right. Now."

There was an elongated and ominous pause, punctuated by muffled rustling and grumbling, and what may have been typing on an old-fashioned, mechanical keyboard. "Come up," a different voice said. The elevator to my left ground as the car began to lower itself.

I'd expected something sinister — a peeling dungeon of a room where old men with armpit-stains gnawed haunches of meat and barked obscenities at each other. Instead, I found myself in an airy, high-ceilinged place that was straight out of the publicity shots for MIT's best labs, the ones that had been set-dressed by experts who'd ensured that no actual students had come in to mess things up before the photographer could get a beautifully lit shot of the platonic perfection.

The room took up the whole floor, dotted with conversation pits with worn, comfortable sofas whose end-tables sported inconspicuous charge-plates for power-hungry gadgets. The rest of the space was made up of new-looking worksurfaces and sanded-down antique wooden desks that emitted the honeyed glow of a thousand coats of wax buffed by decades of continuous use. The light came from tall windows and full-spectrum spotlights that were reflected and diffused off the ceiling, which was bare concrete and mazed with cable-trays and conduit. I smelled good coffee and toasting bread and saw a perfectly kept little kitchenette to my left.

There were perhaps a dozen people working in the room, standing at the worksurfaces, mousing away at the antique desks, or chatting intensely in the conversation pits. It was a kind of perfect tableau of industrious tech-company life, something out of a recruiting video. The people were young and either beautiful, handsome or both. I had the intense, unexpected desire to work here, or a place like this. It had good vibes.

One of the young, handsome people stood up from his conversation nook and smoothed out the herringbone wool hoodie he was wearing, an artfully cut thing that managed to make him look like both a young professor and an undergraduate at the same time. It helped that he was so fresh-faced, with apple cheeks and a shock of curly brown hair.

"Lukasz, right?" He held out a hand. He was wearing a dumbwatch, a wind-up thing in a steel casing that was fogged with a century of scratches. I coveted it instantly, though I knew nothing about its particulars, I was nevertheless certain that it was expensive, beautifully engineered, and extremely rare.

The door closed behind me and the magnet audibly reengaged. The rest of the people in the room studiously ignored us.

"I'm Sergey. Can I get you a cup of coffee? Tea? Some water?"

The coffee smelled good. "No thank you," I said. "I don't think I'll be here for long."

"Of course. Come and sit."

The other participants in his meeting had already vacated the sofas and left us with a conversation pit all to ourselves. I sank into the sofa and smelled the spicy cologne of a thousand eager, well-washed people who'd sat on it before me, impregnating the upholstery with the spoor of their good perfumes.

He picked up a small red enamel teapot and poured a delicious-smelling stream of yellow-green steaming liquid into a chunky diner-style coffee-cup. He sipped it. My stomach growled. "You told the receptionist you wanted to talk about some documents?"

"Yeah," I said, pulling myself together. "I've got documentary evidence of this company illegally evicting tenants — students — who got pregnant, complained about substandard living conditions and maintenance issues, and, in my case, complained about the network filters at the Termite Mound."

He cocked his head for a moment like he was listening for something in the hum and murmur of the office around him. I found myself listening, too, but try as I might, I couldn't pick out a single individual voice from the buzz, not even a lone intelligble word. It was as though they were all going "murmurmurmurmur," though I could see their lips moving and shaping what must have been words.

"Ah," he said at last. "Well, that's very unfortunate. Can you give me a set and I'll escalate them up our chain to ensure that they're properly dealt with?"

"I can give you a set," I said. "But I'll also be giving a set to the MIT ombudsman and the The Tech and the local Wikileaks Party rep. Sergey, forgive me, but you don't seem to be taking this very seriously. The material in my possession is the sort of thing that could get you and your colleagues here sued into a smoking crater."

"Oh, I appreciate that there's a lot of potential liability in the situation you describe, but it wouldn't be rational for me to freak out now, would it? I haven't seen your documents, and if I had, I can neither authenticate them nor evaluate the risk they represent. So I'll take a set from you and ensure that the people within our organization who have the expertise to manage this sort of thing get to them quickly."

It's funny. I'd anticipated that he'd answer like a chatbot, vomiting up Markov-chained nothings from the lexicon of the rot-fungus: "we take this very seriously," "we cannot comment on ongoing investigations," "we are actioning this with a thorough inquiry and post-mortem" and other similar crapola. Instead, he was talking like a hacker on a mailing list defending the severity he'd assigned to a bug he owned.

"Sergey, that's not much of an answer."

He sipped that delicious tea some more. "Is there something in particular you wanted to hear from me? I mean, this isn't the sort of thing that you find out about then everything stops until you've figured out what to do next."

I was off-balance. "I wanted –" I waved my hands. "I wanted an explanation. How the hell did this systematic abuse come about?"

He shrugged. He really didn't seem very worried "Hard to say, really. Maybe it was something out of the labs."

"What do you mean, 'the labs'?"

He gestured vaguely at one cluster of particularly engrossed young men and women who were bent over screens and worksurfaces, arranged in pairs or threesomes, collaborating with fierce intensity, reaching over to touch each others' screens and keyboards in a way I found instantly and deeply unsettling. "We've got a little R&D lab that works on some of our holdings. We're really dedicated to disrupting the rental market. There's so much money in it, you know, but mostly it's run by these entitled jerks who think that they're geniuses for having the brilliant idea of buying a building and then sitting around and charging rent on it. A real old boys' club." For the first time since we started talking, he really seemed to be alive and present and paying attention.

"Oh, they did some bits and pieces that gave them the superficial appearance of having a brain, but there's a lot of difference between A/B splitting your acquisition strategy and really deep-diving into the stuff that matters."

At this stage, I experienced a weird dissonance. I mean, I was there because these people were doing something genuinely villainous, real rot-fungus stuff. On the other hand, well, this sounded cool. I can't lie. I found it interesting. I mean, catnip-interesting.

"I mean, chewy questions. Like, if the median fine for a second citation for substandard plumbing is $400, and month-on-month cost for plumbing maintenance in a given building is $2,000 a month, and the long-term costs of failure to maintain are $20,000 for full re-plumbing on a 8-10 year basis with a 75 percent probability of having to do the big job in year nine, what are the tenancy parameters that maximize your return over that period?"

"Tenancy parameters?"

He looked at me. I was being stupid. I don't like that look. I suck at it. It's an ego thing. I just find it super-hard to deal with other people thinking that I'm dumb. I would probably get more done in this world if I didn't mind it so much. But I do. It's an imperfect world, and I am imperfect.

"Tenancy parameters. What are the parameters of a given tenant that predict whether he or she will call the city inspectors given some variable setpoint of substandard plumbing, set on a scale that has been validated through a rigorous regression through the data that establishes quantifiable inflection points relating to differential and discrete maintenance issues, including leaks, plugs, pressure, hot water temperature and volume, and so on. It's basically just a solve-for-x question, but it's one with a lot of details in the model that are arrived at through processes with a lot of room for error, so the model needs a lot of refinement and continuous iteration.

"And of course, it's all highly sensitive to external conditions — there's a whole game-theoretical set of questions about what other large-scale renters do in response to our own actions, and there's a information-theory dimension to this that's, well, it's amazing. Like, which elements of our strategy are telegraphed when we take certain actions as opposed to others, and how can those be steganographed through other apparent strategies.

"Now, most of these questions we can answer through pretty straightforward business processes, stuff that Amazon figured out twenty years ago. But there's a real risk of getting stuck in local maxima, just you know, overoptimizing inside of one particular paradigm with some easy returns. That's just reinventing the problem, though, making us into tomorrow's dinosaurs.

"If we're going to operate a culture of continuous improvement, we need to be internally disrupted to at least the same extent that we're disrupting those fat, stupid incumbents. That's why we have the labs. They're our chaos monkeys. They do all kinds of stuff that keeps our own models sharp. For example, they might incorporate a separate business and use our proprietary IP to try to compete with us — without telling us about it. Or give a set of autonomous agents privileges to communicate eviction notices in a way that causes a certain number of lawsuits to be filed, just to validate our assumptions about the pain-point at which an action or inaction on our side will trigger a suit from a tenant, especially for certain profiles of tenants.

"So there's not really any way that I can explain specifically what happened to the people mentioned in your correspondence. It's possible no one will ever be able to say with total certainty. I don't really know why anyone would expect it to be otherwise. We're not a deterministic state-machine, after all. If all we did was respond in set routines to set inputs, it'd be trivial to innovate around us and put us out of business. Our objective is to be strategically nonlinear and anti-deterministic within a range of continuously validated actions that map and remap a chaotic terrain of profitable activities in relation to property and rental. We're not rentiers, you understand. We don't own assets for a living. We do things with them. We're doing commercial science that advances the state of the art. We're discovering deep truths lurking in potentia in the shape of markets and harnessing them — putting them to work."

His eyes glittered. "Lukasz, you come in here with your handful of memos and you ask me to explain how they came about, as though this whole enterprise was a state-machine that we control. We do not control the enterprise. An enterprise is an artificial life-form built up from people and systems in order to minimize transaction costs so that it can be nimble and responsive, so that it can move into niches, dominate them, fully explore them. The human species has spent millennia recombining its institutions to uncover the deep, profound mathematics of power and efficiency.

"It's a terrain with a lot of cul-de-sacs and blind alleys. There are local maxima: maybe a three-move lookahead shows a good outcome from evicting someone who's pregnant and behind on the rent, but the six-move picture is different, because someone like you comes along and makes us look like total assholes. That's fine. All that means is that we have to prune that branch of the tree, try a new direction. Hell, ideally, you'd be in there so early, and give us such a thoroughgoing kicking, that we'd be able to discover and abort the misfire before the payload had fully deployed. You'd be saving us opportunity cost. You'd be part of our chaos-monkey.

"Lukasz, you come in here with your whistleblower memos. But I'm not participating in a short-term exercise. Our mission here is to quantize, systematize, harness and perfect interactions.

"You come in here and you want me to explain, right now, what we're going to do about your piece of information. Here's your answer, Lukasz: we will integrate it. We will create models that incorporate disprovable hypotheses about it, we will test those models, and we will refine them. We will make your documents part of our inventory of clues about the underlying nature of deep reality. Does that answer satisfy you, Lukasz?"

I stood up. Through the whole monologue, Sergey's eyes had not moved from mine, nor had his body-language shifted, nor had he demonstrated one glimmer of excitement or passion. Instead, he'd been matter-of-fact, like he'd been explaining the best way to make an omelet or the optimal public transit route to a distant suburb. I was used to people geeking out about the stuff they did. I'd never experienced this before, though: it was the opposite of geeking out, or maybe a geeking out that went so deep that it went through passion and came out the other side.

It scared me. I'd encountered many different versions of hidebound authoritarianism, fought the rot-fungus in many guises, but this was not like anything I'd ever seen. It had a purity that was almost… seductive.

But beautiful was not the opposite of terrible. The two could easily co-exist.

"I hear that I'm going to get evicted when I get back to the Termite Mound — you've got a process-server waiting for me. That's what I hear."

Sergey shrugged. "And?"

"And? And what use is your deep truth to me if I'm out on the street?"

"What's your point?"

He was as mild and calm as a recorded airport safety announcement. There was something inhuman — transhuman? — in that dispassionate mein.

"Don't kick me out of my place."

"Ah. Excuse me a second."

He finished his tea, set the cup down and headed over to the lab. He chatted with them, touched their screens. The murmur drowned out any words. I didn't try to disguise the fact that I was watching them. There was a long period during which they said nothing, did not touch anything, just stared at the screens with their heads so close together they were almost touching. It was a kind of pantomime of psychic communications.

He came back. "Done," he said. "Is there anything else? We're pretty busy around here."

"Thank you," I said. "No, that's about it."

"All right then," he said. "Are you going to leave me your documents?"

"Yes," I said, and passed him a stack of hardcopies. He looked at the paper for a moment, folded the stack carefully at the middle and put it in one of the wide side-pockets of his beautifully tailored cardigan.

I found my way back down to the ground floor and was amazed to see that the sun was still up. It had felt like hours had passed while Sergey had talked to me, and I could have sworn that the light had faded in those tall windows. But, checking my drop, I saw that it was only three o'clock. I had to be getting home.

There was a process-server waiting ostentatiously in the walkway when I got home, but he looked at me and then down at his screen and then let me pass.

It was only once I was in my room that I realized I hadn't done anything about Bryan's eviction.

#pluralistic #aaronsw #science fiction #big cable #telecoms #isps #net neutrality #boston #mit #fcc #National Multifamily Housing Council #NMHC #National Apartment Association #NAA #Real Estate Technology and Transformation Center #petard

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smallmariofindings · 1 year ago

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In Super Mario Odyssey, if Mario captures a Gushen and B is pressed on each alternate frame while in mid-air, the Gushen will remain suspended in mid-air without using up any of its water supply.

Since this requires pressing the button 30 times per second, this is impossible for a human player to do in practice for any length of time that could be useful.

Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Small Findings | Source: twitter.com user "2pants"

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becauseimanicequeen · 11 months ago

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Clocks, Watches, and Time in 4 Minutes

We're halfway into 4 Minutes and I thought I would write a bit about the different ways they use clocks, watches, and time in the show (so far).

I've already written about time a lot in my timelines post, but I just can't seem to stop thinking about this, so here I am... Again.

We all know time matters in this show. What I love about it, though, is the attention to detail. Because the details matter. They're being super intentional with them.

Don't believe me? Then let me show you.

When Great picks up Korn's phone at the bar and tries to open it (in ep 4), it says 09:10 pm:

But, the small clock at the top left on Korn's phone says 11:02 when Great snoops through it:

That's just Great continuing to see this anomaly when he's alone (it also tells us he's still at his 11:02 stage in this episode).

But then, when he sends the text about Nan's location to his own phone, Korn's phone still says 11:02 at the top:

But the text Great just sent to his own phone was sent at 09:12 pm because the phone knows what time it is even if Great can't see it:

See?

It's about the details of this show!

All the clocks and watches matter in 4 Minutes, not just the obvious or big ass ones they focus on to capture our attention. All the clocks/watches matter because they're intentionally set by the crew (I'm a thousand percent sure about this).

Now, let's look at some different ways they use time in the show.

So far (in chronological order), we've seen time used for showing:

Cold openings

Great's time anomaly (11:00-11:02 so far)

Great's 4-minute phenomenon (which Den calls it in his research)

Different timelines/realities in scenes that follow each other chronologically

Digital vs analog clocks/watches

Differences in 24-hour and 12-hour settings on digital clocks

The 4-minute time limit

Different timelines/realities in the same scene

Let's go through these one by one and hope that I can work within the image limit (seriously tumblr, I need more than 30 images per post, lol).

Cold Openings

The first two episodes open with events that happen outside the events of the rest of their episodes.

The first episode starts with Tyme getting shot and a patient in the ICU having a cardiac arrest (whom I, and many others, believe to be Great).

The second episode opens with Tonkla beating the shit out of someone with a rock.

Both these openings are isolated events that aren't connected to any of the bigger timelines or other events, yet.

Great's Time Anomaly

This is every time he sees 11:00-11:02 (which is as far as the clock has come at this point).

It started at 11:00 in the 1st episode:

Then it turned to 11:01 in the 2nd episode:

And 11:02 as Great was watching the clock in the 3rd episode:

So far, he's still at his 11:02 stage (which we saw on Korn's phone in the 4th episode). But I think the ominous ticking will continue in the next episode (or the 6th episode at the very latest).

Great's 4-Minute Phenomenon

Great has had 6 4-minute phenomenons (4MP) so far:

Hitting Manee (ep 1)

Bumping into Tyme at the hospital (ep 1)

Seeing Title beat the shit out of Dome (ep 2)

When he had a conversation with Tyme at Uni (ep 3)

His and Tyme's argument at the hospital (ep 4)

Seeing Samarn shoot Nan (ep 4)

The first 4 in the list above include clocks to show that Great is jumping back 4 minutes (I will only show 2 of them because I need to save images, lol).

When he arrives at the hospital in the 1st episode:

After he's bumped into Tyme:

After he's sent back:

When he walks away from Tyme after their conversation at Uni:

After he's been sent back:

The last two in the list above don't include clocks at all, probably because Great (and we as viewers) know what's going on when he has his 4MPs in the 4th episode. We don't need it explained again.

Different Timelines/Realities in Scenes that Follow Each Other Chronologically

I've written about this already in my timelines post, but I will summarize it here.

Chronologically, the scene where Korn is with Tonkla in the 1st episode is followed by the family dinner, which is followed by Korn dropping Great off at home.

Interestingly enough, Korn arrives at Tonkla's place at 07:15-ish pm:

Tonkla wants a second round at 08:55 pm, just as Korn's dad calls and wants Korn home for dinner:

Then, when Korn drops Great off at his condo after dinner, Korn's watch says 07:15-ish:

While the clock on Great's phone says 07:13:

This is all meant to be the same day Great hit Manee. Everyone (Great, Korn, their dad, and Great's mom) is wearing the same clothes throughout these scenes that happen on the same day. Yet, the times are different.

(Technically, Korn drops Great off at the same time as he arrives at Tonkla's place, which is super interesting.)

Digital vs Analog Clocks/Watches

I've already gathered the digital and analog clocks/watches from the first 2 episodes in a separate post (including the ones we've seen in the teaser and trailer).

I won't add images of them here (since I need to save images for the rest of the post, lol), but you can see them throughout this post.

Both digital and analog clocks/watches have a prominent place in the show, even though the digital clocks are more obvious and attention-grabbing.

I haven't yet figured out if there's a pattern behind the use of either in certain scenes or situations. Analog watches can obviously be a luxury item, so Great and Korn's watches are more than likely used for that reason as well. But other than that...

Great use and is surrounded by both digital and analog clocks and watches. Korn always wears analog clocks, but his times are shown on his phone as well. I'm pretty sure Tyme's watch is a digital one. The clocks at the hospital are digital (I can't remember if I've seen an analog clock there). Yet, the staff at the hospital have a mix of digital and analog watches.

So... I don't know. But at least they show a variety of clocks so it doesn't get boring, lol.

Differences in 24-hour and 12-Hour Settings on Digital Clocks

I've written about this already in my timelines post, but I will summarize it here.

The hospital seems to have a 24-hour setting in some cases, as we saw from the image of the clock on the front desk saying 13:10 when Great arrived (image above), but not in other cases even though this is in the evening:

Since it's the same hospital, I would find it strange if the clocks had different settings (or perhaps that's just me, lol). Perhaps, then, this is a way to show different timelines/realities (since Manee is, more than likely, dead in the real timeline/reality).

Interestingly, Great seems to have both settings on his phone as well (or, the phone is showing the time as 12 hours wrong).

The clock on his phone, when Korn drops him off after their family dinner (image above), says 07:13 while his phone at the hospital shows 13:14 (image above) and 16:33 and 16:29 when having his conversation with Tyme at Uni (images above).

His phone is clearly set on a 24-hour setting, yet, it says 07:13 at night? Obviously, he could've changed the setting after that night. But it could also indicate that different timelines/realities are present.

The 4-Minute Time Limit

This showed up in the 3rd episode in a vision Great had of himself and a mystery woman (who we now know is Lukwa) in a gallery:

It also shows up in the 4th episode as Lukwa talks to Den about this gallery and the mystery man (who we know is Great):

And we learned (even though most of us knew it already) that this is the limit of time a brain can survive without oxygen.

Different Timelines/Realities in the Same Scene

The clocks/watches were screaming at me in the 4th episode, to a point where I couldn't ignore them even if I wanted to (which I didn't). I've written about this in my timelines post already, but I'll summarize my thoughts about it here.

Korn and Great were in different times in the scene are the bar. Korn started the scene at 06:50 pm:

While Great's watch showed 03:20-ish when he arrived at the bar (after my ramble in my timelines post about this, I thought it was most logical if this was am for Great considering the scenes that follow):

Great's time is consistent to him as it turns to 03:50-ish while they're still in the middle of drinking:

While Korn's time stays consistent with him, which could be seen when Great grabbed Korns phone and it showed 09:10 pm when he tried to open it (image above).

It's also interesting to note that, if we follow Great's time from the bar, then he's kissing Tyme in the tent at 02:00 pm:

This would mean that Korn's time, at this point, is 05:40 am, which (according to my calculations in my timelines post) is the same time Great ditches Korn at the bar to go save Nan.

(This could mean that everything that happened in Great's timeline/reality after he left the bar didn't happen in Korn's.)

Anyway...

Korn and Great exist in completely different times/realities even though they're in the same scene together. And I absolutely loved that detail with those clocks/watches. That whole bar scene was heaven for my brain.

Things are definitely changing when it comes to timelines/realities in the show, and I'm on the edge of my seat with every new episode.

I can't wait to see what time-fuckery we'll get in the next one.

Is it Friday, yet?

#4 minutes #4 minutes the series #thai ql #thai bl #thai series #my shit

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ladyaldhelm · 11 months ago

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Making Gifs Part 1 - Capturing Video

I am making this for @errruvande but I thought maybe others could use this guide to. This is my own personal workflow on how I make my gifs. Everyone has their own way of doing it, and there is no right or wrong way, but I have found this works best for me, with my limited tools and since I do not have photoshop.

Please note I am not an expert lol! There are people out there making far better gifs than me, and many other gifmaking resouces on Tumblr that are probably better than mine.

Keep reading below >>>

So there are two ways that I have found that work for capturing video. If you have the discs like I do, using a program like Videobyte BD-DVD Ripper works really well to grab video clips from Blu-Rays and DVD's. I recommend only using Blu-Rays if you have them. since DVD's are much lower quality.

However I have noticed the videos I captured with this program tend to be dark and have some compression artifacts, even when rip to an MKV with high quality settings. So I use a different method which I feel produces higher quality video captures.

I use Windows Screen Recorder (I have Win11 but this will work for all versions of Windows) with the quality settings set to High. In order to do this, go to Settings > Gaming > Captures and set the following:

Make sure the Video Quality is set to High, set your Screenshots folder, turn off Audio (you don't need it), and keep the frame rate to 30 fps.

For Windows 11 press WIN + ALT + R to activate the screen recorder. There is usually a bit of a delay so make sure you start a few seconds before the scene you want to capture. And try to keep the length of the capture below about 90 seconds; the shorter the better.

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Capturing Sequential Caps

So, for those of you with Photoshop, you can import your video directly into the program and make your gif from there. But I found that Photopea really does not like videos, and will stall and crash if I load a video directly. So I have to capture sequential screencaps to make my gifs.

I use VLC Media Player. There are a few others out there that take sequential caps, but I have not been able to get them to work myself.

Download and install the latest version. Then go to your settings to set up the Sequential Caps function. They have a great guide on their website here but I will reiterate it in this post.

Go To Tools > Preferences and then at the bottom of the screen select the All radio button to show all settings.

Select Video from the left menu. Scroll down about halfway until you see the Snapshot section. Choose the folder where you want the caps to go.

3. Then, under Video on the left, expand the Filters list.

4. Check the "Scene Video Filter" from the list.

5. Then scroll down on the left menu under Filters and click on Scene Filter. This will open up the settings for that particular filter.

6. Set the Image Format to PNG.

7. Then for the Recording Ratio, change to "1". The Recording Ratio is the frame interval. So for example, if it was set to "300" (with a 30fps video), then it would take one cap every 10 seconds. Setting it to "1" will make it take a cap once per frame.

8. None of the other settings need to be changed.

9. One more important setting, otherwise this will not work! Close the menu, and go back to Tools > Settings and leave it on Simple. Go to the Video section and MAKE SURE the output is set to "Automatic". This is important because if it is not on Automatic the Scene Filter won't work!

Then just open your video with VLC. VLC will automatically take the screencaps while the video is playing. If you pause the video, it will stop taking caps.

NOTE: For smoother gifs, change your playback speed to be slower. Go to the top menu > Playback > Speed > Slower (fine). The more you click this the slower the video will playback, and that means more caps will be taken over that time frame. I usually set it to 0.75x, but if you want even smoother gifs for really short clips, you can set it even slower than that.

Your screenshot folder will look like this:

Then we are done with this part and onto Photopea! Which I will go into detail in another post: PART 2

#gifmakers #gifmaking #gif making #gifmaking resources #gif making resources #my guides #giffing tutorial #screencapping #sequential caps #gif making tutorial

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mariacallous · 19 days ago

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What a week to be Jewish Democratic mayoral candidate Brad Lander.

On Tuesday, Lander — who, as New York City comptroller, is the highest-ranking Jewish official in the city’s government — was arrested by federal agents at an immigration court in Lower Manhattan after he linked arms with a person that U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement officials were attempting to detain.

Numerous journalists were present at the court at 26 Federal Plaza and witnessed the arrest, including AM New York reporter Dean Moses, who posted a video to X in which Lander, 55, can be heard saying, repeatedly, “Do you have a judicial warrant?”

During Lander’s roughly four-hour detention, his wife, Meg, took over the candidate’s social media account, posting updates. Several New York City politicians flocked to Federal Plaza to demand Lander’s release, including Assemblymember Zohran Mamdani, a democratic socialist candidate for mayor who is regularly polling a close second behind frontrunner and former Gov. Andrew Cuomo. Lander and Mamdani cross-endorsed each other on Friday.

Gov. Kathy Hochul called Lander’s arrest “bullshit,” adding: “How dare they take an elected official, who’s been going down there for weeks, to escort people who are afraid to walk into a courthouse in the United States of America?”

The dramatic turn of events captured widespread attention among New Yorkers as well as observers across the country — Tuesday afternoon, “Brad Lander” became one of the most-searched terms on the internet in the United States, per Google Trends.

By the late afternoon, a crowd had assembled at Foley Square demanding for the comptroller’s release — which appears to have happened sometime before 4:30 p.m. Lander appeared outside the courthouse holding hands with his wife and Hochul; he then made an appearance at the rally.

“When immigrant rights are under attack, what do we do?” Lander yelled through a bullhorn at the crowd, which responded, “Stand up! Fight back!”

The hugely viral sequence of events caps a very busy period for Lander, who, last week, was effectively endorsed in the New York Times by a panel of 15 New Yorkers who are “deeply involved in the life of the city,” including restaurateur Danny Meyer and Howard Wolfson, the former Deputy Mayor in Mayor Mike Bloomberg’s administration.

In New York Times editorial project dubbed “The Choice” that was published last Thursday, seven of the 15 panelists selected Lander as their “top choice” to be New York’s next mayor, citing his “detailed knowledge of city government and finances, his record as a consensus builder and his responsible approach to leadership.”

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nasa · 2 years ago

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Astronomers used three of NASA's Great Observatories to capture this multiwavelength image showing galaxy cluster IDCS J1426.5+3508. It includes X-rays recorded by the Chandra X-ray Observatory in blue, visible light observed by the Hubble Space Telescope in green, and infrared light from the Spitzer Space Telescope in red. This rare galaxy cluster has important implications for understanding how these megastructures formed and evolved early in the universe.

How Astronomers Time Travel

Let’s add another item to your travel bucket list: the early universe! You don’t need the type of time machine you see in sci-fi movies, and you don’t have to worry about getting trapped in the past. You don’t even need to leave the comfort of your home! All you need is a powerful space-based telescope.

But let’s start small and work our way up to the farthest reaches of space. We’ll explain how it all works along the way.

This animation illustrates how fast light travels between Earth and the Moon. The farther light has to travel, the more noticeable its speed limit becomes.

The speed of light is superfast, but it isn’t infinite. It travels at about 186,000 miles (300 million meters) per second. That means that it takes time for the light from any object to reach our eyes. The farther it is, the more time it takes.

You can see nearby things basically in real time because the light travel time isn’t long enough to make a difference. Even if an object is 100 miles (161 kilometers) away, it takes just 0.0005 seconds for light to travel that far. But on astronomical scales, the effects become noticeable.

This infographic shows how long it takes light to travel to different planets in our solar system.

Within our solar system, light’s speed limit means it can take a while to communicate back and forth between spacecraft and ground stations on Earth. We see the Moon, Sun, and planets as they were slightly in the past, but it's not usually far enough back to be scientifically interesting.

As we peer farther out into our galaxy, we use light-years to talk about distances. Smaller units like miles or kilometers would be too overwhelming and we’d lose a sense of their meaning. One light-year – the distance light travels in a year – is nearly 6 trillion miles (9.5 trillion kilometers). And that’s just a tiny baby step into the cosmos.

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The Sun’s closest neighboring star, Proxima Centauri, is 4.2 light-years away. That means we see it as it was about four years ago. Betelgeuse, a more distant (and more volatile) stellar neighbor, is around 700 light-years away. Because of light’s lag time, astronomers don’t know for sure whether this supergiant star is still there! It may have already blasted itself apart in a supernova explosion – but it probably has another 10,000 years or more to go.

What looks much like craggy mountains on a moonlit evening is actually the edge of a nearby, young, star-forming region NGC 3324 in the Carina Nebula. Captured in infrared light by the Near-Infrared Camera (NIRCam) on NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope, this image reveals previously obscured areas of star birth.

The Carina Nebula clocks in at 7,500 light-years away, which means the light we receive from it today began its journey about 3,000 years before the pyramids of Giza in Egypt were built! Many new stars there have undoubtedly been born by now, but their light may not reach Earth for thousands of years.

An artist’s concept of our Milky Way galaxy, with rough locations for the Sun and Carina nebula marked.

If we zoom way out, you can see that 7,500 light-years away is still pretty much within our neighborhood. Let’s look further back in time…

This stunning image by the NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope features the spiral galaxy NGC 5643. Looking this good isn’t easy; 30 different exposures, for a total of nine hours of observation time, together with Hubble’s high resolution and clarity, were needed to produce an image of such exquisite detail and beauty.

Peering outside our Milky Way galaxy transports us much further into the past. The Andromeda galaxy, our nearest large galactic neighbor, is about 2.5 million light-years away. And that’s still pretty close, as far as the universe goes. The image above shows the spiral galaxy NGC 5643, which is about 60 million light-years away! That means we see it as it was about 60 million years ago.

As telescopes look deeper into the universe, they capture snapshots in time from different cosmic eras. Astronomers can stitch those snapshots together to unravel things like galaxy evolution. The closest ones are more mature; we see them nearly as they truly are in the present day because their light doesn’t have to travel as far to reach us. We can’t rewind those galaxies (or our own), but we can get clues about how they likely developed. Looking at galaxies that are farther and farther away means seeing these star cities in ever earlier stages of development.

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The farthest galaxies we can see are both old and young. They’re billions of years old now, and the light we receive from them is ancient since it took so long to traverse the cosmos. But since their light was emitted when the galaxies were young, it gives us a view of their infancy.

This animation is an artist’s concept of the big bang, with representations of the early universe and its expansion.

Comparing how fast objects at different distances are moving away opened up the biggest mystery in modern astronomy: cosmic acceleration. The universe was already expanding as a result of the big bang, but astronomers expected it to slow down over time. Instead, it’s speeding up!

The universe’s expansion makes it tricky to talk about the distances of the farthest objects. We often use lookback time, which is the amount of time it took for an object’s light to reach us. That’s simpler than using a literal distance, because an object that was 10 billion light-years away when it emitted the light we received from it would actually be more than 16 billion light-years away right now, due to the expansion of space. We can even see objects that are presently over 30 billion light-years from Earth, even though the universe is only about 14 billion years old.

This James Webb Space Telescope image shines with the light from galaxies that are more than 13.4 billion years old, dating back to less than 400 million years after the big bang.

Our James Webb Space Telescope has helped us time travel back more than 13.4 billion years, to when the universe was less than 400 million years old. When our Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope launches in a few years, astronomers will pair its vast view of space with Webb’s zooming capabilities to study the early universe in better ways than ever before. And don’t worry – these telescopes will make plenty of pit stops along the way at other exciting cosmic destinations across space and time.

Learn more about the exciting science Roman will investigate on X and Facebook.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

#NASA #astronomy #telescope #Roman Space Telescope #dark energy #galaxies #cosmology #astrophysics #stars #galaxy #Hubble #Webb #Chandra #Spitzer #space images #Youtube

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magicalgirlmindcrank · 6 months ago

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We wrote a review for I Hate You, Please Suffer

Some slight spoilers for the game after the part we mention there gonna be spoilers

Long overdue Review Time.

We're going to lead with the brief for the sake of others browsing this game - IHY,PS is one the best games we played in 2024, a year we finally got around to games such as Elden Ring, Hollow Knight, Both Portal games, and some other fantastic stuff we aren't gonna inflate this list with. The only reason it isn't hands down our favorite is that it's narrowly edged out by the Dev's previous work Slimes. (Mostly because Slimes linear nature allowed us to ecperience it with little

If you are considering buying this game, you should. This game is nothing short of a masterpiece and it's honestly a steal even at full price.

Now that we've written enough to hopefully be under the read more, lets get into a more full review with some light spoilers. Read further at your own caution.

This game perfectly captures how it feels to be a mid 20s to 30's something without purpose. It's how it feels to be crushed under the weight of capitalist society, how it feels to lose the little security you have, how hard it is to scrap together the pieces in the wake of losing a once stable life, and how meaning is made, not found. All of these themes are iterated time and again throughout not just the main party members, but just about everyone you interact with. It goes into the various ways people cope with such loss, across a spectrum of unhealthiness.

And this is a game about getting better.

There is an undeniable and powerful emotional core here, and it's the kind of thing that will have you rethink your life, asking the same questions the characters do - Am I happy as I am? Can I build a life where I am? Can I grow past my hurt? Can I do it even though it's a struggle?

And what a struggle it is, one that comes across clear to the player. The hardest part of this journey is undoubtedly the beginning - getting the ball rolling in the first few feels a lot like trying to get out of debt in real life, but once you do, once you have people supporting you, it gets easier. And the more people you have supporting you the easier it all gets. It does help that even comes in the romantic flavor, but more on that in a second.

Speaking of, the characters themselves are all masterfully done and memorable. Even many of the side characters are immediately distinct and endearing, or obnoxious/off-putting, as per narrative need. All help further thematic core at the heart of IHY,PS - Building a life where you are happy is painful, hard work, but it is worth it. (also you don't have to do it alone)

We also want to highlight how much it means to us to see so much authentic queer representation in a game that's not really 'about' such a thing. Sure, Ramona, the main character, is a trans woman and often has to deal with transmisogyny and an emotionally abusive mother who doesn't accept her, but the focus always feels focused on building happiness in her life. Three of the four party members are even bisexual and poly - as a bi poly trans woman there were a lot of moments we got all giddy over. The ending we got, Vodka scene, and Imposter fight being absolute highlights. But again, the focus is always on making a life you want to live, realizations of identity are merely the shape it takes, not the pure function of the story.

It's honestly hard to think of any real criticism to lodge with the game. Sure the beginning is easily the hardest part of the game, and getting you first few hundred dollars is a struggle, but it all works perfectly in a ludonarrative sense. Personally, we would have liked it if there was another transwoman besides Ramona given there are three transmasc people, but that's not much of a complaint. A trans woman MC in a game that isn't explicitly about being a trans woman is rare enough. If we had to point out something, it's that occasionally quests would break, and that finding quest NPCs on the randomized floors even with the fast resetting of the smoke bombs quickly gets tiresome.

In all, this was an absolutely perfect game, and we're looking forward to replaying it to explore it's many paths.

This is the part where the review breaks down a little cuz we've been writing this on and off for four days now and have more stuff we wanna say but cant be fucked with, so apologies that this is a bit scattered:

Ramona hits almost too close to home in a lot of ways, and her knife fighting being a weeb thing is fucking hilarious. Kyrie is simply one our fave characters in anything ever and serial killer that masks as girlie pop is just delicious. Devon is a cutie, would love to show him my vinyl collections and talk music, we think he'd really dig our instrumental post metal collection. Jasper kinda grew on us with just wild they are with the whole casual admittance of having been in a cult and other such moments. Becoming broken in the mid to late game feels really good after the struggles of early game. Really liked the various other groups of adventurers and their different dynamics and how this made the world feel alive, especially the soft time limit on random side quests being them taking the quests in your stead. Maybe the first game to get us to do fanart of anything besides Vocaloid.

10/10, S tier game, made us rethink our life. Thank you for the food, and we can't wait to see what you do next~ <3

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historicrad39a · 2 years ago

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3. Frontier Rescue Rangers

Unnamed system - 135ly from Earth

Frontier Rescue Rangers Carrier Zuikaku after action report: July 13th 2538

It had been a month since the Human-Tathrax alliance had been attacked by an unknown alien civilization (henceforth known as the “Theta Aliens”). Whilst there was an initial panic about possible follow up attacks, it wasn’t until yesterday that we had any further contact. A small exploration vessel surveying systems just outside of Alliance space had been ambushed and captured by the Theta Aliens. Due to the proximity to frontier space, and the fact that this was a rescue mission, the Frontier Rescue Rangers were dispatched.

Two months ago, had you told me I would make history by being the first half-human half-Tathrax to command of one of the admiralty’s newest and largest carriers, with two brand new Kongō-class Fast Battleships (specifically modified for Frontier Defense fleet use) in tow as the head of a squadron with more firepower than the entire Frontier Defense Fleet up until that point - especially for a rescue mission of all things - I would have called you crazy. In fact, once the FDS Frontier’s captain, Zack, told me he was planning to request the admiralty’s newest toys, I called him an idiot. He had asked me if, assuming he succeeded, I would want to command one of the new ships - and if so, which type. I told him, somewhat jokingly, that I wanted to be in command of a massive voidcraft carrier. Come two weeks later and the Shōkaku-class carrier Zuikaku has been delivered to us direct from Akatsuki Shipyards, with myself named as her captain.

Unlike most people in the Frontier Defense fleet, I was here willingly. My parents were explorers, and when I was a young girl I frequently accompanied them on their journeys. On one such journey, we were in the AR Scorpii system preparing to return home when one of the relativistic beams from the system’s White Dwarf just barely skimmed by our ship. The hyperdrive went haywire and within a matter of seconds we ended up at the outer edge of the MilkyWay - having just travelled some 26,300ly in under 20 seconds. Hyperspace has a maximum speed limit of ~1 light year per second, most ships can only manage a light year per ten seconds at most. Yet somehow we managed to move at some 1,000 light years per second.

We were stranded for around a week in a near functionless ship slowly starving to death before we heard the distinct roar of a large vessel approaching in hyperspace. The Rescue Rangers had successfully requisitioned the Casablanca-class carrier ship Gambier Bay and made the week-long trip out here non-stop. Needless to say I was greatly inspired by their bravery and decided I would become a Rescue Ranger when I grew up.

By the time I was of eligible age to join the Rescue Rangers, things had rapidly deteriorated. When I was a child, the hyperdrive was just barely 50 years old. But by the time I had joined it was nearing 70 years old. Consequently, random failures, mis-jumps, and fuel exhaustion due to unpredictable fuel usage were all but things of the past. The Rescue Rangers weren’t nearly as crucial anymore, and as a result in my 2nd year the Rescue Rangers were disbanded as an independent branch and the remnants were folded into the Frontier Defense Fleet. Along with our independence, almost all of our ships were taken - including the carrier Gambier Bay I so desperately wanted to serve on.

Eight years later and the Frontier Rescue Rangers did little more than refuel stranded ships that had misjudged their remaining fuel. That is, until a month ago, when the Frontier Rescue Rangers were suddenly given 30 modified Fletcher class destroyers along with the promises of several capital ships and a massive budget increase. In addition to our normal duties, we were to combat the alien threat and rescue any individuals captured by them.

My first mission in command of the FDCV Zuikaku was to lead a task force of 18 vessels to rescue some captured explorers. As it would turn out, this was overkill. In addition to the Zuikaku we had the FDBB Hiei and Haruna - two modified Kongō-class battle cruisers which had been re-designated as Fast Battleships - and fifteen Ted Fujita-class Destroyers (modified Fletcher-class). While the main armament on the Kongōs and the torpedo launchers on the Ted Fujitas were of Alliance design, the 23cm double-barreled turrets were created using borrowed technology from the Theta Aliens.

The aliens, on the other hand, had a mere five cruisers guarding the transport vessel holding the captured explorers. The 40cm guns on the Hiei and Haruna and the Samuel B. Robert’s four 720mm torpedos practically atomized the cruisers. The Hiei’s 76cm “crew incapacitation” rounds also proved to be complete overkill. Of the three rounds fired at the transport, one hit the engines, one atomized the fuel tanker behind the transport, and the third round penetrated into the reactor room before detonating. We had included extra oxidizer in the bursting charge in case the ship’s atmosphere limited the spread of fires.

This turned out not to be the case, as the third shell set almost the entire ship’s insides on fire - killing 60% of the crew instantly. Frankly, we got lucky. Via neural implants on one of the explorers we knew they were locked inside a holding cell of sorts, but it’s very likely that had the “crew incapacitation” round been any more powerful there may have been no explorers left to rescue. Needless to say I’m prohibiting the use of these rounds until they can be fixed.

The boarding action was also very successful - there was not a single Alliance casualty during the firefight. One of the commandos transferred from the Anti-piracy force was quite amused at the 600 year old M2 Browning machine guns the Frontier Defense Force had been issued, and apparently thought it would be hilarious to bring it as his primary weapon. As it turns out, despite being 600 years old at this point, the M2 Browning was extremely effective - so much so that we have received no fewer than twenty requests to make the M2 Browning part of the standard loadout.

In terms of our primary objective, we were a bit too successful. Our orders were “to rescue as many of the five captured individuals as possible from the Theta Aliens.” When all was said and done, we had achieved a 1700% success rate - having rescued 85 of the 5 individuals captured. In addition to this, we had made first contact with three additional alien species aside from those comprising the Alliance. As it had turned out, the explorers we were sent to rescue had made friends - and upon being rescued, they demanded that we take on all 80 of the other individuals onboard the vessel. Leave it to the humans to make friends wherever they go…

Naturally, I was opposed to this request - we had nowhere near the resources necessary to care for 80 additional people, let alone 80 individuals from a variety of species we knew nothing about. It wasn’t until the explorers’ captain, Hanako, threatened to refuse rescue that I finally relented. Such is the stubbornness of humans. This is the same species that, upon seeing my Mother’s (recent) ancestors in person for the first time - a species known for being an apex predator - said “Awww, they look like kitties!” Before attempting to pet their heads, followed by sulking when my mother’s ancestors refused to allow it. I suppose it’s the human blood that flows through my veins that makes it hard to be too mad at them.

In any case, one individual was of particular interest to us due to Hanako’s claims that she had communicated with them. Naturally, we were skeptical. We had barely made any progress on decoding the Theta Aliens’ language after a month, it seemed impossible that a human could communicate with a completely different alien species after less than a day. Imagine our surprise when the alien spoke (admittedly limited, and broken) English.

I quickly discovered the secret behind their supernatural ability to learn languages, it was quite literally “supernatural” in nature. They are capable of communicating telepathically, and on rare occasions they can communicate with individuals from different species. This ability is extremely limited however, as there are many complications associated with communicating with an individual who does not share a language, and most individuals are not compatible. We had the individual attempt to communicate with everyone on the Zuikaku, and of the Human and Tathrax crew, only Hanako could hear them.

Despite this limitation, this individual would likely be very useful. According to Hanako, the individual served as a diplomat for some time, and knew many languages as a result. In addition to this, they knew a lot about the Theta Aliens (who they referred to as something like K’Lagreth). This would no doubt be extremely useful, both for information gathering, and for deciphering the Theta Aliens’ language. Given how none of the 1,500 some crew on the Zuikaku were compatible with the individual’s ability, it’s nothing short of a miracle that any of the five captured explorers were compatible.

Before returning to the Frontier to refuel and rearm, we decided to ask the individual for their name, as referring to them as “the/that alien,” or “the/that individual” was quite tiresome. Unfortunately, neither human nor tathrax vocal chords could actually pronounce their name, and I’m not certain that letters exist in any alliance language that could accurately transcribe it. In addition, their name was long, very long. Assuming that any of us could even pronounce it, most would struggle to remember. However, humans will do as humans will do, and upon hearing a part of their name that sounded vaguely like “Gregg,” the humans immediately took to calling them by that name. I suppose referring to them as “Gregg” is easier than referring to them in the 3rd person all the time…

After (slowly) providing basic accommodations for the numerous species onboard, we prepared to depart on the return journey to the Frontier. Due to the limited bandwidth for FTL communications, our transmission to the Frontier was extremely limited (speeds capped out at around 12 bits per second). This meant that most of the details regarding our new guests could not be included. I’m sure that Zack will be happy to hear that he’ll need to fill his precious space station with a wide variety of flammable gases, toxic gases, and strong oxidizers in order to provide for our unexpected rescuees.

Moving forward, the admiralty will need to make a decision on how to proceed from here. Clearly, the Alliance aren’t the only ones threatened by the Theta aliens. If Gregg’s reports are to be believed, the Theta Aliens have subjected no fewer than ten different civilizations, possibly more. They also noted that the exact location of the Theta Aliens’ homeworld is unknown to most, if not all outsiders. Originally our goal was to protect Alliance interests from the Alien threat, and negotiate a ceasefire as soon as possible. However, I now feel this is unlikely to work. The Mylr’s (Gregg’s species) were supposedly able to fend off the Theta Aliens for some time, but eventually, they too fell.

I feel a military campaign is necessary. There is much we could learn from these captured civilizations, and depriving the Theta Aliens of their resources, both living and non-living, would make it very unlikely that they could continue to attack us. In addition, it would ultimately be beneficial for us to free those countless individuals who are suffering at the hands of the Theta Aliens… Y’know, from a objective standpoint of course. Definitely nothing as ambiguous or illogical as feeling moral obligation to help them just because they’re in need. Nothing like that at all.

In any case, the sooner we can get the individuals we rescued back to their homeworlds, the better. While it’s true they were no longer in what could only be described as slavery, they hadn’t exactly returned to a normal life either. It would be best for them to return to their homeworlds. But as those homeworlds were supposedly under occupation, it would be hard to just bring them back and expect things to turn out fine.

I’ll chat with Zack about this once we return. I’m unwilling to just abandon the individuals we rescued today, and I’m sure Zack will feel the same (once he’s done complaining about having to fill the Frontier with a variety of dangerous gases). I don’t care how long or what it takes, but I swear on my ancestors that we will wage total war against the Theta Aliens - and we will free those unduly oppressed by them. Even if the admiralty refuses my plan, I will not allow the Theta Aliens to exploit any civilization any longer. The Theta Aliens’ empire’s collapse begins today.

Log end

Hey y’all. So as it turns out I’m physically incapable of sticking to schedules, so here’s this entry a day or so early. The next entry will probably be from Gregg’s perspective and may end up being a bit shorter (although I’ve thought this about literally every chapter so far) as it won’t be as focused on the larger plot. It will be a little more in the spirit of “humans are fucking weird” as it deals with Gregg adapting to the *ahem* oddities of living with humans.

Depending on how long it is, the next chapter/intermission may come out as early as next week. Like I said, apparently I’m incapable of sticking to a schedule. In the meantime, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. See y’all in anywhere from a few days to two weeks!

~Rad

#writing #humans are space orcs #humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #reddit refugee #writers on tumblr #sci fi writing #hfy #humanity fuck yeah #humans and aliens #humans are space capybaras

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